End of the campaign

The air hung heavy with the stench of blood and iron as Cypher staggered out of Castle Fenn, his steps unsteady. His robe, torn and caked with grime, clung to his aching body. Behind him, the remnants of his battle lingered. Resting bodies of the crossbowman, sand scattered across their resting cold skin, and dark pools of blood glistening in the moonlight.

He stepped onto the wooden bridge spanning the moat, its old planks groaning beneath his weight. The sound reverberated as cheers echoed in the distance.

Despite his time trapped in the Well, only half an hour had passed here—far shorter than the two hours he had spent in that wretched dimension.

His gaze lifted to the sky, scanning for signs of battle. There were no flickering lights Or the clashing of swords. Only the night wind, cold against his skin, tugging at the edges of his robe as he took in the battlefield from the ground level.

It was gruesome sight. A one-sided slaughter.

The golden glow of the moon reflected off the slick, blood-soaked earth, turning the battlefield into a grotesque painting of crimson and ash. The dead lay strewn in all shapes and sizes, their twisted forms frozen in agony. But among the carnage, a row of silver-armored soldiers stood still, catatonic, their gazes hollow.

Around them, a horde of men jeered, prodding at the motionless warriors. Laughter rang out, uncaring and cruel.

"See! I told you!" One soldier grinned as he jabbed a spear at a lifeless-eyed knight. "Lord Endo is truly shining down on us!"

His amusement faltered as a tall figure in a flowing white cloak emerged from the shadows. The Dreamweaver moved like a wraith, gliding behind the soldier and resting a cold hand on his shoulder.

"You speak of Endo as if you are worthy," the Dreamweaver murmured, his voice eerily calm. "Tell me… do you recall the final passage of the Acrisanctum?"

The soldier stiffened. He swallowed hard, then forced the words out with all the strength he could muster.

"Y-yes, sir!" He recited hastily:

"He who invokes the blasphemous name of the Prince of Lies, know that his deception never fades until hatred dies. Curse the fiend, for he has one body, but in those eyes, a legion of minds."

The Dreamweaver nodded approvingly before casting his gaze across the battlefield. Then, his attention snapped to a lone figure watching a short distance away.

Before he could act, a blur of movement cut past him.

A red-haired man barged through the ranks, his strides swift, a bird perched on his shoulder. It looked to be Orion.

Cypher recognized him instantly. Even now, Orion bore the lingering marks of battle.His armor dented, his tunic stained with sweat and blood. Yet, compared to before, he looked… Less like a charred peice of meat and more noble, befitting his position.

The moment Cypher had vanished, Orion had received his note through the crow, but an immediate rescue had been impossible. Not out of reluctance—if Cypher had died, the Saint would have surely unleashed her fury upon him—but because the battlefield had nearly claimed his life.

A Caliber Three had targeted him.

Once again, Orion had come dangerously close to death.

He would have perished—if not for Rain.

The Dreambeast had advanced in rank at the perfect moment. Now a Rank Two, like Tameil, Rain had unleashed his Demonic Deception technique for a single, fateful second—long enough for Orion to strike. One clean movement, and the Weaver's head was gone.

Luck surely was on his side!

Orion grimaced as he glanced at his shoulder, where Rain—now noticeably larger—dug his talons into his flesh. With an irritated caw, the bird spread his wings and leapt off, diving toward Cypher.

Cypher barely had time to react before a dark blur struck his chest. He staggered, his knees buckling as he collapsed onto the cold earth.

For a moment, he lay still, staring up at the night sky. Then, with trembling fingers, he reached out, brushing his hand over Rain's feathers. The warmth steadied his breath.

"There, there…" He exhaled slowly, letting his body relax. "I know the world would be unbearable without me."

Rain cawed again, tilting his head.

Cypher let out a dry chuckle, resting his head against the ground. "Did you get bigger?"

Caw!

"I see…" His voice was barely above a whisper. "So you ranked up. Huh.?You saved him… That's a shame."

A shadow loomed over him.

"Where were you?" Orion's voice was low, irritated. "I thought you were going to die in there."

Cypher tilted his head lazily, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "False alarm. Just a Rank Two. Guess he couldn't handle me." He shrugged, lying through his teeth. "What happened? Did Clementine win?"

Orion followed his gaze across the battlefield. The evidence of their victory was clear—bloodied swords jutting from the ground, arrows buried deep in the dirt. Nova soldiers stood eerily still, shimmering particles coiling around the air in pathetic displays that disgusted any Dreamweaver who layed eyes on them. It was an insult to soul Caliber that these mortal vermin could even produce this much.

"Your little trick paid off," Orion said. "About twenty minutes after you vanished, the Euphoraline kicked in. Poor bastards never saw it coming."

"And Clementine?"

Orion let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Heh. Best not to get on her bad side today."

Cypher followed his gaze toward the main camp—only to find a brutal scene unfolding before him.

Clementine, still clad in gleaming armor, moved with mechanical precision, stepping between kneeling cultists. With every calculated motion, she severed limbs, her floating swords slicing through flesh with ruthless efficiency. She did not grant them quick deaths. Instead, she left them to writhe and bleed out, their agonized screams barely reaching her ears.

Her expression was unreadable.

"The Archdemon fled," Orion said, stretching a hand toward Cypher. "Apparently, he realized the battle was a lost cause and cut his losses. He was faster than Clementine. Took off like a dog, tail between his legs."

Cypher stared at Clementine for a moment longer before sighing, accepting Orion's hand. As he rose to his feet, the battlefield stretched before him in moonlight.

Victory.

Yet, for some reason, it didn't feel like one. Not one soul knew what he had experienced in that damned space, and he wanted to keep it that way for now.

He rose fully to his feet, preparing to walk over to the camp to meet with Clementine.

As soon as he took a step...

"COUGH!COUGH!"

His chest heaved up and down, choking on something. A coughing fit soon followed as he covered mouth with his palm.

"Are you okay?" Orion squinted his eyes, turning back to the boy.

"Cough...Y- yeah," He took his hand away from his face, hiding the blood droplets coating his palm, "Let's go."

They passed by many soldiers, slowly making their way towards Clementine.

"I'd Die before betraying Releigh!"

"Very well..."

Shink!

Another body dropped Infront of the Saint.

Without turning around, she addressed the two Dreamweavers approaching her.

"I'm glad your safe Cypher. I feared these friends might have taken you too soon."

Another body dropped.

Cypher hesitated slightly before speaking up. He reached inside his robe, pulling out a black, Crystalline object ,"I ran into minor trouble, nothing I couldn't handle."

The dragoncore rested between his fingers and emitted it's signature heat into the sorroundings.

"Hmm, that's good. When we make it back to Thorn, the Emporor should give you honours during the ball."