When they looked up, the marble floor still trembled faintly from the aftershock of that devastating attack, dust and remnants of red pixels scattered everywhere like petals fallen after a storm.
They saw Diavel, still standing there for a brief moment as if time had just stopped, his body sliced in half along a merciless diagonal from the hip all the way to the shoulder, a cut so deep there was nothing left to hold the human shape together.
The light from the recent attack still lingered on the edge of the wound like a red flame, and blood of light...this world's vivid data, seeped out in pulses, dripping onto the ground like streams of memory flowing back to where they belonged.
His eyes, wide open, deep and dark as a bottomless abyss... were staring straight at the three of them, not with the determined look he always wore, but with an emotion too vast to name.
It wasn't pain. It wasn't fear. Not exactly regret, either. It was a look of desperate urgency, as if he had seen a future resting in their hands, as if everything he could not do... must now be completed by those who remain.
He opened his mouth, but digital blood poured out first, merging with the battlefield noise, almost drowning out the final words he struggled to breathe out as his voice shattered, second by second:
"Please… finish it…"
Those three words... disjointed, trembling, like wind brushing past the edge of a blade at once an order, a dying wish, and a fragile hope lingering in a moment of life and death.
And then, right after that final gasp...
Diavel's body began to break apart. No scream. No farewell.
His form disintegrated like shards of shattered glass, glowing under the crimson light, falling onto the snowy white stone floor, forming a rain of fragmented memories, leaving behind nothing but a hollow space and a sharp pain in their chests.
A life... extinguished. A flame... that would never burn again.
A belief, sent forth, without any promise it would return.
A breathless silence fell, as if the battlefield, the world, even the space between each heartbeat, had come to a sudden halt.
The broken fragments of Diavel's body still floated mid-air, reflecting every face on the battlefield, eyes widened, lips trembling, expressions of shock, pain, disbelief, as though all were imprisoned in a moment outside the laws of time.
The fragments drifted past Yuna's face, eyes shimmering with tears, lips tightly sealed, unable to form words.
They passed Nautilus, who was gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white, his gaze refusing to accept the reality before him.
They reflected Kirito's face, haunted and furious, teeth clenched, hands trembling at what he had known but failed to prevent.
Asuna, still kneeling on the ground, stared at the falling shards of light as if they were memories about to vanish forever.
And finally, Ren standing amidst clouds of data and shattered light, eyes wide open as though being pulled into a nightmare with no escape.
The wind from the previous attack still whispered, tugging gently at the hem of his cloak, but his body remained frozen, every sense rejecting what his eyes had just witnessed.
Everything seemed frozen in time, like a tragic painting captured in the instant hope faded, a painting that each of them, from this moment onward, would carry in their memories... forever.
"No… why are there so many of them!?"
A panicked scream tore through the silence that had just begun to settle after Diavel's death.
Before anyone could gather their wits, the Ruin Kobold Sentinels suddenly surged in, like a wave of darkness spilling over the horizon.
From the dim hallway behind them, they poured out in numbers double, even triple the original count, their metallic growls echoing within the enclosed space.
"They… they're coming again…"
"There's no way… this can't be happening…!"
The words choked in their throats as the entire raid formation began to crumble. Players who had yet to rise from the stun of that paralyzing attack were now being surrounded from all sides.
Panicked, disordered movements trampled over one another like a LEGO tower smashed to the ground, scattered pieces of bodies and weapons flying everywhere.
At the center, those just struck down by the boss still lay motionless, helplessly watching the iron claws and blades of the Sentinels descend upon them. No one had the time or strength left to defend. No one was still in formation.
Some players, gripped by fear, abandoned their weapons and fled...running blindly through death-filled gaps, as if trying to escape a nightmare.
But the more they ran, the more chaos they brought, trampling over fallen comrades who had yet to rise.
Yet not everyone ran.
Some still stood. Some still gripped their weapons, bloodied and battered, screaming amid the madness.
They knew they could retreat no further.
Not for victory.
Not for glory.
But simply… to stop the next tragedy from unfolding before their very eyes.
In that fractured crowd, Ren clenched his sword, his eyes burning with a rare clarity in the midst of chaos. Everything couldn't end here. Diavel's sacrifice… could not be meaningless.
"Damn it… just as expected, the number of Sentinels has clearly increased." Kirito gritted his teeth, eyes darting across the battlefield that was falling apart piece by piece like a half-burned painting.
In front of him were shattered pieces of armor, broken swords, and streams of digital blood cascading in crimson pixels across the stone floor. Players were retreating in panic, collapsing, or simply frozen in fear.
"Everyone... stay calm! Handle it like we practiced! Team A! Team B! Where the hell are the tankers!? Get over here!!" Kirito shouted, nearly tearing his voice from his throat, but that scream...
...was swallowed whole by the clash of steel, the shrieks of the Kobolds, and the chaotic cries of those fleeing.
No one responded.
No formation reassembled.
No shield wall was raised.
The battlefield had been entirely consumed by chaos. Those who once moved in sync now scattered like broken shadows...running without direction or fighting in hopeless desperation.
Kirito turned his head, eyes burning as if trying to tear apart the panic with sheer will. But he knew, he alone wasn't enough. One person couldn't pull back an army already collapsing.
"No one's listening... Is no one willing to regroup at all...?"
Amid the soundless scream, Kirito clenched the hilt of his sword so tightly that his hand began to bleed. But he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop. Because ahead of him lay the lives of dozens and behind him, a promise yet to be fulfilled.
Standing in front of Asuna, Kirito gritted his teeth, facing the storm in front of him. "Hey, if you get the chance, run… Tell the others to retreat as fast as they can…"
And then, the boss's blade came crashing down like lightning splitting the clear sky.
"GO!!"
Kirito roared, voice hoarse, not just from exhaustion, but from despair as he watched the battlefield crumble bit by bit.
Right after the scream, he swung his pitch-black sword up, intercepting the massive nodachi that came slicing down like a bolt of molten steel.
The clash of metal echoed harshly, sending a shockwave that shattered the marble floor beneath them.
Kirito was pushed back several steps, his feet scraping loudly against the stone in an effort to stay upright...but he didn't fall. He didn't yield.
Then came the second strike, the third, the fourth… not one, not two, nearly all of the boss's following attacks were blocked.
Each impact rang like thunder exploding in his ears, each spark from the swords a blazing fragment of survival.
Kirito, just one person...but standing like an unyielding wall of steel, holding his ground amidst the chaos.
And then, right in that moment...between the monstrous gaps of the boss's swings, a streak of silver light shot through like lightning threading a needle.
Asuna's blade.
It surged forward from behind Kirito, slicing through the paper-thin space between the slashes and plunged straight into the underside of the boss's chin.
A sharp sound rang out as the sword pierced deep, the Kobold Lord's massive head jerked backward, and its towering body froze momentarily like a machine struck in its core.
Kirito turned his head, not yet able to speak, when a firm voice rang out just behind him:
"Don't think saying something like that makes you cool…" Asuna, breathing heavily, eyes blazing. "We're teammates, aren't we…? I can't just... leave my teammate behind."
Amid the labored breathing and the virtual blood thick in the air, a vow had been made...without the need to sheathe her blade. A refusal to retreat. A determination to fight to the very end.
Ren gripped his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white, his gaze quickly sweeping toward Yuna and Nautilus. Both were still struggling to rise amid the smoke and flickering lights, their legs still paralyzed.
He turned and spotted Agil, breathing heavily amidst a barrage of blows from behind, yet still calm in the chaos.
"Please," Ren said, his voice hoarse but steady, "Get the paralyzed ones to safety. We'll hold the boss here."
There was no time for explanations. No room for hesitation.
Agil said nothing. He simply nodded, his eyes locking with Ren's as if confirming something deeply important. Then he turned immediately, lifting one player onto his back and calling others to assist.
Ren didn't wait for anyone to speak. He tightened his grip one more time, slammed his heel against the shattered floor and charged straight at the boss now howling from Asuna's strike.
One step. Two steps. His dark cloak flared in the whirlwind of steel.
Not to defend.
Not to retreat.
But to tear open a path, to dive into the kill zone, to seize every second of survival for those who couldn't defend themselves.
Amid the beast's roars and the fractured screams of panic, one will still surged forward...unyielding.