On the other side of the Valley of the End, the lofty figure shrouded in golden light slowly descended.
Isadella coldly gazed down upon the damaged, kneeling pitch-black mecha before her.
Through the mecha's breach, one could barely make out the slender figure in a red-cloud-patterned black robe, wearing a whirlpool mask.
In fact, the reason their battle had lasted so long was because the King of the Imaginary Zone had held back.
As for why she held back, it was naturally because the figure before her so closely resembled the Cain in Isadella's memory.
However—that faint expectation that had surged in her heart eventually turned into a cold reality.
Isadella's crimson eyes lowered, a ripple she couldn't hide flickering within them.
"You... you're not him."
"You're not Cain."
For the first time, that indifferent and cold voice carried sadness and loss.
The young man inside the mecha was extremely similar to the original Cain. This similarity extended to the mecha he piloted, the subtle details of his clothing, appearance, physique, and even his voice. In fact, "similar" wasn't strong enough; they were exactly alike.
But a brief exchange was all it took to understand the stark difference between them.
The image of that valorous figure, continuously remembered, beautified, and replayed in Isadella's mind throughout her millennium of longing, was so heroic.
In her memories, the first time they met, Cain had fearlessly stood against the tide of demons besieging the city.
In every subsequent battle, he was always the first to charge into the fray, seemingly never caring for his own injuries or safety.
He was the very embodiment of the knightly virtues of "Valor" and "Sacrifice," inspiring the demoralized Alliance Forces in countless desperate situations with his reputation as the undefeated king.
Later, he even single-handedly held back Vortigern's half-form, the Blood Prince, and several other legendary figures from the Blood Tribe beyond the Valley of the End.
He had not hesitated, even at the cost of his own life and soul.
It was that heroic figure that Isadella yearned for, the reason she had even established the Imaginary Zone—to rediscover that original conviction.
But now, Isadella could not detect a shred of that familiar presence from the past in this person before her.
He was cautious, cunning.
He never traded blow for blow. Instead, he used the most despicable and treacherous tactics to secure victory.
Even when an opportunity arose, he wouldn't charge headlong. Instead, he would carefully lay traps and employ tactics, striving to control the entire situation, always thinking thrice before acting.
This style of warfare was the exact opposite of the original Black Knight, Cain.
The boy before her was not the original Cain.
Since even his mind and personality, his spirit and way of thinking, and his inner soul were no longer present... then, even if his abilities and body were similar, it was meaningless. Just as Merlin once said, this was nothing more than necromancy defiling Cain's body and departed soul. The undead creature born of this act, even with the same flesh, was nothing more than a desecration of the original Cain.
However, before Isadella, faced with the questioning of the King of the Imaginary Zone, Shiayar merely nodded slightly.
"Yes, I am not Cain at all. That perfect, valorous Cain who would sacrifice himself for the greater good, to bring Daybreak to the Darkness—frankly, he never existed."
"The real me is just someone who likes to think before acting. To put it nicely, cautious; to put it harshly, a coward afraid of death, prioritizing survival above all else. I've never been so righteous and noble; those solemn words of justice were just lines to curry favor. I never really had the resolve to sacrifice the individual for the collective."
Shiayar's words were calm, yet held no hint of doubt.
"Relying on that so-called undying body, I crafted a perfect, glorious-looking persona of nobility and righteousness. Once that undying body disperses, that shameful persona will naturally vanish in the sunlight, with nowhere to hide."
His complexion was pallid as he spoke, word by word. "In plain terms, I'm just a despicable internet fraudster. Using what wasn't mine, I created a perfect online 'prince charming' persona. With it, I not only scammed a woman's money but also her feelings, driving her to irredeemable folly. Any person with proper values would probably scoff at such an internet dating scammer."
Shiayar couldn't help but chuckle. As he spoke, he controlled the Black Knight Mecha and slowly raised his long sword. "And now, I'm even audacious enough to destroy that woman's enterprise, to undo her lifelong perseverance and hard work. Looking back, I do seem quite like the so-called Destined Great Villain."
Shiayar's gaze focused.
At the center of the damaged Black Knight Mecha, the Sun Furnace, which had previously dimmed, roared back to life.
It burst forth with an incomparably dazzling white light, far more vigorous and potent than before.
The entire Black Knight Mecha radiated a crimson glow. It grew intensely hot, and a humming sound filled the air, as if it could disintegrate at any moment.
Overload.
This was a skill activated at the cost of draining the life of the magictech furnace core.
If the battle could not be resolved within thirty seconds, the magictech furnace core and the Black Knight Mecha would collapse and disintegrate without the enemy having to lift a finger.
"If that's the case, let me do what a great villain should."
"King—"
Shiayar, gripping the reassembled pitch-black greatsword, pointed it straight at the girl before him.
Blood Incineration activated.
All the spiritual power that remained in the depths of Shiayar's soul burned at once, turning into azure flames around the Black Knight Mecha.
Persona? An online romance scammer?
Isadella silently repeated these unfamiliar terms in her mind.
Does he mean that he used necromancy to usurp Cain's body and read his soul's memories, which is why he resembles Cain so much?
However, sensing the enormous aura that suddenly surged from the pitch-black mecha, Isadella's expression involuntarily stiffened.
She could feel that this was the opponent's final strike.
It was also a desperate strike, burning all his remaining spiritual power and strength.
Facing such a desperate, all-or-nothing blow, even she had to become serious.
The Golden Sword was raised high, immense power gathering at its tip.
The next moment, she saw the mecha turn into a pitch-black meteor, carrying an invincible momentum as it charged straight toward her.
Block this strike, then capture him and bring him back to the Royal Capital. I'll interrogate him thoroughly about how Cain's body was replicated. Although Camelot has turned to ruins and even the Crimson Moon has fallen, I'm not too concerned. With the Crimson Moon as a reference, I've reached the Divine Realm through my own strength. Even though the Crimson Moon has fallen, I myself can still live forever. As long as I exist, the Imaginary Zone will persist. Camelot and those old phantoms can be rebuilt sooner or later.
Thinking this, Isadella's Sacred Sword erupted with a fierce glow as she slashed towards the approaching pitch-black meteor.
A breath later, Isadella suddenly realized her hand was empty.
She saw Dragon Serpent Mercury, the 'invincible metal' as black as ink, willingly dissipate. The mecha, whose defenses had caused her some trouble, dispersed on its own.
Inside the mecha, the slender figure in the red-cloud-patterned black robe simply lowered the metal greatsword.
Then, abandoning all resistance, he moved forward to meet Isadella's Sacred Sword, a blade capable of piercing adamantine.
Isadella's eyes abruptly contracted, but it was already too late.
SHLICK.
The razor-sharp Sacred Sword pierced through the slender body.
It exited his back, a grotesque flower of blood blooming in the desolate canyon.
CLATTER.
The whirlpool mask shattered with the force of the blow, breaking into scattered fragments.
Beneath the mask, the face of a young man with black hair and black eyes was revealed.