Leon lay on the cold, cracked ground, staring at the empty sky where Fenrir had disappeared. His body refused to move, his limbs trembling from exhaustion, but the real pain wasn't physical.
It was the hollowness in his chest.
A few minutes ago, he had stood side by side with his strongest companion. A beast born from his struggles, one that had fought with him through countless battles.
And now…
Gone.
> [Fenrir has been sealed in the Divine Realm.]
[Your Contract with Fenrir remains, but connection is restricted.]
The words burned into his vision. It was a cruel reminder that Fenrir wasn't dead—but he might as well be.
He couldn't reach him. He couldn't call him back. He couldn't do anything.
> "...I'm weak."
The realization hit harder than any blow Seraphiel had landed.
Leon had spent two lifetimes preparing for this world, becoming stronger, smarter, and more ruthless. But in front of an existence like Seraphiel, none of it had mattered.
He had been treated like an insect.
No. Less than that.
He dug his fingers into the dirt, his breaths ragged. He wanted to scream, to curse, to rage against the unfairness of it all—but the crushing powerlessness held him down like chains.
For the first time since his regression, doubt crept into his mind.
> "Am I just a fool pretending to be strong?"
Was all his knowledge meaningless?
Was this world truly beyond his control?
A hollow laugh escaped his lips, bitter and self-mocking. He had believed he was untouchable—that no one could stop him.
And yet, when the Divine made their move, he was nothing more than a helpless spectator.
> "...I let him down."
Fenrir had fought until the last moment. Defiant. Unyielding.
But in the end, Leon had failed him.
Something inside him cracked.
The fire that had always burned in him—the relentless ambition that had driven him forward—flickered.
For the first time since he returned to the past, doubt took root.
> "...Is there even a way to fight them?"
The sky remained silent.
The world did not care.
Leon clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms, but he barely felt the pain.
> "If I'm too weak to stop them…"
His breath was uneven, his body trembling—but in the depths of that despair, something else stirred.
A single ember, refusing to die out.
> "...Then I will become strong enough."
His vision was blurred, his body battered, but his mind was already racing.
This wasn't over.
They had taken Fenrir from him. They had humiliated him.
But if the Divine Realm thought this was the end, they were wrong.
Leon dragged himself up, every muscle screaming in protest. He wasn't done.
He couldn't be.
> "Wait for me, Fenrir…"
> "I swear, I'll bring you back."
Even if he had to tear open the gates of the Divine Realm himself.
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