Was it an illusion?
No.
Within the Heart Chapter, although most of the Decayer's and Little Demon Host's abilities had been suppressed, they could still tell whether someone was real or fake.
In the Decayer's perception, the "Elan" before it showed neither the energy fluctuations of an illusionary construct nor the single frequency of a projection.
What it sensed was a calm, intricate presence with a unique soul wavelength...
That clear sensation was like touching an ancient tree with one's hand. Its grain, roughness, even the withered decay accumulated through the years could all be felt distinctly.
And Elan... it knew him too well.
His attire, his details, even the aura he gave off simply standing still—all of it was exactly the same as Elan's.
The Decayer did not believe Angel could, in an instant, read through the memories it had accumulated over thousands of years and recreate the "Elan" buried at the end of time.
What was more, when Angel had told it not to "reject" this earlier, it had merely rested quietly. It had not recalled any details related to "Elan" at all.
So, once every needless guess had been ruled out, only one answer remained...
Elan was the real Elan!
The moment it reached that conclusion, a silent thunderclap seemed to explode in its heart.
Its mind went completely blank.
Only its gaunt, shriveled body involuntarily leaned forward slightly, as though an invisible thread were drawing it onward.
Pause, lean. Step, halt.
With slow, staggering steps like those of an old man, it approached that upright figure.
The instant it arrived before "Elan," its throat convulsed. It wanted to call his name as casually as it had back then.
Yet its lips trembled for a long time. It could not force them open, nor could it make