World in the Painting Ishruna · Sword of Vowed Victory

The old man drifted lightly to the ground, his burly, upright body rapidly shrinking like a deflated balloon until he returned to his original gaunt, stooped form.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

He coughed violently, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. His silver eyes grew ever dimmer, nearly losing all their luster, while the fire in their depths was almost completely extinguished.

The King of Winter Wolves landed steadily on the ground as well, but immediately collapsed to its knees. A huge blossom of blood burst across its chest. The old man's slash had severed its other foreleg and cut through fur, muscle, and bone, exposing the heart within.

The King of Winter Wolves was not an ordinary creature of flesh and blood. Its heart was where its soul resided; only that could drive its enormous body.

"Now—!"

Gray seized the opportunity as well. Olga Marie cast layers upon layers of enhancement magecraft beside her, pushing all of Gray's attributes beyond mortal limits.

Vast amounts of magical energy flooded into the Holy Sword in her hand. She could feel its temperature steadily rising. The wind and snow around them unknowingly came to a halt, while the frozen earth beneath her feet melted away, green shoots breaking through the soil.

Golden radiance rose from every direction before flowing into the Holy Sword in Gray's hand. The survivors of Elus Castle all turned toward her, their unease gradually easing.

Gray could feel the weight of the Holy Sword. It was not merely the sword's own weight, but the countless unfulfilled wishes dwelling within it. Those wishes were so light, yet they nearly crushed you beneath their weight.

You stood there hesitantly at the very back, Holy Sword in hand as you carved out a path toward the future. Though your heart held