The world seemed to pause for a moment, unsure if what was coming was a new dawn or merely a pause before the end. Behind the nearly destroyed altar, Joanna stood alone, her body drenched in blood—blood of the protectors, blood of the enemies, and her own blood. The blue flames still flickered faintly around her feet, marking each step she took as something more than just human.
Mitsuyori, who had been guarding Iris and Nobuzan since the night before, realized that the world outside the altar had changed. The sounds of the Earth's marching army were no longer heard, no cries of victory, only whispers of fear lingering in every corner of the city's ruins.
Above the gray sky, dark clouds gathered, revealing flashes of lightning dancing as if responding to the tense state of the earth. A magical aura enveloped Joanna, awakening the ancient power dormant within every Thirtos witch. The deep and dangerous ritual, once taught by her ancestors, now vividly appeared in Joanna's mind. She felt waves of magic flowing through her hands, guiding her to control the elements around her, uniting nature and her will.
"If this is the end," she whispered to the wind, "then I will face it with all my strength." The flow of magical energy began to form a circle radiating light, depicting runes that could only be understood by those trained. Every second felt like time slowed down, and with each breath, Joanna understood that she was no longer alone; the spirits of fallen warriors stood with her, strengthening the burning determination within her heart.
Joanna gazed at the horizon where the dark blue flag of Earth once flew atop the tallest towers of Gaia. She raised her hand, Michael's voice now merging with every word she spoke. Around her, the air felt heavy, filled with invisible energy—as if the universe was preparing itself for a greater battle. Dark shadows haunted the ruins, not far from where she stood, creating a creeping sense of dread within her soul.
"The blood that has been shed tonight belongs not only to humans, not only to the sky, but to a world that refuses to be named. I, Joanna, bear the price of this blood—and with the authority of Michael, I banish all powers that are not born from this land." Her voice echoed, the grains of magical sound flowing with her words transforming into waves of power, pushing back the approaching darkness. A driving energy radiated from her body, forming a shimmering aura that protected the weak souls nearby.
One step forward, and the ground trembled. The blue flames at the altar spread to the corridors, towers, and even the city walls, forming a glyph of banishment. The blue light enveloped the glyph's rotation with ancient symbols that flickered—each symbol sustained by the faith and blood of the ancestors who had fought for this world. The remaining Earth soldiers suddenly felt a searing heat on their skin, a booming voice in their heads, and a magical push they could not resist; a deep fear crept among them, making them weaker than ever.
General Valen, who led the remnants of the Earth army, screamed, "This… this is no longer war! This is judgment!" Yet Joanna's voice was louder than all their roars. She felt the power flowing to her, like the waves of the ocean, embraced by unseen dimensions. She was the bridge between two worlds, and for one night, she was the creator of fate.
Joanna's blue glyph began to shine brightly, reflecting in every tear, every drop of blood, and every prayer still whispered on the soil of Gaia. The paladins and surviving people emerged from hiding, astonished to see the Earth soldiers—once as strong as steel—now falling, staggering, even fleeing, leaving their weapons behind. Joanna's magical power, combined with the collective will of the people of Gaia, created an irresistible pull; it felt as if the entire world was participating in this battle, not just Joanna alone.
The blue flames drove them away not with hatred, but with the eternity of will. No one could resist. The remaining Earth armada tried to fire magical cannons, summon automatons, or activate protective glyphs. All in vain. Joanna's glyph swallowed all enemy energy, transforming it into light that repelled foreign powers. Even the Five Pillars of Dominion were forced to retreat—their weapons slowly crumbling in the unquenchable blue flames. Amidst the chaos, the sky seemed to tremble, as if responding to the raging battle. Dark clouds danced, and lightning flashed as a silent witness to the soaring and blazing magical power.
Outside the city, the remnants of the Earth forces turned back, gazing at the land of Gaia now covered in blue light. They realized that this land no longer belonged to anyone except those who could bear its greatest wounds. However, that feeling of despair was swayed by the strangeness surrounding Joanna's aura. It was as if, in this disaster, there was a hidden promise and hope, a power that could change the course of fate. The sound of magic vibrated in the wind, calling those brave enough to believe in it.
Just as Joanna's blue flames took control of the last land of Gaia, a soft yet deafening voice descended from the sky. Golden wings spread wide, and from the swirling clouds, Gabriel descended—his body tall, with an eternal face, carrying a heavenly trumpet that had not been blown since the First Spiral War. The light accompanying him formed a stunning silhouette that seeped into the souls of the onlookers. A rumbling voice that surpassed the noise of war felt as if it drove them back to their conscience.
Gabriel stepped onto the ground before Joanna, his eyes filled with sympathy and regret. He felt the weight of her soul, connected to every wounded being. "Joanna, you have borne blood and a name that cannot be forgiven. But the sky cannot remain silent any longer. You demand a price that even the angels fear to pay." His voice, though gentle, was filled with undeniable authority, as if he spoke on behalf of divine power. The surroundings seemed to tremble, as if swaying to the harmony of his words, the magical power awakening echoes of something greater.
Joanna, still with blue flames in her eyes, replied without fear, "Gabriel, I have paid with blood, with a name, with the entire world that is lost. You come not to judge, but to choose whether the sky will forget this world or remember it along with all its sins."
Around them, the air vibrated, filled with the remaining magical energy from the final battle. Amidst the dust and remnants of blazing magic, this realm spoke in whispers that could be heard by the sensitive; the song of stained souls vibrated along with the palette of red and purple igniting on the horizon, creating a cross of evidence of the sacrifices made.
Gabriel gazed at the scorched earth, observing the hiding people, the angels remaining in the sky, and the protectors who had now lost everything they once loved. "I come to be a witness, not a judge. But the world must know: the price of this blood is not yet finished."
The blue flames licking the earth emitted a flicker of light that seemed to dance, awakening the ancient power long dormant. Some angels, as if summoned by that aura, tried to revive memories of a better presence—once a symbol of hope before emptiness engulfed this world.
After Gabriel descended, the remaining Seven Heavenly Angels reunited in the ruins of the tower. They saw Joanna standing amidst the sea of blue flames, surrounded by the surviving people and protectors, as well as two mothers of the world holding tightly to their children's names.
Just as this grim image settled, a voice echoed among them, like a mantra creating a magical field: "Blood and name are the bridge connecting us to fate." The source of that call was unclear, but everyone felt it, as if connected by an invisible thread of power, awakening a sense of trust and hope amidst the darkness.
The surviving Earth forces retreated from all of Gaia. The streets of Thirtos slowly emptied of the sound of iron boots, replaced by the hesitant steps of the people—emerging from hiding, gazing at Joanna and Gabriel, wondering if this new world was truly better or merely a wound yet to fester.
Joanna felt her hands tremble, the old wounds on her body burning. She knew that the blood she had shed belonged not only to the enemy but to herself. She looked at Gabriel, and for the first time, the two angels bowed to each other. The wind blowing carried the scent of charred remains, remnants of the battle that changed their fates. In the distance, smoke still billowed high, blurring the boundary between sky and earth. With all the magical power bound to this land, Joanna felt as if the spirits of her ancestors, long imprisoned in memory, were now whispering in her ear—encouraging and reminding her of her sacred duty as a true protector.
"I do not ask the world to forget," Joanna said. "I only want one thing—let the name, blood, and hope that survive today… live a little longer before the world demands new blood once again."
Amidst her words, magical power surged, seeping into the earth, empowering the struggling plants in the tainted soil. A soft light glowed from her hands, strengthening the desire to recreate what had been lost, weaving back the threads of life severed by war and betrayal.
Gabriel nodded, his wings fluttering gently. "And I will be a witness to that price of blood—until the world itself decides to forgive or destroy everything once again." Gabriel's voice echoed, filled with unmatched grace and authority. Within it lay ancient power, flowing freely like an unbroken river. The magical force Gabriel possessed, as the enforcer of justice and messenger between worlds, had become a source of strength for Joanna, binding them together in a shared purpose: to restore balance between the world of magic and the real world.
That day, the entire land of Gaia was cleansed of the Earth forces. Joanna, with Michael's fire and Fitran's blood in her veins, became the new protector—not merely a bearer of a name but a guardian of a legacy that could not be erased by anyone. In the sky, reddened by the light of dawn, the remaining magical beings began to gather. They were fairies and elves unseen, watching from the shadows, ready to assist in restoring Gaia's power. Magic, once thought weak, now rose again, filling empty spaces with unexpected life. Their calls merged into a song that brought strength, seeping into the souls of everyone who heard it, igniting a spirit brave enough to challenge uncertainty.
The people began to gather in the Thirtos square, embracing one another in silence. The remaining protectors rebuilt the altar, inscribing their names and their children's on stones that now glowed blue. The stones seemed alive, sparkling under their touch, absorbing the energy of the new dawn. Behind the altar, magical light began to form beautiful images of the past, presenting memories of love, sorrow, and unquenchable hope. Every name etched was a promise, a vow that they would not be forgotten.
Joanna and Gabriel stood side by side, gazing at the sun beginning to rise over a new world filled with wounds, yet—for the first time—without foreign rulers, without war, without the sounds of conquerors. Blood may not have stopped flowing, but for a moment, the world took a new breath. In that silent moment, Joanna felt the magical pulse around them, as if the earth welcomed back the energy of its protectors. In her heart, she prayed that the power guiding them would not only lead but also protect and direct them toward a better future—and there she vowed to fulfill her role as a protector who would never retreat.