The power of the Holy Light surges through you once again.

The Holy Light Tree bursts forth with brilliant radiance, like a divine sigh—holy and majestic.

Beneath its glow, the Ghost Riders bow to the ground like a field of wheat swaying in the wind. Their dark armor shatters layer by layer, making a crisp sound like ice crystals breaking.

Orek stares, his mouth slightly agape, frozen in place.

Light shall always dispel darkness!

The Archbishop's command was indeed like a distant divine truth. Only by obeying can one find redemption.

Orek recalled the scene that unfolded here twenty days ago.

That day, he knelt by the cold pool and confessed his failures to the Archbishop. To his surprise, the Archbishop did not rebuke him, nor did he strip him of his title as Frostwall Commander. He only told Orek to return to the Frostwall to reflect, leaving him with a prophecy: If the Frostwall falls to great calamity, return to Holy Light Village. Here, you will feel the Holy Light's power once more, and find redemption.

The Archbishop's words had confused Orek at the time, but now he understood.

He had indeed felt the Holy Light again—not in the way he'd hoped, as a Seer regaining his powers, but he had found redemption all the same.

Orek watched as the Ghost Rider who'd fallen into the pool slowly stood up. His black armor had completely crumbled, revealing a skeleton beneath. The faint blue glow in his eyes faded, replaced by pale, lifeless stillness.

He had been purged by the Holy Light.

Orek silently thanked his own resolve. Two days prior, at Reflection Village, he had asked Lei for her finest warhorse, repeatedly urging her to hide his whereabouts. He had ridden day and night, arriving in Holy Light Village only to face the Wolf King head-on.

And now, the mole's identity seemed clear.

Just then, the Ghost Rider's mask fell off, revealing a wizened face like dried bark.

Terrible.

His hollow eye sockets and pale, bulging eyes seemed to hold eternal secrets.

"You're… Hayward?"

Though the man's face was unrecognizable, Orek felt an inexplicable pull in his heart.

"Mmm…" came a low groan.

The Ghost Rider did not speak, but Orek caught a small detail in his movement, growing more certain of his guess.

It is Hayward!

Memories flooded back. Orek remembered the day he was six, standing at the mouth of noisy, chaotic Flea Alley in the Royal Capital.

On a sunny day, the annual Royal Capital Tournament had just crowned its champion. Hayward, the winner, rode through the streets, drawing cheers from girls and children alike.

Slum kids crowded the alley mouth, their shouts making the colorful banners flutter. Orek clearly remembered that among them, Peter had jumped the highest and yelled the loudest.

That was Orek's first meeting with Holy Light Knight Hayward—back then, he was a hero bathed in light, radiant with pride as he accepted the admiration of the capital's people.

He never thought their second meeting would be like this.

Orek's eyes grew moist.

The Ghost Rider's eye sockets were deep as dry wells. He stared at the Seer without emotion, raising his sword.

Does he want to kill me? Orek's heart tightened. No.

Hayward did not strike. Instead, he turned and walked toward the Wolf King.

At the same time, the bone knights, purged by the Holy Light, surged toward the Wolf King like a tide, their iron swords in hand.

"Impossible! This can't be happening!"

The Wolf King let out a terrified howl that echoed through the Holy Light Woods.

Though he vented his helplessness, his aura remained as steady as a mountain. Dark light flared between his paws, and a wolf spear wreathed in cold, dark mist materialized. He swung it, fending off the bone knights' attacks.

"What are you doing?! What is this mutiny?! We signed a dark pact!"

Swords cut through the wind; the wolf spear crashed like a wave.

Amidst the Wolf King's enraged howls, thirteen bone knights were sent flying into the air, shattering into dust. But the Wolf King did not escape unscathed—two iron swords pierced his body.

You summoned Ghost Riders to win the war, but fate's gears have turned. Now, they are your executioners.

Orek watched the chaos unfold, his heart churning.

Though he had set a trap beforehand, he had no idea what would happen when he stepped into Holy Light Village. He had simply left the unknown to fate.

If the Wolf King had brought a pack of wolves, the outcome would have been different. But he had brought Ghost Riders.

Orek saw a dozen more bone knights thrown aside by the wolf spear, but the Wolf King's situation grew dire—more swords pierced his body. His frame began to shake violently, blood gushing from his wounds.

He's stronger than he was half a year ago, that's for sure.

Witnessing the Wolf King's raw power, Orek felt a flicker of admiration. Even if he hadn't lost his Holy Light, he doubted he could defeat the Wolf King in a one-on-one fight now.

But no matter how strong he was, the Wolf King could not break through the horde of purged knights. After taking several more wounds, his defeat became inevitable.

Hayward was closing in on the Wolf King.

After the Wolf King shattered three bone knights, a narrow gap opened in the encirclement. Hayward slipped through and swung his sword with all his might.

A flash of cold light—Will's head flew from his shoulders.

The wolf's head, streaked with blood, arced through the sunlight and thudded to the ground at the Seer's feet.

The Wolf King is dead…

Blood and mud splattered onto Orek's trousers. He let out a long sigh of relief.

Since the fall of the Frostwall, a heavy burden had pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. Now, staring at the Wolf King's severed head, a wave of relief, like a gentle stream, flowed through his chest.

It is the gods who have saved their people!

In that moment, Orek wanted nothing more than to kneel before the Holy Light Tree and thank the gods for their redemption.

But just then, he saw Hayward collapse to the ground, his pale eyes fixed on him.

The Holy Light had purged the Ghost Riders. Now they would return to the long night.

But perhaps he carried unresolved worries.

Orek sensed his thoughts and walked over.

As he moved, the purged knights fell around him one by one, their bodies dissolving into white mist that merged with the mud.

The Seer knelt beside Hayward.

He was not only a skilled knight—he had once been part of the Frostwall Legion.

After taking command of the Frostwall, Orek had pored over the Legion's historical records. He had read about Hayward: after winning the Royal Capital Tournament, he had been drafted by the Queen to serve as the Legion's chief ranger at the Frostwall. Later, he had vanished while patrolling beyond the wall, never to be heard from again.

A soft glow surrounded Hayward, and his form dissolved into a ball of white light.

In the light, the Seer seemed to witness Hayward's entire life:

Winning the Royal Capital Tournament; arriving at the Frostwall as a ranger, encountering the Wolf King while patrolling beyond the wall; being killed by the Wolf King and his guards, then resurrected as a Ghost Rider via a dark pact; saving a white wolf, who tampered with the pact to make him serve the White Wolf King; the pact being altered again, forcing him to serve Wolf King Will.

The Seer whispered, "Purged by the Holy Light, you will no longer be bound by the dark pact. You will never be summoned as a Ghost Rider again. Lay down your pain, and rest in peace."

Hayward seemed to understand the comfort. He closed his eyes, and the light slowly sank into the ground, leaving only a faint tremor in the air.

It's all over…

A wave of exhaustion washed over Orek. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and fall asleep.

He knelt on both knees, bathed in warm sunlight, and opened his arms toward the Holy Light Tree.

But it's not over yet.

That mole is the true instigator, a shadow hanging over everything.

Only by unmasking and punishing him can true redemption be achieved.

Orek's eyes, which had been fixed on the ground, slowly opened.