Arin leapt.

  He drove the blade directly into the fracture point at the demon’s core.

  Light exploded outward—pure, blinding, absolute.

  Not flame.

  Not shadow.

  Balance.

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  Kael’Zareth screamed as radiant chains formed from nothing, wrapping around its limbs, wings, throat.

  The Veil began to reweave across the sky.

  But it was incomplete.

  It required an anchor.

  Arin felt himself unraveling.

  Memories flickered—

  Wheatfields in summer.

  His father’s laughter.

  The first spirit bowing before him.

  “You cannot erase me,” the demon thundered.

  “I don’t need to,” Arin answered softly.

  “I only need to hold you.”

  The fracture mark spread across his entire body, becoming threads of luminous white.

  He stepped fully into the tear.

  The Veil sealed.

  The sky mended.

  Atmas dissolved like mist at dawn.

  Kael’Zareth vanished beyond mortal reach once more.

  And Arin Vale was gone.