Reincarnated as a failed hero?! Watch me Defy Fate! - Chapter 204

Chapter 204: Stand Before the Fallen
Patriarch’s POV:

Time is slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

The cursed skill [Blackheart]—my final trump card, the forbidden blade of the Blackmore bloodline—has only eight seconds of life remaining. Eight seconds of hellish power. Eight seconds to defy fate.

My heart is on fire. Every beat sends a jolt of agony across my ribs, and my blood feels like molten iron. But I push forward. Not because I want to, but because I must.

I am the Patriarch of Blackmore.

If this is to be my last stand, then so be it. But I will not fall without ensuring Princess Aria lives—and without dragging at least one of these Overlord bastards into the grave with me.

I lunge forward—nothing but a blur of shadow and fury—my cursed aura swirling like a tempest. I meet Nosef and Lucius in a deadly dance of steel and death.

In this form, I can match them.

Nosef, the Blood Lord, snarls as I carve a gaping wound into his porcelain chest. He howls, more in fury than pain.”You insolent mongrel! You dare mar the perfection of my body?! You’ll pay dearly for this, old man!”

His once-elegant demeanor is shattered. The rage in his eyes mirrors a beast cornered and wounded.

Beside him, Lucius von Starlight—the traitor, the fallen Saint of Solis—fights with terrifying composure. Even with one arm severed, his blade does not falter. He parries and counters as though he were born to battle gods.

“Hoh…” he chuckles as our blades clash. “So the old wolf still has fangs after all. Fascinating…”

There’s no fear in his voice—only curiosity.

We fight like beasts under a shattered sky.

Their magic surges against my blade, but I shut it down with [Gaze of the Blackheart], rendering their incantations useless. My strikes bite deep into their flesh, keeping them on the defensive.

Slash!

Another clean hit tears into Nosef’s chest. He stumbles, snarling, blood pouring down his torso. He’s losing ground. He knows it. Lucius, too, begins to falter beneath the storm of my assault.

“You wanted a fight?” I growl. “Then come—let this dying wolf show you how a true Patriarch dies!”

With renewed ferocity, I attack both simultaneously—slashing, twisting, dodging. Each motion is agony. Each strike a scream from my dying body. But I endure. I was not born to die on my knees.

Suddenly, I feel something shift.

Their eyes change—no longer desperate. They look calm. Too calm.

And then, I understand.

My skill is about to run out.

They sense it. The curse of [Blackheart] is unraveling.

A sinister smile curls across Nosef’s lips.

“You’ve entertained me long enough,” he says. “But now, I’ll show you the depths of despair. Unlocking 70% capacity.”

His blood forms an immense spiral around him—thick, heavy, malevolent. It pulses with infernal energy. His eyes burn red, his aura explodes outward like a supernova of hatred.

Lucius steps forward, his severed arm replaced by a lattice of dark energy. He lifts his blade and channels both light and shadow into its core.

“[Light and Darkness Sword],” he declares softly.

It’s blasphemy. Holy magic wrapped in corruption. A paradox made manifest. He’s fused light and dark—something no mage should even be able to survive, let alone wield.

And together… they charge.

Their speed is monstrous. Their coordination flawless. My blade meets theirs in an explosion of sparks. The air trembles with each impact.

But I refuse to back down. Not now.

I gather every remaining ounce of strength, knowing this might be my last move.

I scream, pouring the remnants of my soul into my sword.

“[Blackmore Swordsmanship: JUDGEMENT]!!”

My aura erupts. It gathers into the edge of my greatsword like a thousand screaming souls. The blade gleams with unfiltered rage—Blackmore wrath passed down from generations.

I swing.

BOOM!

The earth ruptures. Shockwaves rip through the battlefield. My attack crashes into Nosef and Lucius with the weight of all my pain, all my loss, all my love.

They scream as they’re thrown backward—blood spraying from their bodies. Wounded. Damaged.

But not dead.

I stagger forward, breath ragged. I can barely keep my eyes open.

“Why… won’t you fall…?!” I shout. “Damn you both! Die already!!”

But then they laugh.

Through the blood and the smoke, they laugh. A low, cruel, echoing laughter.

“Look at yourself,” Lucius says, smug.

I glance down.

My aura… is gone.

The curse of [Blackheart] has ended.

My body collapses. My knees hit the ground. My sword drops beside me with a dull clang.

I try to stand—just once more—but my limbs fail me.

And then, I see it.

Nosef, walking slowly toward me. His wounds already healing, his grin wide. In his hand is a blade of blood—shaped like a scythe, pulsing with malice.

“It’s over, old man,” he says. “Time to rest.”

He raises the blade.

I close my eyes.

I cannot fight anymore.

“…I’m sorry, Naoki,” I whisper. “I’ve done all I could…”

“…Ayame… was it enough?”

I smile, faint and broken.

The wind is silent.

I think of my children. I think of Lilia. Of Aria, fighting despite the odds. Of Ayame, smiling in the field of violet flowers.

I let go.

Everything goes dark. Sound disappears. My thoughts drift… weightless… quiet.

No pain.

Just peace.

…

Nao’s POV:

The sky is painted crimson.

A storm of demonic energy swirls above me as I arrive on the battlefield—this war-torn wasteland where the clash of legends took place. The stench of blood, smoke, and death saturates the air. The earth itself cries out from the torment it has endured.

I see it all in an instant.

The heroes have fallen.

Their proud banners lie in tatters, their bodies scattered like broken dolls across the ground. And there—at the heart of the ruin—lies Princess Aria, bleeding and motionless, her once-brilliant light dimming.

But even now, one figure still stands—barely.

My father.

The Patriarch of Blackmore, the man I have feared, respected, and never truly understood… still draws breath.

He is a ruin of his former self. His once-formidable frame trembles. His mighty sword lies buried in the dirt beside him. The terrifying aura of his forbidden skill is gone—burned out. His body slumps forward, helpless and open to the blade.

And above him stands a monster.

A man cloaked in blood—a demon overlord named Nosef—smiling like a butcher admiring his prize. His weapon is raised, ready to take my father’s life.

Envi in ​​my mind said, “Please Nao… save Patrirach..”

Envi sounded like he was sad and angry. He didn’t want to see my comrades and people close to me get hurt.

In my mind I said, “Don’t worry my Partner..just leave it to me.”

In the next heartbeat—I move.

The wind screams as I launch forward, my body wreathed in dark magic. In a blink, I appear between them, my blade blocking the killing strike meant for the man who raised me.

CLANG!

The shockwave flings dust and debris into the air. Nosef staggers back in shock, his eyes widening.

I caught my father who almost fell to the ground. I hugged him and laid him down gently on the ground.

“What?! Who the hell are—?!”

But before he can finish, I speak again, my voice low and cold:

“Did you think I’d let you kill my father while I still draw breath?”

Lucius appears beside Nosef, equally surprised. “Naoki? But Xir was supposed to—”

I cut him off.

“You mean this Xir?” I reach into my cloak and toss a small, crystalline object into the air.

It spins slowly before embedding itself in the ground with a crack.

The Core of Xir.

Their comrade. Their supposed trump card.

Gone.

I defeated him. And now I stand here, against them.

The air turns still.

Their confusion turns to fury. Demonic energy flares as both Overlords unleash their power, eyes glowing with hatred.

I looked at their status:

—

Name: Nosef Vermoryth

Title: The Crimson Sovereign, 3rd Rank Demon Lord

Level: 110 (Weakened)

—

Name: Lucius Valzareth

Title: The Lightbane Sovereign, Emperor of Light and Darkness, 2nd Rank Demon Lord

Level: 115 (Weakened)

—

Envi and I were surprised to see their levels were higher than mine. Envi said that it was impossible to defeat them, but there was something strange, they were affected by the weakened status. Neither of us understood it but it meant that they were now weaker than their normal versions.

We have a chance to win!

“Runa,” I whisper.

From my Grimoire of the Darkness, a glowing rune circle appears and a small figure steps through—a small black cat slowly turned into a big cat Nekomata..

My familiar. My companion..

“Take this,” I say, handing her a small pouch filled with [Divine Healing Beans]—a sacred relic of pure light magic, powerful enough to stabilize even a dying soul.

“Distribute these to the wounded. Start with the Patriarch and Princess Aria. Then evacuate the rest of the heroes.”

She hesitates for a moment, sensing the immense magical pressure rising from the demons.

“I’ll protect you,” I say gently, my eyes still locked onto the enemies ahead. “Go. Now.”

She nods and vanishes in a blur of speed.

I spread my arms wide.

“[Shogun Dominion].”

A field of oppressive dark energy explodes from me, stretching across the battlefield like an invisible hand. It twists the flow of time around my enemies—slowing their movements, weakening their responses. Lucius and Nosef both stagger, their limbs moving like they’re fighting underwater.

“This is your punishment,” I declare, voice echoing with wrath. “You struck down my comrades. You tortured Princess Aria. You nearly killed my father.”

I lift my hand to the sky. The clouds churn above me, drawn by the gravity of my power.

“Now… Die.”

Dark flames rise from the earth, twisting like serpents. My Dark Magic saturates the air, responding to my fury, my pain, my resolve.

Lucius grits his teeth and swings his cursed blade of light and shadow, sending a beam of energy toward me.

I raise my palm.

“[Dark Magic: Veil of the Phantom!].”

The beam shatters against my barrier of nothingness. I dash forward in an instant and land a kick that sends him flying backward.

Nosef retaliates with blood magic, forming a thousand spears of crimson. They all fly toward me, howling with deadly intent.

I raise my sword, now enveloped in black fire.

“[Phantom Slash 10X!]”

With one swing, I unleashed 10 times cleave and break through every spear—shattering them like glass.

The two Overlords regroup, furious now. Their magic pulses with desperation as they realize the balance has shifted.

“You insolent brat!” Nosef howls.

I say nothing.

Instead, I step forward. Calm. Controlled. My body resonates with years of training, of restraint, of holding back to protect others.

But not anymore.

I’m not the scared son who once hid in the shadows of his father’s legacy.

I am Naoki von Blackmore, The Heir of the Darkness.

And this war ends with me.

The battle begins.

Our blades meet again and again in a storm of destruction. I fight not just with strength—but with precision. With mastery. My blows are calculated. My defense, impenetrable.

Even as the Overlords combine their strength, I push them back—inch by inch.

Behind me, I see Runa carrying my father’s limp body toward safety. His eyes flicker open for a brief second.

Slowly I felt relieved, but suddenly my emotions flared up seeing what they did not only to my father, but also to my comrades.

I clenched my fists and activated my traits and said, “Oh my enemies, are you ready to die?”