Leon tore below the red do like a dark cot, the wind howling around him as he pushed straight toward where Amael clashed with Sirius.
His heartbeat steadied. His thoughts sharpened.
This was it.
The mont he’d been waiting for.
Everything lined up perfectly—the timing, the chaos, the distraction. A window so narrow even Nesis couldn’t slip a hand into it. If he moved fast enough, if he struck decisively, he could seize both Sins before she could attempt anything.
Jayden showing up had been... an inconvenience. But nothing more.
A ripple on the surface of a plan already set in motion.
Once Wrath and Sloth were his again, everything would fall back into place. His path forward would finally—
"...!"
A surge of killing intent suddenly slamd into him.
Leon stopped mid-air, instincts screaming, and darted backward. A split second later, a massive bolt of lightning crashed down where he had just been. The explosion shook the ground far below, the shockwave tearing a crater open and flinging stone and rubble into the air.
Sparks flickered in Leon’s eyes.
He knew that mana.
"What are you doing..." Hee muttered, his eyes scanning the swirling dust.
A silhouette stepped out, surrounded by crackling arcs of electricity. Her mana roared like a thunderstorm given human form.
"Alphonse," Leon spat, eyes narrowing.
Sylvia stood before him, her sword materializing in her hand, wrapped in a violent sheath of lightning.
"You’re not getting the two Sins, Leon Grimlock," she said.
Leon’s expression instantly dropped several degrees.
"What did you say?"
"You heard ," Sylvia replied.
A thin, humorless smile tugged at Leon’s lips. It didn’t reach his eyes—they were frost..
"I see... so you’ve finally decided to betray ." His gaze sharpened. "I had my suspicions, but tell —do you really think stopping here is going to save that beloved person of yours?"
Sylvia just stayed silent.
Leon chuckled.
"The Iris Project is already crawling around this area. They’ll try to steal the Sins the mont they see an opening. Lisandra’s gone, you’re alone, and frankly—" He scoffed, "what exactly do you think you can do? Worse, what do you think you can do against ?"
"You’re misunderstanding sothing," Sylvia said, raising her sword. Lightning spiraled around her arm and danced up the blade. "You may have an edge, but I’m confident enough to handle you. I’ve lived longer than you think. I’ve survived things you can’t even imagine."
Leon’s eyes glinted dangerously.
"That was your last warning. Keep talking and I really won’t care—I’ll kill you."
His sword shimred into existence, the air warping around the dark tal.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
Then both figures vanished in a blur.
-BOOOOOOM!!!
***
Milleia stood frozen for a heartbeat, worry flickering sharply across her face as she stared ahead.
Amael and Sirius were tearing through the battlefield like two storms colliding.
Swords clashed, sparks flew, and their movents blurred so quickly she could barely follow them. The air itself trembled every ti their blades t.
Her eyes lingered on Amael—expression cold—but she could see through him.
His state worried her.
Sanctum Renova...
Even using it on a healthy person was dangerous. But she’d forced it onto a battered, exhausted Amael whose body was already pushed past its limit. The consequences were impossible to ignore—painful, risky, maybe even lethal.
She had only just gotten him back after all this ti...
And now he was right there, fighting like his life ant nothing.
Her hands curled into tight fists.
"Milleia."
The soft voice snapped her from her thoughts. She turned to see a white horse trotting through the lingering dust before stopping beside her.
"Ceatha," she breathed.
The creature shimred and transford—light bending around her until a small girl stood in its place. Ten years old at most, with snowy white hair and bright blue eyes that always felt a bit too ancient.
"What’s happening...?" Ceatha asked, gaze drifting to Amael. Even after all this ti, she barely recognized him. But she recognized the look in Milleia’s eyes—the worry, the fear, the affection.
"It’s dangerous to stay here," Ceatha said, scanning their surroundings. "We should leave."
She was right.
People corrupted by the Blood Moon Spell were gathering in the distance, staggering toward them like a slow-forming storm. So had already spotted them. Staying ant being sward.
But Milleia shook her head imdiately.
"No. I can’t leave Edward here," she said. "And... he asked to watch over her."
Her eyes drifted to Celeste, lying unconscious on the ground.
The mont she thought of how Amael had looked at Celeste, how he held her—with gentleness, tenderness, so unlike anything he had shown Milleia—her chest tightened painfully.
Why... why did that ache so much?
"What’s happening here...?"
Milleia spun around.
A woman had appeared at the edge of the clearing—black hair with streaks of grey, sharp presence, and a look of total bewildernt.
It was Claudia, though Milleia had never seen her before.
Claudia’s attention instantly snapped toward the violent storm of noise and mana—the clash of Amael and Sirius. Confusion washed across her face. This was clearly not the fight she expected.
Her gaze darted back to Milleia—but then it landed on Celeste, and her composure shattered.
"What happened to her?!" Claudia rushed forward, eyes widening.
"She’s unconscious. Who are you?" Milleia asked, a bit wary.
"Claudia Tepes," she replied curtly, checking Celeste’s pulse and letting out a relieved sigh when she confird the girl was still alive. If the new Prophetess died here, Sancta Vedelia would fall even more into chaos.
"You’re Claudia Tepes? You’re the one who called us?" Milleia asked, surprise coloring her tone.
Claudia finally looked up, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she looked at Milleia. Understanding dawned in an instant.
"You’re Raphiel’s Daughter," Claudia said. "You ca at the worst possible mont—and late. When exactly did you arrive? Where is Cyril?"
She scanned the area, and her gaze landed on the crimson-haired corpse collapsed on the ground.
Milleia followed her eyes and nodded slowly.
"If you an that man... I think he was already dead when I arrived. I think that Sirius killed him??." She hesitated, her brows furrowing. "But then they started fighitng and... I don’t truly know what happened after that."
Claudia wasn’t listening anymore.
Her eyes locked onto Amael.
He looked exactly—exactly—like he had in her prophecy. His battered body, the twisted mana, the dangerous look in his eyes. Her heart thrashed in her chest.
A cold thought crawled up her spine.
"Did he finally show his true face...?" She whispered through gritted teeth.
W–What? No, Edward was trying to protect—"
"You don’t understand." Claudia’s voice sliced through Milleia’s words. "I saw it in my Prophecy. His presence already destroyed Central Vedelia—you are seeing it with your own eyes. And now it’s only going to get worse."
She took a step forward, but sothing icy crawled down her spine, freezing her mid-stride.
"It would be a waste to intervene in such an interesting spectacle."
Claudia’s head snapped around.
A man sat casually atop a long white rectangular box, as if he’d been observing the chaos for hours. Jack Renge. Darkness and literally evil seeped from him in a way Claudia had never seen before.
"Who are you?" She asked imdiately, every muscle tensing as she glared at him.
Jack didn’t answer the question. He didn’t even acknowledge it.
"You have better things to worry about."
His tone was flat, almost bored.
Claudia realized what he ant a second later—the ground trembled.
She turned and saw them. Waves of people, countless figures stumbling toward them, their eyes hollow and glowing faintly red. All of them bound by the Blood Moon Spell. They moved in huge numbers, converging as if sothing... or soone... was calling them.
"What happened to them?" Milleia whispered, raising her hand instinctively.
"They’re under a spell. Stop them!" Claudia snapped, panic growing in her chest.
Cyril was dead. She had seen his corpse. Yet the red do still hovered above Central Vedelia, pulsing ominously. The Blood Moon Spell wasn’t dissipating—it was strengthening.
Why?
Why was all of this still happening?
Even though she had tried everything... absolutely everything... to avoid the Prophecy, everything was aligning perfectly toward its most catastrophic outco.
"Where is the Apostle of Lun?" Claudia asked suddenly.
"Jayden? We were separated," Milleia answered, her focus locked on the incoming horde as she conjured shimring blue blades. They shot out like flashes of light, piercing the corrupted people—but instead of harming them, the blades froze their movents, locking their bodies in place like statues.
Claudia clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms.
This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go.
She had summoned Jayden and the others specifically because she believed they could divert the Prophecy—powerful figures like the Apostle of Lun and the Daughter of Raphiel should’ve been capable of shifting fate, even if only slightly.
And in the back of her mind, she had also hoped... just quietly hoped... that they might deal with Amael. End him with seemingly like ’divine authority’ so that Sancta Vedelia wouldn’t have to stain its own hands.
After all, Amael was still a royal from the Olphean House.
But now?
All she could do was watch... and wait... as the Prophecy spiraled toward its darkest point.
***
-BOOOOOM!!!
Explosions of mana tore through the battlefield as Sirius and I clashed once more, our swords eting with enough force to shatter the air around us.
"Ninth Ascension," Sirius said calmly. "I never had the chance to congratulate you."
I didn’t bother replying.
Trinity Nihil roared to life in my grip, its blade blazing with Anathema Fire. I swung, flas hissing violently through the air.
Sirius parried, sparks flying, and with his free hand he summoned an amber blade out of thin air and slashed at my face.
I tilted my head—the strike grazed my cheek, warm blood trailing down—then caught his wrist before he could pull back. Using the montum, I shifted my stance, dragged him down, and drove my fist—coated in Wrath—straight at him.
But Sirius reacted instantly.
His amber sword dissolved, reforming into a round shield that t my punch.
The shield cracked loudly under Wrath’s pressure, spiderweb fractures spreading across the surface—but sohow it held.
I narrowed my eyes, leaned in and head-butted him.
-BAM!!
Sirius staggered back with a grunt, blood splitting his forehead open.
"Burning Ring of Vysindra," I whispered, and slamd my fist into his gut.
-BOOOOOOM!!!
The impact detonated outward, a ring-shaped pulse of purple fire erupting from my fist. Sirius was launched from the air like a fired projectile, crashing into the ground with enough force to carve out a crater.
I landed and kicked off instantly to follow, but his blade intercepted mine again, tal shrieking as our swords locked.
"Where did you get the Olphean Emblem?" I asked coldly.
"From Connor Olphean," Sirius answered without hesitation.
My grip tightened.
White sands erupted around , swirling before launching toward him like a storm.
But blood gathered around him—forming the sa kind of barrier Cyril used.
A red do of protection wrapped around Sirius, pulsing violently.
"You actually expect to believe that bullshit?" I snarled, swinging Trinity Nihil.
-BOOOOM!!!
The barrier cracked—just barely—but I didn’t let up. I struck again. And again. And again.
-BOOOM! BOOOM!! BOOOOM!!!
Each strike was a small explosion, shockwaves tearing the ground apart beneath us, fissures splitting open like the earth itself was afraid.
I growled and wrapped Wrath around my blade, thrusting with destructive force.
-CRACK!!
The barrier shattered.
But at the sa mont, an amber blade shot toward my head. I caught it with my left hand, stopping it a hair’s breadth from my eye. The blade sliced deep into my palm, blood dripping down the edge, but I held it.
Sirius’s crimson eyes stared right into mine, unblinking.
"The Olphean Bloodline can be inherited. Entrusted. Recreated through Royal Blood," he murmured.
"You’re going to tell you’re Olphean royalty?" I scoffed.
"You don’t understand anything," Sirius said. "Lazarus Raven experinted on my mother using Thelma Olphean’s genetic sample. The genes of Ymir are absolute. Unbreakable once assimilated."
Before I could respond, amber lances rained from the sky. I leapt back, dodging the volley while parrying the few that ca close.
"Who the fuck are you?" I asked.
Sirius lifted one hand to his hair, brushing it back casually—
And the blond lted into black.
Dark runes crawled across his cheeks, his arms, under his eyes, like corruption bursting to the surface.
-BOOOOOOM!!!!
His mana exploded outward, violent and suffocating, reaching the sa overwhelming level Cyril had reached monts before.
The blood surrounding us turned darker—almost black—and spiraled toward him.
Cyril’s sword crumbled into dust in his hand, replaced by a jagged amber blade etched with twisting black symbols.
"I’ve gone by many nas," he said. "None of them important... though Ernest might be relevant to you."
"Ernest Olphean..."
"One of many nas and borrowed bodies," Sirius said. His voice was colder now, hollow. "I must comnd you for killing Rucain. He and Cain served well enough. Losing rithra’s kin is inconvenient, but no longer aningful. I can always recover her."
The ground trembled violently.
Sirius lifted both hands.
-BOOOOM!!!
Blood pillars erupted one after another around us, painting the sky red. Above them, a massive mana circle ford—glowing, pulsing—before a colossal red beam fired upward, striking the do overhead.
"This shall be your end, Vessel of Samael Eveningstar," Sirius said.
His white sclera turned pitch-black, eyes now nothing but crimson slits burning in darkness.
"And as..."
He raised his blade.
"Lord Lucifer’s General—"
His voice echoed deeply.
"I, Sirius Anox... will bring an end to you."
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