“My goodness!” Armaros exclaimed, his laughter tapering off into a series of breathless, erratic gasps. “You sure are funny, Saa'ir!”

Saa'ir stood frozen, arms raised defensively, as he looked on at the huge spherical veil that surrounded Armaros. “What is this? This pressure is unreal! His bloodlust and madness is suffocating…and yet, I can feel it is only the surface…! Is this…his soul manifested!?”

Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, Armaros tried his best to calm himself down. In response, the sphere that represented his soul diminished into thin air. The pressure it emitted along with it.

“Ahem,” Armaros cleared his throat as he locked eyes with Saa'ir, "are the lives of others’ just a game to me?" he repeated, his voice dripping with mockery. "You have no idea…”

Saa'ir lowered his guard. “W-What do you mean?”

Armaros’ paused, his smile disappearing for a scowl, his eyes narrowing. "The lives of these mortals do not concern me—not one bit. Above all, the lives of humans. Compared to all the other races, humans are a cesspool of evil. Murderers, dictators, thieves, traitors—these are the true faces of humanity. You ask me to care about lives that are so deeply rooted in cruelty and corruption, I ask back: Why should I?”

Armaros leaned his body on a nearby wall, crossing his arms while doing so. “As one of eight who holds the birthright of being a Sin Incarnation, it's undeniable proof that I am nothing but a god. At the end of the day, the lives of these mortals are nothing more than playthings, pieces on a board to be moved and discarded at will for my own amusement, like a good ol’ game of chess…” he sighed, looking up at the full moon. “Alas, I have yet to find another who's willing to play this game of chess with me…”

Lowering his head, Armaros turned his gaze back to Saa’ir, the lust symbol beginning to glow in his right eye. “That is why I want to seek out the others, as they're the only ones who could ever understand me. You could say it’s a dream of mine to finally sit down with the other seven and just have dinner together—a feast fitting for a pantheon of gods among men. It’d certainly be a new and amusing experience, even to such an old mummy like myself.”

Armaros sighed as he looked down at the ground, his mind going through the endless possibilities of such a rare occasion. It was one of only three things that he longed for nowadays.

Saa’ir stared blankly as he tried to process everything, his mouth slightly agape. Shaking his head after a little while, he opened his mouth to speak.

Before he could make a peep however, he found himself face to face with Armaros, who closed the distance in the blink of an eye.

When Saa’ir stepped back once more, Armaros put his index finger on his own grinning lips. “I know what you’re about to say, my old friend, as I already know even you could never understand me. Why would you? Judging by your current, and for lack of a better term, rather 'soulless' demeanor, you don’t remember, but you always held such a positive outlook on life. Always seeing the good in the bad—it was that same reason you gave when you saved me, after all.”

Saa'ir's eyes widened in shock. “I…saved you?”

“When I was but a child, deemed a devil and put upon the stake, set ablaze. Life right after the Holy Catalyst War wasn’t such a nice place, especially for those not human.” Armaros shrugged. “But you, along with Adam, Giona, and their comrades, came to my home village and put a stop to the execution. All of you were ambassadors of order in the hell the Holy Catalyst War created.”

Saa’ir gasped hearing those two fabled names, a picture of a blonde haired-man standing beside a woman in purple flashing in his head. “Adam and Eve…!?”

Armaros nodded. “You traveled with them around Eranovum, spreading the message of peace, and saving those deemed to be the spawn of the Devil and Celestial races, who started the war in the first place. It might come to a surprise to you, but even I joined in. It was the least I could do.” he chuckled, giving way for a nostalgic grin to appear. “The more we walked across Eranovum, the more our missionary grew in size and race variety. Along the way, we met many who despised us, but we had each other, and that was enough.”

Armaros paused and looked to the ground again, leading to his face being obscured by the bangs of his hair. When Armaros looked back up, Saa’ir noticed that he had adopted a slight scowl. “Eventually, the group split into many smaller factions, each one led by one of Adam’s comrades. I, of course, followed you.” Armaros’ scowl deepened. “That was until you were betrayed by someone close to you. You were taken prisoner that day and publicly crucified for your supposed ‘betrayal’ to mankind.”

Saa’ir lowered his head, unsure of what to say as a spell of silence fell onto the conversation. It was several minutes later when Saa’ir broke the silence. “For how long?” he asked, feeling a bit weird about having pity for himself.

Armaros stretched out three fingers. “Three days and three nights, until you died of blood loss. Yet, every second you spent awake, you preached of peace, and died with a smile.”

Bringing his hand over his own heart, Armaros continued. “Despite my anger, I tried my best to follow your ideology, and traveled Eranovum to spread the message—a message that fell on ungrateful, deaf ears.”

Armaros gripped his chest as he clenched his teeth. “It didn't just stop at you either. Simon, Luke, Thomas, even Sarah… Murdered, only for having a different opinion. I saw injustice after injustice done to either the other races, and even their own kind. I've seen entire civilizations rise and fall, yet time and again were the good souls taken early, all for the gain of those selfish enough to so callously take and destroy.”

Making his way to Saa'ir, Armaros continued. “It was during the Great Dragon War, after centuries of witnessing humanity's constant evil and mistakes, where I realized: If they don't value the lives around them, why should I? That's what I've learnt throughout these eight long centuries.”

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Finally, Armaros pretended to rest his right arm around Saa'ir's shoulders. “That's why I'm absolutely ecstatic to see you, Saa’ir. Not only are you my hero, you're also a living sign that a great disaster is coming, foreshadowed by the omen of every Sin Incarnation being alive at once. A disaster that will most likely wipe out humanity, leaving behind a barren landscape, ready to be molded into the utopia we so preached for once…”

Still pondering on what to say, Saa'ir looked at Armaros without turning his head, who maliciously grinned again. “Last time, the great disaster was the Great Dragon War that was stopped by Giona Dracna, descendant of Giona Evelyn Tamaki. I wonder what the great disaster will be this time…” Armaros said, his tone childishly, yet sadistically curious, as he smiled from ear-to-ear, looking into Saa’ir’s left eye with his right. “Don’t you?”

Staring into Armaros’ branded eye, it was clear as day to Saa'ir now, Armaros’ words came from a place of sincerity. Despite his descent to madness, a tone of loss and longing laid buried underneath it all.

Just then, another fragment of his past flashed in his head. This time, it was of him patting the short, ruffled hair of a laughing young boy. The boy had dark skin and wore tattered clothing.

Moving his hand from the boy's head to his shoulder, the boy looked up with an ear-to-ear smile, revealing a fanged smile he knew all too well at this point. Only with one difference—the smile held nothing but hope behind it.

It was that same smile that became a key, unlocking a multitude of memories for Saa'ir. They only consisted of him and the boy, whose name was a gift from Saa'ir himself: “Axel…”

Coming back to the present, Saa'ir closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath. “I understand, Axel…” he said, walking down the street with a new determined look in his eye.

Armaros stood in shock. “You…remember my name?”

“I remember some memories, mainly of our days as a missionary.” Saa'ir responded before putting a hand on his turban, a small grin etching itself onto his face. “To think that small boy who never left my side would grow up this much.”

Turning around to face Armaros, Saa'ir then placed a fist to his chest. “I will not lie, at first, I thought you were just some madman. Now, I realize. You've seen, maybe even experienced, atrocities most would crack under, all while fighting through the pain of losing people dear to you throughout the centuries. It is no wonder that one day, you gave up, because I wasn't there for you anymore. For that, I apologize.”

Armaros sighed, completely relaxing for a moment. “The fact you feel the need to apologize only strengthens my beliefs. Good men should never have to apologize for something they couldn't control.”

“Be that as it may, while I don't condone your belief, I understand why, so I won't try to sway you. Just know this,” Saa'ir declared, his soulura starting to form around him, causing his clothing and chains to levitate, “whatever this great disaster is, I will try my best to stop it—that is my purpose in this world. And I am certain there are others who share in this goal.”

Pondering on Saa'ir's words, Armaros proceeded to clap slowly. “If that is what you wish, I will not stop you. It's been rather fun talking with you again, but it looks like our chat is about to come to an end…”

Saa'ir raised an eyebrow to Armaros’ almost cryptic prediction, only to realize Armaros’ gaze wasn't on him, but on something else in the sky.

Turning around, he spotted a figure descending from the sky. The figure had large, bat-like wings protruding from their back, and wore a red hooded cloak that obscured all of their features.

The red-cloaked figure landed gracefully between Saa'ir and Armaros, their wings folding neatly behind them. They dropped to one knee, bowing their head in deference to the vampire king.

"Master Vladen…" the figure intoned, their deep voice echoing with a strange resonance.

Armaros stepped forward, placing a hand on the figure's bowed head. "Rise, Berkanio. Has something happened?"

The cloaked figure stood, their face still hidden. "I've come to fetch you, sire. Master Akeldama is furious with you, I'm afraid.”

“A-Akela?” Armaros repeated, dumbfounded and a little shocked. “Why is she furious?”

Berkanio paused for a slight moment as he tilted his head. “Sire… It’s past midnight, meaning today is your and the madam's anniversary. Don't tell me you forgot?”

Armaros’ face fell, sweat starting to pour down his now even paler face. A comedic silence settled over the scene for a while, before being broken by a laughing Armaros, trying his best to mask his anxiety. “My oh my! Has it really been that long!?

Jumping high into the air, huge bat-like wings soon burst out of Armaros’ back. “Come, Berkanio, let's go. Can't leave my darling waiting too long!”

“Yes, Master Vladen.” Spreading his wings, Berkanio took a second to look at Saa'ir. After a short moment of studying him, Berkanio followed Armaros into the air. “I assure it'd feel nice to hear that I have already come up with an excuse for you. Though, I recommend you do not come back home empty handed if you know what's best for you, sire.”

“Point taken…” Armaros murmured sheepishly as he stroked his chin, before piping up with an idea. “Why don’t I give her the blood of an entire town?”

“With all due respect, last time you did that, they made a fairytale about it, sire. I don't think helping spread awareness of us vampires is a good idea.”

“Fair enough,” Armaros said as he smiled, though his quivering lips betrayed his nervousness, “we'll just have to think about it on the way.”

Snapping his fingers, Armaros’ fedora would materialize out of thin air. Armaros then waved and bowed to Saa'ir. “Again, old friend, it's been lovely chatting with you, but I have something urgent to attend to. Hopefully, we'll meet again—and if you're planning on finding the Sin Incarnations, then I can almost guarantee we will. Until then, toodles!”

“Wait!” Saa'ir shouted, stopping both Armaros and Berkanio from flying away. “Axel, if you really want to find the other seven, I ca—!”

“That won't be needed,” Armaros said, cutting off Saa’ir, “you don't need to reveal their locations to me. The search is but half the fun after all, and I have centuries worth of time.”

“Well, one of them doesn't.” Saa’ir replied, pointing eastward. “I'd advise you go to Enohay Valley to start, before it is too late for them.”

“Enohay Valley, you say?” Armaros repeated while looking at Berkanio, who shook his head, signifying his lack of familiarity. “I see, thank you, Saa’ir. Best of luck.” he said as he put his fedora back on, flying off into the distance.

Now alone once more, Saa’ir pondered some more. “As much as I want to say I know what to do now, that couldn't be further from the truth. All I know that is set in stone is that I must stop whatever disaster is coming, and to do that, I must find the cause. The Calamity Sin Incarnations seem to be a good place to start…”

Saa’ir took in another deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the journey ahead. “I guess it is time I do something I did a lot before, scour Eranovum…” he declared out in the open, walking as his visage faded into nothingness.

-

Next: (Chapter 44) The Chief's Daughter