Arayn smirked. "War it is. You heard them, Darius." He didn't reach for a transmission tool, nor did he raise his voice. Yet he spoke as though certain his message would be received.

"Understand, young master." The reply echoed from nowhere and everywhere all at once. The voice carried an eerie resonance, weaving through the air like a cold wind. It struck fear into the hearts of those who heard it, silencing murmurs among the soldiers.

The two Stormguard Captains wasted no time. Shouting, they unleashed a radiant wave of power that washed over the battlefield, purging the oppressive fear. "[Sanctified Renewal]!" their voices rang out, and a divine aura enveloped the army, dispelling negative effects and restoring their morale.

One of the captains stepped forward. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

Arayn’s laughter cut through the tension. "You want to challenge us to war, but you haven't even taken the time to investigate your enemy? Are the Heralds of the Skyfather truly this stupid?"

The insult was too much. The enraged captain vanished in an instant, reappearing behind Arayn in a burst of holy energy. "You’re not even an expert class," the captain growled. "And yet you dare to run your mouth wild? Die!"

The captain’s hand surged with imbued aura as he swung it down at Arayn.

Before the blow could land, the captain’s body began to swell grotesquely, his flesh stretching as though something within him was expanding uncontrollably. His eyes widened in horror for a brief moment before his entire body burst apart, leaving nothing but a puddle of blood and viscera where he had stood.

Arayn didn’t flinch. Calmly, he unfurled a scroll, its edges glowing faintly with crimson light. As he opened the Soul Gathering Scroll, a spectral wisp rose from the bloody remains. With a flick of his hand, the scroll sucked the soul into its depth.

"I guess even an elite-class practitioner counts as one soul. You are so stingy, Darius," Arayn said, his gaze sweeping over the stunned soldiers.

Darius’s voice resonated ominously through the battlefield. “No one would expect a participant to collect expert-class souls, let alone elite-class ones. But don’t worry, young master. Aren’t there a lot of souls here to gather? I just counted... 1,500 expert classes and one elite class. Hmm.” His tone shifted into a mocking drawl. “If I report that you were brave enough to confront them, perhaps the cult will reward you personally. Now, I’m going to eliminate them after all. They’re merely one percent of the Heralds’ strength.”

As his words faded, the sound of buzzing filled the air. Behind Arayn, a swarm of mosquitoes began to gather, swirling in a chaotic vortex. The buzzing grew louder, drowning out the soldiers’ murmurs of fear. The vortex condensed, twisting and writhing, until it formed into a humanoid figure. From the writhing mass emerged Darius Vex, his crimson robes and sinister presence casting an oppressive aura over the battlefield.

The soldiers recoiled at the sight, terror etched onto their faces. The second captain pointed a trembling finger at him, his voice hoarse as he shouted, “Darius Vex! The Lord of Pestilence! What is the second strongest member of the Crimson Sun Cult doing here?”

Darius tilted his head and grinned, his eyes glinting with malice. “We’re choosing a successor for the cult in this town. It wouldn’t be proper if someone like me didn’t oversee such an important ritual. After all, the future of our cult depends on this.”

The captain’s fear was quickly replaced with rage. He stepped forward, his holy aura flaring. “You’re violating the holder laws of Azrathar Continent! You’re a master-class holder attacking someone below your realm! Every organization across Azrathar will unite to annihilate your cult for this treachery!”

Darius and Arayn laughed in unison. When their laughter subsided, Darius turned his cold gaze to the captain. “Young man, you’re talking about laws to a crime organization. Also, it seems you’re under a few misconceptions.”

He raised a finger, as if educating a child. “First, I didn’t attack anyone unprovoked. Your friend struck first, breaking the very law you claim to uphold. As the judge of this ritual, it is my duty to ensure participants die only at the hands of those within their realm. I simply corrected his hypocrisy.”

He raised a second finger, his grin widening to a predatory smile. “Second, I’m not here for negotiations or diplomacy. I’m here to collect. I’ll let one soul from your side live as a courtesy. So... pray to your god, Auron. Pray hard. Because your meaningless pleas will be His music as I slaughter each of you, one by one. Oh, my merciful Auron. I shall present their screams to you! I am such a faithful follower of the Skyfather, hahahaha!"

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The captain extended his hand, summoning a brilliant magic circle glowing with divine radiance. A massive holy wall surged upward, forming a towering barrier between his soldiers and the impending doom. Turning to his men, he shouted with urgency, “Priests! Conjure a mass teleportation circle! Save yourselves and your comrades! Go! Go now!”

The soldiers scrambled to obey, their hands trembling as they began weaving the teleportation spell. But before they could complete it, the holy wall trembled, cracks spidering across its surface. In an instant, it shattered like fragile glass, raining shards of divine light that dissipated into nothingness.

Beyond the remnants of the wall stood Darius, his staff raised high. Around its tip swirled a vortex of black energy. The vortex didn’t pull or consume; instead, it seemed to nullify the very essence of magic, snuffing out every attempt at casting abilities.

Then came the swarm. From beneath Darius’s crimson robe poured forth a tide of mosquitoes. They surged across the battlefield, engulfing the Stormguard soldiers in a writhing cloud. For a moment, the screams of the soldiers were muffled as the swarm consumed them. Then, as quickly as they had emerged, the mosquitoes retreated, vanishing back under Darius’s robe.

What followed was pure horror. The soldiers writhed in agony as their bodies began to expand grotesquely. Skin stretched, veins bulged, and within moments, they exploded into a rain of blood and gore. The once-organized ranks of the Stormguard were reduced to lifeless carnage.

Amid the chaos, Arayn unfurled his Soul Gathering Scroll, holding them aloft as the souls of the fallen flew to him. The scroll absorbed soul after soul, but when the count reached five hundred, Darius intervened.

With a casual wave of his Ritual Lantern, Darius collected the remaining souls. The swirling energy of the souls flowed into the lantern, the light within its chamber glowing ominously. Darius turned to Arayn, a playful smirk on his lips. “I can’t let you have all the fun, young master. Sharing is only fair, don’t you think?”

Darius’s gaze flicked to Aveline, who stood frozen in place, her face pale and her breaths shallow. He then turned back to Arayn. “That girl,” he said, his tone suddenly nonchalant, “is a helper of Saria Kaelthara. So, I’ll spare her. Not a strand of her hair has been harmed. What you do with her, however, is entirely up to you.”

Arayn’s eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, he noticed Darius preparing to leave. “Wait,” Arayn called out. “Unlock my sword’s hidden ability.”

Darius paused, his expression amused. “Oh, you’ll need to come to the manor for that,” he said lightly. “I am not allowed to do everything here. Also, young master, this is likely the last time I can assist you as your backer. Anything more, and even I would risk raising suspicion. Offending Lord Sovereign is not on my agenda.”

With those words, Darius turned into a vortex of mosquitoes before dispersing, leaving Arayn alone with the stunned and trembling Aveline.

Arayn strode toward Aveline, who knelt amid the carnage, her body trembling with despair. He loomed over her. “You’re a warrior, aren’t you? Don’t tell me this is the first time you’ve seen dead bodies.”

Aveline’s head snapped up, her eyes blazing with anger. “This isn’t war,” she spat. “This is slaughter.”

He tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “There’s no difference. The result is the same—mountains of corpses.”

Her fists clenched, her voice rising with defiance. “In war, we fight for a purpose!”

Arayn’s smirk widened. “And we did. We defended ourselves from you. We fought to protect.”

Her words faltered, her anger dampened by the undeniable truth in his statement. But her resolve quickly reignited, and she snarled, “You slaughtered innocent people!”

Arayn chuckled. “Not me,” he said, shaking his head. “That was your partner, Saria. And the fact that you failed to notice? That’s partly your fault, too. You supported her.”

“No!” Aveline screamed, clutching at her blonde hair. Her voice cracked with anguish. “I didn’t agree to this!”

He crouched slightly, meeting her gaze, his expression dripping with mockery. “So why did you decide to support her in the first place?”

Her lips quivered, and her voice was barely audible as she replied, “We promised to change the world. She said she wanted the cult to be accepted… by everyone.”

Arayn barked out a harsh laugh. “And you believed her? She deceived you, and you fell for it. How could you be so naive, so… blind? You’re a fool. A clown.”

Her face crumpled, her sorrow deepening with his every word. Tears welled in her emerald eyes as she murmured, “All of you… everyone from the cult… you’re all the same.”

Arayn straightened, his tone turning colder. “Your despair is your burden to bear, but if you think you’re so different, why don’t you prove it?” He gestured to the burning town in the distance. “As Saria’s former ally, isn’t it your duty to stop her? To put an end to her deeds? It’s the least you can do to atone for your sin of ignorance.”

Aveline’s despair melted away as a spark of clarity ignited within her. She lifted her head, her emerald eyes now brimming with determination. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward the distant town, the fires of resolve burning brightly within her.

But just as she stepped forward, Arayn unsheathed the sword at his waist, its point aimed directly at her chest.

Startled, Aveline halted and stared at him. “You told me to face her,” she said.

Arayn’s lips curled into a faint smile. “That’s right,” he replied. “But you intrigue me.” He gestured toward her with the blade, his eyes narrowing. “A noble lady with a purpose to stop evil, and then there’s me—the one who stands in the way. Doesn’t that sound entertaining?”

Aveline’s jaw tightened as his words sank in.

“So,” Arayn continued, his tone turning cold, “prepare yourself. If you want to go, you’ll have to defeat me first.”