Noel was stricken with silence, his aim trained on Virgil long after his departure. He watched as the fleshless husk of his brother-in-arms rallied a band of demons and led them into the forest.

Sickened with grief, Noel dropped his gun and buried his face in his hands. With each breath, the lid on his emotions slightly inched off. Eventually, he began clawing at his face– a fit of rage that dwelled within the joviality of his soul boiled over. After a series of shrieks that wrung his vocal cords dry and targetless punches with hopes that the empty air felt the pain he did, Noel fell to his knees once more.

He could not fathom the anguish that left no crevice of his mind untouched.

Far too many thoughts. Far too many emotions. Too much grief to simply cope with humor. In his lonesome torment–from the pieces of his shattered mindset–a new resolve was formed with a lethal stare that pierced the ground he kneeled upon.

“Virgil, you… fuck– I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I swear,” Noel muttered to himself belligerently. At first, the man’s words were cohesive, but they eventually melted into repetition of the phrase I’ll kill you, even when his throat felt constricted.

Such was his new resolve: kill Virgil and find Michael. His gaze drifted over his shoulder and confirmed that Lucius, Vera, and Miyazaki still laid motionless; he had been thoroughly convinced they died and this shoved him further down his newfound path.

And so Noel brandished his weapons.

“Virgil,” he uttered with a voice that had been bled of all emotion, “you’re a demon now.”

He then rose to his feet and wiped his tears for the final time.

“As a demon hunter, I’ll find you.”

With a searing hate, his grip tightened on his blade and gold-coated firearm.

“And when I catch you, I’m gonna kill you so fast I won’t even be able to fuckin’ think.”

Following the same blood trail Virgil and his demons did, Noel entered the forest engulfing the Plagued City– disappearing exactly when Vera and Miyazaki arose.

They were exactly one moment too late to stop the revenge-filled demon hunter and they were oblivious.

“Holy sh– Lucy!”

Vera’s initial reaction upon waking up was to rush to Lucius’s unconscious body, brandish rudimentary medical equipment from her coat, and start tending to his wounds; applying tourniquets and sewing in stitches.

She winced, for every time she touched him, her hands burned– she’d treat his wounds nonetheless.

Miyazaki, on the other hand, began to pray for Lucius’s well-being.

“What are you doing, dude?” Vera asked with a huff as she tied the last tourniquet.

Without missing a beat or lacking any bass, Miyazaki replied:

“I am asking our Father to rejuvenate your… friend.”

“What? Father? We’re not related. You do see our complexions, right?”

A sigh escaped Miyazaki’s lips– it was, at times, tiring for him to routinely preach the word of his savior.

“You are mistaken. I am referring to our Creator. Through Him, we are all connected.”

A tsk came from Vera as she turned around.

“Hell of a father.”

“You seem to be misguided. I say to you, it is not too late to repent for your sins and be cleansed by the blood of the lamb.”

“Ha, no. What good is cleansing when I’m already stained?”

A pause.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“It is unfortunate you perceive yourself as stained. Regardless of your past grievances, I assure you: nobody is exempt from being saved. There is beauty in suffering and the love he has for us all.”

“You know, suffering while being told you’re loved sounds like an abusive relationship.”

Miyazaki’s eyebrows furrowed. The marred zealot’s patience was running thin and it bled into his tone.

“He is not capable of such a thing; He is all-loving. Should you accept his love, your passing will be a peaceful one.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then He will cast you into fire, and you will burn for eternity.”

Vera blinked in disbelief.

“So, if I don’t acknowledge this love of his, I’ll burn for eternity? Why would you believe in something that cruel?”

A deep breath from the blacksmith.

“I wanted to reject Him, too. None of it made sense to me. In fact, I did, and when I did, I could not shake the feeling of the Father judging me with His anger. So, when Cain disfigured me, I knew this was His will; he delivered a demon to punish my disobedience. As I wrapped myself in these bandages you see now, I professed that He is my savior and He loves me. I never questioned Him again.”

“But do you feel loved?”

Miyazaki hesitated before answering, “Yes.”

The slight pause is all Vera needed to tie the bow on that conversation.

She turned her back to the bandaged man to check on Lucius, who had suddenly recovered fully; she caught a glimpse of an ember that seared his flesh together.

“What?” she questioned reflexively.

“What is it?” Miyazaki asked.

“It’s like he’s burning on the inside and it’s healing him.”

“That is most curious. Might it be the same fire the Heavenly demon hunter used?”

“... It is. Do you think he’s–”

“Father willing, it is possible he has inherited his otherworldly abilities.”

“I’ve gotta see that,” her increasing pitch reflecting thorough amusement. “Also, if that’s true, then Michael’s alive, too! That guy can never stay down.”

“Agreed,” he added, excitement unheard of. “Furthermore, upon waking up, I surmised that Lucy defeated the demon that attacked us. Where the others decided to roam is unknown, but my guess is the blood trail that leads directly into a forest.”

“Yep, not suspicious in the slightest.”

“I’m no stranger to sarcasm, miss.”

“Congra– hey, Lucy!”

“Hello, Lucy.”

No reply from Lucius yet, for the awakened man basked in his rejuvenation. His power had transcended that beyond what was possible of flesh and blood. Such was exemplified with his weapon; the colossal blade which required two hands to wield now only required one. He was very evidently in awe of this.

Eventually, he gave a response after a few awkward moments:

“It’s Lucius.”

“Dooon’t care, Lucy’s cute.”

“And more convenient to say,” Miyazaki added.

Lucius’s gaze shifted to the bandaged blacksmith.

“Who are you?”

“I am Miyazaki, a disciple of our Father,” he proclaimed while bowing.

Lucius threw a glance to Vera–a glance she caught–before replying:

“... I didn’t know we were relat–”

“Enough,” Miyazaki warned.

“I said the same thing,” Vera added.

“He is our Father the Lord, and you shall not mock him, lest you value your life.”

Vera threw her hands up.

“Okay, sorry?! Damn.”

“We have to follow that blood trail,” Lucius announced.

Vera sighed begrudgingly. “Do we have to?”

“We have to,” he affirmed. “Noel went after Virgil.”

“Noel’s the blondie?” she asked whilst pointing to her head.

“Yes,” he replied with his signature bluntness.

“Then, Lucy–”

“Lucius.”

“Still don’t care. Where do you think Michael went?”

“Probably trying to finish the job.”

“Then,” Miyazaki interjected, “it would appear we are following a man following a man following a man.”

“Let’s see who we find first. I, for one, hope we find Michael. I’ve got some questions, especially about your hotness, Lucy.”

“You’re hot, too,” he shot back, a reply that turned her into a stuttering mess.

“No, I meant– dude. I meant your body heat. You know, with your insides being on fire?”

“Oh, right. When I fought Deimos, I unlocked fir–”

“We know,” both Miyazaki and Vera interrupted.