They scurried off into the forest in the middle of a downpour and thunder, trudging through the mud and the eerie cold air, holding an oil lantern that barely illuminated their path.

"How much farther?"

"I-I recognize this part. We're close. I and many other kids used to play here, but we eventually stopped and the cults moved in, I guess. Hopefully grandfather and the others are alright," said Chris who followed Laruse closely, stumbling on the tree roots more often than he would like, not being able to see clearly in the night.

It was then that a flash of lighting illuminated their objective, an abandoned church perched on top of a slope, battered and worn down, void of any form of life from the looks of it.

"That's the place!"

"Then there's no time to lose. Let's pick up the pace."

They all hurried off, running themselves ragged until they reached the front door of the church with the exception of a door, only greeted by a dark open entrance with everything destroyed by the passage of time, or by something else.

The moment they stepped in did the sounds of their footsteps echo.

While the wind howled more from the outside, Laruse went further in, pointing the lantern he was holding forward in order to see something that the dark hid from his sights.

It was then that he saw a figure of a woman laid down on the ground, wearing a white, dirtied tunic, having long, brown hair.

He quickly ran up to her, lifting her up in his arms as the rest followed with urgency, taking a good look at whoever that person was.

"Wait! I recognize her! Maria, what happened to you?" he intervened, eyes widening in shock.

She didn't respond, yet her skin gave off heat, and her heart was still beating.

With his line of sight trailing off, trying to find something that could lead them to the root of the problem, Laruse saw a trail of blood leading towards a door on his left as another flash of lighting came rumbling down.

"Chris, take care of her. Charles and Chris, you stay with her. Let's keep going. If this is what I think it is, we don't have much time. They may be sacrificing people already, but that's just a premonition."

Laruse, Cecil, and Ophelia went through the door, walking through a narrow passageway leading into the abyss.

But after reaching the end, there was an open door leading down, clearly not part of the church’s design, but for something else entirely.

He looked to them, assuring that they would go with him, which they did, descending the dark entrance with their wits about them.

As they reached another floor below them, they were met with a large hall, one that seemed to continue down further, leading into something much grander than what they think of.

They continued on, not seeing anything beyond a few feet of them, making use of their ears rather than their eyes as the lantern's light weakened.

The floor below was more stricken with the passing of time, its floor tiles were brittle, the wall pillars looked to be fearfully weak, enough to give them a premonition that the underground hall would fall under them if something terrible were to happen.

They could also hear the squealing of rats infesting the hall, living in a cold, damp place where they could not be disturbed.

It was then that their attentions were taken aback by a loud, high-pitch scream that sounded like it came from a woman desperately resisting from something.

There followed many other voices, those of which expressed anger, sadness, and fear, filling the hall that Laruse and the others walked through with a deafening echo of voices coming from multitudes.

Quickening their pace, they came to the end of the hall, stopping abruptly as a terrifyingly stern and commanding voice loudly roared, silencing the multitudes. They took caution, planning what would happen next while Laruse peered from his cover and into an astonishingly spacious chamber surrounded by lit torches and orbs of light placed in between some of the torches.

The chamber was filled with people all bound and grouped on the farther side, and scattered about the chamber were people wearing dark cloaks that his their already unseeable faces, some doing preparations from the looks of it.

Then there were those whom were gathered around a small altar in the center of the chamber, glowing with a strange dark red light that pulsated like a heartbeat.

Four were arranged into a cross, raising their glowing hands in praise as they chanted something repeatedly, producing strange symbols and patterns to appear out of thin air.

"There's a lot of them. Maybe fifty or more, give or take. And it looks like the ritual is still taking place," said Laruse, cautiously looking back and forth at Cecil and Ophelia, then at the scene beyond where they were.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's bring them down already while we still have a chance. We can do this, just like what we've done last time," Cecil voiced her option, eager to begin as she could not bear the thought of something horrible happening, even if they knew near less to nothing about what was really taking place and why it was taking place.

"Calm down. I know we usually without hesitation, but we have innocents in this. First I want you to check if everyone in the room, besides the villagers, are capable of using spells."

Cecil did as she was told without question while Laruse placed his attention to Ophelia, who looked nervous and out of place, not knowing what she could do for him, yet she too could not bear the thought of anything happening to the innocent villagers.

"This is where I'll depend on you, Ophelia. I know you can do it. I need you for this, otherwise I'll just be recklessly running into something I or we might never come back alive from. I know this is a tall order, nd I'm pushing you to do something you're convinced not to, but if you never resolve this, then you'll never be able to truly realize what you've been missing all along. But the choice is yours. It's all up to you whether you want something to change, or if you’ll allow it to remain the same."

Laruse turned around again, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Every one of the cultists can use it from what I've observed. I don't know how effectively they can use it, but they're capable enough to be a threat, more so since there's a lot of them. What do we do?" Cecil reported back to him.

But before he could say anything, the voice that silenced every one of the villagers began speaking once more, forcing Laruse to begrudgingly hold himself back again, not wanting to miss anything that might be important.

"You all now have true purposes. There is no need to resist. Soon you shall come to understand that unity comes from one who has power. Nations will crumble under my might. But for that to happen, there will need to be sacrifices. So, rejoice, for you all are the catalysts that will give birth to a new era, one ruled with an absolute form of peace, one devoid of strife. Would you not like that for everyone else? Would you not want for them to know the terrors of death? Then I implore you to cooperate and allow yourselves to be sacrificed for the greater good!"

"Ridiculous! Do you really think we'll fall for that? How can you do that? There's nothing in the world that can fulfill that. If there was a possibility of that, it should have happened ages ago. But now look at what's around us."

One of the villagers spoke up with a serious tone, but one that seemed to acknowledge what the mysterious man had said.

"Then listen. That artifact that your dear village chieftain has been holding as his treasure is an orb containing a vast amount of power, one that can equal or rival even a Dark Lord's, an archfiend's blood soul, his manifestation, his will and being. It's the deceased soul of a demon. Once the preparations have finished, I shall show the world a true form of peace, one that will last for time immemorial."

Some of the villagers glanced at an old, bearded man with mixed feelings.

"A Dark Lord's soul, so close to our village?! And what's worse, without our knowledge! What's the meaning of this, Chief?!" they yelled at him, demanding an answer or a response even which he never gave, nor did he speak; instead looking at the imposing looking man narrow eyes; only to him did he speak.

"And how will you attain this power?" the old chieftain said with a calm and composed voice.

"Simple. By consuming it once it has been weakened with sufficient sacrifices. With the ritual nearly complete, it is only a matter of time."

"Listen closely, all of you. That artifact there is indeed a soul of a demon. Yet there was nothing to be alarmed about since it was sealed. I had sealed it, and never would it have been a threat. If you do manage to succeed, then I will simply seal you next."

"Interesting. Don't think I'm that feeble and weak. I will have you bare witness to my transformation. There is nothing anyone can do to stop me... And at your current state, I don't think you have what it takes."

The old man cursed him from under his breath, fiercely looking at the man who now began approaching the altar.

"But nothing good comes from people who seek unity through power, nor do they succeed at the cost of lives. The way you want things to turn out, it'll never be right, and it'll crumble under its own weight."

Another argued.

"Then you have placed your faith in someone who does not deserve it. Come, let us finish the preparations. It will only take a few more sacrifices. We've already exhausted as much as we wished for."

They again began dragging away the woman, who resumed yelling and resisting, asking for help to her fellow villagers, who could not do anything but look at her powerlessly while some tried using their voices in an attempt to provoke and stop the cultists.

"Relese her you bastard! If you want a sacrifice, then take me instead! I won't allow these innocents to die because of your weakness and need of power!"

"I have no need of a shriveled old man. Your soul won't be worth anything. You don't even have the power to stop anyone anymore."

He tried to rush through but was immediately stopped by the cultists to pushed him to the floor, electrocuting him with a light spell, forcing the old man to yell in pain.

The room then began to glow a bright dark red color, and a feeling of immense pressure began to disappear, not that they noticed that there was something holding them down in the first place.

"Lord Gabriel, it is finished. The blood soul has now been weakened."

"Good. Now allow me to show you all."

The man named Gabriel then took quick steps, approaching the altar.

Then Laruse's attention turned back to his companions, having made his mind up after hearing the conversation between the conflicting sides.

"Alright, let's start. Cecil, just provide me with a bit of magic. It's too dangerous for you to use your stronger spells since it'll probably collapse the chamber on us, so use the bare minimum, and only aim for the black cloaked ones. I'll take most of them down and make my way to the altar. That should be the main objective."

"Got it. Then I'll leave most of it to you. I've been ready anyway."

"Good. Now Ophelia, think about what I said."

He unsheathed his longsword, making a soft slithering sound.

Taking a deep breath in, he bolted from a sprinting position, rushing one of the cultists at a great speed, making as few steps as possible, cutting the man down without hesitation, alerting everyone in the chamber of his presence as the cultists released a pained yell, oozing blood and immediately dying at the deep cut that was made across his body.

He then proceeded to weave from one cultist to another, using only one slash to finish the vulnerable ones off, preventing them from fighting back.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Yet they fought back, using a wide variety of magic, each one possessing a strong lethality.

Laruse would evade their attacks, at times dodging towards a cultist if he was able, then striking him down.

Soon Cecil joined in, surprising the cultists as she barraged them with a flurry of arrows made of flames, decimating many of those that were condensed into groups.

Gabriel noticed, reacting with a carefree expression as his followers screamed for him to help them.

"Now who are you?" he asked, glancing at them as he held the small glowing orb in his hand.

"Someone from the organization. I'm here to respond to a request. But since I'm here now, and you're harming my clients, might as well finish things off, right?" said Laruse, halting in the middle of a pile of corpses.

"Hmph. Then you are too late. With this, I can finally make a long-lasting difference. Not even someone like you can hope to defeat me," Gabriel then slowly brought the orb closer to his mouth, forcing someone from the crowd to yell out.

"You have to stop him! Don't let that man consume the blood soul, or else we'll all be killed. If it fails or succeeds, there will be a Dark Lord that will be revived and born!" an old man said, kneeling in place with his hands tied behind him.

Not needing to respond, Laruse placed all his strength into his legs, dashing towards the man in order to stop him.

But before the orb could part from his hand, his hand threat held the orb appeared to part from his arm instead, falling to the ground with a thud, along with a stream of blood.

His reaction was delayed, as if he never knew what happened, only screaming with pain and agony as he fell to his knees, clutching his sliced off arm, furiously bathing it in a comfortable green light.

His allies as well were not spared, each one either mysteriously stabbed or decapitated, creating a puddle on the floor with their blood; the cult reduced to one member, that being Gabriel.

Laruse stopped and looked around, confused as he tried to find the perpetrator, meeting Cecil's and Ophelia's confused gaze, deducing that they knew nothing of the sort.

Suddenly, a seductive, soft voice covered the entirety of the chamber, filling some with an unexplainable dread; yet the source could not be found.

"My, my. And to think I almost failed. I'm afraid that I can't let you have that. Your intentions are rather rousing, but you simply aren't worthy of it."

A man descended from the shadows of the chamber; he had soft features, possessing short silver, wavy hair, scarlet eyes, and a lean muscular build underneath clothes; wearing an elegant dark purple collared shirt with gold trimming and a large blue cape with gold designs on each shoulder.

He had a confident, charming smile, one that Laruse immediately noticed, baffled by his arrival as well, unable to even believe that he was here in the first place.

"Now, I will be taking what I came here for. I've already wasted enough time on someone I found amusing, but this comes first" he said, slowly walking towards the orb, ignoring the pained man's wails.

"D-DAMN YOU!" he yelled out, placing his left arm out straight, creating a powerful bolt of lightning that struck the walls near the entrance of the chamber where Cecil and Ophelia were, causing a small tremor.

"How troublesome. And Here I was, thinking that I had been charitable by leaving you with your other hand, and your life," said the man casually, having evaded the bolt by simply tilting his head; his smile not waning at all.

The man turned his head, also surprised by a familiar face in his presence, yet less startled in his case, sending him a normal greeting, as if they were well acquainted with each other.

"Oh, and what do we have here? Laruse, was it? What a coincidence finding you here of all places."

"You're that Disciple I fought in the cave's chambers near Rade! Alastor?!"

"Ah, I'm glad that you remember. I for sure have not forgotten you in the slightest. But I'm afraid that I didn't come for you. This is of utmost importance for my plans, so if you'll excuse me," he resumed walking towards Gabriel once again.

"Y-YOU'RE BELITTLING ME! How dare you! I'll show you what happens to those that get in the way of my plans!" he hurriedly picked up the orb, swallowing it without a second thought.

"Oh my, this is rather difficult. I had wished that it wouldn't come to this, but it seems that luck has left me for today," Alastor leapt back, positioning himself a few meters behind Laruse, who kept his eyes on Gabriel as he began convulsing, as if he were going to implode.

"If you care for those villagers, I suggest that you either transport them outside, or have someone defend them."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I'd hate for the Dark Lord to gain more power as it is with the sacrifices."

"Tch. Cecil, cast a barrier on yourself and the villagers and don't let it down no matter what!" Laruse yelled, causing Cecil to move right away, sprinting for the villagers with all her might, then standing in front of them, chanting with her voice, causing a blue domed barrier to appear, housing the villagers inside.

Gabriel continued to contort, then halting in his movements, paralyzed for some reason.

"What's wrong with him now?" asked Laruse.

"He is currently fighting the Dark Lord that possessed the blood soul. It is a test of will power, and both mental and physical strength. If one can overcome the Dark Lord's will entirely, then the one that consumed the blood soul will become the new Dark Lord."

"And if they don't?"

"Then the original Dark Lord will revive, simple as that. But with the way they weakened the Dark Lord's soul with sacrifices, we may still have a chance to defeat him."

"What do you by we? And How are you sure that he won't succeed?"

"His mind degraded to chaos and turmoil the moment I sliced off his hand. In other words, he killed himself by consuming the blood soul. And of course, the two of us will be fighting this. I won't allow you to do it alone, after all. I still need to get what I came here for."

"That's not what I meant. But no one can defeat a Dark Lord. That much is common knowledge. What makes you think that a Disciple and a human can beat one?"

"I'm confident that you can defeat a Dark Lord. After all, I still find you as one of the best candidates for my allegiance. Overcoming a task such as this only proves it more. But just to make sure, here. Bathe your sword in it, and it will allow you to injure a Dark Lord without the need for a sacred weapon."

"What is this and how did you find it?"

Soon they were interrupted as Gabriel began giving off a dreadful pressure; his aura covered him in a dark red cloak.

He stood silent and unmoving for a moment, then proceeding to look over his body, as if he doesn't know what he looked like.

"Where... am I?" he said in a low deep voice, completely different from Gabriel's original one.

"Who... am I? Have I returned to the world finally?" he began looking around.

"Good. Then I can resume my vengeance on the world for the death of my beloved," he began moving towards Laruse and Alastor.

"Move, weaklings."

"I can't let you get past from here. Only thing you'll bring to the world is more misery than it already has," said Laruse, visibly shaken, but otherwise putting up a strong front.

"Then you will die," he said as he raised his arm, causing a large, dark red aura to coat the said arm, brought down, destroying the ground with a powerful crash.

Laruse dodged in time, but still felt the tremor caused by Gabriel.

"Stay on your feet now. Losing you would be a grave loss to me. But know that he is still weak because of the ritual. If he were strong enough, he could have crushed us without much effort. Or his true image could have surfaced already, but still he possesses that cultist's body."

"How do you know so much about this?!"

"I'm a demon after all. Now stay focused. I'll try my best to cover you. Just stay on the offense and trust me."

"You think it's that easy to trust a demon?"

"It's up to you."

Laruse took a stance, pointing the tip of his potion drenched blade at the weakened Dark Lord, rushing him.

Before he could land a strike, the Dark Lord swept his colossal arm across, forcing him back.

"The humans deserve pain and agony!" he placed his hand in front of Laruse, producing a magic circle with mysterious patterns on it, glowing bright red.

Laruse instinctively dodged a strong ball of dark energy in the form of an orb of pure darkness, then lunging towards the Dark Lord's blind spot, attempting to land another attack on him.

The Dark Lord noticed this, moving his other hand in order to crush Laruse with his large palm.

But before he could motion it downwards, he was stopped by another presence who had thrown sharp blades at the Dark lord, then piercing his left arm with a spear, preventing him from moving it further.

"A demon aiding a mortal? Insolent. You are a disgrace to all the demons in this world!"

"You may call it whatever you will, but you will eventually fall, and you will serve as a step to my objectives," said Alastor to him casually.

Before Laruse could manage an attack, the Dark Lord intensified his already overwhelming aura, forcing both oppositions back away from him.

"How challenging. It has been a while since I've found someone who can't be killed instantly. I must not hold back then. That includes you, Laruse. We are the only ones right now who can defeat this Dark Lord before his powers resurface, and ravages the land."

The two of them coordinated somewhat, taking turn in attacking and avoiding the Dark Lord's devastating attacks that made the underground chamber crumble with each strike.

They could barely land any blows, and those that were successful were not remotely enough to make the Dark Lord stagger for even a bit as he seemed to get stronger with each passing second.

Laruse ran towards him at a reckless speed, leaping forward with his blade poised to thrust forward.

Alastor moved to cover Laruse, using his mysterious ability of making weapons appear from nothing, creating weapons that could allow him to obscure the Dark Lord's slow movements.

Laruse landed a direct hit on the Dark Lord's shoulder upon landing, only being swatted back without much effort; the same thing being done with Alastor, yet landing on his feet, only feeling a bit of the damage due to his constitution as a demon's disciple.

"We need to finish this soon, Laruse. He's slowly starting to regain his power. And soon the entire chamber is going to be destroyed by him as well."

"Ha- Ha- Damn, I'm working on it. This isn't something that's easy to do. We're lucky that he's still weak so far... Alright, I don't have that much left, so might as well go all out in this one. Don't even think of holding back, demon. I don't plan on dying here," said Laruse upon taking in a breath of the chamber's thick, musky air.

Meanwhile, Cecil stood still, steeling herself as she stood in front of a large crowd of villagers, holding off the powerful waves that the Dark Lord exhumed with his aura, saving them the experience of feeling the immense pressure he gave off and from the stray attacks and spells that would often go their way, failing only because of Cecil's barrier.

None could speak to her, nor did they want to seeing as she was the only one who could save their lives at the moment.

"Please bear it a bit more. Laruse will come through, I know he will. You'll definitely be saved," she reassured them with glancing smile, still holding her wavering hands up in the air, keeping the shaky barrier intact.

As Cecil kept up her own brave front, Ophelia watched from the same place they departed from, still arguing with herself about what she should do, feeling utterly powerless, yet only because she restrained herself.

She recalled the words of Laruse before he left, repeating it again and again, trying to reach a conclusion as he was currently fighting a near impossible enemy that would require the help of many to overcome.

Each time Laruse would be injured or be met with the threat of a near lethal attack, her inclination would drastically move towards helping him. But this time she was fed up.

"I can't allow this to keep me shackled. Why and how this has become a hurdle is irrelevant now. The man who promised to protect me stand right there, doing just as he had promised while I lament on my past. Truly pathetic of me... Yet I can still make a difference."

She clenched her fists, recalling what she had been taught, begrudgingly seeing the faces of his parents as she began reminiscing.

Just then, there was a roaring yell that woke her.

She glanced once more only to see Laruse pinned on the ground, barely holding back a colossal sized fist from crushing him into the ground with his sword; his arms trembling under the immense might, causing him to yell s to turn the pain into power.

She held her breath, now pressured as he was being pummeled and with no one to help him as the demon who aided him was slammed into the wall, unmoving.

"Think, Ophelia! You must help him at once!" she said to herself reappearing from the hall with her hands straight out.

She closed her eyes, thinking hard on how to cast the spell she was taught, creating a dim, red, flat circle with numerous patterns on it.

She seemed to struggle, having not used magic for a long while, only using it for such a pivotal time, and without much training to back up her confidence.

But she simply ignored all that, pouring her energy into the circle, casting a flurry of fire arrows, those of which homed in on him, directly hitting him on his face, causing a burst of fire to explode on him, amazingly forcing the Dark Lord back due to the surprise of the attack.

Despite it not having enough damage to even scratch or harm the Dark Lord, she gave Laruse the help he needed to escape being crushed, already trying to regain his composure as the Dark Lord reeled from the blow.

Seeing this as the best chance he's got, even without the Disciple to help him, he rushed the Dark Lord once more, cutting him down diagonally across his body, forcing a howl of pain from the demon, sending Laruse back once more.

"Damn, still nothing," he cursed his misfortune from under his breath, still tightly gripping his sword.

Alastor suddenly reappeared beside Laruse, heaving softly, yet surprisingly still having his smile.

"Come, let us do this once more. I fear that I have belittled the weakened Dark Lord in the beginning, but now I am sad to say that I will use everything within my power to take him down. I may be a disciple, but I shall show you the power of a demon," he said, making a sword and spear appear on his hands, looking to be made of a dark flame.

"Good. Let's finish this already!"

They both charged at the same time, filling the room in awe as the two fought terrifyingly well, each one looking as if they were possessed, hacking and slashing, being beaten down only to get back up after a few seconds, ignoring the pain.

"A-Amazing..." said Ophelia, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Though she knew Laruse was strong, she never saw him that worked up before, fighting with every fiber of his being, defying her already immense expectations of him as a human and a mortal.

As she watched, the sound of footsteps could be heard slowly coming towards her, turning around only to be startled

After a while, their terrifying strength began waning, and the Dark Lord's had begun coming back.

"My blade's not doing damage anymore," said Laruse, having retreated briefly after noticing it.

"The draught must have worn off. Here, this is my last one. Once that one wears off, you'll be useless to him. A normal sword won't do too good. Soon the Archfiend's shroud will return, and there will be no way for either of us to damage him as he will be near invincible, not unless you have something to combat that."

Without Alastor noticing, the Dark Lord had come before him, crashing his colossal fist at him which he guarded in time, only to be sent back once more into a wall, causing another tremor.

"Laruse!" from behind him came a familiar voice yelling, causing him to turn around and see Charles, heavily injured with Ophelia carrying him on his shoulders.

Focusing his sights, he saw a glowing white light in one of Charles's hands, a spear from the looks of it.

Suddenly Chris yelled out after seeing the many villagers and his grandfather amongst them.

He came forward, yelling out at Laruse.

His grandfather then rose up, desperately calling out to him saying, "What are you doing here?! Get away from here Christopher! It's too dangerous!"

"I know you can do it! Please save them!"

"You heard the young man's plea, Laruse. This is the only thing I can help with, but make use of it!" said Charles, struggling to stand up, but succeeding.

He wound up, throwing his glowing spear like an experienced warrior, precise and on point.

"C-Christopher?" said the Dark Lord, which, during this, seemed to stop at Chris's yell, as if he were paralyzed, placed on a trance, causing him to neglect Charles's spear, impaled in his left shoulder.

He let out an agonizing roar as the light that came from Charles's spear began glowing brighter, filling the chamber with its light.

"Laruse immediately noticed this chance, moving instinctively before anything else as to let it come by.

He ran for him, pointing his sword horizontally alongside him for a thrust, impacting the Dark Lord's heart as he drove his blade into him, not stopping, forcing his legs to trudge forth, then retrieving it, drawing his sword upwards for a final slash, accompanied by a sharp exhale as his blade passed along the Dark Lord's body.

"You humans are the bane of my life. You sent me to an eternal damnation when you took her away from me... Vengeance will come, and I will purge every single mortal being on this damned continent. But, my son, I am glad to see you again... I thought I never would be able to see you, but you have grown splendidly..."

 He fell to the his knees as his legs gave up on him, Laruse still tightly griping the hilt of the sword, making sure that the Dark Lord wasn't going to be moving anymore.

He breathed a sigh of relief, sitting down on the ground.

"... Is it over?"