Glenn shot forward, his eyes flashing with a blue mystical glint. He clenched his fist tightly, summoning his Mana and wrapping it around it. Doyle Malory didn't move as he curiously watched Glenn lunging at him with murderous intent.

"Oh, so you're a mage! Great!" Doyle grinned and stepped to the side while playing with the scalpel he was holding. Glenn's eyes trembled but he didn't let anything show. He twisted on his feet, his left hand covered in a cloud of Nitrogen. Ice crystals formed on the young man's skin as the painful burn from the sub-zero cold bit on his hand. Glenn struck precisely, speed, and might combine in a single, deadly attack.

"My, oh my, that's not exactly magic there...How interesting! Are you perhaps one of Their Apostle? That would be quite the humorous joke," Doyle Malory rubbed his chin, avoiding the strike with a sole step yet again. The handsome man seemed to not care whatsoever about Glenn's attacks and looked like he was more lost in his thoughts than concentrating on the fight. Glenn clenched his teeth before trying to create a Mana Blade.

The spell faded away as soon as it left the comforting nest it came from, dispersed into the void. Glenn was about to swear about his luck when a literal lightning bolt shot through the room, leaving trails of electricity behind itself. The bronze plates reacted by vibrating ominously, the silver globe floating in the room's center humming strangely. The rings of bronze contraptions rang as their speed increased steadily. Glenn squinted, before looking back at Doyle.

The handsome man was shaking his hand away with a pained expression, blowing air on it as if he had just gotten burned.

"Phew, phew, I almost got my clothes damaged...I never expected to see another Black Heir controlling both Aura and lightning. Ah, you made me remember some good times!" Doyle laughed while holding his belly, his hand rid of any possible damage it incurred. Sahro gasped as he leaned on his sword, his body covered in blueish sparks.

"This...This bastard is moving too fast for me to see it!" The Black Heir grunted, pointing his curved sword at the enemy. Glenn gulped, his mind racing to try and find a way to help. He wasn't particularly the best at melee combat and even less at hand-to-hand fighting.

'Shit, who would have known I'd have to fight in a place where spells are sealed?' He bit down on his lips and charged forward once again, kicking at Doyle's shin with all his strength. Sahro closely followed behind him, his sword covered in a sharp, condensed dark-red Aura, ready to split anything into bits. Glenn powered his kick with Mana, charging his legs with the mystical energy and amplifying the damage it was supposed to produce.

Doyle yawned suddenly, hiding his mouth behind his hand. Surprisingly, he didn't move whatsoever, allowing Glenn and Sahro's attacks to land. He caught Sahro's blade in between two fingers, flinging it away alongside its owner while throwing Glenn a pitiful gaze. The young man's eyes widened as he felt his foot break against the steel-like shin, the Mana he used to charge it dispersing away uselessly.

"...Why would you go for my legs out of all my body parts? You are very unlucky, aren't you...Glenn?" Doyle licked his lips, a voracious smile decorating his face. Glenn limped away, a deadly shiver chilling him down to the bones. Goosebumps shook his body throughout as beads of cold sweat swirled down his neck. Doyle straightened his sleeves, wiping off the blood on his scalpel on his white coat, before drawing a deep breath.

"When I think back to it, I lost my pet necromancer to you, as well as my trusty aide Maurice!" Doyle sighed sadly, resentfully looking at a pile of bones resting in the corner of the room. Glenn followed his gaze and felt his heart stop. He could see bite marks on the remains, which were completely picked clean of any flesh that might have been stuck to it. Doyle slapped himself on the forehead, chuckling all by his lonely self.

"Ah, silly me~" He shook his head, smacking his lips together, "...I'm the one who ate Maurice! I couldn't help myself, it had been a while since I last tasted some Earth-affinity..." Doyle rubbed his chin, returning next to the operating table, Maron still strapped tightly on it. Luckily for him, the merchant had lost consciousness, making him technically impervious to the pain from Doyle's torture. The handsome man frowned, and poked at Maron with his scalpel, ignoring Sahro who was stabbing with all his strength toward him.

"Oh no, I didn't get to savor enough of you, my dear Maron...Come on, wakey wakey..." Doyle violently grabbed Maron's hand while swatting Sahro's attack away with the other. Glenn pressed his left hand covered in deadly cold on his right foot, freezing the pain away, before charging once again. Doyle suddenly twisted the merchant's hand, breaking it, before continuing to turn it again and again, until the flesh became unable to resist the torsion and ripped off.

Glenn flinched and closed one eye, feeling the pain in Maron's place. He lunged forward again, his left hand outstretched, in an attempt to shoot as much Nitrogen as possible. Even if the attack remained only for a second before being dispersed by the Blumar's interference, it could potentially be the single second they needed to defeat this demon in human skin. Doyle sighed with disappointment, before thoughtlessly munching on Maron's hand, ripping small strips of flesh one after the other, licking the blood flowing everywhere.

"~Hmm, it's not that good when the owner isn't awake. Too bad, I think if I take a little more he'll probably die. Thankfully," Doyle's head snapped at Glenn as he blocked the Nitrogen-covered fist with his own, seemingly unbothered by the deadly cold.

"...It seems like some even tastier treats came to me by themselves! How~ lucky of me!" Doyle laughed happily, shoving Maron's hand in his mouth in an impossible fashion, his cheekbones cracking and his jaw dislodging itself from the effort. Doyle Malory swallowed with bliss, before looking at Sahro with a dumbfounded gaze.

"...What? Have you never seen a fellow man enjoy a delicious snack?" He asked innocently, wiping his hands on his white coat, covering it in increasing amounts of blood. It was safe to say that the coat was more red than white at this stage. Glenn bit his cheeks and spat to the side.

"What the hell even are you?" His eyes trembled with hate and disgust, Sahro silently standing next to him. Doyle froze for a few seconds wordlessly, before exploding in laughter.

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"Hahaha....Hahahaaha!!! What am I?" Doyle suddenly disappeared, his laugh dying out in the darkness.

'...This isn't looking too good, Glenn.' Diamanes warned with a serious tone. Glenn didn't get even a second to retort that a devilishly handsome man suddenly surged out from nowhere to stand in front of him, flashing a wide smile adorned with teeth dripping with blood.

"...Let me tell you a story, my dear, passionate Glenn." The young man punched forward with cold rage, Doyle's figure dispersing into the shadows, reappearing sitting on top of Maron's practically dead body.

'...He's not going to explain his villain backstory, is he?' Glenn stopped, a terrible feeling creeping up his back.

"Once upon a time, really not that far away, existed humans. In their quality as human beings, they were unable to live peacefully together. No threat was too grand to force them to fight together, no reason too important for such an unthinkable thing to happen. So, to add fuel to the fire, one of the most intelligent beings of this..." Doyle's expression twisted madly, losing any semblance of humanity, "...trash can people call a planet decided to create something that would force humans to cooperate. Never heard of the story of the Demon King?" The handsome man's face calmed down, any of its inhuman parts fading away like mirages.

Except for the blood and flesh stuck in the guy's teeth, of course.

Glenn blinked, snorting.

"...Are you pulling my leg here?" He couldn't help but ask with irritation. Sahro silently listened, his eyes stuck on the silver ball whose speed was still increasing at the mechanical ring's rhythm. Doyle laughed heartily, slapping his thigh.

"Yes, I know, it's the lamest story of them all. But what can I do, it's the only story I know!" Doyle Malory smiled charmingly, charm which still decreased quite a lot when flesh slipped down from his mouth to fall on his white coat. Doyle picked the strip back up and shoved it down his throat, swallowing it ecstatically, enjoying the bit of flesh like a rare delicacy. Glenn's nose creased and his fists tightened, but he kept on pretending to listen.

So far, anything he had tried to come up with to fight off this demon had been entirely useless, as had been Sahro's efforts. Defeating the demon wasn't of much importance, in reality. What was, though, was to bring back Maron at all cost. Glenn couldn't afford to see the one holding on his golden ticket to the Bourgeoise get swallowed away. Doyle waved dismissively, rolling his eyes.

"Anyway, yadee, yadaa, the Demon King terrorized the world with his unstoppable force and army, led by the Twelve Blood Generals of whatever..."

Glenn raised an eyebrow. Was it just him or was Doyle's elegance fading away with each second he spent telling his story? Doyle jumped down from his seat, his hands tightly clasped behind his back as he walked in turn around the operating table.

"Even faced with such a threat, humans could do nothing but send one, righteous man to fight the Demon King and his henchmen off. He was the bravest and strongest man under the heavens, liked by every human and hated by all demons or monsters, or whatever creatures were ugly enough to be considered as such." Doyle Malory raised his hand theatrically.

"The brave man fought countless times, growing stronger as time passed, progressively defeating mightier and mightier opponents, until he finally managed to slay one Blood General, then another, and you can probably guess what followed..." Doyle yawned once again, this time not bothering to hide his mouth, free from any semblance of etiquettes. Glenn glanced at the silver ball spinning in the center of the room, wondering if there was a way to accelerate its speed. Perhaps, if it reached a terminal point, something disastrous enough would happen that'd make the demon flee. It looked like the only dangerous thing in this damned room where magic was forbidden.

"Oh, but please, keep on telling, it's quite an enjoyable story," Glenn crossed his arms while nodding slightly, making Doyle chuckle lightly.

"Heh, trying to live for a little longer. I respect that...Anyway, where was I...Yes, of course, the Blood Generals all got defeated, and on that bloody path, the brave man became known as the Hero, earning fame, fortunes, but most importantly, trusty comrades who helped him in his righteous quest."

Doyle sighed, suddenly disappearing in a black cloud. Glenn glanced around, blinking when he found the handsome demon walking on top of one of the spinning rings that held the floating silver ball.

"After infinite struggles and challenges, as well as picking up some trifling Holy Sword on the way, the Hero and his party faced off against the Demon King. Long story short, the Demon King was slain and peace was brought back to the world. Well, no, it would be more correct to say that the world was brought back to its original state, which wasn't much better than under the Demon King's reign of terror."

The man played with his scalpel, throwing the sharp knife in the air and catching it in extremis by the blade each time, lost in thoughts.

"Only, they miscalculated something. The different leaders of that time I mean. They thought that after slaying the Demon King, the Hero would probably just...go back to his peasant life or something, and take all of his hard-earned fortune away..."

Doyle's face twisted evilly and blood pumped to his face. Black veins strained under his skin, pulsing with a disgusting liveliness. He jumped down next to Maron, and ragefully ripped the merchant's arm off. Sahro took a step forward, lightning crackling around him and his sword, but Glenn held him back. For some reason, it seemed like Maron was still alive, despite the unending torture Doyle was inflicting on him. For now, the merchant would have to hang onto his life while he figured out a way to get rid of this horrible creature.

"...They tainted his fame, sullied his honor..." Doyle's voice grew rough and cavernous, becoming inhumanly heavy, "...and tortured his friends for any hidden treasure the Hero might have left behind. In a totally reasonable sequence of events, the Hero killed every single person behind this treachery, destroying everything on his path to revenge." Doyle ragefully forced the ripped arm down his throat, munching on it in a nightmarish cacophony of crackling bones and bleeding flesh.

Glenn shook his head, his fists clenched. He closed his eyes, holding back his need to puke from disgust. No, he had seen worse, he had endured worse, this was nothing.

"So what? You're the Hero who lost both his friends and marbles? That still doesn't excuse you from becoming worse than the piece of shit you fought against!" He spat, his brows creased and his will resolute. He will bury this fucking creature from Hell. Doyle listened with a slight smile when the veins grew even more and his voice became even more inhuman.

"Oh, but you got me wrong. I'm no Demon King, nor a silly Hero. No..."

The demon grinned, opening his arms widely as if to hug the world.

"...I'm only the very modest Lightbringer, the one who lit the fire that began this beautiful mess, but also the one that deals with it every single time..."

Doyle smiled any shadows of his previous appearance were replaced by bulging muscles, melting flesh, and rotten organs. The dark hue of Death was enshrouding him like a cold cloak protecting him from the light.

"...I obeyed the Gods forever...Creating wars and monsters...Breaking continents or building long-standing kingdoms..."

The Demon smiled, before bowing while tipping an imaginary hat.

"...Until I stopped listening...Hence becoming a...wait," Doyle scratched the back of his head, biting on his bleeding lips with bulging eyes, before clapping his hands together.

"Yeah, they used to call me that!"

"Doyle, previously the Lightbringer..."

Doyle bowed once again, failing to show any grace.

"...And now the Fallen One,"

He raised his head slightly, grinning evilly, blood dripping down from his mouth in a crimson cascade.

"...Or, for the uneducated, the One Who Shall End This World."