An hour or so ago.

Sahro gulped loudly, his throat dry as the blood dripped down on his face, the blank faces of the villagers staring at him wordlessly. The Black Heir touched his burning forehead with puzzlement, the white mark inflicting him with a strangely refreshing pain. His thoughts seemed to become clearer and clearer, getting rid of the fog in his eyes and letting him see what he previously missed. Among the villagers, some were simply staring at him expressionlessly, which was off-putting, but not that scary. The others, though, really made his back crawl with shivers.

Strange tics, fingers snapped in impossible directions, an arm with two bends, a leg shorter than the other... Sahro rubbed his eyes, getting rid of the blood that got in them, trying to double-check what he was seeing. He turned toward Trenton, the worker he befriended, but was only met with three fish eyes glistening with moistness. The man's mouth cracked open, his jaws forcingly shaping in a way that could never been possible otherwise.

"Sa...Sa..." Trenton smiled horribly, blood streaming down his chin as a guttural voice came out of his throat as if forced out of it.

"Sa...Sahro...Why won't you drink?" The creature struggled to say, its teeth clattering and his jawbones breaking to produce the sound. Trenton reached for his throat, scratching at it, scratching and scratching until the skin came off, revealing the flesh underneath it. But it wasn't enough for the creature, as it kept digging, seizing with a violent movement its vocal chord, pulling it out in an ecstatic groan.

Sahro stepped back, reaching for his waist, only to find it empty of his cherished sword.

"Shit..." He muttered through his teeth, continuing to move backward until his rear touched the door. His eyes lit up at the possible escape, and he reached for the handle with his hand, pushing with all he could. The door shook and trembled, creaking loudly as he exerted his strength, but it didn't open.

"The ceremony isn't over yet, Sahro. You surely can spare a few more minutes, right?" A feminine voice came from the center of the church, behind the crowd. Sahro slowly turned back, trying to ignore the blood-dripping Trenton. He tightly clenched his fists while Tarana made her way through the crowd, closely defended by Gentle Knight, who only had the Knight for name, his armor and sword missing, similarly dressed as Sahro.

"Kahrolasi seytan..." The Black Heir muttered through his teeth. His eyes darted around for a possible escape, but besides the door, there was no exit. The walls were made of wood, so it could be possible to break them, but would the villagers let him do so?

Tarana opened her mouth to reply, when her neck suddenly got twisted by an invisible force, her head snapping and turning in her back's direction. Sahro gasped and stepped forward in worry, only to freeze in deep horror when the lady slowly brought her hands to her head, snapping it back in place as if nothing happened. Tarana's eyelids twitched, before she crossed her fingers together, smiling coldly.

"Hmm, a Seedling... So your kind is still alive, huh?" Tarana said with an otherworldly voice, one that she shouldn't own. A voice filled with infinite, but corrupted wisdom, a voice that seemed as old as the world itself. Tarana, or whatever was possessing her, licked her lips voraciously before leaning forward in an alluring posture.

"You'll make an excellent vessel for My Children...Come, Seedling, and receive My blessing..." Tarana opened her arms, her previously small stature suddenly seeming gigantic, overwhelming, and making Sahro's knees shake. He took a step forward against his will, then another, and could only stare with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as his body refused to listen to him and walked toward the dreadful lady.

Suddenly, the white mark on his forehead shone with a powerful light and burned away all control over him. It had never been so bright in the Black Heir's whole life, not even when he received this Inheritance Sigil. Besides being there to increase the efficiency for all Black Heirs to learn both Magic and Aura, it was supposed to act like a talisman that protected against evil, but Sahro had never seen it in action. He jumped back, feeling the strength come back in his limbs, his Aura flaring out of his body uncontrollably. The wood flooring crackled and shattered in splinters as his Aura intensified powerfully, making him feel like he could do anything. The Sigil burned with an inextinguishable white flame that fueled him with an infinite quantity of energy.

Tarana frowned, before leaning back and rubbed her chin while lost in thoughts.

"How...fascinating. It seems like Lady Fate decided to change the rules this time around..." She muttered with her cavernous voice, before lazily waving her hand at Sahro. The villagers that seemed to be..."modified", like Trenton, suddenly moved like a single entity, rushing toward the Black Heir. The latter, far from feeling the dread the crowd exuded, instead smiled coldly as the Aura he exuded condensed around his fists, gleaming in a crimson mystical light.

"Come, come, I'll send you all back to Hell!" He roared, the strength in him growing without any signs of stopping. Trenton was the first to jump at him, being the closest to him, smiling with a broken, bleeding mouth as it tried to bite down on Sahro. The Black Heir avoided the attack while feeling his rage die down in a matter of seconds, the face of his friend flashing in his mind, as well as the times they spent together building Palancar. As much as that time was fake, it was still a time of happiness for the Black Heir, who felt accepted and liked by the whole community.

'But it was all fake, wasn't it?' Sahro thought, his teeth clenched as he jumped back and kicked away another malformed human. He couldn't help but hesitate to fight back against those who were once humans, but most of all, once his friends. The light of his Sigil suddenly intensified and his eyes seemed to open to the world's true nature, seeing colors he never thought existed, and strange links traversing the entirety of the church, all toward Tarana's central figure. The misshaped humans were all linked with black iron chains, controlled like stringed puppets, while the other villagers only had a black cloud surrounding their heads.

Sahro's eyes shone and he jumped over Trenton, stepping on his head while spinning in the air as he delivered a powerful kick charged in Aura at the chain, trying to sever it. His feet only passed through it, the chain immaterial and unbreakable, but certainly real.

The Black Heir spun in the air and landed on another creature's face, jumping above them again. His face turned sour as he came down to a grim realization.

"There's no saving them..." He muttered, before turning abruptly at Tarana with a rageful expression, "Isn't that right, Mother of All?!?"

A wicked smile slowly rose on Tarana's face as the lady gently pulled with her hand, the chains suddenly straightening and taking something out of the body of the misshaped humans. The chains retracted in the woman's hand while she watched with a satisfied expression when her body suddenly compressed on itself, the thin limbs breaking and reduced to pulp. Without any signs of pain, Tarana, no, the Mother of All, smiled again, before nodding at Sahro.

"Time to go. I hope you'll be friends with my child, he's a little shy and has a hard time making some. Farewell, Seedling blessed by Fate," She laughed loudly as Tarana's body kept on compressing and compressing until it turned into a smashed mass of writhing flesh. Sahro turned his attention back to the villagers freed from the chains, their limbs twitching and trembling unnaturally.

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Trenton fell on his knees, his vocal chord hanging out of his throat when his left arm exploded, replaced by a thick, black tentacle moving with its sentience. Trenton exploded in laughter as more parts of his body were shredded, replaced by macabre versions of animal limbs. The transformation suddenly stopped, and Trenton coughed out, choking on something. He reached with his hand in his throat, ripping it a little more, before pulling a thick, large handle. It was attacked with a bone hammer head made out of the man's ribs, that collapsed on itself, held together only by dark magic and strips of flesh.

The other creatures showed similar transformations, becoming literal soldiers of Hell itself, splattering blood everywhere like small bombs of paint. Sahro felt his knees weakened, but the Sigil on his forehead gave him the strength to do what he must do.

"...The strength to do what I must..." Sahro muttered, ducking under the swipe of Trenton's large hammer. His eyes suddenly became injected with blood as he roared at the sky at the unfairness of this world, before punching out with all his strength, lifting the grotesque body off its feet, before the shockwave ripped half the already destroyed corpse apart. Sahro felt the drops of crimson liquid fall on his face and yet, he could only feel one thing.

Rage.

He swiped his hair back, the blood serving as a thick hair polish. Sahro gently grabbed the bone hammer, before staring at the Amalgams charging at him. They were all more monstrous than the others, more deformed, more horrible. The Black Heir held the hammer with both hands, taking a deep breath as the positions of his legs changed slightly as if he was aiming his left shoulder at the wave of creatures.

He clenched his teeth and exerted his muscles to their limits as he took the swing of his life, the hammer covered in the crimson, almost black Aura he was infusing inside it.

"DIE!!!" He screamed, his throat dry and his voice filled with contempt and hate. The blow swiped the creatures away, leaving nothing but their lower limbs and enormous quantities of blood flying in the air, painting the inside of the church red. The bone hammer disintegrated from the strength of the attack, leaving him with nothing but his hands to fight with.

But that would be more than enough.

He turned at the red jewel, what he could bet was the source of all this evil, ready to blow the stone to smithereens. He frowned, realizing there was still someone standing between him and the jewel, a young handsome man with a baby face dressed in white clothes drenched in blood, his hands placed on the pommel of his sword that was aimed at the ground.

"...Gentle Knight," Sahro spat through his teeth, taking a step forward with determination. Gentle Knight smiled without saying a word and a pristine white armor appeared around him, encasing him in the strongest protection known to men, cold, hard steel.

"I'm sorry, dear friend, but I can't let you pass," The Knight gently said, turning the sword and pointing it at the Black Heir. Sahro took another step, undeterred, his boots splashing in puddles of blood.

"Get out of my way, Knight, or I swear I'll make it so that your mother can't recognize you," Sahro clenched his fist, the crimson Aura condensing around it. Gentle Knight sighed, before taking on a defensive stance, his weapon going up in white flames.

"May the Goddess bless me," Gentle Knight whispered, clenching the handle of his sword firmly. Sahro swore, before jumping at Gentle Knight with all his strength. The bones and corpses of the creatures he already killed cracked under his feet as he launched himself under the expressionless stares of the villagers not corrupted yet, who stood at the edge of the fight.

Gentle Knight screamed defiantly as he swung his sword masterfully, the blade encountering the Black Heir's fist, a loud clanging sound echoing in the bloody church. The shockwave made the walls tremble, and the wooden floor under the Knight's feet cracked open before he managed to push Sahro away.

The Black Heir twirled in the air, before charging back at his opponent. Gentle Knight coughed blood, damaged by the countershock of the powerful attack. He looked at his hands covered in blood and smiled coldly, the atmosphere around him suddenly changing as he lowered the visor of his helmet. Sahro was about to pounce but suddenly retreated, his instincts screaming at him.

"...You're really strong, Sahro. I suppose I have no choice, then," The Knight sighed, before piercing his left hand with his sword. Sahro watched warily, unsure whether he should attack now. Gentle Knight, sliced his hands open, his middle finger flying in the air before going up in ashes with a black and white flame.

The Knight took one step forward, his pristine white armor slowly turning into a dark shade of black, the shadows seemingly gathering around him. Sahro took a step back, his eyes trying to distinguish his opponent's figure that seemed to melt within the darkness.

"...One Step for the Goddess...Two steps for our souls..." The figure muttered, a dreadful feeling emanating from him. Sahro suddenly felt his back hitting something. Without realizing it, he had backed up to the end of the church, next to the exit door. His eyes widened as he felt his heart race, the loud beatings echoing in his head as if it were trying to escape from his chest.

'This is...why would I feel...fear? Against him?' Sahro dreadfully thought, his hands trembling as he struggled to maintain his concentration. The seemingly infinite power the Sigil was procuring him seemed insignificant compared to whatever Gentle Knight unsealed.

The Black Heir could feel it.

The cold breath of Death.

But today was not the day. The young man clenched his teeth and picked a broken bone from the ground with trembling hands, his eyes opening madly as he roared and planted the sharp item in his leg. The pain woke him up instantly and pushed the fear away, his gums bleeding from how hard he clenched.

"A last step...to deliver us all," Gentle Knight's armor was as black as ink, and the shadows swirled and swallowed him, hiding him from Sahro's sight in a perplexing motion. The glint of his sword could barely be noticed as he raised his sword high above his head.

"Amen," He whispered, before slashing down with all his might, exploding in a maddened laughter. A large blade made of inky shadows flew at Sahro, opening the ground like a knife in butter. The Black Heir gathered all of his Aura and punched out, the rage and pain blinding him from the unavoidable death that was coming.

And yet, that's when he felt it.

A jolt. A small feeling that made him feel like his mind was going slightly faster, his movements were slightly more rapid, more precise. His Aura was gathered more precisely, more efficiently, with less loss and more power. Sharper, deadlier, better than before. Time seemed to slow as the attack came, and Sahro felt it.

He had broken through, evolving from a Squire to a full-fledged Knight. It wasn't the time to rejoice, though, and besides that, it also felt like he had unlocked something entirely different. Something...magical. The Black Heir tried to feel whatever this little "something" was and felt the jolt come back, going through his whole body even stronger. Time became even slower, and his thoughts fastened past human limits. He tried to push slightly in his left and suddenly, he was in front of Gentle Knight, his fist covered in Aura-shaped knuckles-dusters.

The shadows were blown away by the superhuman speed, revealing the Knight's ecstatic eyes through the visor, still unaware that Death had changed sides. The fist crashed into the mad face, splitting it open as teeth were blown away and bones splintered open, the steel helmet as useful as a sheet of paper in front of Sahro's sheer might. Time seemed to come back as Gentle Knight flew at outrageous speed, crashing into the wall of the church and breaking it open, letting the fresh air of the night inside this rotten hell.

Sahro felt his strength leave his body and he fell on one knee, looking at his fist in awe. He then heard a slight crackle and looked back to see a blue light disappear as fast as lightning. The Black Heir's thoughts slowed down as he almost crashed on the ground from the expenditure of energy.

A loud explosion, followed by a thunderous earthquake shook him back awake as he gasped for air, his heart beating at unthinkable speed, menacing to blow up. A series of explosions came from outside the church, surrounding it as if Palancar was being sieged by powerful fire mages. The previously expressionless villagers suddenly yelled with expressions of terror and fear and rushed out while screaming.

"THE RITUAL!!!"

"NOOO!!"

They left Sahro alone, his mind confused at trying to understand what was going on. He coughed as he tried to push himself up before a movement caught his eyes. Near the abandoned red jewel, a thick pool of blood was moving slowly, squirming disgustingly. Sahro held out his hand in dread, but it was too late. The blood touched the stone, which absorbed all of it in a single second.

The stone opened without leaving Sahro time to rest, spitting up a deformed person. The Black Heir clenched his teeth, wiping the blood off his eyebrows, before gathering the little he had remaining of Aura in his fists.

The Sigil on his forehead flared up once more, and he felt his consciousness slip away.

Maybe it was time to finally let go.

"Not today," He muttered, his eyes injected with blood as he clenched his fists harder, his palms bleeding slightly. A mad smile decorated his face as he roared to the sky.

Death shall wait a little more.