After telling Sister Hana the fate of the Smiths, she forced him into the church while she delivered the news to others. He went to the bathing area and took off what remained of his clothes, then thoroughly washed. Not in the mood for conversation or food, Raphael quickly dashed to his room and locked the door.

Laying down on his bed, Raphael could feel the day's exhaustion catching up to him. He had never used so much mana before and now understood his limitations. He wondered what he could do with more mana at his disposal, and the images of his fight Infernus flashed through his mind. One thing that he had learned from the battle against Infernus was that he shouldn't overly rely on just his magic. The skills he possessed were insufficient at best, and the only reason he survived was due to the odd relationship he developed with the manic wolf.

With that thought, Raphael finally closed his now heavy eyes and fell asleep. Like any other person, sleep for Raphael led him to the lands of dreams. Often, he would find himself in the comfort of his dreams where all is possible according to the imagination of his resting mind. Dreams are nice since they are separated from the truth of reality. It was always easy to differentiate between the two. But at times such as this, Raphael found it hard to tell whether it was a dream or not.

He found himself in an unfamiliar forest. As far as he could tell, it was dark and the stars filled the night sky. Thick and dense trees surrounded him from all sides. The strange thing was that despite being in a forest, there was no sound of the wildlife. The silence was so thick, he could hear the beating of his own heart and the flow of his blood.

BOOM!

Raphael jolted in the surprise at the loud noise. Facing the direction of said noise, he could make out the flickering of bright purple light. Suddenly, his legs were on the move, forcing him towards the lights. It was this feeling again, the same one that took him to Infernus earlier during the day. Deciding to trust this feeling once more, he continued with haste.

As he drew closer, he could hear the clashing of blades and the grunts of unidentified individuals. A flash of light caught his eyes once again and he quickly ducked beneath a bush. Moving closer, he calmed down his nerves. He hid behind a tree and tried to make out the situation happening before him.

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In the open meadow, there stood a man in a cloak, surrounded by men with swords of all sizes. But, what really drew Raphael's attention was the blade that shone with a dim purple light that the man had in his grasp. It was hard to see the full blade, but purple energy was pulsating as if alive, similar to the rhythm of a human heart. For some reason, Raphael could feel an ache in his own heart when laying his eyes on the sword. His attention drew away from the blade when one of the men spoke.

"........, we have been searching for you for a long time now. Our orders are to have you swiftly executed."

The man in the cloak stood in silence and readied his sword. With that motion, the men jumped towards the man. What happened next was simply too beautiful that Raphael could only let his jaws fall in awe.

The man was dancing his way through the small battlefield. With the blade as a partner, the man performed elegant and swift movements. With every step, an opponent dropped to the ground lifeless. The only way of keeping track of the man was the flickering of purple every few moments or so. The men stood no chance against such an elegant beast.

Raphael watched the man in the cloak with all the attention his brain could muster. Such swordplay could only be the result of years upon years of training. However, there has to be something beyond the elegance presented, an inborn aspect that had been honed to perfection; instinct. The cloaked man moved on pure instinct, he danced with a sword in hand to sever his enemies in quick movements. With no wasted moments of any kind, it left his enemies with no room to escape their demise as they all fell to the domineering swordplay.

The man now stood in a meadow filled with the bodies of his fallen enemies, and not a single drop of blood on his blade. Raphael did not anything but stare at the man, who single-handedly massacred his way through dozens of enemies in the timespan of only a minute. The man turned around to face Raphael, the only thing visible was the glare of bright purple eyes.

Raphael was shocked, in front of him was the face of a man he never had seen before, but his visage and that of Infernus crossed in his mind. There was no way a human and wolf would look-alike however their eyes and demeanor could not be more identical. Of course, that meant that the mania of the wolf presented itself in the cloaked man as he lunged himself towards Raphael. The blade moved in accordance with its master's whims to kill the boy that was left alone in the field. Raphael was too slow to avoid the blade as his torso was torn in half, then as Raphael was being swelled by the darkness of death he awoke.

Sweating and panting, Raphael could only sit up straight in the bed with shock. What did he just dream of? Was it simply just a dream? Raphael touched his torso, afraid he was still detached from his lower half.

That felt way too real, it was more of something like a distant memory than a nightmare. 'Infernus did not have a memory like this. What the hell is going on?' Raphael grew concerned at what he just experienced.

Deep within the forest where Infernus had left, the slumbering beast awoke. A lone eye of his opened to shine its brilliant purple with the sunlight that rained on him. 'What was that two-legs with the stick doing?'

That concerning dream had finally brought back lost souls that drifted apart to find each other once again.