Ater rode silently behind Baraka. Silence… He hadn't heard Eldricka's voice for a few days now. Not that he minded—he was enjoying the uninterrupted peace. Even Edward noticed, keeping his distance from Arbor and letting his friend bask in the quiet.

'But why?' Ater wondered.

The Jailer was drawing with his knife in the sand. Eldricka sat beside him, still tied up. "I need to pee!" she said angrily. "We're sitting on sand, aren't we? Besides, since when do curses need to pee?" the Jailer replied.

"I'll fucking kill all of you," Eldricka shouted. "Us? Who's 'us'?" the Jailer asked, surprised, pointing to his chest. "You gods! Every last one of you! Your blood is the only wine that can intoxicate me," the bound curse hissed.

"Oh, sorry if there's been a misunderstanding… You see, I'm not a god. I just work for them. Outside of that, I'm just an ordinary man," he laughed.

'Ordinary man, my ass,' the curse thought. 'Even if the gods are behind him, it doesn't explain his presence!'

The Jailer pulled a damp, crumpled, half-smoked cigar from his coat pocket. From another pocket, he took out a match, which he struck against his fingernail. The flame flickered for a second as it touched the tip of the cigar. With a quick hand motion, the Jailer extinguished the match and took a long, satisfying drag from the old cigar. He smiled as the smoke exited through his nose. He flicked his right hand, and the ash fell onto the sand.

"I'm curious," the Jailer began, "why do you hate the gods so much?"

"My hatred is artificial."

"Huh? Then why do you want to kill them?" he asked, confused.

"That's what I was created for."

The Jailer nodded. He wouldn't even try to understand.

Edward, Gaga, Marik, and Ater arrived in Baraka after three days of fast riding. The chieftain's daughter had finally been untied and now sat behind the Captain on his quilin. She glared at Ater sharply and intensely, not taking her eyes off him. Arbor had killed her father… There was no way she could take him down now. She had tried to sneak up on him in his sleep, but strange blood-made snakes surrounded Ater, hissing at her whenever she approached.

The group went straight from the city gates to visit Ridsig at the gladiator arena. Ater gave him a brief summary of what had happened, leaving out parts about Eldricka and the death of the goddess Bereginiy.

"Chieftain Veteres… is dead?" the old man asked in shock. Arbor nodded. "That's right. I killed him." Ridsig trembled in disbelief: "Don't get me wrong, kid, you're one of the best fighters I've ever met… But the Great Chieftain is on a completely different level!"

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"I managed… But now I need a favor from you. Veteres's daughter is with us. I'm heading back to Europe and I don't want to drag her along. Can she stay here with you?"

Ridsig agreed immediately. The daughter of the Great Chieftain! She must be a great fighter. The old man was intrigued.

The daughter of the late Great Chieftain stood beside Ridsig, watching Arbor and his crew with a sharp gaze as they moved away from the Arena. Arbor turned on his quilin and gave her a piercing look. 'I have no ill feelings toward her… I'm sorry it had to end like this. She's a capable fighter; she'll have a great chance for success under Ridsig's guidance.' At that moment, Ater realized he had never caught her name…

Captain Edward, sailors Gaga and Marik, and the Dark Doctor, Ater Arbor, stood on the pedestal next to the large central crystal. The old operator eyed them suspiciously. "You want me to send you to the same crystal you arrived from?" the old man asked. Ater nodded. The operator entered something into the control panel and pulled a long lever. A powerful lightning strike blinded them all, but when they opened their eyes, they were still in the same room. "What happened?" Edward asked.

"Eh... I'm not sure. You're all here, but there was lightning. Something must have been transported!" the operator explained, confused.

Gege picked up a piece of paper from the floor. It hadn't been there earlier. The paper was written in Mundian, and Gege handed it to Ater without a word. Arbor began to read aloud: "The Prince has gone mad. He has Theresa. Antonus is dead. The others have fled. Be ready—Frejo."

Ater froze. "The Prince's magic really has returned..." Arbor muttered aloud. "Antonus… I bet he kept his promise to me until his last breath. His sacrifice won't be in vain."

"I'm not sure we can defeat the Prince. Outsmarting him is out of the question, and besides, he's already expecting us..." Ater continued.

"But we have Eldricka! If she killed Veteres, she can kill the Prince too!" Edward whispered, so the operator wouldn't hear. "Eldricka hasn't spoken for a few days... I don't know what's going on, but we can't rely on her help. There are powerful artifacts in the north that we could steal... They might level the playing field."

"Theresa is with him," Edward said grimly. Ater only nodded. There was no time to waste "Gaga, Marik, ride to Ridsig. Wait for us there. If we don't return in four days, assume we failed."

Ater's forehead began to sweat. Nervously, he bit his lip. Edward had never seen him like this. He always thought of Ater as a fighting junkie, an adrenaline addict who got his fix from battling overwhelming opponents. But in Arbor's eyes, there was fear, like a lamb that had wandered into a bear's den.

Gege and Marik stepped down from the pedestal. Edward drew his sword. Ater lowered his chin to his chest, staring at the floor. "I wish I could pray..." Ater said. "...but we killed your goddess," Edward finished for him. The confused operator pulled the lever. THUMP!

Blinding whiteness. Ater grabbed his stomach in nausea. Edward steadied him. After three weeks, they found themselves back in the castle garden. The duo looked around. The bushes had overgrown, with branches and leaves scattered all over the stone path. The gazebo where they once had breakfast was now gone. The entire garden was completely neglected.

A woman's scream echoed through the empty castle.

Amatus sat in his chair, watching Ater. 'This is going to be interesting,' he thought.

"Just so you know, we've arrived in Europe," the Jailer said. "Ater is preparing to fight the Prince."

"The Prince? Veteres' boy? I remember him... Ater won't be able to beat him," the curse responded curtly. The Jailer laughed. 'This is going to be bloody,' he thought.