Amid the flames and chaos, Hildagard and Artreus stood before the towering figure of Demon King Abaddon, his presence suffocating and menacing. The fiery glow of the destruction around them reflected in his eyes, which burned with cold malice.

"We're not done yet, Valkyrie," Abaddon said, his voice a low, mocking growl. "Do you really think you can escape from me? Especially with your young one in tow?"

Artreus, trembling yet unable to tear his gaze away, stared up at the Demon King. There was something familiar about him—a nagging memory that suddenly clicked. His eyes widened. "You… You're the giant man I bumped into earlier!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with shock.

Abaddon chuckled darkly, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Ah, so you remember, young one. How amusing. I did warn you, didn't I? Celebrations like this never last."

He turned his attention back to Hildagard, his voice colder now. "Valkyrie, hand over the Stone of Kalius, and I might spare your son."

Hildagard's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her axe. "I don't have the stone," she said firmly, her voice unwavering.

Abaddon tilted his head, his smile fading into a scowl. "Ah… so unwise," he hissed, his tone dripping with menace.

He took a step closer, the ground trembling beneath his weight. Hildagard immediately stepped in front of Artreus, her body shielding him from the looming threat.

"Stay right behind me, Artreus!" she said urgently, her voice firm despite the fear she buried deep within her heart.

Artreus nodded, his small frame trembling with both fear and admiration as he watched his mother prepare to face the monster.

"Do you really think you can defeat me, Valkyrie?" Abaddon sneered, drawing his massive, blood-red sword. "And without my full power?"

"I will do what I must," Hildagard shot back, her voice fierce and resolute.

With a cry of defiance, she charged at the Demon King, her gleaming axe raised. Their weapons clashed with a deafening roar, sparks flying as the force of their blows reverberated through the battlefield. Artreus stood frozen, watching in awe as his mother fought the Demon King itself.

The battle was relentless. Abaddon's strikes were powerful, each swing of his massive sword threatening to crush Hildagard. But she held her ground, countering with swift and precise attacks, her Valkyrie armor glowing with every movement.

"Mom…" Artreus whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the battle. His heart pounded as he watched her fight with everything she had.

For a moment, it seemed Hildagard was gaining the upper hand. With a burst of light from her axe, she temporarily blinded the Demon King, slashing across his face and forcing him to retreat a step.

"Is that all?" Abaddon growled, his voice filled with fury.

Before she could strike again, Abaddon retaliated. He delivered a crushing punch to Hildagard's stomach, sending her staggering. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed her by the head and slammed her into the ground with terrifying force. The impact cracked the earth beneath her.

"Mom!" Artreus screamed, his voice breaking as he watched in horror.

Abaddon wasn't finished. He hurled Hildagard into a nearby wall, the force of the impact sending debris flying. She struggled to her feet, her breathing labored, but before she could fully recover, a blast of fire erupted from Abaddon's palm, slamming into her shield. The explosion shattered it into pieces, leaving her defenseless as she fell to one knee.

"Last chance, Valkyrie," Abaddon growled, towering over her. "Where is the Stone of Kalius? Or the boy dies."

Hildagard's eyes widened, and she turned toward Artreus. He was frozen in place, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his chest, his small voice trembling with fear.

"Mom…?"

Abaddon raised his hand, flames gathering in his palm as he prepared to unleash a fire blast. The heat radiating from his magic was suffocating, and Artreus's body shook with terror.

"Artreus!" Hildagard screamed, her voice filled with desperation.

Time seemed to slow as the fire in Abaddon's hand grew brighter, aimed directly at Artreus.

A Mother's Sacrifice

Hildagard struggled to her feet, her body broken and battered. Every breath felt like fire in her lungs, and she clutched her ribs, trying to steady herself. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, but her eyes remained locked on Artreus, wide with fear and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Abaddon loomed over her, his blood-red sword gleaming ominously. "Final warning, Valkyrie," he sneered. "How can you possibly hope to defeat me when your body is already failing you? You are useless. Weak. You stand no chance against me!" His voice thundered, each word a hammer blow.

Hildagard, her knees threatening to give out, glared at him. Her face was a mixture of fear and rage, but her desperation for her son's safety outweighed everything else. Her voice broke as she cried out, "Don't do this, please! I'm begging you… spare my son! I don't have the stone!"

Abaddon laughed, his deep, guttural voice echoing through the ruins of the town. "You have no bargains left, Valkyrie," he said coldly.

Hildagard fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "Please… please… spare my son! Take me instead!" Her voice cracked with anguish. "Do whatever you want to me, but please don't hurt him. I don't know where the stone is! Please… please…"

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Abaddon tilted his head, considering her words. His glowing eyes narrowed as a cruel smile spread across his face.

"Fine," he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "I believe you."

Without warning, a massive fireblast erupted from Abaddon's hand, engulfing Hildagard. The heat and power of the attack sent a shockwave that rippled through the burning streets. Artreus screamed in horror. "MOM!" His voice broke as he ran forward, tears streaming down his face.

When the flames subsided, only a smoldering, charred figure remained. Hildagard's once-radiant Valkyrie armor was blackened, her body reduced to ash. The proud mother and fierce warrior was no more.

Abaddon stepped closer, his blood-red sword gleaming as he raised it high. With a single slash, he cleaved the remains into dust, scattering what was left of her into the wind. "Such fragility, such weakness," he said, his voice cold and detached. "A fitting end for a Valkyrie who dared to defy me… a traitor to her kind."

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The Archdemons Assemble

From the shadows, Nero, Asmodina, and a group of Archdemons emerged. Nero stood perched on a crumbling rooftop, his long cape billowing behind him as he looked down at the scene with an amused smirk.

"My Lord," a figure said, stepping forward—it was Abaddon's advisor, a wiry figure with calculating eyes. "How will you retrieve the stone now, after killing the one who might have known where it is?"

Abaddon turned, his fiery gaze unyielding. "The handmaiden knew nothing. Her desperation made it clear." He sheathed his massive sword, his expression calm and calculating. "There is only one person who knows where the stone is… the God's Chosen Hero. King Arthur."

Nero's gaze shifted to Artreus, still trembling near the ground. His lips curled into a wicked smile. "Poor little lamb…" he purred.

Artreus couldn't move. His body was frozen with terror, his wide eyes fixed on the towering form of Abaddon. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. But as his gaze fell to the ground, he spotted a small blade lying among the debris. His heart raced. A glimmer of hope.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Artreus darted forward, reaching for the weapon. But before his fingers could close around it, Nero landed with a thundering crash in front of him, kicking up a cloud of ash and smoke.

"Hahaha… poor little lamb," Nero sang mockingly, his voice lilting as though he were reciting a nursery rhyme. "Poor little lamb… what will you do now?" He stepped forward, his every movement oozing malice.

Artreus fell to the ground, scrambling desperately toward the blade. He stretched out his hand, but Nero's boot slammed down on it, pinning the blade beneath his heel. The young boy looked up, tears streaming down his face as Nero loomed over him.

Nero leaned closer, his smile sharp and cruel. "Poor little lamb… nah-ah-ah," he teased, wagging his index finger mockingly. "What will you do now? Your shepherd is gone. And soon… you will be too."

Artreus swung his fist with all his might, landing a clean hit on Nero's face. The demon's head barely moved, a mocking grin creeping across his lips as he stood unfazed.

"Fine," Nero sneered, his voice low and venomous. "I'll f**king play with you a little… before I eat you!"

With a casual swipe, Nero's arm crashed into Artreus, sending the boy skidding across the dirt and rubble.

"Don't kill him!" Abaddon's deep voice echoed, commanding and unyielding. "I need the boy alive."

Nero glanced back at his master, the grin never leaving his face. "Yes, master." He turned and strode toward Artreus, who was struggling to stand, his body battered and trembling.

Before Artreus could fully rise, Nero grabbed him by the hair and yanked him up, dangling him like a lifeless puppet.

"Oh, shit," Nero growled, his crimson eyes burning as he brought his face close to Artreus'. "I've always wanted to taste Azrael's spawn. You don't stand a chance, brat. Look around—there's no one coming to save you. After my master takes the stone and kills your brother, we're gonna feast on you. And then? You'll end up just like your bitch of a mother…"

For a moment, Artreus froze, the words cutting through him like a blade. His teeth clenched, and his body trembled—not in fear, but in rage. His burning gaze locked onto Nero's, his hatred consuming him.

Nero smirked. "What's the matter, brat? Don't tell me you're gonna cry—"

Artreus's hands shot out, gripping Nero's forearm with an intensity that made the demon flinch.

"What the—?" Nero growled, but the boy's grip tightened unnaturally.

A guttural growl escaped Artreus's throat as his strength surged. "Aaargh!"

The archdemons watching from the shadows stirred, murmurs of curiosity filling the air.

With a roar of defiance, Artreus twisted Nero's arm with all his might. A sickening crack echoed as the bone snapped, leaving Nero stumbling back in disbelief.

"You… you broke my arm?!" Nero hissed, staring at his limp, twisted limb. Rage twisted his face. "You little—"

Before Nero could retaliate, Abaddon moved with startling speed. His massive hand swatted Nero aside, sending him crashing into a nearby building.

The impact left a crater in the wall as Nero crumpled to the ground.

From the shadows, Asmodina sauntered forward, her lips curling into a mocking smile. "Oh, poor Nero. Broken by a mere child. How utterly embarrassing."

"Shut up!" Nero snarled, his eyes blazing with fury. "I'll tear that brat apart and devour him alive!"

Abaddon stepped forward, his towering figure casting an ominous shadow over Artreus, who now stood panting, his fists clenched and his body trembling with rage and exhaustion.

"Life," Abaddon began, his voice calm yet filled with an unsettling weight, "is full of sorrow and despair. We walk through it blind, never knowing when the darkness will consume us."

Artreus glared up at him, defiance still burning in his eyes.

"Some carry heavier burdens than others," Abaddon continued, his glowing eyes locking onto the boy. "And you, boy, cannot escape your blood."

The words hung heavy in the air, oppressive and suffocating.

"You're alone now, child. Son of Azrael. Your bloodline has doomed you. Your brother, your people... no one can save you from what's coming."

Abaddon gestured to the ruined landscape surrounding them. "The sins of the father always find the son. Look at this destruction, boy. This is your inheritance. This is your destiny."

Artreus's fists clenched tighter as the weight of Abaddon's words bore down on him, yet the fire in his eyes did not waver. Somewhere deep inside, a spark of hope and defiance burned, refusing to be extinguished.

Artreus staggered to his feet, hatred blazing in his eyes as he faced the towering figure of the Demon King, Abaddon.

"How dare you!" Artreus roared, his voice trembling with grief and fury. "HOW DARE YOU KILL MY MOTHER!"

Abaddon chuckled darkly, his massive hand shooting out to grab Artreus by the face. He lifted the boy effortlessly, as if he were no more than a toy.

"I don't like your tone, boy," Abaddon said, his voice dripping with disdain. His glowing red eyes locked onto Artreus's fiery blue gaze. "That hatred… it burns brightly within you. It makes you strong. Oddly… intriguing."

Abaddon's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Yes… the blood of your father, your brother… it will all be useful to me. I'll mold you into my own pet. A warrior of my new world!" His laughter echoed, a sound that seemed to shake the very earth.

Artreus struggled, his voice a rasping growl. "I… will… kill you. I will… have… your… HEAD!"

Abaddon's grin widened, his twisted amusement growing as he watched the boy's defiance. "Such big words for such a small, broken thing," he mused.

But as Artreus's strength faded, his consciousness slipping away, his eyes remained fixed on Abaddon, burning with a promise of vengeance. Even in his weakened state, the fire within him refused to die.

The King is Here

The night sky above Ozamian Town suddenly erupted with a strange and brilliant light. Beams of radiance pierced the darkness, flooding the battlefield with an ethereal glow.

The demons paused, their grotesque feast forgotten. The hellhounds snarled, their attention snapping to the heavens.

A low, guttural growl came from one of the demons. "Something strange…"

Asmodina's purple eyes narrowed, her voice a hushed warning. "They're here…"

From the beams of light, brilliant bridges of energy formed, descending to the ground like divine pathways. The light spread, illuminating the battlefield as more beams appeared throughout the ruined town.

And then, from the largest bridge, a battle cry rang out:

"For Camelot! For the gods that bless us all!"

The Knights of the Round Table emerged, their armor gleaming as if forged from starlight. Lancelot, Tristan, and Percival led the charge, their weapons already slicing through the demonic horde with unparalleled skill and ferocity.

The demons and hellhounds scattered before their onslaught, their once-overwhelming numbers pushed back by the sheer might of the knights.

Abaddon's eyes lit up with excitement as he watched the scene unfold. "The Knights of the Round Table are here," he said, his voice brimming with anticipation. "That means… Arthur Reigns is here!"

His triumphant sneer was short-lived.

In an instant, his massive hand—still holding Artreus—was severed cleanly at the wrist. The dismembered limb fell to the ground, releasing Artreus, who was swept away in a blur of motion.

Abaddon recoiled, shock flashing across his face. His gaze snapped to the figure standing before him, clad in gleaming white armor.

Arthur Reigns.

The legendary leader of the Knights of the Round Table cradled Artreus protectively in one arm, his expression a mix of relief and smoldering fury.

Nero and Abaddon's advisor stood frozen, their eyes wide in disbelief.

Nero muttered under his breath, "Even the master didn't notice… Arthur Reigns."

Abaddon's severed arm began to regrow, black tendrils of demonic energy weaving together to restore the limb. His booming laughter filled the air, resonating with malice and delight.

"Hahahaha… The hero is here! The chosen one! We have finally met, Arthur Reigns!"

Arthur gently set Artreus down, his movements careful and deliberate. Rising to his full height, he stepped forward, drawing his sword. The blade ignited with a radiant light, its brilliance rivaling the very beams that had summoned the knights.

Arthur's voice was calm, but it carried a deadly edge. "Abaddon… you will regret what you did to my home. To my brother. I'll tear you apart… into a million pieces."

The battlefield fell silent, the tension rising as two titans prepared to clash.