Dante looked up and froze. Hovering above was a thin man wearing a violet-and-gold cloth cuirass. His appearance was both noble and messy. His long, golden hair was tied back carelessly, and his cold blue eyes carried the air of someone who had seen everything and cared about none of it. A rough beard covered his jaw, adding to the look of someone who clearly couldn’t be bothered. He yawned lazily, looking as though he’d just woken up.

Leon’s hopelessness vanished the moment he heard the man’s voice. He looked up, his face lighting up with relief. “Arthur! You’re finally here!”

Aelric, though still on edge, allowed a small breath of relief to escape. “Guardian, please be careful. This Dark Beast is anything but normal,” he said, his tone sharp but steadier now.

“He’s right,” Velanna added, brushing dirt from her armor. Her voice was serious as she continued. “It’s immune to holy flames and light attacks. The three of us together couldn’t bring it down.”

Arthur, the Guardian of Ashveil and the prison’s chosen Envoy, rolled his shoulders lazily. For a moment, his usual laid-back attitude gave way to something sharper as he examined the Spawn of the Black Goat. His lips tightened slightly, and his gaze grew intense.

But the moment passed quickly. Arthur glanced around, taking in the Armed Sentinels, Dante, and the unconscious Billy. In just seconds, he seemed to have sized up the situation. He turned toward the Sentinels.

“Hey, you three,” he said, his voice still carrying that infuriatingly lazy tone. “Get that prisoner and the kid out of here. I’d rather not explain to the warden why you all ended up as scrap.”

The lead Sentinel nodded, its mechanical voice crackling. “Understood. We will extract them immediately.”

Its glowing eyes flickered briefly, as though receiving an update. After a pause, it spoke again. “New directive from the prison. Retrieve the core of the unidentified lifeform. Minimum requirement: a sample of its flesh or blood.”

Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes in dramatic annoyance. “Of course. They just had to give me homework. Fine, I’ll deal with it.”

The Sentinels moved toward Dante and Billy without delay. But the Spawn wasn’t about to let them escape. Its twisted body jerked, and it turned its hollow gaze toward the group. The air thickened as its malice grew almost unbearable.

Arthur stepped forward, his grin returning as he addressed the creature. “Hey, ugly. Look at me. Unless you want to die without even realizing what hit you.”

The Spawn hesitated. Its empty eyes flicked between Dante and Arthur, as though deciding. On one hand, it burned with the desire to kill Dante. On the other, the overwhelming sense of danger emanating from Arthur couldn’t be ignored. In the end, its survival instincts won. It turned its full focus to Arthur.

Arthur smirked. “Smart choice.” He glanced back at the others. “You lot, get out of here. Leave this mess to me.”

“Understood!” Leon, Velanna, and Aelric responded as one. They quickly mounted their flying beasts. Leon secured Billy on Montas, ensuring he was steady before urging the creature into flight. Dante, his hands shaking, climbed onto Velanna’s steed.

The Armed Sentinels moved as one, ascending on a massive, armored flying beast with wide wings and metallic plating that shimmered faintly in the dim light. The beast’s heavy wingbeats filled the air as it followed the others with precise, measured movements.

Left behind on the battlefield, only Arthur and the Spawn remained. The ruined landscape was deathly quiet, save for the faint crackling of embers. The two stared at each other, neither making the first move.

The Spawn, usually wild and unpredictable, stood unnaturally still. Its hollow eyes studied Arthur, and its warped body twitched as though uncertain. Meanwhile, Arthur gave away nothing. His casual stance remained unchanged, his faint smirk unwavering.

The creature’s hesitation seemed to unsettle it, its twisted limbs writhing in irritation as if it were experiencing something unfamiliar: unease.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening just enough to look even more dangerous. “Oh? Starting to figure it out, are you?” he said with a low chuckle, shaking his head slowly. “Too late for that. Orders from above. Today’s not your day, beast. You’re not getting out of here alive.”

As he spoke, an almost imperceptible force began radiating from him. Though invisible, the weight in the air grew palpable, pressing against the senses. Even the faint embers scattered across the ground seemed to dim and flicker, as though bowing to the presence before them.

The Spawn, however, showed no sign of intimidation. Instead, it let loose an unearthly screech, its distorted, guttural cry slicing through the tense silence. Its warped form writhed violently, shifting as if bracing itself to attack.

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Meanwhile, high above, Dante clung tightly to the reins of Velanna’s flying beast. His hands were pale from the effort, his grip unyielding as the wind rushed past. Behind him, Billy remained slumped against Leon on Montas, his stillness unnerving. Leon, flying slightly ahead, threw a quick glance back to ensure everyone was in formation. His jaw was set, his expression grim and determined.

The Sentinels, aboard their colossal flying mount, were unwavering. Their towering, metallic forms stood silent and still, their glowing visors fixed on the horizon. Despite the raging chaos behind them, their mechanical demeanor betrayed no reaction.

Just as Dante dared to feel relief, a deafening roar erupted from the battlefield. Instinctively, he turned back—and froze.

Where Arthur and the Spawn had clashed, a vortex of light and shadow now roared into existence. It churned violently, an impossible storm where reality itself seemed to fray at the edges. This wasn’t merely a fight—it was a collision of forces beyond comprehension. The energy radiating from the maelstrom pulsed outward, sending tremors rippling through the air. Even from this distance, Dante could feel its oppressive power, like a hand pressing on his chest.

The Spawn’s horrifying screeches continued, warped and echoing as they fought against the sheer noise of Arthur’s attacks. The flashes of energy—brilliant bursts of gold and sickening swirls of black—lit up the horizon, painting the sky in otherworldly hues. It was chaos incarnate, a battle on a scale Dante had never imagined.

His curiosity burned, but a deeper fear rooted him in place. Tightening his grip on the reins, he forced his gaze away from the distant chaos. For the first time, Dante truly understood what power was—not a mere display of might or a symbol of glory, but the raw, unyielding strength required to survive. Deep within his soul, an unfamiliar longing took root—a yearning to possess that kind of power. Not for pride, not to command respect, but simply to ensure he could live through the storms that threatened to consume him.

As the flying beasts pressed onward, leaving behind the broken battlefield—and the chaos that raged between Arthur and the unstoppable Spawn.

The sun hung low over the Beastkeepers' camp, painting the horizon with deep streaks of orange and crimson. Inside Leon’s modest quarters, Billy lay unconscious on the narrow bed, his pale face betraying the severity of his recent ordeal. Thankfully, the boy’s life was no longer in danger, but Leon remained seated at his bedside, his expression dark with worry.

The silence was broken by a sudden shift in the air. A figure descended from the sky, his violet-and-gold cloak billowing lazily in the evening breeze. Arthur had returned. In his hand, he held something grotesque—a pulsating black mass, its surface slick and unnerving.

The Armed Sentinel Captain, who had been waiting patiently nearby, stepped forward as Arthur landed. Its monotone voice cut through the stillness. “You’ve returned, Envoy Prisoner, Arthur.”

Arthur flashed a lazy grin, his golden hair catching the dim light. “Of course I did. What, you thought I’d let some overgrown goat take me out?” His tone was light, almost teasing. But then his expression darkened, and he added grimly, “Didn’t manage to kill the damn thing, though. It got away.”

He held up the black mass, its surface glistening sickeningly. “But I did rip out a piece of its core. That should count for something, right?”

The Sentinel Captain nodded and reached into its chest compartment, withdrawing a peculiar, rune-inscribed container. With mechanical precision, it accepted the black mass and sealed it inside. “Your contribution will be rewarded. I will report this to my superiors.”

Arthur let out a sharp laugh, his grin widening as he gave the Sentinel a mock salute. “Report it? Don’t be ridiculous. They’ve been watching through your creepy camera eyes this whole time, haven’t they?”

As if to emphasize his point, Arthur leaned in and waved at the Sentinel’s glowing optics, a devilish smirk on his face. “Hey there, Big Boss. Hope you’re enjoying the show.”

The Sentinel didn’t react, but its cold, metallic voice carried a faint edge as it replied. “My superiors recommend you return to the prison immediately for treatment. The injuries you sustained are… abnormal.”

Arthur glanced down at his body, where the edges of blackened wounds seeped with an ominous fluid. His grin faltered for a moment before he nodded in reluctant agreement. “Yeah, no arguments here. This stuff’s nasty—can’t seem to clean it off.” He sighed, his voice taking on a note of weary humor. “Guess it’s about time I head back anyway. Haven’t seen the old gang in a while.”

He turned, giving a half-hearted wave as he started to walk away. “Assuming any of them are still alive, that is.”

Meanwhile, under the quiet shelter of a small pavilion, Dante sat alone. His hands clenched tightly, his face a mask of inner turmoil. His usual restless energy was gone, replaced by an unnerving stillness.

“I’m so weak…” he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with bitterness. “Weaker than an ant.”

Suddenly, his fist slammed into the stone table in front of him with a sharp crack. “No! I’m worse than an ant!”

The impact left a visible crack at the base of the table, but Dante didn’t notice. His mind was consumed by the memories of his helplessness in the face of the Black Goat Spawn. The sheer terror and powerlessness he’d felt were etched into his soul, and for the first time, he truly understood how insignificant he was in the grand scheme of things.

Not far away, Kunis stood watching him, her expression torn. She wanted to offer him comfort, but something held her back. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned to leave, only to come face to face with Arthur.

Arthur raised a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to remain silent. Kunis nodded, her brows furrowed in concern as she quietly stepped away.

Arthur approached the pavilion, his footsteps light, and his voice broke the silence with a casual drawl. “Prisoner Dante. So, this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Dante snapped out of his thoughts and quickly stood, his expression a mixture of surprise and respect. “Guardian Arthur. I… I didn’t realize you were here.”

Arthur waved a dismissive hand, dropping into the seat across from Dante with a lazy grin. “Relax, kid. No need for formalities.” He leaned back, his icy blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “After all, we’re both from Earth.”

The words hit Dante like a bolt of lightning. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly in shock. “You… you’re from Earth too?”

Arthur chuckled, his lazy grin spreading wider. “That’s right,” he said casually, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Sit down. Let’s have a proper talk. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen another Earthling.”