Liam stared at Kafka's still body. Despite the blood he had just coughed up, Liam's opponent was still breathing. That was unfortunate. And so, Liam clenched his jaw and moved towards him.

"Earlier..." Liam spoke, his throat dry, his voice raspy. "You said I was inferior to you, right?"

During their battle, Liam had broken a few bones. His shattered forearm swung to the side as he walked, just as he had to drag his crushed ankle across the ground.

"Remind me... What the hell even caused our fight?" Liam asked, grabbing Kafka by his bloodied shirt and raising him from the ground.

Kafka slowly began opening his eyes. "You..."

"Oh, right," Liam said, a thin smile creeping onto his lips. "You started this. You're a joke, y'know."

Liam continued. "All that talk, all that magic, and now look. You lost, just because some kid got serious. Because some 'inferior being' got serious." And from there, his smile widened, just as his voice grew louder. "I bet you feel sorry for yourself! How does it feel?! How does it feel to be such a massive failure?!" he shouted.

He let go of Kafka's limp, broken body. Kafka crashed down onto the ground once again, coughing from the impact.

"Oh, well," Liam muttered. He turned away. 'I need to get going,' he reminded himself, forcing himself to disregard the mounting pain he was enduring. And with that thought, he smiled to himself again, still walking through the forest.

'How the hell does Alexander endure this pain all the time?' he asked himself.

Kafka cleared his throat, just as Liam was a few meters away.

"Liam Bernard!" he called. The sound of cracking and clunking echoed. "That's your name. Right?"

Liam slowly turned to see Kafka standing upright. 'Of fucking course,' Liam thought. The soul has control over the body, as he said. So if the bastard has control over the soul, he can't be injured regularly.

"Why can't you see it, Liam Bernard?!" Kafka shouted. "You and me... We're the same!"

Liam spat out a sigh. Kafka brought up the same revolting topic once again. "We're not the same, asshole."

"Yes, we are. We're brothers of the soul."

"We're not."

"I mean this in a literal sense!" he cried out. "You and me... are brothers! Connected by our very souls! How elegant! It's perfect! Perfect, I tell you!" he screeched, saliva spewing from his mouth as he spoke, gripping the side of his chest in anguish.

His arms began to glow with the slight orange hue of his magic energy. "Call me your brother again and your head's coming off," Liam said, his hands enlarging and growing with claws once again, even from his crushed forearm.

"But it's true, Liam Bernard! I felt it with your very attack! With your very energy!"

Liam took a labored step forward, wincing as he pivoted on his crushed foot. "That's it," he said, gritting his teeth.

It was then that a black circle appeared behind Kafka.

A man clad in a black uniform passed through, his head drooped over and his hands dug into his pockets. He had pale skin and hair as dark as his clothing. Liam guessed he was no more than 25 years old. Even so, he already knew of this man. He knew of his power. This man... was the Titan of Space. Atlas.

As Atlas ruffled his shaggy black hair, he smiled and began to look up. And as he looked up, his eyes met Liam's. For a second, they glistened with a blood-orange glow.

"Nice to see you again, Liam Bernard," Atlas said.

Liam grit his teeth. The same magic that had separated the Virtues the day before was brimming from this man.

And as much as Liam wanted to attack, every cell in his body screamed out at him not to. Consciously and subconsciously, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance. At the very least, not now.

Kafka's eyes widened as he turned to Atlas. Atlas stood a head taller than him, even with his slightly arched back. His obsidian eyes turned to him and glared.

Kafka swallowed his saliva in fear. He couldn't move anything below his head. Couldn't budge a single inch. This was his magic. Spatial magic, for that matter. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth in anticipation of whatever attack may come at him.

Instead, Atlas' smile simply widened. He grabbed Kafka by his neck and spoke to him. "Hello, Kafka. I would say it's nice to meet you, but it's not. Still, orders are orders."

"What are you-"

Atlas took a single step back. "You're coming with me. Well... Us."

"You can't do this!" Kafka cried.

"Relax, you'll live. You're useful for us, Kafka Wolfram." Atlas' smile faded as he once again stared at him. "Or would you rather stay here? At the mercy of dozens of Hunters that you've wronged? I don't think you'll survive that, personally."

Kafka swallowed his dry saliva and nodded.

"Wow, no concern for your brothers?" Atlas asked. "You're a cruel man, Kafka Wolfram. Maybe I will like you, after all."

He finally looked up and stared at Liam. "Well... Guess this is goodbye. For now."

And with that, Atlas stepped back into the Connection, along with Kafka. It shut with a ripple of darkness and magic. And that was that.

Liam spat out a sigh. "If I didn't have to move with these shattered bones..." he muttered to himself as he stared up at the sky. "Could I have won?"

He took in a sharp breath and shook his head. "No. He'd've killed me in an instant. Get moving, Bernard."

- - - - -

Morgana's eyes were wide and trembling, welling up with tears at the simple sight of Alexander Lane. Plumes of dust rose from the already-cracked ground as Alexander shook with each of his breaths.

His panting was heavy while he stared at the ground. His fists were clenched and steaming with the release of dense magic energy.

Even so, Morgana wasn't focused on his clenched fists. Morgana wasn't focused on the blood that soaked his fingers. She was focused on him.

Morgana swallowed her dry saliva.

Alexander slowly turned his head to her. "Morgana!" he shouted, still panting, beginning to turn to them. "Giovanna! You guys okay?"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

It was then that he suddenly appeared before them. Giovanna's eyes widened. 'Fast.' Way too fast. Far quicker than Alexander had ever moved before.

Morgana nodded, a thin smile beginning to spread across her lips.

Alexander had finally noticed the blood on Morgana's cheek. Just minutes ago when he patted her head, his own blood had gotten onto her face. He crouched down to her level and wiped the blood off with his sleeve. Even then, Morgana smiled at him.

After all, his concern for her overcame his fear of blood. The fact that it was his own blood didn't mean anything right now. All that mattered was that they were okay. He... He protected them.

That was enough for him. And that was enough for her, too. To see that young man, shining so brightly, glowing with dense energy and the fervent zeal to protect.

Morgana nodded as her eyes met Alexander's.

They were both Demon-Borns. And yet... And yet, Alexander fought for her.

Alexander drowned out all of his pain and forced a smile onto his face. His pain didn't matter now. They... All of them... were safe.

"You... You protected me..." she mumbled, her voice already confused and yet still smiling.

"Of course I did. I promised you, didn't I?" Alexander asked, his crooked grin still spread across his face.

Morgana swallowed her saliva and stumbled as she took a single step forward. She wrapped her arms around Alexander and shut her eyes, still brimming within her own joy.

Just as Hjálmarr and Giovanna rushed towards them, Alexander's smile became genuine. He held Morgana's head with one hand. His other arm remained swaying. The recoiling force of White Light still reverberated through his arm and his chest.

Alexander continued to speak. "I promised I'd protect you," the Demon-Born said. "No matter what... I'll protect you. I'll... I'll keep you safe."

"Thank you," she uttered, her eyes still shut.

But that feeling lasted only a second, only a moment. It only lasted until Eve staggered through the forest once again. "Alexander Lane..." the Titan muttered.

Blood dripped from her nose. It spilled from her cracked teeth and gushed from the side of her forehead. She limped forward, not even managing to stand upright. Her crushed arm swayed and crackled with each of her bent steps.

She repeated. "Alexander Lane... I will kill you!"

Alexander swallowed his dry saliva. His hand touched the ground. He dragged his fingers through the coarse dirt to find his sword. He was barely able to wrap his fingers around it before a thin circle appeared at their side.

Just a couple of meters to Eve's right, just a few feet before her stood a ring of darkness.

"...Oh, am I interrupting something?"

Atlas swallowed his saliva in his confusion. "...Sorry," he mumbled. "But, uh... You're gonna have to stop right here."

Alexander shot up from the ground, his eyes widened in shock. More blood leaked through his mouth, dripping onto the ground as clenched his fists.

Another Titan.

Again, Atlas interrupted. "Alright, Eve. Let's go."

Her face remained twisted in anger. But this time, her gaze left Alexander and turned to her fellow titan. "No," she said plainly. Her rage couldn't be hidden from anyone. "I'm not leaving until I kill this boy. And not just him. But all of them. All of them who meddled-"

"Nope," Atlas said. "Sorry. But, uh- We gotta go. Just letting you know," he said, turning to the glowing black Connection at his side. The same exact Connection they saw in the cave as they battled Arnhild Norr.

Again, Eve grit her teeth in anger. "I told you, I'm not leaving. He..." she said, pointing a single finger at Alexander. "He killed Lilith!" she shouted.

Alexander clenched his jaw.

"I..." Eve spoke between her tearful breaths. "I have to kill him. Right here and now!" she cried, pounding her fist into her chest.

Atlas stared with the same expressionless face. "Y'know... If you kill him, you'd be doing us all a favor. A Demon-Born like him... will only become more dangerous. But that doesn't matter right now. Chances are, his body will give up in just a couple of minutes. And right now, minutes are exactly what we need."

He continued, turning to face Alexander. Their eyes quickly met as Atlas once again spoke. "Leave him. Arnold needs us. And I doubt he'll find it permissible for you to neglect orders for a teenage boy. He'll die on his own. Come."

Still staring at Alexander, Atlas extended his arm behind him, his hand towards Eve.

Eve's emerald eyes remained glossy with tears. "Atlas... I'm going to say this once. Get out of my way." She clenched her fist. "I don't give a shit about what Arnold says. This kid... I'm going to kill him. Even if I have to get through you to do it."

Finally, Atlas' expression changed. His eyes lit up as a thin smile crept onto his lips. "Rosengarten... You have no idea how this is going to turn out, do you?" the Titan asked. "You have your orders and I have mine. Walk through the Connection."

Eve's breaths grew labored. "No!" she shouted. "This isn't the time for this! Lilith's dead! I have to-"

Atlas glared at Eve with blood-orange eyes. "I said... We're leaving."

He snapped his fingers and they all disappeared within a ripple of darkness.

Alexander swallowed his dry saliva. Atlas was the one. A High-Grade magician that always interfered, that always meddled with the Virtues. He was the one to create the Demon's World. He transported them to the Golden Dawn. And he separated them across the realm.

Alexander grit his teeth in fury just as Hjálmarr fell to his knees. His lip was whimpering, his eyes trembling. All he could do was stare outward. That black-haired man. The Titan of Space. Just his presence was enough to immobilize Hjálmarr. Demon-Born or not, that man was on a separate plane of power.

That was the same feeling each of the Virtues experienced with his presence. It's possible, no, likely that Charles Archibald was more powerful than the titan. But that prospect didn't change what they had felt. The overwhelming evil and malice all taking root within the magic of being of darkness.

Nevertheless, that same image was instilled into many minds by Alexander. Not a being of evil, but still a demon. Still, that dark sight hadn't fazed Morgana in the slightest. She still held onto Alexander and nothing else.

Alexander looked down to Morgana. He spat out a sigh and smiled.

He took in another breath and stepped back from Morgana. She stared at him, now confused, her eyebrows furrowing as he took another step back.

"I promised," he mumbled to himself. "No matter what," he repeated, before shutting his eyes and collapsing to his knees. The next sound to be heard was a dull thud as Alexander's body hit the ground.

- - - - -

Arnold Norr was laughing. That chortled giggling of his reverberated throughout the stone-brick room.

What he was laughing at... was a brown-haired woman. Diane Eisenberg. She sat on the dirt floor. Her head was drooping over as a stain of deep crimson seeped through her clothing. The source of that bloodied wound was a golden blade that pierced through her chest and onto the concrete wall.

"You're really a Paladin?!" Arnold asked, still laughing. Eisenberg grit her teeth and slowly raised her head. She finally met Arnold's eyes. For the entirety of their clash, Arnold's golden gaze had avoided her. And now, all she could do was stare. With each of her breaths, her strength faded more and more. With each drop of blood that escaped her body, she inched closer to the touch of death.

Arnold continued speaking. "But you're so weak?! You're really too weak to be a Paladin! Nothing at all like Charles Archibald!" he taunted. His pale hand reached out and grabbed the hilt of the blade that had impaled her chest. His eyes were still twisting with manic glee as he barely held back his laughter.

"Truly... It's a shame. It truly is. A shame that someone as beautiful as you had to die," he said, wiggling the blade in her torso. "Oh, well."

With a sharp breath, he smiled once again. And as soon as he pulled himself back, his laughing resumed. "Do you even understand how hilarious this is to me?!" he cackled. "You're literally skewered right through your stomach!"

Eisenberg coughed and blood spewed through.

Arnold crouched down to her and grabbed her by her hair. "It's not polite to interrupt people," he said, his voice now stern, his eyes now stale.

A thin smile began to spread across her cracked, bloodied lips. "You won't win," she muttered, mustering any and all strength she had left. Once again, her amber eyes met Arnold's. Once again, her amber eyes shone and glistened with defiance.

"Archibald... Or someone else... Someone will bring this whole thing down."

Arnold's pale teeth flashed as he smiled again. "Defiant to the very end, huh?" He nodded his head ever so slightly. "That's what I absolutely adore about humans. They always have hope. They always have a way to stay willful and determined."

He continued. "But the face they make when you shatter that hope..." Arnold let out a hearty sigh. "Oh, it's just beautiful! Honestly!"

Diane remained silent. Even as blood dripped down her chin, even as the gargantuan pain burned into her body, even as the very creep of death grew closer, she remained silent. She remained still, and only stared at Arnold Norr.

"Hmph," he muttered. "You probably have less than a minute to live. I can heal you, though. Now then, start begging. Beg for your life, the same way everyone else does," Arnold said, his eyes glaring.

"They're all like, 'Oh please! I have a child! I'm married! I have a family!' It's pathetic. But you're different, aren't you? It's not that you're weak. It's simply that... I'm far stronger."

Diane remained silent. Again, she began to smile. And with that, her head drooped over. For the final time, she let out a breath.

"...Dead already, huh?" Arnold mumbled, still glaring down at the human. He spat out a sigh and wiped his bloodied hands onto his black pants.

"Arnold," Hector called, knocking on the stone wall. "The Crystal."

"Right," he responded, turning to his nephew. "I take it the Virtues have begun their passage towards it? This game just got a whole lot more exciting."

Hector smiled and nodded. He tossed him his trenchcoat. Pure white, not even bearing the insignia of the Golden Dawn.

As Arnold caught it, he smiled. He swung it on over his black shirt, his smile widening as he moved forward. And with that, he spoke his orders. "Let's go."