"More, more, more!" Greed chanted, his voice maddening and reverberating through the room with an insatiable hunger. Lilithra could feel her strength slipping away, little by little. He was claiming it all. Her stats, her levels, even her own unique skill—everything that made her who she was.

Her body trembled as she struggled under his grip, her mind racing with various thoughts as a crushing sense of weakness overtook her. A whirlwind of emotions spun uncontrollably within her, a mix of fear, despair, and frustration—each feeling intensifying with every moment she remained in his grasp.

All her efforts, the pain she had endured, the battles she had fought, and her hard-earned feats, as few as they were—they were all cherished memories and proof of her growth, of her journey. And they were all being erased as the masked man claimed them for himself. She could even feel his own power growing at her expense, which added salt to the wound.

But amidst all of that, two specific losses hurt the most.

Her unique skill, what she thought was her most precious achievement—the ability she had gained due to her pure, burning desire to help others. Tears started to roll down her face, wishing with all her heart that Greed’s skill wouldn’t activate permanently.

And the other thing that gnawed at her, was her training with Ascalon and Selorien. The days she had spent preparing to fight Rosco. The hours spent increasing her stats and levels, attaining mastery over her weapon. And all the battle knowledge she had learned thanks to the knight’s guidance—everything was threatened by the masked man’s existence.

She cursed at Greed in her mind, her increasing feebleness forcing her to stop struggling—yet, even if her body had given up, her spirit raged; her yellow, beady eyes burning with intense hatred.

But unbeknownst to the girl, as things were being taken away from her, something else was slowly being drawn out, from the deepest, abyssal parts of her soul. Even if it was barely manifested and imperceptible, Greed had set into motion a life-changing event for Lilithra—an awakening that would one day send ripples across the whole world.

Though that day had yet to come.

At the height of despair, Ascalon moved. His figure blinked through the air, his force now unrestrained. No one could react—no one but the real Greed, who watched from afar, his mouth agape under his mask. “Just who is that man…?” He muttered to himself, witnessing Ascalon’s feat of inhuman, terrifying speed.

As he surged through a finite fraction of time, Ascalon drew his arm back, preparing Exemplaris for a thrust. His actions were guided by unbridled fury, his sole desire to vanquish the demon before him—though the stirring of his emblem sent a soothing warmth through his body, stopping him from being fully consumed by the anger.

With a resounding boom, Ascalon pierced forward, the tip of his lance decimating the Greed that was holding Lilithra faster than one can blink. The resulting shockwave made the whole dungeon tremble, causing everyone to lose their footing. Pillars, wall bricks, and chunks of the ceiling crashed violently around them—enormous stone slabs torn loose by the force of Ascalon’s attack.

Realizing the aftermath of his wake, he snapped back to his senses. At the same time he gently cradled Lilithra before she had time to touch the ground. “Lilithra!” He exclaimed, holding her close, a relieved smile appearing on her face. “Ascalon…” She whispered in a weak voice, probably too trained to say more.

Ascalon grimaced, and carefully placed her on the ground. She had no visible wounds other than a bruise on her neck, but what about the damage he could not perceive? Her tears were a testament to her inner struggle, and the sight almost made him forget, once again, that he had to remain calm. It was a blessing that his amulet was soothing him so—a mystery he would dare not dwell upon at the moment.

The knight turned around to assess the situation. Lyra and Levi were at Lilithra’s side, both hurt but conscious. Escarlata had taken advantage of the abruptness of Ascalon’s attack to defeat one of Greed’s clones, and was now almost evenly matched with the other.

Selorien was backed into a wall, leaning onto it as he heaved, his face twisted in a maddened smile that made Ascalon do a double take. Was that really Selorien? What kind of thoughts were racing through his mind? As the knight wondered about that, he caught a shadow moving in the corner of his eye, and rage built up once more.

Another Greed was skulking nearby, clearly aiming for Ascalon’s weakened friends. “You filth!” Ascalon's voice boomed, the whole room recoiling at his display of anger. In the next moment, he let go of his shield and vanished with a swift leap, grabbing the incoming Greed by the head and hurling him through the air to the farthest wall in the room.

The clone didn’t even get to collide with said wall—the force of the throw was such that the mere friction with the air made him disintegrate. The real Greed gasped in astonishment, his whole body shivering at the perplexing sight.

Greed had never imagined that someone like that would show up—a person so strong that even he, despite all his days of uninterrupted leveling, had no hope of matching in a one-on-one. “He was holding back, then?” Greed whispered to himself, a half-smile forming beneath his mask.

Seeing the destruction in Ascalon’s wake, Greed understood why the knight had restrained his power. The masked one’s smile twisted with maliciousness, as his mind concocted a most advantageous plan. Suddenly, Greed’s body split again, multiple copies of him scattering through the room, their laughter echoing with confidence and amusement.

Both Ascalon and Escarlata were caught with surprise—the latter feeling a creeping sense of dread amidst her shock. She knew her skills inside and out, having engrained them to memory in order to use them as swiftly and deftly as she could—and she knew full well that the cooldown hadn’t finished yet.

That could mean many things; like Greed having better mastery over the skill, a higher level, or even a passive ability to shorten the skill’s reutilization. Whatever the case, she knew that he had claimed it for himself, twisting it with his hideous energy, and she couldn’t help but feel utterly ashamed.

The scene before her was one of hopelessness, as she realized that she had no chance of winning her bout. She was barely keeping up with one clone, and now a new batch of them had manifested in the room. As Escarlata swung her blades at the Greed she had been dueling, she shot a side-glance toward the knight. In her mind, Ascalon was the only one that could turn the situation around—and even then, she had trouble figuring out how.

Ascalon himself felt a growing sense of urgency as he kept track of the clones. He had realized just how much strain he was putting on the whole dungeon every time he exercised his might, and it was mere luck that the chunks of ceiling falling down hadn’t crushed any of his friends—yet. He had to keep calm and figure out the situation. He clutched his pocket, seeking solace in the warmth spreading from his emblem, his mind racing to form a strategy. But Greed wasn’t going to simply wait for him; his plan had already been set into motion.

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Ascalon’s eye widened with a mix of fear and anger as he saw the clones darting once more toward his friends—none of them were aiming at him. Clenching his fist and gritting his teeth in frustration, he quickly moved to aid Lilithra and the others. “You treacherous wretch!” Ascalon shouted as he swiftly raced toward his friends, arriving at their side before the clones could. But by doing so, he was playing right into Greed’s hands. The clones swarmed him, and one by one, began to split into multiple copies once more.

With urgency guiding his actions, Ascalon unleashed a barrage of thrusting strikes with his lance, though his power was restrained to avoid harming his close-by friends. He realized that Greed had guided him into an unfavorable position, and felt cornered.

He could break through, and move the battle elsewhere, but in doing so he would leave Lilithra and the rest at the mercy of the clones—and he knew Greed was going to take full advantage of that. Ascalon had to commend Greed’s cunning stratagem, even if he was a foul devil. Amidst his thoughts, he could feel some of the clones grasping at him, and his body glowed every time they did. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what they were taking from him, but they were surely and steadily chipping away at his might.

At the same time, he could hear another yelp coming from the maid. While shaking off some of his enemies and without stopping his piercing barrage, Ascalon shot a glance at Escarlata. A multitude of Greed’s clones had her pinned down, their hands groping her body in a most lecherous manner.

Her form glowed with an incandescent green, her very existence seemingly being drained away. “Yes, yes!” The real Greed exclaimed from the distance, laughing and rejoicing along his clones. At the sight, Ascalon felt a deep sense of helplessness. His instincts screamed at him to go and save her, but his mind forced him to stay focused on protecting his friends.

It was then that Escarlata’s body became a shadowy blur, and Ascalon feared the worst. Had they consumed her whole? His mind raced at the terrifying thought, just as another shadow gave form to Selorien in her place. “Ugh!” The elf groaned, as Greed’s clones halted their groping in confusion.

“Selorien!” Ascalon shouted with a mix of relief and concern—as he was glad Escarlata had been saved—for the time being— but also worried about Selorien’s predicament. “Escarlata, get the hell out of here!” The elf’s voice roared with an intensity quite unlike him, his expression showing a bold, somewhat deranged smile.

Ascalon kept the clones at bay as he scanned the room for Escarlata’s aura. There, away from the majority of the clones, the maid struggled against a wall as her form melted with the shadows, her presence quickly vanishing. She must have used some sort of retreating skill.

A relieved sigh escaped Ascalon’s lips, thinking that now he had one less person to worry about. Conflicted feelings surged as he battled the wave of seemingly unending Greeds. Their laughter rattled his composure, but they weren’t causing any physical damage, clearly focused on sapping away his strength. He just had to figure out how to aid Selorien without neglecting the rest, and everything would be fine—or that’s what he thought, at least.

As if answering his plea, a feeble voice could be heard from nearby. The sound of running water reached the knight’s ears, and he turned slightly just in time to see a translucent sphere shaping up around his friends.

“Lyra!” Ascalon gasped with concern, knowing the cat girl was straining herself way beyond her limits. He could barely feel her weak aura from within the dome, and smiled with admiration at her powerful conviction. He could not let her actions go in vain! She showed him that even now, they were still fighting, and he had to answer their trust!

“Please, hold on, Lyra.” Ascalon pleaded, a moment before his figure shot past the wave of Greed’s clones. His powerful charge cleaved through the room with relentless force, the clones being blown away and obliterated in his path. The ground trembled with each of his steps, and Ascalon clenched his teeth as he struggled to keep a good balance between restraining himself and unleashing his might.

The real Greed clicked his tongue in annoyance at the sight, but felt his confidence growing with each passing moment. He had a connection with his clones, and every time they touched someone, he was the one that absorbed what was stolen. He thought that soon, he would be able to face the blonde warrior on even grounds! Especially when he could keep spewing out clones at will… though, he lamented that the ‘stolen’ skill was going to expire sooner or later.

Meanwhile, Ascalon reached for Selorien and pried him away from the Greeds that surrounded him, delivering a swift and precise thrust to each one and vanquishing them mercilessly. “Selorien, how are you faring?!” Ascalon asked with urgency, seeing the weakened elf struggling to breathe.

Selorien, barely able to speak, pushed the knight away with all of his remaining strength, his actions confusing Ascalon. “Let… let me be! I need… I need that experience!” The elf complained, his words bordering nonsense. “What?” Ascalon asked aloud, perplexed by his friend’s strange behavior. Then, as if on cue, every Greed in the room burst into laughter. Ascalon scanned his surroundings, realizing they seemed to be hiding something—a weird sense of unease gnawing at him.

“Leave the young master to me!” A sudden voice cut through the laughter, as Escarlata manifested from the darkness in front of Ascalon, taking him by surprise. Not only did she look healthier and more composed, but her presence had regained much of her imposing strength. The knight wondered if she had any kind of self-healing skill, or perhaps some revitalizing potion—but that wasn’t important at the moment.

Without hesitation, Ascalon pushed the elf toward the maid, paying no heed to his incoherent complaints. Escarlata seized him from behind, and in a matter of seconds, melted back into the shadows with him. Ascalon felt a surge of hope erupting from within, as he quickly turned his full attention to Lyra’s location.

Relief washed over him as he saw the sphere still intact, some of the clones trying to push their hands inside to no avail. As the realization hit him, Greed spat out a multitude of new clones, their ominous masks slithering through the room as they dashed toward the sphere.

“Prepare yourself.” Ascalon’s voice boomed with authority, causing every single Greed to flinch and turn toward him. With his concerns partly alleviated, Ascalon lunged, unshackled, at who he knew was the real Greed,. Feeling the impending danger, the masked man recalled his troops in a hurry, recognizing that the situation had turned around.

The wave of Greeds surrounded Ascalon, knowing full well that they were going to be decimated by his relentless advance—but they had but one job: to try and sap as much of his power as they could before their inevitable destruction. The seat of Greed smiled with satisfaction beneath his mask, as he felt a surge of power each time one of his other versions touched Ascalon.

Ascalon, unbothered by their stratagem, charged toward Greed while thrusting his lance forward, the powerful piercing attack being propelled by an uncanny momentum. In his mind, he pleaded that the dungeon could withstand this level of might, as his strike connected with a thunderous boom.

A cloud of dust and debris floated around what Ascalon thought was Greed’s place of demise—but he was entirely wrong. Even before the fog dissipated, Ascalon could feel something stuck to Exemplaris.

“Oh?” He muttered, somewhat impressed at the sight, as he saw a multitude of clones between him and the real Greed. Some were impaled and slowly vanished, while others clung tightly to the lance—some were even forming some kind of human ‘chain’ by pulling on each other.

They had all united in strength, cushioning the attack and stripping it of its momentum slowly but steadily. It was indeed a stunning display of ability, especially considering Greed had only just acquired the skill.

In the aftermath, and at mere inches from the tip of the spear, stood Greed, his arms crossed in a clear display of boldness.