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Raynare pressed her thumb against her teeth, rage etched across her features. At the altar of the old church, she had already been waiting for some time for Mittelt's arrival.
The ritual had to begin soon, and with every passing minute her frustration grew. Gathering so many lost Exorcists had not been an easy task, and this was an opportunity she couldn't afford to lose.
The ritual had to happen, and it had to be tonight.
"Uuuhhh… I'm so bored."
While Raynare seethed in frustration and anticipation, Freed lay stretched out on one of the large pews, letting out a long yawn before speaking in a flat, monotonous tone.
The gesture did nothing to ease Raynare's temper. She turned on him with a scowl, conjuring a spear of light in her hand.
"I could just—"
Bam!
The spear obliterated the pew where Freed had been moments earlier. He dodged at the last instant, straightening up with a mocking grin as he brushed dust from his coat. "Hey, watch it! If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were actually trying to kill me!"
A vein bulged at Raynare's temple, her teeth grinding as she readied another spear. Freed had failed her too many times, and her fury was more than justified. Killing him would be no more than fitting punishment for his incompetence.
"You couldn't even manage to bring the girl, and you still act like you matter? I should just—"
"Now, now." Freed cut in, wagging his finger at her. "My job was to bring the girl. No one said anything about fighting some blond pretty boy with Bruce Lee's soul. From where I'm standing, the blame's all on you—"
Bam!
Another spear nearly skewered his head, and Freed leapt aside, sweat beading at his temple. He knew he was pressing his luck just by lingering near Raynare after his failure.
Freed might be insane, but he wasn't stupid. It was only a matter of time before Raynare decided he was more trouble than he was worth and tried to erase him. He only hoped it wouldn't happen before he'd had more fun with the little devils.
Besides, it wasn't even his fault! That blond guy… he wasn't normal. Freed had crossed paths with his share of powerful supernatural beings, but facing Adam had been something else entirely.
He wasn't exaggerating when he thought Adam could've killed him on their very first clash. The gap wasn't just physical; it was raw experience and mastery in battle.
Freed had replayed the fight in his head several times and realized the truth…
No matter how many attempts, he wouldn't have landed a single blow.
That's why he'd been so shocked when Mittelt claimed they had killed him. Something didn't add up. But in the end, he didn't care enough to dig deeper. If the plan failed, he could always cut and run. It wasn't as if he owed the Fallen Angels anything. To him, they were just a means to fuel his fun.
"You little—!"
Raynare was about to finish Freed once and for all when the flap of wings drew her attention. Black feathers drifted down as Mittelt landed gracefully in front of her.
"All set," Mittelt said firmly.
Raynare narrowed her eyes, quickly noticing the sack slung over Mittelt's shoulder. "Why is she in a bag?"
Freed immediately grew suspicious, though he didn't dare voice it. He'd rather not dodge another spear—each one was harder than the last.
Mittelt, maintaining a calm facade, masked her nerves with practiced ease. Compared to Adam's overwhelming presence, Raynare's pressure was nothing, so it wasn't difficult to appear composed.
"She tried to escape, so I knocked her out. The bag was just to avoid drawing attention."
Raynare studied her for a moment. Something felt off, but patience was wearing thin. Time was short, and they had to act quickly.
"Take her to the cross and bind her tightly. I'll begin the preparations."
Mittelt nodded, watching Raynare stride away with quick steps. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Before she could move, she noticed Freed's suspicious gaze lingering on her.
"What?" Her brows furrowed, her tone dripping with hostility.
"Nothing at all!" Freed raised his hands in mock surrender before strolling off.
"..."
Mittelt exhaled again, relieved. But there was no time to relax—the night had only just begun.
. . .
Minutes later, the full moon bathed the church in cold light. High in the sky, it marked the beginning of the long-awaited ritual.
In a chamber beneath the church, a great, aged cross stood tall. Before it, dozens of occultists—many of them priests long fallen from the sacred path—raised their hands in almost robotic unison.
Their voices melded into a dark chorus that echoed through the room, creating a dreadful atmosphere that would chill any ordinary soul.
Raynare and Mittelt stood beside the cross, their expressions starkly different. Raynare wore a manic smile, thrilled at what she had gathered. Mittelt, on the other hand, looked tense, her gaze darting between the cross—still hidden beneath a cloth—and the exorcists.
Lost in her own mind, Raynare didn't notice. She hardly even cared that Mittelt had draped the cross, her reasoning that it would "enhance the ritual" sounding perfectly logical to Raynare's twisted mind.
The chorus droned on, its heretical whispers filling the chamber, and Raynare's grin widened, teeth flashing in delight.
Then, all at once, the voices ceased. Silence swallowed the room as Raynare's smile faded into something sharper, her eyes glowing with malice. She gripped the cloth hiding the figure on the cross.
"For our master Azazel…" Her voice carried through the chamber.
"Let us begin."
With those words, she tore away the cloth—
—and froze.
Instead of the fragile, innocent girl she expected to see, her eyes widened in horror at the sight of a blond man, blue eyes gleaming like radiant orbs as they opened, gazing at everyone before him with a superiority only true power could command.
!
With a single pull, he snapped the ropes binding his wrists and dropped heavily onto the wooden floor of the altar.
The exorcists glanced frantically at each other, confusion and fear spreading in their eyes.
Raynare was no different. Her shock quickly turned to recognition as she realized who stood before her.
"So this is where the party's being held…" he sneered, a mocking smile curling his lips. "I almost feel bad for crashing like this. I would've been glad to come if invited…"
A vein pulsed on Raynare's forehead as the pieces clicked into place, her fury boiling at his audacity.
"Then again… I would've killed you all anyway."
!
The Fallen Angel lunged, a blazing spear of light forming in her hand as she charged, fury pouring off her like a suffocating aura that warped the air around her.
"But hey! Just because I'm here doesn't mean the fun has to end!"
She reached him in a blink, her spear descending toward his head, mere inches from skewering him—
Bam!
—only for a powerful kick to smash into her chest as he turned to meet her, the air blasting from her lungs as she was hurled across the chamber.
"Let's begin."
Adam grinned as he declared it, a sword of light forming in his hand as he turned toward the exorcists. This time, they understood, and weapons of light filled their hands as they prepared to strike.
Facing the collective fury, Adam showed no trace of fear or hesitation.
No—
In this moment, standing at the heart of their ritual, he felt… nostalgic.