Derek Augustus hadn't originally planned to intervene. Whether the Witch cult's people lived or died mattered nothing to him. He was only here to carry out the task assigned to him by George III and William Augustus I.
More importantly, an unspoken agreement existed between the Loen royal family and the Church: Angel-level beings didn't intervene directly. A clash between demigods was, at least, within a manageable range of destruction.
But if Angel-level powerhouses started fighting each other, the entire city of Backlund could get wiped off the map — an outcome neither the Loen royal family nor the Church wanted to see.
But that Nation of Disorder stone Vincent had just thrown had caught his attention. As an Angel of the Arbitrator Pathway, that stone, carrying the scent of the Nation of Disorder, held an enormous pull over him, enough to make him abandon his original plan.
After all, it might involve Source Quality — a risk worth taking. And besides, in his own estimation, taking down a demigod wouldn't cost him much time at all.
"Run!"
The instant Vincent found himself in this "Balancer's" sights, his spirituality trembled uncontrollably, and without the slightest hesitation, it handed control back to him, pulling him out of the Ambitionist state.
An intense wave of exhaustion, and a bone-deep pain, sent Vincent's head spinning — but that was quickly followed by a surge of spirituality and strength flooding through him, restoring him instantly into a genuine, full-strength Sequence 3.
But he found no joy in it — the gap between Sequence 3 and Sequence 2 might well be wider than the gap between a human and a dog.
The only option left to him was to run.
"Spirit World transit is forbidden here."
As if anticipating exactly what Vincent intended, Derek Augustus preemptively activated "Forbid," cutting off any chance of escaping through the Spirit World.
Vincent wasn't surprised — facing an opponent of the Arbitrator Pathway, any Beyonder, regardless of pathway, had to be mentally prepared to have some of their abilities "banned" outright.
He stepped back, his figure vanishing, dissolving into shadow as he leapt rapidly toward the distance.
Derek Augustus's second "Forbid" followed close behind: "Invisibility is forbidden here."
As Vincent's silhouette reappeared, Derek raised a hand and pushed it forward, his thin lips murmuring, "Confine."
A thick, viscous, transparent liquid materialized out of nowhere, forming layer upon layer of translucent walls, freezing Vincent in place. With a casual wave, an invisible whip lashed out across several hundred meters, striking Vincent precisely.
But Vincent had already, moments earlier, empowered himself with "Emperor's New Clothes." An ancient-looking cane suddenly appeared in his hand, and he raised it lightly, then brought it down:
"Moses Parts the Sea."
RUMBLE!
The transparent walls confining Vincent split cleanly in two in an instant, the shockwave surging forward with unstoppable force straight at Derek Augustus, hovering in midair.
But his expression stayed flat. He pointed at the sea-parting force. "Exile."
The next instant, that colossal force was hurled off into the void, discarded somewhere unknown.
In those few seconds, Vincent, guided by Bernadette, opened the Secret Door and pulled out a pale mask with a cold, metallic sheen — hollow only at the eyes, radiating an aura of stillness so profound it seemed capable of ending all things, unmaking every concept it touched.
This was a sealed item forged from the Sequence 1 Beyonder Characteristic of the Death Pathway: "Pale Death"!
Vincent didn't hesitate for a second, pressing the mask directly onto his face.
Instantly, an indescribable force — one that seemed capable of making everything "die," everything "vanish" — began spreading outward from him at incredible speed. The ground, the stones, everything around him began rapidly weathering away into nothing.
For the first time, an expression shifted on Derek Augustus's face. He could clearly feel, radiating off that pale mask, a threat unsettling enough to make even him uneasy.
...
Saint Samuel's Church. A quiet room within.
The Sage Anthony Stevenson knelt beneath the Goddess of the Evernight's holy radiance, head bowed, his deep-set eyes as still as a well undisturbed by wind.
Suddenly, the light around him vanished, as if swallowed whole by the room's dimness. Throughout the entire church, every praying believer felt, for just an instant, the descent of night itself.
Saint Anthony rose to his feet, tapped his chest a few times facing the holy radiance, then, in a blink, appeared before the Chanis Gate deep beneath the church. His voice was calm, commanding:
"Get everything ready. Begin the procedure. I'm going to awaken a sealed item."
"Sealed Item '0-17.'"
...
In a hidden tomb on the outskirts of Backlund.
George III sat quietly in a golden throne deep within, his face swallowed by shadow, his expression unreadable.
Suddenly —
The air trembled faintly around him, a suffocating, terrible presence quietly descending.
BOOM!!!
The next instant, George III's figure blurred into an afterimage as he shot forward, arriving before the massive doors at the tomb's entrance. Beneath the fading light of dusk, two figures hovered in the air, looking down at him from above.
"You've finally come."
A few seconds later, George III raised his head, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile beneath his mustache.
The two figures before him were Angels of the Castia and the Tamara families — George III had deliberately leaked information through various channels, letting them believe today was the critical moment for his ascension to Black Emperor.
Thud, thud, thud.
To the sound of heavy footsteps, a cloaked figure stepped out from the darkness: William Augustus I, black-haired, blue-eyed, square-jawed, radiating an unmistakable authority.
The Angels of the two families had long suspected this could all be a trap, but they had no other choice — they couldn't afford to let a chance this important slip by.
Worst case, it'd become two-on-two — they didn't need to win outright, only to stall for time, or even sabotage George III's plans for ascension.
The two exchanged a glance and moved to strike.
But right then, their expressions suddenly shifted, both staring fixedly toward one direction: a man in a plain white robe, thick, pale gold beard, a silver cross pendant hanging at his chest — looking, for all the world, like an ordinary priest.
But the hearts of both the Castia and Tamara representatives sank instantly:
Adam.
Beneath the gods themselves, this was one of the enemies they least wanted to face.
The other — was Amon.
...
Inside Red Rose Manor.
Amon, having slipped past everyone's notice, followed Klein all the way to the innermost bedroom, then leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the witches set up their ritual altar.
Stephen couldn't help but ask, "Are you just going to keep watching this the whole time?"
"What else would I do?"
Amon said, smiling. "Step in heroically, stop these witches, prevent the disaster, save Backlund from ruin?"
"Are you confused about something again? Amon can be anyone — but a hero, never. And certainly never a savior."
Stephen was quiet for a few seconds, then asked, "Why not?"
"Because it's too boring."
"Have you ever actually been a hero, or a savior?"
Amon rested his chin in thought. "Guess not."
"Then how would you know it'd be boring?"
"Hm, fair point, actually."
A look of realization crossed Amon's face. "Well, you've convinced me!"
Before Stephen could even feel happy about it, Amon suddenly burst out laughing. "Just kidding!"
To be continued…
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