The light from the Angel's palm shot forward. Not like ordinary Angel attacks—this was faster, brighter, more deadly. Leon barely raised his sword before the light struck him.
BAM!
Leon was hurled back, crashing into the debris behind him. His sword cracked, his hands trembled. Blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, from wounds on his arms, from his entire body.
But he rose.
The Angel with golden wings raised an eyebrow. "Still alive? You're stronger than I thought."
Leon smiled bitterly. "You... shouldn't underestimate a low-class demon."
"Underestimate?" The Angel laughed softly. Her voice was beautiful, but cold. "No. I'm just... curious. How long can you last?"
She raised her hand again. Light gathered—brighter than before.
Leon bit his lip. His teleportation was failing. His precognition was blurring. His body had too many wounds.
But he couldn't fall. Behind him, Sylvaine still lay unconscious.
The second strike hit his chest.
Leon was hurled back, falling near Sylvaine. Blood flowed from his mouth, from his wounds, from his entire body. He tried to rise—but his body wouldn't move.
"Finally," the Angel said, stepping closer. "I'm tired of waiting."
But behind Leon, a soft voice sounded.
"Le... on..."
Leon turned.
Sylvaine stirred. Her eyes opened—dazed, still half-conscious, but seeing. Seeing Leon covered in blood.
"You're... hurt..."
Leon smiled. "Just a scratch."
Sylvaine wanted to be angry, but her tears fell first. She grabbed Leon's hand, trying to help him stand. But her own body was still weak. The wound on her temple still bled.
"You can't—"
"I can." Sylvaine cut in. Her voice was weak, but her eyes—her eyes were not.
The Angel with golden wings stopped. Her gaze shifted from Leon to Sylvaine. Something changed in her expression—not anger, not hatred. But... something more complex.
"Sylvaine," she said. Her voice was no longer cold. There was another tone there. "You've grown."
Sylvaine froze. "You... who are you?"
The Angel smiled. Not the cold smile from before. A smile that was... wistful. "I am your aunt, Sylvaine. I am Shalara, leader of the Ninth Order of the Angel Race. And you... you are my sister's daughter."
Leon tensed. Sylvaine paled.
"What?" Sylvaine whispered.
"The angel blood in your body comes from your mother," Shalara continued, her steps slowly approaching. "My sister, Seraphina. She fell in love with a demon—Zar Belphegor. They married, breaking the laws of our race."
Sylvaine's face grew paler. "Mother... I never knew..."
"That's because Zar hid it. Hid you." Shalara stopped a few steps away from them. "He was afraid we would take you."
Memories surfaced in Sylvaine's mind. Her father's always-serious face. Excessive protection. The prohibition against leaving the palace alone. None of it was because she was a king's daughter. It was because she was the child of a forbidden love between an angel and a demon.
Shalara extended her hand. "Come back with me, Sylvaine. I can teach you to use your angel power. I can protect you."
Sylvaine gripped Leon's hand tighter. "No."
Shalara frowned. "Sylvaine—"
"I won't leave Leon." Sylvaine's voice was small, but firm. "And I won't leave the family that raised me."
Shalara fell silent. Her gaze shifted to Leon, then back to Sylvaine.
"You're as stubborn as your mother," she finally said. There was a bitter tone in her voice. "She also chose that demon. And look what happened—"
BAM!
A figure fell between them. Not from the sky—from behind the ruins. A body, old, cloaked, face deathly pale. Blood flowed from its wounds.
Leon froze. "King Zar..."
Zar Belphegor lay on the ground, unmoving. His chest did not rise and fall. His eyes were open, but empty.
From atop the ruins, another figure leaped down. An Angel with a massive build, two giant axes in hand, greyish-white wings.
"Shalara," he said, his voice heavy. "I brought the corpse."
Shalara didn't answer. Her eyes were still on Zar.
She approached, kneeling beside the body. Her hand lifted, almost touching Zar's face—but stopped.
"My brother-in-law," she whispered. "You once said you would protect my sister's daughter. But instead, you hid her."
She stood. Her face returned to cold.
The massive Angel's other hand held another figure lying weak and familiar.
Zephyr.
Leon jolted. "Your Majesty!"
Zephyr was badly wounded. Worse than before. His face was pale, blood flowing from all over his body. But his eyes were still open. Still alive.
"Brother Zephyr!" Sylvaine cried out, almost running—but Leon held her back.
"Don't."
Shalara looked at them. "I came to take my niece. But you chose that demon." She glanced at Leon. "You wasted your chance, Sylvaine."
Sylvaine bit her lip. Tears streamed down her cheeks. But she didn't retreat.
"I won't leave Leon."
Shalara sighed. "You truly are your mother's daughter."
She turned. "Bellarion. Take Sylvaine."
But before Bellarion could move—
"HEY!"
From the sky, a figure shot down. Blue lightning struck, forcing Bellarion back a step.
Raiden landed between them, hammer on his shoulder, smile on his face. His clothes were torn, his body covered in wounds. But his eyes blazed.
"Sorry I'm late," he said. "Had some business at the west wing."
Bellarion growled. "Raiden Belphegor."
"Seems I'm famous." Raiden laughed. "So you're the one who brought my father's and brother's corpses?"
Bellarion raised his axes. "I'll crush you."
"You can try."
But before they could fight, suddenly, from the ruins in the distance, a spatial rift opened. Leon turned—from within the rift, a figure stepped out.
Not Valker. Not Fenrith.
The figure was tall, with long silver hair, elven clothing. Its eyes glowed red.
Leon stood. "King Aerion..."
Sylvaine was shocked. "Aerion? But he—"
"He died." Leon answered. "Or at least, he did."
The figure stopped before Leon. Then, slowly, knelt.
"My Lord."
Its voice was hoarse, distant, as if from afar. But clear.
Leon looked at it. "Forsaken. You are Forsaken."
The figure nodded. "Forsaken... accepts."
Beside Leon, Raiden raised an eyebrow. "You raised the elf king?"
Leon nodded. "He'll be useful."
Raiden laughed. "You're... truly a strange demon."
Leon didn't answer. He looked at the sky, with two leaders of the Angel Orders before them.
Behind him stood Valker and Fenrith. Before him knelt Forsaken, who had once healed him.
A new battle was about to begin.
=== CHAPTER 14 END ===