Even though the night had been full of chaos, lake Elaine kept itself still and calm. You could see it from the many tall windows of the castle's south side, or rather you would if there was not a bound field blocking the view. One worn-out soul stumbled next to one of such windows. Diarmuid had wrapped his hand with fabric, as most of its skin was gone. He had finally reached one of the main stairs leading to the upper floors.

"Mister!" A pair of voices called out.

Diarmuid turned and saw Slacume and Orel hurry toward him.

"You two! Thank gods you are safe!"

"What happened to you?" Orel saw Diarmuid's wounds.

"I had a fight with one of those terrorists," Diarmuid said. "What about you? Where have you been?"

"After we got separated, we tried to find the caster of this bound field."

"I see, but did you not find him?" Diarmuid saw the windows still being blocked.

"I was just about to say," Slacume walked forward. "We figured he would be in the basement, so we first headed there. The other cultists ambushed us, but Mr. Park and the monk said they would handle it."

"You found Park? He is an interesting fellow, to say the least."

"You got that right."

"Slacume," Orel called.

"What?"

"Didn't one of the cultists sound familiar?"

"Now that you mention it, he reminded me of someone..."

The two thought back. There was only one person who came to mind.

"Father Ostwind." Both said.

"Rhein Ostwind, huh. So he was one of the terrorists." Diarmuid thought for himself. "Well, I hope the others will get that barrier down. We would really use some backup by now."

"Freeze!" A young voice commanded.

Diarmuid looked on top of the stairs and saw none other than his own men pointing their sights at him-

While Slacume and Orel instinctively raised their hands, Diarmuid only made a confused face.

"Boys, what's the matter with you? It's me!"

"Stay right there and don't move!"

"Mathew, just tell me what happened." Diarmuid looked at the soldier talking.

"Shut up, mage!" Mathew straightened his aim.

Diarmuid processed that there was something deeper going on. They were still part of their platoon the last time he saw them. Mathew had even shown pictures of his daughter to him.

"What should we do, mister?" Orel asked.

"Stay quiet. I'll handle this." Diarmuid pushed the two back.

"We are under new leadership, so we don't need to listen to your commands," Lecter said.

"Oh, I get it." Diarmuid realized. "You are both telepaths, right?"

"Took you a while." Mathew sneered.

"So you sided with these terrorists on a whim?"

Mathew shot next to Diarmuid's foot.

"They are going to free us." Mathew gave a stare.

"From what? You are no slave."

"Of course, you wouldn't get it." Lecter sighed. "Who needs a society where you only merit magic?"

Diarmuid burst out laughing. "You kids, you're exactly the reason why this country is so fucked up." Diarmuid tried to say between the laughter.

"What do you mean?" Mathew asked, gritting his teeth.

"Now, I don't exactly know what's the thing that grinds your gears, but you know that there are other options before joining in with terrorists?"

"You wouldn't know what it means to be oppressed."

Diarmuid laughed twice the hard as last time. "Did you forget? I'm a druid, you numbnuts!" Diarmuid chuckled. "My people have been oppressed long before you were sucking on your mom's nipple! But you know what we did? We started riots, we created movements, and we changed things. That's something you misguided privileged do-nothings never even tried."

"I'll blow your head out!" Mathew yelled.

"Wait," Lecter pulled the gun away.

"Don't stop me, Lecter!"

Lecter whispered. "Maybe we can talk him in on this. His people could side with us."

"Hmph, do what you want." Mathew took his finger off the trigger.

"And what did that help you? Last time I checked, all of your conservation areas are still next to factories." Lecter pointed out.

"At least we tried, and we still do. Even if there's no progress, we keep trying. Because that's the point, there never can be progress without first trying."

"But now we got our chance! Chance to try and make progress! A better tomorrow! Isn't that a wonderful thing? How about you join-"

"Stop with those false promises."

"Huh?"

"I understand your point, but this is not the right way. Are you really going to turn sides after some unknown people come and whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Are you seriously that gullible? They are literally terrorists!"

"They are telepaths, just like us! They understand our pain, and we do theirs! It's a stronger connection than blood! They are the real deal! He is the real deal."

"You talking about the thing they summoned?"

"Watch your mouth! He is none other than lord Vortigern himself, and he is here to free us from this oppressive world!" Mathew yelled.

"Yeah, right. Now you are trusting a resurrected king to solve all your problems. You are really convincing me right here."

"So that was the thing we found, Orel." Slacume realized in horror.

"Did he give you those rings too?" Diarmuid asked.

"Of course, our Lord gives way better benefits than our military," Mathew flashed the copper ring like a prize.

"And now you are sold to him, huh? Do you even know what his plan is? Did he give you the memo, or were you too blind to check?"

"Okay." Lecter sighed. "Let's shoot him."

"Sorry, captain." Mathew grinned with no remorse.

"Quick, get behind me!" Diarmuid widened his pose.

Slacume and Orel barely had time to shuffle behind Diarmuid before the two soldiers started firing.

Diarmuid's whole body lit up as the hail of bullets ricocheted off his skin. The damage was still there, like being hit with tens of rubber bullets per second. It was a literal one-sided beatdown.

"I bet that your magic will run out before our bullets!" Mathew laughed.

Back in the underground, Isao had made no progress in defeating Eargaoth. All his attempts were made futile by constant regeneration. He had backed himself against a wall as Eargaoth approached.

"This is all too similar to that white beast I encountered." Isao huffed.

"So, you couldn't even kill that useless goblin of a servant on your own, yet you still insist on fighting me?" Eargaoth swung his sword.

Isao had a hard time blocking Earhaoth's inhuman strikes. Every thrust, sweep, and swing felt like trying to catch a boulder.

"Humans have an infinite capacity to grow. Only in death do we lose it." Isao said.

"Only when you lose that capacity can you feel how unfair the world is!" Eargaoth's strikes became furious.

"Hurting the lives of innocent people is the epitome of unfairness itself!"

Isao's naginata began glowing with sparks of electricity. It made Eargaoth take a step back. Though his magic was running low, Isao could still charge up at least one last blow.

"You have become the monster that you so much detest! Even my lighting will not consume you, but it will burn you to hell! I will be sure that you will meet your end before you cause any more suffering!"

"You cannot defeat me! I will rise again and again! My body will not stop!"

Eargaoth gripped his sword with two hands. Blood flowed to the blade, growing it to twice the size. The veins grew to morbid proportions as the whole edge seemed to pulse frantically.

The two were ready to clash. Isao flashed toward with his blade, prepared to bring down the evil standing before him. Eargaoth readied to slash wide and through whatever was in his way. Until their attacks would connect, victory would be for anyone to claim.

That was until a small whisper reached Eargaoth's ears.

"...Eargaoth," Deasdùn said,

The familiar voice disturbed Eargaoth's attention, even though only for a moment. He could not turn away from the fight, but he already knew who it was. The man gently tapped him on the shoulder. Even without words, Eargaoth could understand what Deasdùn was trying to say, but his body would not listen. At the same moment, Eargaoth witnessed Tuatcnoc's spirit right before him.

"That's enough, Ergie. Let your soul go to hell together with us." He pleaded softly.

Watching his fellow man's defeated face made Eargaoth's rotted eyes water and hands loosen their grip. Decades' worth of pressure and responsibility cleared off his shoulders. Even if Eargaoth wished that, he could not disobey the order he put on his soul. To fight until it burned out. The last thing he could do was simple. If he could not liberate himself, it was up to his opponent.

"I'll be waiting to see that smile again," Tuatcnoc faded away.

Isao was dumbfounded by the sudden lack of resistance but felt in his heart that this was not a mistake. He feared now more than anything if he could respect the man's wishes. Isao concentrated all of his will and power and lunged forth. His blade sliced into Eargaoth's neck but was about to get stuck. Isao used the last bits of his strength to pull it through. The body would not rise anymore as Isao cauterized the wound. The smiling head snapped off and rolled to the ground.

As Deasdùn witnessed Eargaoth's last moments, he closed his eyes with a smile just as wide and let himself fall to the ground.

"See you soon," He smiled.

Isao had nothing else to say. Though he was tired, he could not spare strength when honoring someone's last wishes. Soon enough, he whipped off the blood from his blade. He sat down and gave both of them his prayer. Though they were sinners, Isao was ready to forgive those who repent, even if the Gods would not.

On the third floor, Lionel lay barely alive on the floor as fairies desperately tried to heal him. The moon fell back toward the horizon, and its rays no longer shone through the windows. Vortigern looked down on his adversary, though not in anger or spite. In fact, he barely felt anything at all.

"I suppose there is not a soul alive that could comprehend my reasons," Vortigern said.

"If it is more than relentless violence, I do not know." The fairy said.

"Then heal that damn duke. I have a favor to ask."

Suddenly the doors burst open with the sound of marching.

"Lord Lionel, are you alright?" Jessie asked.

The group of soldiers, accompanied by Gotthold, had arrived after the zombies had all fallen limb everywhere.

As they looked closely, they noticed the situation. From their perspective, they saw Lionel on the floor, accompanied by lights and a menacing dark figure watching over him like death.

"Who are you?" They pointed their guns at Vortigern.

"That is an excellent question," Vortigern said.

"Lord Lionel!" Gotthold gasped.

"It is pointless to point your weapons at me. Moreover, I do not wish to fight anymore. I have seen enough." Vortigern turned.

Lionel felt the tips of his fingertips again while also being in pain from the last beatdown. He rose steadily yet silently.

"I heard no bell." Lionel spat blood. "Fairies, do it."

"Are you sure? You know what it will cost you."

"Do it." He insisted.

"Oh, you are awake." Vortigern noticed. "Since the battle is over, I was going to ask-"

Lionel punched without warning. Vortigern did not feel anything at first. Then his armor cracked. The next thing he realized was that he had hit the wall at the end of the hall. Jessie and others took cover from the sudden rumbling.

Vortigern fell to his knees but rose put fairly quickly. Lionel was in front of him by that point. He punched him again, slamming him against the wall. And again, and again. Vortigern grabbed Lionel's hand. Then the other. The two stared down in a test of strength, one that Lionel already knew he would lose.

"Listen now, you brute!" Vortigern grimaced. "You are wasting your time."

"I waste none of my time! You better start warming up for round two!"

"Hear. What. I. Have. To. Say." Vortigern pressed Lionel down.

"I've heard enough!" Lionel headbutted Vortigern.

Vortigern responded by swinging Lionel to the other side of the hall. Unsurprisingly, Lionel walked it off and jumped forward. Vortigern dodged Lionel's attempt to smack him down and kicked him off like an annoying dog. Lionel stopped himself from sliding on the floor but was already huffing from exhaustion.

"Lord Lionel!" Gotthold yelled.

"Kiku?" Lionel noticed.

"Listen to the man, at least for a moment!"

"...Fine." Lionel sighed.

Vortigern saw Lionel fixing his hair as if he was having a bad hair day.

"What do you want? You already made the point that you can surely beat the hell out of me." Lionel asked while straightening his broken nose.

"I need you to contact the queen."

"Excuse me?" Lionel stumbled back from sheer confusion.

"There is something I need to settle that requires her."

"Still, that is quite a thing to ask for. I can't promise that the queen would respect your demand any more than myself."

"I am here for personal matters. Once I am done with them, I can pass on."

"Well, what is it on for me?"

"I would appreciate dignity for sparing you, but perhaps a sign of good faith could make do."

"And what would that mean?"

"I will make a soul vow that I will not hurt any living being as long as I live. And while I cannot bring back any of your slain men, I can, however, take care of any that remain sided with me."

"That sounds too good of a deal."

"Then I shall forge the soul vow now."

Vortigern stripped off his armor and revealed his chest. He pointed his sharp finger at his heart and began carving out symbols with the bloody nail. Without a hint of emotion, he chanted the vow.

"I, lord Vortigern, mark my soul with this promise. I shall not slay another living soul until my body is put to rest. If I were to break this vow, may it burn my body and scar my soul."

"I am impressed," Lionel walked over. He reached his hand to Vortigern. "And I am a man of my words."

Vortigern hesitated but decided to shake on it. "You are more proud than your ancestors."

"I pretend I didn't hear that. " Lionel said. "Kiku, bring my phone."

"As promised, I will take care of my minions."

Vortigern snapped his fingers with an odd smile on his face.

Park had reached the last of the cultists, Largaoth. He was praying peacefully while sitting in the middle of the room. Largaoth had removed his mask, revealing a horribly malformed face full of blisters, abscesses, and scars. As Park got closer, he noticed a white glow from underneath the man's robes and tears running down his uneven face.

"...I sense it. Everyone's, even my brother's soul has left this realm."

"So, you are the last of them?" Park walked closer.

Largaoth fell silent, and his face stiffened. "...If you are here to end my life, so be it. My whole existence has been nothing but suffering. I only wish to be united with my brother once more."

"Well, there is a death sentence waiting for you, but I am not a man who kills. I left that part of me in the past."

"...If only the world was as moral as you."

The sudden sound of a snap echoed in Largaoth's mind. At that time, his ring started to glow, becoming excruciatingly hot. The glow passed to his arm, and soon his whole body began to crack. Largaoth was in agony with the feeling of his entire body burning and breaking.

"What is happening?" Largaoth asked in agony. "The ring! Curse you, Vortigern! I curse you in the name of Ostwind!"

Park could only watch as Largaoth exploded into nothingness, leaving not even ashes. Only his white robes remained. Park fell to his knees. He had no idea what that was about but was furious how he could not lay the man down to rest. Largaoth's death also undid his enchantment, finally releasing the castle from the fog. The police force noticed it immediately and stormed the castle.

On the staircase, a similar event occurred. Along with many previous guards scattered around the castle, Mathew and Lecter began to disintegrate. Their hands would fall off, where they would no longer hold anything, and soon it would reach their chest and finally to their head.

Diarmuid heard the confused screams, but like Park, he couldn't do anything but watch as his men turned surely but painfully into nothingness.

"What? No, why is this happening?" Mathew screamed his last words. "Alya, darling..."

"I don't wanna die!" Lecter cried as he crumbled on the floor.

Within moments, they were dead, leaving only weapons and clothes and a bad feeling.

"What happened?" Orel asked with cold sweat running down his face.

"I knew those rings were cursed." Diarmuid shook his head. "You can rest now, boys. Your battle is over."

With a single snap, Vortigern erased all the ones foolish enough to have taken his token. The spell also would destroy all bodies that carried the ring, but who hopingly got a more peaceful death.

Diarmuid climbed the steps to see his fallen men, but his attention went to the scenery opening from the windows. Diarmuid made a face as he glanced at lake Elaine.

"What the hell is that?" Diarmuid walked closer.

Slacume and Orel gathered to the window as well. The three saw the same thing; a glowing yellow light shone from under the water. As it became brighter and brighter, a dark form became apparent. Something was rising from there. Something grand. Then it reached the surface—a large bulk of metal, a submarine. It had been traveling for a while to get there in the profound ocean realm. Conrad and Agatha saw the castle through a reinforced panel on the ship's bow.

"There is our target. It looks like the fog has already cleared." Agatha informed.

"Do we head on foot?" Norman asked.

"No, we will enter from the roof."

"How, exactly?" Norman looked up.

"Conrad, accelerate to full speed. Wilde, you know what to do."

"Are you sure this will work, ma'am?" Conrad asked.

"Remember to stop casting before impact."

"Alright." He shrugged.

The vessel started to speed toward the castle, creating ripples and waves. It looked as if a sizeable bright stone was skipping through the surface.

"Everyone, I advise you to strap in. The next phase will be a bumpy one." Conrad sat down. "Wilde, are you ready yet?"

"I'm on it," Wilde pressed his palms on the floor.

Norman was about to lose his footing as the center of gravity shifted. Thankfully, Andras was there to grab his hand while hanging on to a pipe.

Diarmuid's eyes were about to fall off as he saw the submarine take off from the water and propel itself through the air. Water dripped down from the sides, while some of it floated weightlessly along.

"It's heading for the roof," Diarmuid noticed. "Wait, could it be?"

For anyone still awake or alive in the city, the last thing they still would not have expected was a submarine floating above the castle. Even James saw it, though he already knew what was happening.

"Now!" Agatha shouted.

Conrad snapped his fingers, and the submarine vanished completely like a mirage. It left the group falling down to the open rooftop terrace, but this was all planned. Wilde touched the freefalling group after another, which made them fall like feathers. This did not make Norman scream any less until his feet gently touched the ground. They were so light that the furniture would not tip over if they fell on them.

"I'm alive?" Norman opened his eyes.

"Sounds like it," Andras cleaned his ears.

"Our co-operation ends here," Agatha said. "We have our own mission."

"Looks like things have already calmed down," Fleming looked around.

"It's too tranquil, considering we just infiltrated," Conrad added. "Someone already took down the barrier, as well."

"Do not drop your guard! This can very well be a trap." Agatha reminded.

All four of the special agents concentrated their attention on the stairs. Their sharp ears picked up the distinct sound of footsteps echoing downstairs, even though the rain would have made them inaudible for ordinary folks such as Norman and Andras. Those who used combat spells prepared them, while others drew their guns out. The footsteps reached the roof before Andras or Norman could even get a word out.

"Glad to see you here, Spec," Diarmuid said.

"Oh, it's the captain of Frogfoot," Fleming lowered his gun.

"Who are the others?" Conrad noticed.

"Orel!" Norman turned his head.

"I see. He must be the last missing party member," Agatha watched as the three hugged each other. "Captain Cumhaill, status report." Agatha switched the subject.

"Oh, right." Diarmuid saluted. "The terrorists have been neutralized, but there is still one dangerous opponent left."

"Could you elaborate? No, first. Do you have intel on the duke?"

"No, we have yet to find him, but he should be with our platoon."

"And what is this threat you talk about?"

"It is an ancient summoned character that the followers call Vortigern."

"Try to form contact with your platoon. Radio communication should be back online." Agatha said.

Diarmuid made a face. "I didn't have time to think about that."

Diarmuid took out his radio and turned it on. "Ramsay, do you hear me? Over."

The static sounded none the different from before until the signal reached him.

"Diarmuid, is that you? Over." Jessie asked.

"Yes, we are on the roof with Spec operators. Are you with Sir Lionel? Over."

"Yes. Sorry, but I didn't know the radio was back online. Over."

"Could you hand it to me?" Agatha stretched her hand.

"Alright." Diarmuid handed it over.

"This is Colonel Agatha Rowling. Who am I speaking to? Over."

"This is Lieutenant Ramsay. Over," Jessie what slightly put off by the change of speaker.

"Are you with the duke? What is your status? Over."

"Sir Lionel is...Safe. We are with him on the second floor grand hall. Over."

Agatha picked up the slight hesitation in Jessie's voice.

"Could you put Sir Lionel on the line? Over."

"Um, I am afraid not. He is currently speaking on his phone. Over."

"Sigh, if it is so urgent, we shall go there to meet him. Over."

"A-alright. I will have him know. Over and out." Jessie ended the call.

"You there." Agatha pointed to Slacume. "You must be one of the servants in this castle."

"Y-yes, I am."

"Lead us to the grand hall."

"Sure," Slacume nodded.

As the Spec, Diarmuid, and Slacume walked down the stairs, Orel, Norman, and Andras were left on their own.

"So, Orel. What is happening here?" Norman asked as if it was gossip.

"The terrorists came here, but it looks like they all died."

"Are we late to the fight?" Andras was a bit disappointed.

"There is still the thing they talked about," Orel reminded.

"You mean Vortigern?" Norman asked.

"Yeah, but we don't know where he is supposed to be."

"I have a feeling we should follow them." Norman glanced.

The three walked down the circular stairs, trying to keep up with the other group.

"But where did you go?" Orel asked.

"Um, I got a bit lost on the way. Let's just say those two mages weren't the only ones carrying a grudge against us." Norman shook his head. "How about on your side?"

"Well, we found one of the ritual sites near a village, and there was this white spirit that killed people, and then the military took us here, but then his white mist came, and we had to fight zombies and cultists, and there was this weird janitor who beat them all up and-"

"Stop it! I missed so much action..." Andras moped.

"I think we got plenty of it," Norman said. "Too bad our job got canceled."

"We got it done," Orel said.

Norman stopped.

"Wait, what?"

"We ran into the Barghest while trying to find the village."

"How did you defeat it?"

"Well, this monk walked into us and kicked its ass."

"What did he look like? Is he still here?" Andras asked frantically.

"We have other things to worry about," Norman dragged Andras by his collar. "Come on, get going."

Back at the grand hall, Jessie, among others, was quite concerned about the situation. Vortigern patiently waited as Lionel dialed a secret number to try and talk to the royal palace.

"This is the private line of the Royal Defence Services. Who is this?" A dry voice answered the call.

"Sir Lionel Elyan Claudin."

"Oh, and?"

"The duke falls before their majesty."

"Understood. What is your business, lord Claudin?"

"This is an urgent message I need to deliver to the queen."

"For what purpose?"

"The mastermind behind these attacks wishes attendance with the queen as a peace condition. He has already sworn a soul vow to cause no harm to us. I am personally ready to negotiate to prevent further destruction."

"Is that true? Very well, I will deliver this message to her majesty, but I would like to remind you that she has no obligation to offer help in such a situation."

"I am aware of such fact."

"Then, good night for you, lord Claudin," The man ended the call.

"They will consider the offer, but I can't say for sure that she will l come," Lionel turned toward Vortigern.

"If she has any of the blood of Pendragon, she will come."

"What is happening here?" Agatha walked in.

"Spec," Gotthold noticed the uniforms.

Jessie and others made way for Spec, mainly because they did not want to bother them.

"This place is like a battleground," Wilde looked around.

"That's because it is," Conrad said.

Lionel, shirtless and looking like having been caught in a storm, waved his hands as he saw the threatening face on Agatha.

"Everything is under control, Spec," Lionel said.

"You call this under control?" Agatha asked.

"All threats have been taken care of." Lionel crossed his arms.

"Then why is that thing still standing?" Agatha glanced at Vortigern.

"This is beyond your responsibilities, Colonel Agatha," Lionel said seriously. "If your mission was to secure me, it has already been accomplished."

"I cannot disobey a duke, but we will continue to investigate this matter, and we will have a talk with you."

"Feel free." Lionel smiled smugly.

Suddenly a sparkling white circle drew itself in the air in the center of the room. Both Spec and the military readied their weapons, but Vortigern only watched with a slight smile on his face.

"She has come."