"Such pretty eyes. I cannot wait to add yours to my collection. Gods, my taste buds are tingling," the man simpered, caressing his tongue against lips of venomous green, reminiscent of the poison ivy at peak maturity. As the mysterious man drew the ethereal hand of onyx closer to his body, a katana flew across, cutting the hand loose from its connecting arm and freeing the trapped lady from the sorcerous grip. Having accomplished its mission, the blade returned to Misaki's hand in a single smooth maneuver.

"It appears we have guests," the man announced, turning his body and finishing off with a low bow. As he rose, his eyes swept across the prince and his companions. "Ahhhh...and just the guests I wanted to see. My dears, you have spared me the onerous, onerous trouble of coming after you."

"Are you bloody sick in the mind?" Yurisviel hollered. "How could you do that to those guards back at the fountain? And...the poor maid...how could you?!"

The man, garbed in a sinister black cloak and bowler hat to match, blinked his eyes a few times in a seemingly confused manner. To match his unnatural green lips, the man had dusted his eyes with a cosmetic lincoln-green powder.

"Why, I was merely doing what all collectors do," he said in a bemused fashion, as if speaking to a group of three-year-olds. "But first off, where are my manners? My name is Malcolm, and I'm a collector. See, I like collecting beautiful stuff. Some human parts can be so...charming, you know. Those I view as pretty, I keep. Those that are not, I dispose. Simple logic. After all, which collector keeps ugly trinkets in his possession, eh?"

As he fished around casually in his pocket, Malcolm continued, "It was the maid's honour that I took a fancy to her eyes. They were so pretty that I had to gouge them out, one by one. A pity that the woman was shrieking so loudly while I was doing the act. Had to squash her head in to silence that awful racket. But well, at least I got what I wanted." He took out a pair of eyeballs from his pocket and showed them proudly to the group.

"You...maniac." Zenvix uttered through gritted teeth. Consolidating the power within his blackened hand, the prince imbued his arrows with scorching flames and fired them, one after another in lightning succession at the shadowy man.

"Ooh interesting, it is as he said," Malcolm said in a delighted fashion, "you do know some magic tricks, Prince Nighvicto."

"You know me? I thought I would remember a psychotic douchebag if I met one," Zenvix said, dashing in to close the distance against Malcolm. Yurisviel was already flanking the man on his right, intending to attack from a different angle.

"Of course I do. Your pretty head was next on his list after the dear general," Malcolm smiled. As the flaming arrows flew close, the shadowy hands lined themselves side-by-side, forming a wall which rapidly melted, converging and overlapping into dark swirling matter. Like a black hole.

The arrows were swallowed up whole, akin to prey eaten by a ravenous snake. Speedily, the dark swirling matter deconstructed and reformed back to shadowy hands once more before zipping down to meet the prince and his lady retainer.

As Zenvix dodged a hand going for his head, he saw from the corner of his eyes a forelimb shooting for the aged knight standing with his sword drawn. No, Dylas! Zenvix thought. He instinctively pivoted his foot in the direction of his mentor.

The knight's eyes opened wide as he saw the insidious hand reach out for his face, as if to twist his head off. Then a flash of brilliant light radiated, blinding Zenvix's eyes for a second. Misaki had one katana drawn, the tip of its long blade touching the ground in a hilt-up position. From the point where the tip touched, a sheen of white, translucent energy seemed to fan out, forming a dome with patterned scute-like sections. As the foul appendage made contact with the dome, its very form disintegrated, leaving nothing but fetid wafts of dark smog.

Malcolm narrowed his eyes carefully, before letting loose a hyena-like laugh; the shrill sound of it filling the chamber with a hair-raising racket. "My oh my," Malcom said, "what is an eastern master of Qi arts doing here in Ceil? The Black Tortoise of the Five Heavenly Beasts; a 360-degree defence that siphons life force to maintain its form. That is an impressive barrier of energy, my dear. But the question is, just how long can you hold it, before you drop like a lifeless doll?"

"Lady Alinsky..." Dylas said slowly, his voice taut. "Is that true? You will...die from maintaining this barrier?"

"I won't," Misaki replied, forcing a smile at the aged knight. "Not before that pair takes out the madman first."

"But...!" Dylas protested.

"Trust in them," Misaki said firmly, before her eyes seeked out the prince.

"Leave Dylas to me," the swordswoman shouted at Zenvix. "Kill him fast."

Malcolm guffawed once again. "Qi may be the only known form of energy that counteracts arcane, but don't kid yourself. I will enjoy seeing your dead body before long."

He sighed condescendingly, as a stygian hand grabbed Yurisviel by the leg and threw her to the opposite end of the hall with relative ease. Nocking an arrow to his bow, Zenvix released it towards Malcolm's torso, but it was blocked by a forelimb of arcane origins. The intended effect took hold immediately, causing the appendage to struggle briefly before toppling to the ground, as if crushed by an unknown force of colossal proportions.

"Hah! Interesting," Malcolm commented, seeming unfazed by the fact that one of his shadowy forelimbs is now held paralyzed to the ground. "A spell embedded within an arrow?"

"That would have worked on a physical form, but against my magic..." Malcolm snapped his fingers and the arcane appendage pinned robustly to the ground disappeared; swiftly replaced by a new one. "It is laughably futile."

As the pair fought, Misaki witnessed the battle that unfolded before her. Zenvix and Yurisiviel may share a master and spirit relationship, but their fighting is unsynchronized and without teamwork. Both are fighting a battle of their own, instead of fighting a battle together. Misaki thought.

They are still far from their true potential.

"Your Highness!" Dylas shouted, as an onyx hand transformed into the image of a spike club, which batted its full force into Zenvix's midriff. Spurts of scarlet spewed from the prince's lips as his body was blown tens of yards away from Malcolm, flying across the dirt before landing stock-still from the crushing impact.

"You will pay for that!" Yurisviel snarled, zipping in between Malcolm's arcane forelimbs in an attempt to get close to the man's body. Her speed intensified, reaching almost a blur of movement. At the last second, she appeared within striking distance. Drawing back her fist, Yursiviel plunged it to the man's jaw.

Only to be stopped by tendrils of darkness, which tied her limbs back in mid-air. "I'm sorry, what did you say I had to pay for, again?" Malcolm cupped his hand to his ear in a mocking manner. Coming close to the lady, the man smiled, and then slapped Yurisviel across the face in a resounding snap.

"You are the prince's servant, are you not? Then act like one," Malcolm said.

Cusping his hands behind him, he continued, "You may have speed and strength, but your range is too limited. With my shadow magic, I can shape arcane to any form I want using my own shadow, to any number of objects I desire. The prince may know a few parlour tricks, but they were just that; tricks. Against a proper arcane user, he might as well be a pig for slaughter. In short, you two...are too weak."

He turned his eye towards the two remaining opponents in his midst. Misaki was still keeping up the barrier against his onslaught of arcane attacks, her face having paled considerably after all this time.

"Please just leave me be, Lady Alinsky," Dylas said, a note of plea in his dignified voice. "From the moment I chose to become a soldier, my life is nothing before those whom I serve. You must help the prince and Lady Yaleheart."

Misaki's will began to waver. Both options involved the loss of life. Is one option more right than the other? The swordswoman struggled wordlessly in her internal turmoil.

Malcolm snorted. "Enjoy killing yourself with the shield, eastern warrior." He said, before proceeding to torment Yurisviel further still. After some time, the man turned his attention towards the limp body lying yards away.

"Now then..." A shadowy forelimb clasped the unconscious prince tightly in his grip and drew the inert body close to his. "What a disgrace of a prince, Nighvicto boy," Malcolm uttered, eyeing Zenvix's blood-stained face with a malicious look.

The energy dome began to flicker, its form losing strength and becoming more transparent than translucent. Dylas smiled at the decision. "I wish you victory in the battle to come, Lady Alinksy." With one last silent glance at the aged knight, Misaki closed her eyes and tore them away from those of the veteran warrior. It had to be done. She thought.

There was no choice. Misaki grasped the hilt of her katana tightly and changed her stance to prepare for her next move.

Malcolm continued, his attention focused on the prince alone as his lady retainer struggled fruitlessly. "You have expended all you had. Unleashed every last arrow at me as the First Shot of Nox, yet not a single one found its mark. How did that feel?" He threw back his head and cackled, watching Yurisivel attempt to wrestle her arm out of the tendril's staunch grip. His hand closed in on Zenvix's neck, its fingers tightening across the sternohyoid region.

At that moment, the prince's eyelids flew open. "Expended all I had except this." In one decisive instant, Zenvix slammed his clenched fist down upon Malcolm's arm, its fingers still curled around the prince's neck. The fist made no contact on flesh and bone, yet the tissue ruptured all the same, spilling blood as the perforation drove its way through. Within that clenched fist, the shape of an arrow began to transpire.

Malcolm shrieked, doubling back his steps as he witnessed the arrow stuck through his right arm. "W-what? Impossible. You spent all your arrows. H-how did you.."

"I made my last arrow invisible right there, while you thought me unconscious," Zenvix pointed, referring to the spot he was lying on minutes before. "I knew from the moment my arrows failed to bypass your magic, that getting close to your physical body was the only way to win."

"And the only way to do that, is to ensure that you let down your guard long enough for me to sink just one arrow in," Zenvix finished.

A momentary silence befell the man as he wrangled with the unveiled truth.

"You fucking cheater."

The prince smiled. "How do you like my final parlour trick, Malcolm?"

"How did that feel?" Zenvix continued, echoing the man's last statement to him.

Except that Malcolm did not seem to be listening anymore. A blank expression overtook the man's countenance as he struggled to comprehend the princely figure before him. In his world view, the prince appeared sluggish and distorted. He looked on as Zenvix opened his mouth and a word came out, its intonation slow and terribly prolonged.

"How..." The prince seemed to have said.

How? Malcolm thought. How what? What the fuck are you saying?

Yurisiviel waved her hand in front of Malcolm's face, but the man's eyes were dazed and focused on something far away. Zenvix strode up, his blade pointed right at the man's neck.

"What did you do? He is an utter vegetable now," Misaki asked, her face alight with incredulous wonder.

"My last parting gift to him. That arrow I sunk into his arm was infused with more than one magical property. Invisibility, and reality decline." Zenvix explained.

"At this very moment, he is probably still trying to comprehend the second word of my last sentence to him."

"You mean the sentence, 'how did that feel?'" Yurisviel asked.

"Exactly. Reality decline slows down the victim's perception of, and reaction towards his reality, to a tiny fraction of the typical flow. As an example, the simple sentence I said to him would have been understood by his brain in roughly 1 second. But with reality decline, he can only fully perceive what I have said in a timespan inflated by 10,000 folds; in other words, 10,000 seconds or roughly 3 hours. His reaction towards my words is similarly delayed by the same magnitude."

Misaki's eyes widened. "That is...horrifying. You had such a trump card up your sleeve, yet you delayed it. Why?" she asked, her tone bearing a tinge of accusation.

Zenvix steadied his hand, which was shaking slightly. "As you could already tell, this magical property had immense power. But it is extremely intricate and complex to weave into the objects I touch. One wrong move and the arrow could easily implode, killing me in an instant from arcane backfire. I was only able to do it because I faked my coma, giving me sufficient time and focus to weave in the property without interruption," he elaborated.

"What should we do about him, Your Highness?" Dylas asked. The knight was already checking on Faelynn Erisbane, who apart from having suffered some superficial wounds, was still unconscious.

"We kill him." Zenvix replied simply. Without another moment of delay, his sword came down in a swift perpendicular slash, releasing Malcolm's head from his shoulders. "He is too dangerous to be left alive. And he must pay for the countless lives he took." The head rolled across the ground in a spurt of crimson, its vacant expression never left him.

"Your Highness, the general has awoken!" Dylas exclaimed. The group made its way to the knight's location. Though the coffee-coloured hair was in disarray and numerous laceration wounds covered her body, the heart-shaped face was unmistakable. Faelynn sat up gingerly, clutching her head with her right palm.

"Faelynn, are you alright?" Misaki asked gently.

"Misaki..." the general said, "You are here, thank Esheria. I came back early from the hunt to do my monthly prayers, when I heard a commotion from up above. Screams and shouting. Even as I drew my sword, he came. I-I wasn't a match for him. He tortured me, and said some really crazy things. I passed out after some time..."

"Prayers? This is a really huge hall just for the purpose of private worship," Yurisiviel commented. While Zenvix had noticed the gargantuan statue of the Goddess amidst other deity-like statues during his battle against Malcolm, he hardly had time to pay them any mind. Now, with the excitement gone, the golden splendour of these life-like sculptures was arresting.

"I see the Nighvictorian group is here as well. I did not expect your assistance, but my deepest gratitude all the same," Faelynn said. "Private prayer halls such as this are not uncommon among the nobility. Even Zila has one in the Palace of Esheria where she now stays as the prime minister. A special urn containing our ancestors' ashes was placed there before the Goddess's protection. She prays routinely as well for guidance from the souls of our departed ancestors."

"I see," Zenvix responded. "In any case, pardon me for making this request despite your injuries, General Erisbane, but Aderis had already orchestrated an invasion of Ceil by the savage beast tribes of the north. The invasion will commence in five days. I understand this is a lot to take in but-"

Faelynn raised a hand to stop the prince's explanation. "I have already heard your story back in the Hall of the Seven, Prince Nighvicto. You knew what The Council's final decision was," the general said. Zenvix's heart sank. Beside him, Misaki looked ready to intercede.

"But I, for one, believe you," Faelynn spoke. "I was skeptical back in the hall, but during one of the man's crazy ramblings, I distinctly heard the name 'Aderis'. Piecing two and two together, I guessed that he was sent by Aderis to eliminate me."

"And us as well, so that the invasion will garner a higher chance of success," Yurisviel replied.

Faelynn nodded. "Very well, I will mobilize the army."

"What about Zila?" Misaki asked.

The general brooded for a moment, before her eyes met the prince's in a searching gaze. "You people risked life and limb to save me, all in the name of protecting Ceil. I believe trusting that is the right call."

"Thank you," Zenvix said, his tone relieved.

Faelynn smiled as she stood up unsteadily, assisted by Misaki. "You best prove me right, Prince Nighvicto. Or else Ishva or no, I will duke it out with Misaki to have you thrown into the dungeons," she finished.

The group began to make their way back to the entrance of the underground prayer hall. As they neared the white and gold trimmed double-door, Zenvix had a sudden idea. "Yurisviel, could you-"

He turned to search for his lady retainer, only to see a growing patch of red spread itself across the woman's lower back, a long ebony sword having protruded cleanly out from behind. A scream resounded from Faelynn as a stunned expression took hold of Yurisviel's visage. She looked down, and drips of crimson spluttered from her mouth, coloring the ground with splatters of red.

"Doppelganger," Malcolm whispered. "My shadow magic utilizes shadows, not only my own. I planted a doppelganger within her sweet shadow; a remnant of my life force. As long as it lives, I cannot die."

As the man smiled wickedly from ear to ear, the group was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events. A blank buzzing occupied the canvas of Zenvix's mind as he struggled to comprehend what he had witnessed. "How does it feel to lose someone dear to you, oh prince?" Malcolm laughed, his high-pitched hysterics filling the chamber with a sinister cacophony. "I want you to experience a lifetime of pain."

"Shut the hell up!" Yurisviel screamed, as her fingers fumbled haphazardly over the ebony blade.

A look of surprise developed across Malcolm's face. "You can touch it?"

"I am a spirit given human flesh, scumbag," Yurisviel spat. She took hold of the ebony blade and mustering every ounce of strength in her being, the blade began to inch forward.

"Wait...what the fuck are you doing?" the man uttered, as the look of surprise warped slowly into fear. She tugged once again, and the blade moved forward once more. Yursiviel grunted in pain.

"No, Yurisviel, no..." Zenvix said, as a dawning realization engulfed him.

The bitch...she is pushing the sword deeper into her belly. What monstrous willpower; she's taking in all that pain, all for the chance to- Malcolm did not complete his thought.

"Now...you are in my range." Yursiviel said, with a blood-streaked smile. Mastering the remaining strength left in her right gauntlet, she inflicted her final blow - a punch of herculean strength right to the temple of the man, sending him flying to the golden statue opposite and crumbling the sculpture where he landed. A mountain of debris fell, burying Malcolm where he laid.