Mephisto stared at the pooling blood on the floor. Within the spill, he could see his reflection, a twisted face of rage. He recalled everything Kieran had told him before the boy entered Purgatorio.

The Human-Born's name... Alexander Lane, yes? Yes... Alexander Lane.

"Alexander Lane. I curse you and your wishes." He chuckled to himself, staring into his own glowing eyes. "When you fall, you will remember the rage of the devils you have wronged and killed."

Hours later, Alexander's mind continued to process different actions, control different movements, and enhance different limbs simultaneously. He kept Kieran pressed against him while he forced his legs up over and over again to take step by step over the red mountain. And while a literal firestorm blazed around them, Alexander kept his dark magic circulating over Kieran and himself, blocking them from the spare firestone that crashed and burned into them.

It was exhausting. But he couldn't stop now.

The sun had already begun rising, and within less than 10 hours, Furcas would be waiting for them on the mountaintop.

Alexander had already been climbing for what he thought to be two hours. Of course, it was tough to approximate time while climbing a mountain with another man on his back, using magic all the while.

But he brought himself to look down, staring down at the hundreds of meters down he had already hiked. His starving stomach sank further into his stomach out of fear. Wrath's army was nearly at the castle of Purgatorio, still marching down the valley through the literal firestorm.

He remembered Anastasia's impeding fear of heights and chuckled to himself as he brought himself to focus once again– she'd pass out just from a glance at their elevation.

There was still one-third of the mountain left to climb. Just one hour more, he told himself, carefully and willfully pushing himself further, pressing one foot against the ground above the other.

A slight whistling shrilled the air, piercing Alexander's ears before his eyes could process the sight. After all, it was nothing more than a blur that crashed into the stone of the mountain. Red rock and dust exploded after that impact.

Alexander nearly lost his balance and fell off the side, but forced himself back and to press against the wall of the mountain. All he could do was stare at the rising dust, bringing himself to face the new problem that arose.

He first saw its black wings of pure skin. Like a bat's, they were leathered and hardly hairy flesh, the thin and hollow bones protruding out of the back. But the rest of the body was a bigger issue.

It was a gargantuan furry beast. As it crashed into the side of the mountain, its maroon fur bustling in the wind with stone and dust and flame swaying around him, Alexander's human instincts reminded him that one should always run upon encountering a brown bear.

But Alexander already knew this beast was far more dangerous.

It pulled itself up and stood straight, locking its wings back and unveiling the beast's head. Two grand horns sat on his head, twisting as they curled upward, while his face sharpened to a snout. Even with the body of a strong bear, he resembled nothing like a Worldy creature.

His hands were the size of his grand head, his fingers extending into thick claws. A tail sat under his batlike wings, still dressed in fur and swirling while he brought his head down and met Alexander with his stale gaze of blood-orange eyes.

"Funny. I knew I smelled human."

Beyond all of its already terrifying features, it also spoke.

"The fuck type of chimera are you?!" Alexander found himself crying out.

The demonic monster took in a quick sniff. He pointed a finger at Alexander, his claw sitting just a foot away from Alexander's chest. "You're not human. You don't smell like one, at least."

Alexander swallowed his dry saliva.

The beast shifted his finger and aimed the claw at Kieran's head, resting on Alexander's shoulder. "This is the human, isn't it?"

"So what?" Alexander asked. He clenched his jaw. The monster didn't seem like one to use magical attacks or tricks, he thought. If he could just get his sword first, and be the first to attack, then he could have a chance of getting out of there alive.

"I cannot permit a human to live in here," the beast uttered with his booming voice. He lowered his hand and dropped his finger while stepping forward, closer to Alexander. His shadow loomed over Alexander and even blocked out some of the light of the burning sky. "I will have to end his life."

"Well, naturally, I'm going to have to fight you off to protect him."

"Naturally." A firestone crashed into the monster's back and burned away at some of his fur, yet still didn't earn a reaction for him.

"I'm holding the human right now, though. Can you give me a minute before we begin fighting?"

There was no response— only a glare— from the beast. Another firestone crashed into him, this time on his wing, ushering him to speak again. "Of course. I'm not a monster."

That was a relief.

"But considering how I'm giving you time to prepare yourself now, I suppose I should also warn you. Once our fight begins, I will no longer be kind or chivalrous. My combat will remain just, but I will move to kill you and your friend. There will be no mercy or hesitance."

"That's fair. Are you gonna go down the honorable route where we have to exchange names before we begin?"

"But of course!" he boomed out.

Alexander steadily nodded before stepping back a few meters and laying Kieran down against a stone. Luckily, on the grand empty mountain, there was no lack of space. Alexander could fight freely against the giant beast.

Kieran groggily groaned while Alexander separated himself. He gripped his sword and turned back to the beast.

"My name is Godfrey the Greater, the left hand of the king!"

Alexander stared at Godfrey while he drew his sword from his sheath. "The king being the Prince of Wrath?" he asked, letting out a light burp as he prepared himself.

"Correct! I was practically the first angel to join him in his rebellion against the heavens!" he shouted out. And as if enraged at it, he pulled his head back and screamed into the sky. "I was the first to fall with him!"

"Cool. I'm Alexander Lane, Virtue of Diligence." He coiled both hands around the sword's hilt and readied himself to deal or receive an attack. "I'm the one who killed Mammon."

Godfrey fell silent and brought his focus back to Alexander. A laugh escaped his chest through his wide fangs. "You claim to be honorable, yet you lie before our battle?! All of the UnderWorld knows the Prince of Greed was killed on Midgard, killed by a supposed Human-Born!" Godfrey again approached Alexander and leaned his head forward to lock eyes with the Virtue. "I do not take lies lightly, boy. Mammon's life was one ended by a Human-Born."

Alexander glared back, and without knowing, his eyes let out a quick glow of pale starlight. "I'm that Human-Born, motherfucker."

He focused on Kieran, leaving the whirling circle of shadows hovering over his mostly unconscious friend. It was then that he began the battle.

Each of Alexander's slices and thrusts did nothing more than scratch Godfrey, armored through his heavy fur and thick skin. It was a matter of a single minute before Godfrey rid Alexander of that light, pesky weapon.

He swept up his leg and kicked into Alexander's arm until the blade left his grip and fell. It crashed down the mountain and clattered over and over again until it was far out of reach, out of sight.

A battle of pure fists would only leave Alexander's bones crushed into powder, Alexander realized.

But before the battle resumed, Godfrey set his eyes on Kieran.

Alexander spun back to see what the demon could see. Kieran was standing, his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. Still, he stood strong and straight, almost as if he hadn't been brought to weakness before.

Godfrey understood what that meant. "You can fight on your own now, can't you?!" Godfrey cried out, his eyes blazing with joy as he now set his eyes on the living human.

His hand burst with a crimson blaze. The devil could use magic, after all.

Alexander's eyes widened as the devil launched a fireball of glowing crimson at the human boy.

For the past hours, Kieran's mind and soul had been floating in water. Although not literally, his being was drifting with the currents of death. He recalled all he had seen and done in Purgatorio.

He recalled once again coming to meet and touch his mother, to hear her voice and feel her touch.

"You have to live," she told him while she traced her finger up his arm. She smiled at her son, even amidst her suffering, and told him: "You have to keep living, so you may keep doing what is right. You have to help people."

She instilled hope in him and carried on with the same love she gave him each day. Even as Kieran was forced to release his grip on her damned soul, she didn't cry out. She didn't let herself.

Her love gave him the strength to carry on, past the struggles his body and mind went through.

By the time his eyes opened, he found himself standing, face to face with a whirling orb of flame. A mere instant before its impact, Kieran's hand shot up before his face. He opened his palm, and...

The magic halted. Kieran had transmuted the magic on instinct.

As Alexander stared at the blaze of magic disappearing and fading into light in Kieran's hand, he realized— what he was witnessing was something he never thought he would find outside of his corner of the World. A superb talent that radiated pure potential.

Kieran laughed as the magic energy circulated his body, his eyes shut and mouth agape. Through the struggles, the poison and the pain, he had bit his tongue, leaving his teeth bloodied.

He was skinny and frail, but he now stood with greater strength than he ever had before. Kieran's laugh rang out under Alexander's darkness as the storm raged around them. Scarlet flames danced around his body, crackling about his jagged lightning until he clasped his hands together, the light disappearing and fading from his self and culminating into his palms.

Even Godfrey was confused at the maddening sight. But as Kieran poured his own magic into his palms, the energy doubled.

It was then that he finally spoke. "Get ready to eat magic, prick!"

Kieran gripped the ball of magic in his hand and cocked his arm back. He launched the attack from his grip and let the blazing ball of blue and red flame go.

But before Godfrey began to move, before either demon could process what the human had done, Kieran's magic exploded. A dozen times more powerful than shrapnel from a grenade, the flames burst with individual explosions at and around Godfrey, unceasing until the radius around him had been replaced by nothing more than a cloud of black smoke.

"Kieran, what was that?!" Alexander cried out in elated shock.

"Alchemy!" he cried out with his arms stretched and aimed at the sky. "I transmuted his magic, made it my own, and sent it back to the bastard!"

"That was impressive, honestly," Godfrey commended. The dust and smoke cleared and he remained standing, his fur scorched a bit, but no more than the usual with fiery stones crashing into them.

One of those stones finally crashed into Alexander, knocking into his shoulder and sending him to the ground. He and his clothing may have been fire-resistant, but the pain rang deep in his muscle and joints, keeping him from standing for a moment.

Godfrey walked up to the ground Alexander.

"Kieran! If you can move!..." Alexander shouted out. "Get the hell out of here! Make it to the top of the mountain!"

"Not leaving you, mate! Not when I can finally fight!"

Godfrey forced his fist down onto Alexander, who caught it with both hands and struggled to keep it from his crushing his skull.

"You can't fight on your own yet! Just..." Alexander weaved away from the beast and left its fist to crash down onto the ground. He slithered outward and got back on his feet, clenching his fist and pouring out pure and dense magic energy around it. "Just go! You need to live, Kieran! Please..." he choked out. He danced back and forth with Godfrey, attacking in his blindspots and keeping the demon from dealing a blow.

"Live!" Alexander screeched.

Kieran furrowed his eyebrows. Their priority remained the same. Even if Kieran couldn't accept his failures or forgive himself, he still had to move. He clenched his jaw and ran past Alexander, leaving the battling demons behind.

Alexander thrust out his left arm into Godfrey's back. Two sounds were heard, one right after the other. The first was a light crunch, and the second was a firm crack.

Pure heat radiated within Alexander's hand, leaving his bones and blood and filling his muscles and nerves and cells with singeing pain itself. Alexander had never forgotten the sensation of a broken bone, but he could never tolerate it.

He fell to his knees and shrieked in pain, before bringing his focus back to the demon. Godfrey drove into Alexander with his shoulder, his whole weight, and knocked him into the mountain wall.

Time and time again, almost unceasingly, Alexander pushed himself up to stand and fight. His knees were already bleeding, the sleeves on his sweater were torn. His hands were dirtied and calloused, his fingertips reddened with blood and crushed skin.

He never imagined he, as an already deceased spirit, would be in desperate need of a shower.

But that concept slipped from his mind—just as all else did. There was only one thing to concentrate on. His eyes had fixed themselves on the demon and his mind only told him one thing. 'Win.'

Spit and saliva burst from his lips as he tried to bring oxygen to his lungs through his shaky breaths. Winning in this circumstance was the same as killing. 'Kill demons.' For him, it was the same as chopping wood and carrying water. It was all he had to do.

Still, his body was hesitant, each of his limbs trembling as his eyes swirled in his blurry and manic thoughts.

'I can control it.'

Even so, nothing was facing his way, nothing looking in his direction. The light of the sun hadn't crept up on the altitude yet, and there was no form of luck for him, no glimmer of victory.

"But I have to."

Those were the only words he muttered to himself, forcing a jolt through his spine and forcing himself back to his previous ferocity, persuading his very instincts to get up. The situation was grim, but he couldn't run away now.

Alexander was nothing but a loose soul in hell. Another of Godfrey's attacks could shatter him in an instant. But all he could do was keep his instincts in check, advance with all the courage he could muster.

Godfrey's words still strung inside his heart. His fate was death? That loss was unchangeable, inavoidable for Alexander?

Alexander took in a sharp breath through his bloodied teeth. If they didn't stand at the center of the UnderWorld, Alexander would've told Godfrey to go to hell. After all, the Demon-Born didn't care what his 'fate' was— whether it was a victorious triumph over the devil's left hand or the bitter and cold defeat of death.

Both were nothing more than two sides of the same coin to Alexander: the very thread of fate he rejected.

Once again, Alexander's eyes turned to a glowing white. With each of those seconds he spent in his combined anguish of body and mind, he inched closer to his core– to the demon that lingered within his black heart.

He stared at his hand as his skin blackened, each cell hardening and turning to scales. Just as in his battle with Mammon, only a portion of his body shifted. But every ounce of his energy multiplied and overflowed. Even in his bruised and battered feet, pure life spiraled into each step and tense movement.

No, not pure. It was new, but still demonic. That was what he reminded of himself as he fought every instinct and kept control of his fervent body.

A horn burst past his head and his hair, this time both of his eyes brimming with white light.

Godfrey froze as he stared at what looked like a rabid animal. Drool left Alexander's lips while his glowing eyes burned into Godfrey's being.

He clenched his clawed fist and began the battle once again.

Godfrey was reminded of the sight of glowing eyes, one that instilled fear in him and resuscitated some of his worst memories. He feared that this day would become another of those memories as he watched Alexander's movements explode in speed and each of his punches and thrusts pick and burn at his fur and skin.

For once, Godfrey's size had put him at a disadvantage.

Even as the monstrous beast slammed into Alexander and pummeled his body into the stone mountain, the Human-Born didn't cease and only got back up with more speed and fervor.

Without a moment's hesitation, Alexander thrust out his black hand and drove it into the center of Godfrey's chest. His rough and scaly skin didn't halt at the demon's fur. It broke past it and the skin and muscle beneath it, bursting past his organs and digging in.

Godfrey froze, while his raised fist began to drop to his side.

He slowly looked down, staring at Alexander's outstretched hand, dug into his chest. His fingertips and knuckles and even his hand as a whole were deep in the demon, leaving only his wrist to collect the dripping blood that escaped the soon-to-be corpse.

"You became your own weapon?" he asked.

Alexander coughed out his dry throat and brought himself to speak. "I became what I had to. To kill you."

"I see. That is the warrior you are, then." Godfrey spoke, nodding in his understanding. "I was wrong. Perhaps I should have killed you as soon as I caught your scent. I fear that one day you'll be able to bring down everything, including my master. But not yet. Not while I still draw breath."

"Huh?!" Alexander cried out.

Godfrey once again extended his hand to Alexander, his massive hand coiling around Alexander's neck. "I am the left hand of the king," he repeated. "You think a destroyed gut will be enough to destroy me?"

Alexander pulled his arm out of Godfrey's gut and shot it into the demon's arm, breaking past his muscle fibers and crashing into his wrist and bone. He repeated, again and again until he crushed the bone and released the demon's grip.

Godfrey's severed and destroyed hand released its grip on Alexander's throat, and without the waste of a moment, Alexander ran.

He had to escape. Godfrey was his fear, and Furcas was his hope. With his newfound speed and strength, he ran from side to side, jumping up between mountain ledges and forcing himself closer and closer to the precipice of the mountain.

Alexander knew Godfrey would pursue him, but he couldn't win as is. There had to be another way, he told himself. Somehow, some miracle was needed for Alexander to kill the demon.

And it was only a matter of minutes before Alexander came face to face with a silver boot on his climb. He stared up with wide eyes and met an armored man, a knight with a handsome and soft face covered with a grey beard.

"Well, you boys are early," he said, jabbing his elbow at the boy who stood at his side. Kieran. "I met Shadowfax already. What's with the girl?"

"It's a long story!" Alexander shouted out. "But I'm a bit too busy to explain!"

Furcas looked down at Godfrey on his ascent, flying up with his wings and pushing himself up with stones. He was weakened, it seemed.

That was confirmed when Furcas laid his eyes on Godfrey's punctured stomach. "I see. It's good to see you, my boy."

"It's good to see you, too, Furcas," Alexander spat out as he pulled himself up. His energy was quickly fading, his eyes and horn and scaly skin fading back to human normalcy. "Can you do me a favor? And handle this guy?" he asked between his exhausted breaths.

"Do you even have to ask? It's a knight's duty to protect those in need."

Alexander chuckled, even as he faced Godfrey finally catching up and standing level with them.

Godfrey paused, his demonic eyes widening as he met Furcas. Blood continued to escape his stomach, but that wasn't the source of his agony. He looked down at the knight, his face creasing and twisting with fear.

"You... I don't fear you..." he told Furcas.

"That's nice."

"I don't!" Godfrey shouted out, his magic energy exploding and bursting outward like a rabid flame set to consume all that surrounds it. "My powers have increased since the last time we met! You, the knight among demons!... You will perish by my hand, as I proclaimed all those years ago!"

Furcas smiled. He gripped the sword on his hip and unsheathed it, his plate and chain armor clinking with each of his slow and slight movements. "I let you live and you still hold a grudge against me? Seems like you've wasted the past four hundred years, then."

The knight dismissed Alexander to move behind him, silencing him all the while.

Furcas raised his sword to the sky, the blade creeping with shadow. Darkness itself began to spread from his fingertips and flowed up the hilt and the blade until the entire sword had turned pitch black, all except the tip.

The tip began to glisten with a white light, like a star bursting its pale glow to all corners of the universe.

With a deep exhale, he cleaved the sword down onto the air, sending the ray of light to sever all before him. The glow exploded until all Alexander and Kieran could see was pure white. All they could hear was a single cry, a simple whimper leaving Godfrey's lips.

In the next second, the light faded and Godfrey still stood.

"No..." was all the demon could utter, before his being split in two. The two halves of the furry demon crashed down into opposite sides, but there was no blood— nothing for that matter. Furcas' light had seared all that could spill and tear, leaving only a clean cut to destroy the demon.

"The fallen angel has been cleaved in two," Furcas muttered aloud as he sheathed his white blade and placed it back onto his hip. He turned back to Alexander and the travelers with a smile.

He smiled. "It's good to see you both doing well."

Alexander and Kieran couldn't help but chuckle at hearing that. 'Well' was an unfortunate overstatement.