Even though the night had been full of chaos, lake Elaine kept itself still and calm. So seemed the Abhean castle as well on top of the hill right next to it, only being wrapped within a thick fog. James found the slightest bit of humor in the eerie silence compared to whatever was happening on the inside but instead kept moving his injured men to safety.

Diarmuid walked through the empty ballroom after cuffing the unconscious Tuatcnoc. He looked outside from one of the windows, yet the fog was in his way. Noticing the curtains, he gently grasped them and then proceeded to rip them and use them as bandages. He could barely stand the pain from the burns on his arm. Fortunately, when he opened the door, or rather, breaking it, he found himself near the main stairs.

"Mister!" A pair of voices called out.

Diarmuid turned and saw Slacume and Orel hurry to him.

"You two. Glad to see you safe."

"What happened to you?" Orel noticed the wraps.

"I got myself into some hot trouble," Diarmuid tightened them. "What about you? Where have you been?"

"After we got separated, we tried to find the mage that cast this bound field," Slacume explained.

"So, you didn't find him?"

"I was just about to say," Slacume continued. "We figured he was in the basement after finding ourselves there. The other cultists ambushed us, but Mr. Park and Isao said they would handle it."

"You found Park? Then there's nothing to worry about."

"Slacume," Orel called.

"What?"

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

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

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 scratched his chin. "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 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!" Diarmuid asked.

"Don't move!" They kept their aim.

"Mathew, just tell me what happened." Diarmuid dropped his shoulders.

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

Diarmuid had a hard time processing what could have happened.

"What should we do?" 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, standing next to Mathew.

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

"Took you a while." Mathew sneered.

"So you sided with these terrorists?"

Mathew shot next to Diarmuid's foot.

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

"From what? You were a full citizen the last time I checked."

"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! 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. Do you want to set us back to feudal times by taking over the government, undoing everything we have established? Did you really think this through?"

"I'll blow your head out!" Mathew gripped the trigger.

"Wait," Lecter pulled the gun away.

"Don't stop me!" Mathew snapped.

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

"Hmph, do what you want." Mathew stepped back.

"And what did that help you? Last time I checked, all of your conservation areas are still next to factories, your benefits are next to nothing and some of your skins hang on museum walls." Lecter pointed out.

"At least we tried, and we still do. Even if the progress is slow, we keep trying. There are no shortcuts to progress, or at least not good ones."

"But now we got our chance! Chance to try and make progress! A better tomorrow with none of the wait! How about you join-"

"Like your little overseer put it: Cut the shit."

"Huh?" Lecter made a face.

"Again, you're not thinking this through. Are you going to turn sides after some people come and whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Are you seriously that gullible? They are terrorists!"

"They are telepaths, just like us! They understand our pain, and we do theirs! Our bond is stronger than any family's or patriot's!"

"And that counts the monster that they summoned?"

"Watch your mouth! Lord Vortigern is a savior!" 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." Slacume realized in horror.

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

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

"And now you are sold to him, huh? Do you even know what his plan is? The queen might look pretty but she hates revolts you know? If you don't want to end like that duke, you better give up now."

"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 him 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 did not help that the two aimed for his head and chest. Diarmuid could barely keep himself from falling back.

"Too bad for you! We got way more bullets than you got mana!" Mathew laughed.

Back in the underground, Isao had made no progress in defeating Eargaoth. He had backed himself against a wall as Eargaoth approached. Any cut, swipe, and jab merely coagulated back together while his wounds bled properly.

"This is all too similar." Isao huffed.

"So, you couldn't even kill that useless pest, 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 being thrown at you.

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

"Only when you lose that capacity can you feel how unfair the world is!" Eargaoth's struck with unwavering fury.

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

Isao lit Tomoe with sparks of electricity. Eargaoth stepped back as a stray bolt burned parts of his wrist. Yet, the wound did not heal.

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!"

"You are the one who will fall! I will rise again and again! Until all my enemies are destroyed!"

Eargaoth gripped his sword with both of his hands. Blood flowed to the blade, growing it to twice the size. The veins grew morbid as the whole edge began to pulse frantically like a stressed heart.

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.

That was until a small whisper reached his ear.

"...Eargaoth," Deasdùn groaned.

Eargaoth's eyes veered past Isao, where Deasdùn still lay on the ground. Even though he could not hear what he said, a short message read out in his mind.

"That's enough, Ergie." Deasdùn pleaded softly. "Let us go to hell together."

Reading the message made Eargaoth wish to open his hands, yet, they could only tighten. Even if Eargaoth wished otherwise, he could not disobey the order he put on his soul. To fight until it burned out. The last thing he could do was simply finish his fight with honor.

I am sorry, brother," Eargaoth made one last swing.

Isao concentrated all of his will and power and lunged forth. Eargaoth's swing was wide and fast, but Isao had the reach. Before the sword could sink into his side, Isao's blade sliced into Eargaoth's neck. Using the last bits of his strength Isao pulled it through and chopped the head off. Lighting traced his swing, burning the wound shut. The head snapped off and rolled to the ground with a satisfied smile.

Deasdùn could only return the favor as he slumped to the ground and passed with a warm smile.

Watching the body fall apart, Isao had nothing to say. Though he was tired, he could not spare strength when honoring someone's last wishes. He whipped off the blood from his blade, sat down, and gave both of them a prayer. He did not honor them as a monk but as a fellow warrior.

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. He barely felt anything at all.

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

"If it is more than relentless violence, then I truly do not understand it," Oberon 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, arrived thanks to all the zombies falling limp everywhere.

"Who are you?" The group pointed their guns at Vortigern.

"That is an excellent question," Vortigern said without even glancing at them.

"Lord Lionel!" Gotthold gasped.

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

Lionel felt the tips of his fingertips again, but also all the broken ribs. He rose steadily, heaving and still dripping blood.

"I heard no bell." Lionel spat some blood and teeth. "Oberon, activate Coille Transaction."

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

"Do it." He insisted, rubbing off blood from his lip.

"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. Then he hit the wall. Jessie and others took cover from the sudden rumbling.

Vortigern fell to his knees but only a moment. Lionel was in front of him by that point. He punched him again, slamming him against the wall. Again and again like a bouncy ball.

Vortigern grabbed Lionel's hands. Lionel did the same with Vortigern's wrists, crushing the armor.

"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 him.

Vortigern responded by swinging Lionel to the other side of the hall. Unsurprisingly, Lionel walked it off and jumped forward. Vortigern dodged Lionel's dropkick and kicked him away. Lionel stopped himself from sliding on the floor but the hit still hurt.

"Lord Lionel!" Gotthold yelled.

"Kiku?" Lionel noticed.

"Listen to the man, at least for a moment!" Gotthold could not bear seeing him hurt.

"...Fine." Lionel sighed.

Lionel fixed his loose 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's a bit hard offer to accept, even less for the queen."

"I was not giving an offer. I will slaughter everything and anything in your land if she will not appear."

"Well, you give a point, but how do I know you won't do just that?"

"A soul vow on myself to never hurt or kill any living being as long as I live."

"That sounds too good of a deal."

"Then I shall do it now."

Vortigern stripped off his armor and revealed his bare chest. He pointed his sharp finger at his heart and began carving out symbols with his sharp 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, forever and true."

"I am impressed, but, how about your underlings?"

"I have my own solutions to that." Vortigern glanced at the others. "They cannot hear me, correct?"

"I think so." Lionel understood.

"I can erase everyone that bears my mark."

"Really? But what about the vow?"

"Let us say that I do not kill them, just change them a little."

"Could you, maybe, spare those that didn't turn to your side?" Lionel negotiated.

"So you wish to spare them? I see. It is possible."

"Then, do it." Lionel frowned. "I don't need traitors in my castle."

"You better be a man of your word then." Vortigern snapped his fingers.

"I am."

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 what was once his face. 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, 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 fair as you."

The sudden sound of a snap echoed in Largaoth's mind. His ring gave him a jolt, and a tingly feeling passed through him.

His whole body began to glow with an orange hue like it was burning itself. As the glow intensified, his body cracked and broke like porcelain.

"The ring! What is happening to me?" Largaoth asked in agony. "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 could not even lay the man to rest. Largaoth's death also released the castle from the fog. The police and ADF took the moment and surged inside.

On the staircase, a similar event occurred. Along with many previous guards scattered around the castle, Mathew and Lecter began to disintegrate.

"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.

Their hands fell off, and they would no longer hold anything. Soon the cracks reached their chest, and finally their head. Diarmuid could only watch as his men turned surely but painfully into nothingness. Within moments, they were dead, leaving only weapons and clothes, and sadness.

"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 reversed the magic inside the bodies of those who followed him. Though he did not think much of his followers, he felt the need to compensate them for their efforts, even if they were not going to see it. Without mentioning it, he also severed the pact of every telepath so their curse would finally be broken.

Diarmuid climbed the steps to see his fallen men, but his attention went to the scenery opening from the windows. It was no longer obscured by the fog, but something much stranger was afoot in Lake Elaine.

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

Slacume and Orel gathered at the window as well. The three saw the same thing; a glowing yellow light shining from under the water. As it became brighter and brighter, a large shape appeared in the water Something was rising. Something grand. 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 noted.

"Do we head on foot?" Norman asked.

"No, we will enter from the roof." Agatha pointed.

"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 from the control room.

"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, Ándras 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 like a mirage. It left the group falling 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 did not tip as they landed on it.

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

"Sounds like it," Ándras cleaned his ears.

"Our cooperation ends here," Agatha said. "We have our 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. Those who used combat spells prepared them, while others drew their guns out. The footsteps reached the roof before Ándras or Norman could even get a word out.

"Glad to see you here, Spec," Diarmuid emerged from the door.

"Oh, it's you guys," Fleming lowered his gun.

"Who are the others?" Conrad noticed.

"Orel!" Norman turned his head.

"Seems the party members have all been found," Agatha watched as the three hugged each other. "Captain Cumhaill, status report." She 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?"

"I have only heard rumors but people call him 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." He took out his radio and turned it on. "Ramsay, do you hear me? Over."

The sound of static was depressing to hear at that point.

"Diarmuid, is that you? Over." Jessie tuned in.

"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."

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

"Sir Lionel is...Safe. We are with him in the third-floor hall. Over."

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

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

"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 third-floor hall," Agatha ordered.

"Sure," Slacume nodded.

As the Spec, Diarmuid, and Slacume walked down the stairs, Orel, Norman, and Ándras 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?" Ándras frowned.

"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 the 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..." Ándras plugged his ears.

"I think we got plenty of it," Norman sighed. "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?" Ándras asked frantically.

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

Back at the 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 is here and wants to see the queen as a peace condition of sorts. 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 so? 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 shook his head.

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 gave a thumbs up.

"You call this under control?" Agatha looked around her.

"All threats have been taken care of." Lionel nodded confidently.

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

"This is beyond your responsibilities, Colonel Agatha," Lionel's smile waned. "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," he said.