The circumstances, that ought to have been given due consideration before launching a rescue operation, were being mulled over a tad too late by Mikhail.
'The question I have yet to answer is, did that Demon Noble took over Khamael's body, or simply transformed into it? What if it's the real body that was manipulated earlier?'
"Lord Mikhail."
'Malphas definitely turned its engrossment towards my brother when it was done with me. I feel anxious thinking regarding what could've happened to Khamael. Stop, just stop doubting. I have the utmost trust in the Rounds' abilities, so I should stop coming up with distressing deductions.'
"My Lord?"
'But what if... What if he truly lost? What if he's fallen? What do I do?'
"Mikhail Percival!"
Sarakiel was beginning to get worried about the austere mien that Mikhail was sporting. Thus, after failing to get his commander's attention twice, the knight hollered Mikhail's full name in hopes of snapping him out of his immersion. To his relief, it did.
"Wh-what?" The older Percival responded, his eyes shaky as he was gritting his teeth.
"Is something the matter, my Lord?"
"Although I told you to have faith in Khamael, here I am, doubting my belief."
Sarakiel surveyed the nearby shore by amplifying the view of the sections with his eyesight alone, urging Mikhail to do the same. The Duke merely wanted to ask some questions while taking into account the actual situation.
"How much time has passed since you removed yourself from the battle?"
"Approximately fifteen minutes."
"Only fifteen minutes?"
"Yes, the second I escaped up to this instant, it happened within a quarter of an hour."
"It became clearer to me what position we hold in this conflict." Sarakiel could simply clench his fists at the suffocating dilemma that they were experiencing.
Quietude, again, descended between the two.
"Sarakiel"
Sarakiel was startled when Mikhail suddenly spoke. His nerves were still tense from realizing the gravity of the crisis that the Emperor imposed on solely three knights.
"Y-yes?"
"We should brace ourselves for the worst. I did convince myself that Khamael was fine. However, I can solely dream that that is the case." Mikhail attempted to mask his forlornness with a sturdy voice. Withal, his companion noticed the desperation behind it.
Sarakiel gave his commander a tap on the shoulder to somehow provide him with assurance.
"As long as we persist, the three of us can leave this place with our lives intact. For now, let's forge with caution and proper reason, alright?"
Mikhail jounced his head once to show his consensus. In times as such, he was grateful for his subordinate's brazen trait of ably standing up to his ramrod authority.
"My Lord, Malphas brought his minions with him, that's why we didn't have any pursuers, but I was not expecting for the coast to be empty likewise." Sarakiel said, utterly curious of the happening.
"This area was crawling with thousands of demons and monsters. Where in the world are they?"
The two knights nodded at each other, then resumed on their run until their feet touched the sandy beach of the south. They hurriedly scanned their surroundings to confirm their observation.
"There really are no creatures in sight."
"Good riddance. We can focus on searching for Khamael."
"Well, that's assuming that he's still here, My Lord." The retort naturally came out of Sarakiel's mouth that his captain was left unresponsive. The Duke was unaware that he's rubbing salt on an open wound.
'I do not want to entertain the thought that a body just doesn't exist anymore, explaining why this land is barren. I take back what I said. Sarakiel needs to shut his mouth.' Mikhail grumbled to himself.
Although Ikdes was dubbed as a small island, that was still in comparison with the enormous Bellum continent. The knights would take roughly half an hour to cover an insignificant portion of the southern coastline in their quest.
"I'll deal with the forest, and you inspect the rest."
"Roger that, commander."
Devoid of complaints, both of them went on to do their respective tasks.
Halfway into his scouting, Mikhail spotted an unusual object hardly concealed by a bunch of unhealthy bushes. It was quite far, a kilometre or so away. Hence, with the decreased efficiency of his vision and the unsettling darkness of the forest, the man could only make out an unrefined silhouette.
"Sarakiel!" Mikhail shouted to get his comrade's attention. When he acquired it, Percival pointed his right index finger in the direction of his discovery. Duke Helian understood the command, so he immediately sprinted en route the target.
They reached their goal in no more than a couple of minutes, heaving their lungs out on the way. The identity of the object became apparent to them, even without further scrutiny.
"Khamael..." Mikhail uttered breathlessly, seeing how mangled the body of his brother was.
The entirety of Khamael's body was almost incinerated, barely retaining its shape. His lower limbs were narrowly attached to his torso by merely thin threads of skin. His frame was riddled, certainly from the incisions by the weapons that were tousled on him. Also, there were several bruises and cuts visible on what's left unburnt of his flesh.
Mikhail's knees gave in, yielding him to genuflect beside Khamael. He ached to hold his brother in his arms. Withal, he worried with respect to hurting him any more than what he suffered.
Meanwhile, Sarakiel diverted his stare from the scene. He was on the verge of tears, unlike his usual demeanour. It was difficult for him to ideate the extent of anguish that his fellow knight had endured.
At his young age, he already went through a lot of ordeals in his service with the Knights of the Round Table. Together with him was his closest and same-age confidant, Khamael Percival. They were not a family, but he valued his comrade as his brother.
'I thought we were invincible. No enemy has dealt us with this kind of atrocity. The instant deaths of the former knights are another story. They were not treated like animals!'