All the people in the front garden stared at the demon, each of them lost in their own thoughts. *Who is this?* To them, it was a complete mystery—a random individual arrogantly proclaiming that Bilmoth wouldn't do any more harm. However, they also knew that now wasn't the time to ponder this. They all felt it deep in their souls: for the first time, Bilmoth was truly injured by this mysterious man.
"Arrogant for a fledgling, are you not?" Bilmoth snapped, focusing all his attention on the demon.
"My place in the hellish hierarchy matters very little in the material world," the demon said calmly, morphing its right lower elbow into a blade. "As does yours," it added, pointing its morphed arm at Bilmoth, who mirrored the action, morphing his own lower elbow into a blade.
"I'll show you that it still does," Bilmoth retorted, his stance poised for battle. The demon regarded him with subtle curiosity for a moment before readying itself to end this confrontation.
Meanwhile, Mar and Mincs nodded to each other, silently communicating their readiness for the final stretch of the battle. Orian simply huffed, briefly glancing up at the dragon above before refocusing on the impending conflict with a steeled look in his eyes. Tension hung thick in the air as they all tensed their bodies, preparing for the inevitable clash. Then, with a single step from Bilmoth, they all charged forward, ready to determine the outcome of this battle.
**Somewhere else in the estate**
Bits of rubble, debris, and dirt cluttered the cobbled ground, doused in hellfire. In the midst of this chaos, a young elven woman lay on the ground, slowly stirring awake. Zee's entire body felt hot, as if she were on fire underneath her skin, the kickback from using her hereditary ability. Slowly, she stood up, her body aching with every movement. She gripped her right shoulder, where the pain was most intense.
"Where am I?" she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible amidst the turmoil around her. Her eyes widened in worry as she glanced down at herself. "I'm not..." she trailed off, her mind racing with confusion and panic. Searching frantically, she scanned the area for someone—or, more accurately, something.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed scorched fur, thick as a wolf's and dark as the night sky. "Lance!" she exclaimed, her heart skipping a beat as she ran over to the razorhoove lying on the ground, his fur singed by hellfire. Lance, with his serpent-like eyes, watched Zee as she approached, kneeling down next to him.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with worry. "I am fine," he replied with a nod, though he hesitated as he attempted to stand, ultimately settling with sitting on his four legs. "I will not die, but I doubt my ability to continue fighting," he added, acknowledging his inability to stand.
Zee let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goddess, you aren't dead," she said softly before scanning the area once more. "Where did that demon who helped us go?" she asked, her memory hazy after the burst of bright light.
"I do not know," Lance replied solemnly, his gaze fixed on the dragon above. "But I feel as if we will soon find out," he added, a sense of anticipation lingering in the air.
Zee also looked up at the strange dragon looming above, her mind racing with thoughts. *That doesn't look anything like the one we saw at Moonveil,* she thought to herself, recalling the translucent dragon made of blue flames that Victoria had summoned to defeat Eirisse.
Suddenly, the dragon's blazing eyes turned toward them as it roared, descending rapidly toward the ground. Its body moved as if swimming through the air, but despite its ominous approach, Zee and Lance remained still, sensing that its wrath was directed elsewhere.
Meanwhile, crawling out from under a pile of debris and rubble, the demon of hatred emerged. He was missing half of his right leg, his clothes torn apart, his body scorched, and bleeding from the mouth. With defiance burning in his eyes, he leaned back against a large piece of debris, his arms outstretched as his blue horn glowed. He sent out as many thin blue slashes as he could muster, aiming them at the approaching dragon.
The dragon, however, seemed unfazed by the attacks. Its shimmering scales repelled the slashes effortlessly. *Will you die?* a voice echoed in the demon of hatred's mind. *Looks like it. Why? You sad about seein' me go or something, kid?*
Xain sighed heavily as he stared down at the wooden floor of the room inside his mind, sinking into the cushions of the odd-looking couch. "How could I not be? You apparently came back to life to save me," he muttered, his gaze shifting to the strange window that displayed what the demon of hatred was experiencing.
*Heh, I didn't come back to life to save you, kid. I simply wanted to teach that knight bastard a lesson. I just happened to save you as a part of that,* the demon of hatred replied with a chuckle, increasing the rate and power of his slashes beyond his limits, causing his eyes to bleed.
"It felt nice... meeting someone who felt what I did. It felt like I found a family member or something," Xain said, his voice tinged with a sense of longing as the demon of hatred smirked, his death rapidly approaching.
*You're a very weird kid, you know? Who the hell would want anything in common with a demon?* The demon of hatred retorted as the slashes ceased and his horn stopped glowing.
"Can you come back to life again? Or are you going to live in my mind like Erkie is?" Xain asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Or was because he isn't even in here right now," he added, contemplating the absence of Ercale.
The demon of hatred sighed. *I doubt it. Maybe if you feel that intense Hatred again, but I wouldn't count on it,* he replied, his tone resigned.
"So this is it? You come to life, take over my body, and just leave, not explaining anything?" Xain questioned, his frustration evident.
The demon of hatred nodded, just moments away from death, as the dragon's breath of hellfire loomed inches away from him. *If I could, I would, kid. If I could, I would. But I do agree with one thing you said, kid.* As the fire began to consume him, Xain peered through the strange window, listening to what would likely be the demon of hatred's final words.
*It was nice meeting someone who felt like me,* the demon of hatred uttered before succumbing to the flames, his presence fading from Xain's being.