“Urkh…!”
A sharp, searing pain exploded through Azriel’s body.
He found himself slumped against the cold stone wall, every muscle locking up as if the air had been sucked from his lungs.
His heart clenched.
The agony spread like wildfire, blinding him.
He toppled to the floor, his body convulsing violently.
“Eukh!”
Blood gushed from his mouth, painting the stone beneath him as his eyes went bloodshot, wide and unseeing.
“Azriel!?”
“The hell!?”
Vergil and Celestina, frozen just moments before, snapped into motion, rushing to his side.
Azriel’s face had turned deathly pale, his skin ghostly, drained of life.
His body hit the ground hard, the thud echoing as his muscles spasmed uncontrollably.
Azriel’s mind was overwhelmed by the unbearable pain coursing through him.
He couldn’t think. He could only endure. Teeth gritted, his focus narrowed to the searing, unrelenting torment devouring him from within.
“Azriel! What’s happening!?”
Celestina knelt down.
“Get him on his side! Now!”
Vergil grabbed Azriel and rolled him onto his side, trying to steady his shaking body.
Azriel’s eyes darted wildly, locking onto Vergil’s.
His hand, trembling, latched onto Vergil’s arm, squeezing with the last of his strength.
Vergil froze, his eyes widening as if he’d understood something unspoken.
Without hesitation, Vergil placed his hand on Azriel’s head, his jaw clenched tight.
A sudden wave of cold swept through Azriel, numbing the fire inside him.
His consciousness flickered—vision fading, his surroundings blurring, the dim room twisting and warping.
And then, everything went black.
*****
Celestina stared at Azriel, who lay unconscious on the floor, shock coursing through her. It had all happened so suddenly. Just moments ago, she had been discussing with Vergil whether they should stay here, and then—
In the next instant, Azriel was convulsing, coughing up blood as if he were being torn apart from the inside.
She glanced at the blood pooled around him, still fresh, still warm.
His face… pale as death. His breath, shallow.
Who—what—did this?
There was no one around. No shadow, no enemy. Nothing.
Vergil let out a strained cough, covering his mouth as his eyes darkened.
“It… wasn’t hard to knock him out,” Vergil muttered, his voice tight.
“His mental defenses were gone. Completely.”
Celestina’s brow furrowed.
“A mental attack?”
Vergil shook his head. His face, grim, darkened even more.
“I have no clue.”
They exchanged a glance, both unsettled. If it was an attack, why only Azriel?
He was the most injured, sure, but that didn’t explain anything.
Eventually, Celestina let out a sigh as she stepped closer to Azriel.
“We should clean his face a little.”
It was covered in dirt and blood.
Vergil nodded solemnly.
“We should also feed him a health potion, just to be safe…”
Hearing Vergil’s words, Celestina hesitated.
She looked at Azriel intensely, weighing her options, before biting her lip and making a decision she thought she would never make.
*****
“Urgh…”
A groan escaped Azriel’s mouth.
Opening his eyes slightly, his vision was blurry.
After blinking a few times, it sharpened enough for him to regain his senses.
He felt the back of his head pressed against something comfortably soft, as if his entire body were wrapped in a warm blanket.
Blinking again, Azriel caught sight of a girl with silver hair stained with blood, her gray eyes intensely focused on him.
Both her hands pressed against his chest, emitting a soft white glow. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
“Celestina…?”
Her name slipped from his lips without thinking, and her head snapped toward his face, her eyes wide.
“You are awake…”
She looked relieved.
Realizing the position he was in, Azriel returned her gaze with an unreadable expression.
‘I would have been happy had it been any other moment in my life…’
Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
Celestina removed her hands from his chest, and the white glow disappeared.
As soon as it did, the comforting feeling of the blanket vanished.
Hiding his disappointment, Azriel slowly pushed himself up with one hand on the cold floor while Celestina supported him, holding his right arm, which ended at the wrist.
“How are you feeling?”
Azriel still felt like he wasn’t really here.
Honestly, everything felt like a distant dream as he recalled what had happened.
But…
Glancing around the room, he saw Vergil leaning against the wall, concern etched on his face, and Celestina supporting him.
But there was no Leo—the crying fog was gone.
Azriel looked at Celestina with a grim expression.
“…I have no idea.”
Truly, he had no idea what had happened—maybe later, but not now. His mind was too unfocused; he was simply exhausted.
Celestina and Vergil exchanged dark looks upon hearing his answer.
Even if Azriel didn’t know what had transpired, it didn’t make them feel any better.
“How long was I out for?” Azriel asked.
Vergil approached him.
“An hour, more or less.”
Azriel’s eyes widened slightly at his words. He snapped his head toward Celestina.
“You were constantly using your mana on me for an hour?”
Celestina blinked, confused, then nodded.
“You had consumed too many health potions, so this was the safest course of action.”
Azriel had a lot to say about that.
What if they had been attacked? What would have happened then? What about now?
They only had Vergil—who was technically the weakest of the three—left to fight.
But in the end, Azriel couldn’t complain; she had done all of that for him.
In fact, he felt nothing but gratitude, along with a twinge of guilt as he sighed.
“…Thank you.”
Celestina’s lips curved up.
“Of course.”
Turning his head toward Vergil, Azriel opened his mouth, but before he could speak, another voice echoed from the dark passage.
“Looks like you can’t catch a break no matter what you do.”
Footsteps echoed before a figure emerged from the shadows.
Solomon.
He was finally here.
His hair was disheveled, and his complexion appeared unhealthy, with dried blood on his nose, mouth, and even his eyes.
All three froze—not because of Solomon, but because of the person he dragged behind him like a bag of sand.
‘Zoran…’
Zoran, but what was left of him, at least.
Instead of the prideful figure Azriel had seen in the cave, the one before his eyes was a mere shell in comparison.
He had no legs, no arms, and no eyes—blood covered his face and hair, staining the black suit he wore, at least covering the sleeves that hid his missing limbs.
Azriel felt nauseous as he looked at Zoran.
Vergil turned his head away with a click of his tongue, his face twisted in disgust.
Celestina’s face also grimaced as she looked away.
It was too much.
In the end, Azriel looked away as well, his eyes meeting Solomon’s, who returned his gaze with an unsettling smile that grew wider despite his appearance.
“You look like shit.”