Even the birds in the sky refused to fly.
The earth itself seemed to weep in blood.
Lancelot's severed head had been impaled on a rusted stake and displayed in the center of the square. When the wind blew, his hair swayed gently, and his empty eye sockets stared into the void, as if still searching for something. This was not merely an execution—it was the Church's open declaration of dominion over the world.
Asmodeus clenched his teeth, trying to erase the image from his mind.
He failed.
The rage boiling inside him turned into vows of vengeance. His heart screamed for blood, knowing it would not be silenced otherwise. But he could not fight yet. Not now.
So he returned to the academy.
The moment he stepped into the training grounds, he reached for his sword. A firm hand seized his wrist before he could draw it.
Asmodeus looked up.
The man standing before him radiated danger. His blond hair fell to his shoulders, and the calm expression on his dark face spoke of someone for whom killing was routine. This was no ordinary student—this was a master swordsman.
"Who the hell are you?" the man sneered.
"What do you think you're doing?"
His eyes drifted to the hilt of Excalibur.
"This place is under the Church's authority. Do you really think you can train with Excalibur here?"
His voice dropped coldly.
"Try it, and you'll die."
Asmodeus did not look away.
"Then who are you?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Gael," he said.
"Merlin has spoken of you often. King Arthur choosing you—over his own son—to inherit his legacy…"
He paused briefly.
"I respected that decision."
The lesson began.
The instructor stepped forward.
"Today, we'll hold a small-scale tournament," he announced.
The murmurs ceased.
"No swords. Choose one of the weapons here and pair up."
Asmodeus already knew who his opponent would be.
His gaze locked onto Gael.
Asmodeus chose a spear.
Gael chose a dagger.
This was no longer a sparring match—it was a challenge.
"Show me what you've got, Arthur's heir," Gael said.
A dark aura wrapped itself around Asmodeus's spear. The ground trembled as he lunged forward without hesitation.
The first strike was deflected by the dagger.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Asmodeus attacked relentlessly. The spectators held their breath—this had ceased to resemble a lesson.
Then, a single mistake.
The dagger pierced Asmodeus's foot.
"I expected more from the heir of King Arthur," Gael said calmly.
Asmodeus retreated, gripping his spear with both hands.
He struck once—clean and precise.
Had Gael taken one more step forward, his head would have been severed.
"I am Arthur's heir!" Gael shouted.
Asmodeus did not answer.
He turned and left.
When he entered his room, Aeris was already waiting, arms crossed.
"So you put that dark-haired bastard in his place," she said.
"It was just a minor clash," Asmodeus replied.
"Did you buy the school books?"
He hesitated.
"The books?"
Aeris rubbed her forehead.
"Idiot… I feel like your guardian."
They went down to the city together.
That's when the harsh truth revealed itself—Asmodeus didn't have a single coin to his name.
"You buy the books," he said quietly.
"I'll get mine later. I'll walk with you."
Aeris stared at him.
"You're broke, aren't you?"
"…Yeah."
They bought the books.
As they left the library, the shadows closed in around them.
Asmodeus had no sword. Excalibur remained sealed.
Every corner, every window felt like the Church was watching.
Aeris silently drew her blade. She couldn't use magic, but her mastery was evident in every movement.
She deflected the first attack with ease.
Asmodeus stood behind her, guiding silently—calculating every strike, every opening.
The assassins were stunned.
This duo fought not with raw power, but with perfect coordination.
When the last enemy fell, both were gasping for breath.
"Good work," Asmodeus said quietly.
"This place rewards only steel and intellect," Aeris replied.
She then kicked one of the fallen men.
"Who sent you, dog?"
There was no answer.
Asmodeus decapitated the assassin in a single motion.
"What are you doing?!" Aeris shouted.
"Don't you see the emblem?" Asmodeus said coldly.
"It's Sabbah—the strongest assassin order on this continent. This won't end here."
The truth soon surfaced:
The newly appointed dean was collaborating with the assassins.
Then came the mission.
Investigate the dungeon where the legendary swordmaster Siegfried buried himself.
Refusal meant expulsion from the academy.
"This is a suicide mission," Asmodeus said, throwing the parchment aside.
Aeris nodded.
But they had no choice.
And the dungeon was not the only threat.
Unbeknownst to them, Sabbah had already set its sights on Asmodeus.
The mission required three people.
The third was already decided.
Gael.
And deep within the dungeon, an ancient presence awaited—one that would force them to make a choice they could never undo…
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