The courtyard was hell incarnate.
Corrupted Spirits collided with Alpha's ghost army in waves of shadow and flame. Cultists held defensive positions, chanting as blood magic flared—barriers shattering, reforming, shattering again. The cathedral's ancient stone walls cracked under the onslaught, masonry crumbling with every impact.
Raven landed at the center of the chaos.
A ghost lunged instantly—claws outstretched, mouth split too wide. Raven sidestepped, ignited Demon Flame in his right hand, and seized the spirit mid-lunge. It shrieked once before combusting, disintegrating into ash.
"You're helping them?" Azaelith's voice rang in his mind, incredulous.
"Pragmatic choice," Raven muttered. "If the cathedral falls, I'm exposed. Better the devil I know."
A heavier chain whistled toward him. Raven ducked beneath the swing, rolled, came up already hurling a fireball.
Direct hit.
Another ghost vanished.
Around him, cultists fought with desperate precision. One summoned three Corrupted Spirits at once—writhing, suffering entities that tore through ghosts with mindless fury. Another traced blood sigils through the air, launching crimson spears that skewered spiritual forms.
Still, Alpha's army was relentless.
For every ghost destroyed, two more surged through the breach in the barrier.
And at that breach—
Alpha.
Massive. Unstoppable.
Chains whirled like weapons of war, each swing pulverizing stone and spirit alike. A cultist strayed too close. Alpha's fist struck once—sending the robed figure crashing into the wall.
They didn't rise.
Casualty count: 1.
Raven scanned the battlefield with cold efficiency. The cultists were skilled but outnumbered. The ghosts were weak individually but overwhelming in number.
Alpha was the lynchpin.
Eliminate him, and the army would collapse.
But Alpha was beyond Raven's current capability.
He needed—
"Behind you!"
Raven spun as three ghosts converged. He Demon Stepped five meters back, reappearing beside a cultist clutching a bleeding shoulder.
"Fall back to the inner circle!" Raven shouted. "Funnel them through chokepoints!"
The cultist hesitated—clearly startled that a prisoner was issuing orders—then nodded and relayed the command.
The cultists began a controlled retreat, forming a defensive line at the cathedral entrance. Corrupted Spirits fused together, forming a grotesque barrier of tortured flesh and unstable energy.
Ghosts slammed into it.
The line held.
Barely.
Raven moved along the perimeter, eliminating anything that broke through. Enhanced strength. Precise strikes. Careful use of Demon Flame.
Managing stamina this time.
A lesson learned in the warehouse.
A scream cut through the din.
Another cultist was dragged into the ghost swarm—torn apart in seconds.
Casualty count: 2.
Then—
BOOM.
A shockwave erupted from the cathedral doors.
The Masked One stepped into the courtyard.
She moved with terrible grace, her mask gleaming in the firelight. Both hands were raised, fingers curled as if conducting an unseen orchestra.
And behind her—
An army.
Not ghosts.
Corrupted Spirits.
Dozens of them, bound completely to her will.
"PURGE THEM," her voice rang out, amplified by dark magic.
The Corrupted surged forward.
The battle shifted instantly.
Where the ghosts had once pressed forward, they were now overwhelmed. Stronger. More tangible. Utterly enslaved. The Corrupted Spirits tore through Alpha's army with mechanical efficiency.
Alpha noticed.
His attention snapped toward her.
Across the battlefield, their gazes met.
Recognition.
And fury.
"YOU," Alpha boomed, multiple voices layered together. "LUCIFUR WITCH."
The Masked One tilted her head. "Hello again, old friend. Have you come to lose another fight?"
Alpha roared—a sound that shook the ground itself—and charged, abandoning all other engagements.
Chains shot forward, extending impossibly far, snapping toward her like colossal serpents.
She didn't move.
Five Corrupted Spirits threw themselves in the way.
They were crushed instantly—obliterated—but they bought her time.
She raised both hands and began chanting in an unknown tongue.
A blood-magic circle flared into existence around Alpha. Binding runes burned crimson.
Alpha strained against invisible restraints. "THIS WON'T HOLD ME!"
"I know," the Masked One replied calmly. "It doesn't need to."
She snapped her fingers.
Twenty Corrupted Spirits swarmed Alpha from every direction—clawing, biting, tearing. Not to kill—spirits couldn't truly kill one another—but to overwhelm.
Alpha thrashed, each movement annihilating multiple attackers.
More replaced them.
Endless.
Raven watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified.
This was Lucifur's power.
Absolute dominion.No mercy.No hesitation.
Effective.
"This is wrong," Azaelith whispered.
"Effective isn't always right," Raven replied. "But it keeps you alive."
He turned back to the battlefield.
Without Alpha's command, the ghost army unraveled. Disorganized. Mindless.
Easy prey.
Then—
New energy signatures flared.
Raven's spiritual sight burned as white-gold auras flooded in from the northern entrance.
Holy energy.
Spirit Tamers.
They came in formation. Ten figures in black tactical gear, each bearing the emblem—circle with chained spirit. Leading them: Kirana Vex, her sharp eyes immediately assessing the chaos.
"Contact! Multiple hostiles—cultists, corrupted spirits, malicious ghosts!" She raised her hand, contract seal glowing. "Formation delta! Engage!"
Tamers spread out with military precision. Each summoned their contracted spirits—these were different from corrupted ones. Clean, vibrant, willing partnerships. Guardian spirits, elemental spirits, warrior spirits.
A tamer on the left summoned a spirit of fire—pure flame that incinerated ghosts with holy heat. Another summoned a barrier spirit, creating shields for the squad.
They were efficient. Deadly. And immediately hostile to everything—cultists, ghosts, and—
Kirana's eyes locked onto Raven.
Red eyes. Contract marking visible on his exposed arms.
"Hybrid!" she shouted. "Priority target!"
Two Tamers broke formation, rushing toward Raven.
"Run!" Azaelith urged.
"No." Raven ignited both hands. "I need to see their capabilities."
The first Tamer summoned a wind spirit—razor-sharp gusts that could slice through flesh. The second, a beast spirit—wolf-like, snarling, massive.
Raven Demon Stepped behind the first Tamer—2-minute cooldown be damned, this was necessary intel. Appeared point-blank, Demon Flame coated fist connecting with the Tamer's barrier.
The barrier held. Barely. Cracks spiderwebbed across the energy field.
The Tamer stumbled, shocked by the power. "He's strong—tier 3 equivalent!"
The wolf spirit lunged. Raven rolled, came up throwing a fireball. The spirit dodged—fast, agile.
This wasn't like fighting ghosts. These spirits were trained. Coordinated with their Tamers.
The wind Tamer recovered, sent a cutting gale. Raven raised a flame barrier—the winds pushed through, grazed his shoulder. Blood welled, but healing factor immediately engaged.
"You're outmatched!" Azaelith warned.
"Not trying to win. Just survive and learn."
The wolf spirit flanked, jaws snapping toward Raven's throat. He caught it—enhanced strength barely enough—threw it into the wind Tamer. Both went down in a tangle.
Raven used the opening to retreat toward the cultist defensive line.
But Kirana was there.
She appeared in his path, faster than he anticipated. Her contract seal blazed—and she summoned.
A spirit unlike any Raven had seen. Humanoid, armored in golden light, wielding a spear of pure holy energy.
"Guardian Spirit, tier 4," Kirana said coldly. "Surrender, hybrid. You're outmatched."
The Guardian thrust its spear. Raven barely Demon Stepped aside—appeared 5 meters away, panting. That was close. Too close.
"Holy energy will burn you if it connects," Azaelith reminded urgently.
Raven knew. He could feel it—wrongness radiating from that spear. It would hurt worse than any physical wound.
Before Kirana could press the attack—
Alpha broke free.
The Masked One's binding shattered. Corrupted Spirits scattered like leaves. Alpha stood, chains smoking, form crackling with rage.
"ENOUGH!"
He turned toward the Masked One—but saw the Tamers. New targets. New threats.
And he smiled. That terrible, too-wide smile.
"MORE PREY."
He charged—not toward the Masked One, but toward the Tamer formation.
Kirana's eyes widened. "Fall back! Regroup!"
But Alpha was too fast. Chains whipped out, grabbed two Tamers, slammed them together. The impact was sickening. Both went limp.
Tamer casualties: 2.
The Guardian Spirit intercepted, spear clashing against Alpha's chains. Holy energy versus malicious power. The clash created a shockwave that knocked everyone nearby off their feet.
Raven hit the ground hard, rolled, came up crouching.
The battlefield had devolved into complete chaos. Cultists fighting ghosts. Tamers fighting cultists. Alpha fighting everyone. Corrupted Spirits in the mix, some targeting ghosts, others targeting Tamers.
Three-way battle.
No—four-way.
Raven stood alone. Not aligned with any faction. Target of all.
A ghost lunged. Raven burned it. A Corrupted Spirit shambled close. Raven destroyed it. A Tamer's wind blade cut toward him. He dodged.
Survival. Pure survival.
"This is insane!" Azaelith shouted.
"This is war."
Then—cutting through the chaos—the Masked One's voice.
"ENOUGH!"
She thrust both hands skyward. The ritual circle in the cathedral courtyard—dormant until now—blazed to life.
Twelve points ignited. Twelve pedestals glowed.
And from each—a pillar of dark energy erupted.
The cultists immediately recognized it. They fell back, forming defensive positions around the circle.
The Tamers recognized it too. Kirana's face paled. "They're activating the ritual. Stop them!"
But the Masked One was already chanting. The language reverberated, echoed from nowhere and everywhere.