One vs Four

While watching Afilada, bloodlust and animosity were on full display. He looked at him with indifferent eyes and thought:

Well, it's not surprising… after all, this is the first time Servus has shown even a fraction of his full strength to us all.

He may seem like the calculated, cold type— which he is— but more importantly, he's a psychopathic killer. His only goal is to cut down as many powerful people as possible. The only way he can feel any connection with others is through the act of killing.

Well… whether he lives or dies by the end of this, I truly don't care. It won't interfere with my plans. So I should…

He let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his long blond hair.

"Very well… During the final phase of our plan, I'll give you the opportunity to fight Servus. But if you die against that monster, don't blame me, okay?"

Afilada, still wearing his wicked smile, responded without a hint of doubt in his voice:

"Trust me, I won't die…"

Then, his expression grew more serious as he asked:

"Still… I don't understand. Why are all those monsters—far above us in strength—so interested in that boy? Plus… we escaped hell long before he was even born."

Immemorvis chuckled, then slipped a hand into the pocket of his long white coat.

"You noticed it too, didn't you? We've been in this world for at least two decades, so it wouldn't make sense if the only reason was that we're standing in Cyrus's way… It wouldn't make any sense—yet, it's the only logical explanation."

Then, his expression grew cold as he let out a malicious smile.

"How frustrating… All those guys are playing out some grand theater, and we don't even know the plot ... .It doesn't matter if we don't understand what's so special about Cyrus or why both sides are so interested in him—we'll find out soon enough.

But there is one thing I won't allow, no matter what…"

He looked at Afilada with such coldness that it almost made him shiver.

"The one thing I won't allow… is the world trying to control my destiny. Me, the servant of oblivion… I will be the one pulling the strings from above this theater.

And if Cyrus Miravine is at the center of it all… then all I have to do is make him a stepping stone toward my dream—

For everything to fade into oblivion."

Afilada pulled out his hip flask and said in an amused tone,

"Looks like you've made up your mind."

Immemorvis didn't bother looking at him. Instead, his gaze fell upon his own shadow—twisting, suffocating, as if something within it were staring back at him. A faint shiver ran down his spine… then, slowly, a wicked smile spread across his face.

He gripped his hands over his empty eye sockets, tilting his head downward as dark thoughts coiled in his mind.

That's right, Cyrus Miravine… I won't let you push me aside before I achieve my dream. If you're at the center of it all, then you won't be a pawn of the Wicked and his followers—nor those scientists.

No… You will be my pawn. MY stepping stone.

And before it all begins… I need to know exactly what kind of pawn you are.

And I know exactly how to find out.

Just wait a little longer… Oblivion.

***

It had been at least four hours since the meeting had ended. He walked toward the forest known as Morning Dew, located two kilometers outside the city.

If he were to be honest, he didn't enjoy devouring human souls as much as his peers did. He preferred consuming the spirits of animals—after all, animals were far more spiritual than humans.

Servus Ipse cherished these rare moments of peace with nature. The birds singing, the gentle sound of the lake, the warmth of the sun's rays, and the crisp scent of the wind—it was perfection. If anyone dared to interrupt this tranquility, he might just kill them… in the slowest way possible.

Sitting beneath a tree, he gazed into the distance, his expression unreadable. Then, in a cold tone, he spoke:

"Don't you think it's time to show yourself… Hephaestus?"

A few meters away, hidden in the trees, a slender man emerged. He wore a black kimono adorned with blood-red symbols, and his hair—pure white as snow, with only a streak of red—fell around his face. His black eyes were as dark as the deepest abyss.

His expression was pure bloodlust, a wicked smile curling across his lips as he stepped forward.

In a cold tone, he spoke:

"You really got me good there… Ipse… making me look like a fool…"

Servus didn't bother looking at him. Instead, he spoke in a cold tone:

"Just get to the point. It's easy to tell when you can't even control your bloodlust."

Hephaestus spat, his rage palpable:

"Every group needs a hierarchy to keep everyone in their place? Since when did I agree to be part of that stupid group!? Anyone who looks down on me or stands in my way…"

His right arm transformed into a crimson katana blade. His voice turned cold, sharp as the blade:

"Will die by my hand. I'll rid myself of this humiliation, this tattoo on my skin, by making you eat your own intestines over and over for what you did to me."

"You see, I like the forest. It's calm, peaceful, and the air tastes better than in the city. These little moments of peace make me feel like I've achieved heaven, after all. The birds singing, the sound of the water flowing, the wind on my face… all of it… is my own heaven."

He stood up and locked eyes with Hephaestus, his bloodlust cold but unforgiving.

"But then… I remember there are fuckers like you who make me realize that even after everything I've been through, I still haven't achieved heaven."

Hephaestus walked slowly toward Servus, a wicked smile stretching across his face as he swung his blade left and right in a playful manner. Then, in a mocking tone, he said:

"Stop… your sad story is really going to make me fucking cry… Hey, how about this…"

In an instant, he dashed forward with the speed of a bullet—twice as fast. He spat, his voice dripping with malice:

"Maybe if I kill you a second time, God will have enough mercy to console you himself after this murder!"

Then… Servus disappeared. He didn't see him move—not even a blur. In fact, it felt like Servus hadn't moved at all, but suddenly, he was gone.

A moment later, Hephaestus came crashing to the ground. His skull shattered into multiple pieces, brain matter and blood splattering across the dirt.

His body shot out roots, desperately trying to regenerate his head. He couldn't even think, but then Servus appeared again, holding the only remaining piece of Hephaestus's head.

In a cold voice, he spoke:

"Slaves should never talk back to their master. It seems you still haven't gotten it, have you? The difference in power between the other Malvados and me is like the heavens and the earth. Only Cortante might stand a chance against me… or Immemorvis. But you? I won't even need to use my abilities to kill you. My pure strength alone is enough to end you."

He let go of what was left of Hephaestus's head, then took a few steps back. He casually slipped his hand into his pocket and continued in the same cold tone:

"Regenerate, Hephaestus. As the Primer Malvado, I will turn your body into nothing more than bug matter a thousand times over… You'll learn the difference between a number one and a mere number four."

chapter seventy-seven end