Chapter 27 – The Price of Victory    

Zython yanked his sword free, and blood splattered across the ground while Wyatt coughed as crimson dripped from his lips.

"Your sacrifice was noble, Mr. Goodwin," Zython mused, flicking the blood from his blade with a casual arrogance. "But wasted."

Wyatt chuckled, pain evident in his voice. "That's what you think."

A blinding light erupted from above, cutting through the smoke and carnage like a celestial blade. A figure shot downward with impossible speed, plunging a sword into Zython while slamming into the ground with a force that cracked the earth beneath him. Zython collapsed on one knee and while distracted, the angel grabbed the Angel Fire blade out of his grasp in a swift motion and walked up to Bastian. His glow around him dimmed just enough for Bastian to make out his face.

Billy.

"Come on, buddy," Billy said, extending a hand. "Let's finish this together."

Bastian grasped it, and a pulse of divine energy surged through him, knitting his wound together and igniting a fire deep within his core. Strength flooded his limbs, power unlike anything he'd ever known.

"It's time to reach your potential," Billy declared. "Unleash the real power."

Zython, still hunched over, eyes burning with malice, staggered to his feet. His expression twisted in fury when he realized the Angel Fire Blade was no longer in his grasp. He roared and charged straight for them.

Bastian and Billy split, moving in unison like two sides of the same blade. Zython struck first, swinging wildly. Billy ducked, retaliating with a vicious uppercut that snapped Zython's head back, but the demon barely flinched before slamming his fist into Billy's face, sending him skidding across the battlefield.

Bastian's vision turned red. His rage swelled, raw and uncontrollable. He wasn't losing anyone else to this monster.

He surged forward, their weapons clashing in a brutal dance. Zython fought like a demon possessed—because he was one. But Bastian… Bastian fought like a man with nothing left to lose. Every block, every strike, every calculated move was fueled by the weight of every fallen soldier, every lost loved one.

Billy recovered quickly, joining the fray. They weaved in and out, working seamlessly, their attacks relentless. But Zython was no ordinary demon. He was fast, unpredictable, and every counter felt like fighting a phantom. Then, an opening—

Bastian took it.

The Angel Fire Blade pierced straight through Zython's chest. The demon's body seized, his hands clutching at the hilt as his knees buckled. The once-mighty warrior now stood on borrowed seconds, the weight of his fate settling in his eyes.

A slow smirk curled his lips. "I guess the best guy won."

His gaze flickered, searching for something beyond Bastian. "Look after Ana. She's… she's a special girl. Even managed to steal a piece of a demon's heart."

With those final words, his body turned to ash, disintegrating in Bastian's grasp.

Bastian exhaled sharply, letting the reality sink in, but the moment of victory was brief. A horrible realization struck him.

Wyatt.

He spun and ran, skidding to his knees beside the man who had become more than an ally—family. Wyatt's breaths were shallow, his face ghostly pale.

"We need to get you to the healers," Bastian urged, gripping his shoulder.

Wyatt gave a weak chuckle. "Too late for that, son."

"No. No, you don't get to say that," Bastian snapped, shaking his head as his vision blurred. "We'll fix this. Billy! We need to—"

"Help Zadkiel," Wyatt rasped. "Asmodeus… he's powerful. Too powerful. His generals… you have to help."

"I'm not leaving you!" Bastian's voice cracked, his grip tightening.

"Bastian, go!" Billy's voice was firm, cutting through the grief threatening to consume him. "I'll take Wyatt to the healers."

Bastian hesitated, his heart warring against his duty.

"Wait." Wyatt lifted a trembling hand and yanked a chain from around his neck. Two rings dangled from it—one his own, the other unmistakably familiar. "My wedding ring. And Anastasia's mother's ring. I want you two to have them."

Bastian's throat tightened. "Wyatt, I can't—"

"You will." His eyes, dim but steady, bore into Bastian's. "Promise me."

Bastian swallowed hard and took the rings, closing his fist around them. "I'll see you at the healer's guild, okay? Don't die on me."

Billy lifted Wyatt into his arms and shot into the sky, a streak of light heading toward the celestial healers.

Bastian stood there for half a second, staring at the blood-stained rings in his palm. Then he clenched them tight and turned toward the battlefield, where the fight was still raging.

He had a demon prince to kill.