“Why?” I asked with a choked voice

“Why not?” The figure asked in return.

“What do you gain from killing me?” I spat out.

“Nothing. Everything. You are but a trigger to be sacrificed for the good of Leon.”

“Leon?” I replied in disbelief.

“Indeed,” the figure said as it walked through the alley, stabbing a sword point into the throat of each one of the soldiers who were lying feebly on the ground.

I trembled as I watched the cold-hearted execution of the soldiers and I tried hard to reconcile how things had reached this state.

Then I watched the figure flick an arm out of the cloak that it was wearing and a dagger flashed out, nailing itself to the back of Paul’s head - Paul, who was trying to slip away under the cover of the night.

“Bal take you, spawn of Gon,” the figure whispered, but not low enough that I missed out on hearing it. Perhaps the figure thought I was spent of warforce.

“As for you, you shall die for the good of the war. I wonder, will Count Callum go insane with grief? Will your mother, Lady Alina, be furious enough to march - all alone and weak?”

A soft laugh sounded out before the hood of the Cloak was pulled back, revealing a face that I was all too familiar with.

Sia.

Sia walked closer to me, reaching out a hand to brush my hair from my eyes as I stared at her, heartbroken.

She placed her face close to my ears and whispered,

“You can always leave and neve-” Only to stop as I drove my fist with all my power into her stomach.

Bam.

She flew away but spun acrobatically in the air and landed, before glaring at me, completely unhurt.

“Why?” It was her turn to ask.

“Because I am Faust, Her Faust. Not yours.”

Blankly, Sia stared at me before cackling away in laughter and doubling up.

“Oh, this is rich. How strong are the feelings you have? I would’ve enjoyed toying with you, breaking your mind apart, and then killing you slowly. But, alas, time is short and I suppose I’ll kill you faster.”

“Bring it on,” I said, “Even with these wounds, you can’t be much stronger than me - otherwise why would you go through all those tricks?”

“Indeed,” she said, glancing around.

“5 iron ranks and an awakened 5 stars, yet here you are the victor. But the gap between us? It is too large for you to surmount.”

Saying so, Sia’s body began shimmering with a layer of silver that turned into greaves, cuirass, pauldrons, gauntlets, and then an open-faced helmet - all of which shimmered in the air as though translucent.

Dumbstruck, I saw Sia summon her forceshield and realized, “Silver Rank,” I spat out.

“Indeed,” she said with amusement.

Taking deep breaths, I straightened my hunched back and stood tall, blood flowing from my side into the tunic strips, flesh left exposed and lacerated by the numerous daggers that had stabbed in, my pants cut into ribbons, and my legs shaking.

Then I roared, roared in anger, roared in rage.

Ignite my sou-

Boom, I felt the world go blank.

Crash.

I smashed into the wall at a high velocity, Bal near breaking my back in two.

Vomiting out blood as though I would never stop, I slid down the wall and lay against it - Half-lying.

I tried lifting my fingers to point at her, but I couldn’t

My vision kept coming and going in and out of focus.

My body, my heart, and my blood kept generating warforce that held me together.

But they were almost broken.

Impossible.

Is this the gap between a silver rank and awakened?

Gurgling laughter arose from me as I felt myself fade away into oblivion.

Unwillingness seized me, but despair triumphed.

How was I going to win?

How was I going to fight against her?

What would I do even if I stood up?

Isn’t it better to let everything end?

Then a face appeared in my mind.

Mother, I whispered in my heart.

Another face appeared,

Father, my fingers twitched.

Yet another face -

Aaron, I dug my left hand into the tiles.

Ares, my breath started coming in gasps.

Sir Leonidas, Steam started rising from my body.

Sir James, a thousand ants ran rampant among my wounds.

Thomas, my stomach rumbled in satisfaction.

Frizelda, my chest felt hot.

Avia, my eyes opened.

Then the last face swam in front of my eyes and blurrily took form.

Sia.

My fists clenched.

With a roar, I moved my body up the wall, leaving a bloody streak on the bricks.

My right hand moved to my waist where something was calling me.

Raising it to my lips, I took a deep breath and blew.

I Refuse to give up! Courage! Valor!

The horn sounded out!

Wahhhh!

Covering her ears and staggering back, Sia looked at me blankly.

I kept blowing the horn and as the horn’s sound spread; I felt indomitable fighting will fill me.

I felt that even if the sky should fall, I will stand and point my fists at it.

I felt that even if the earth shakes, I would stand firmly on it.

I felt like I was the last bastion of hope.

I roared.

A Drayke raged.

The world shook.

Stepping forward, one bloody footprint at a time, I walked towards Sia, who visibly flinched before stepping forward to match me.

“You are not Sia,” I said.

“No? Then who am I?” she sneered.

“It doesn’t matter. I will live, you will die.”

“You? An awakened? Against me? A silver rank?” she taunted.

“Why? Afraid?”

She answered me with a blur of her sword.

This time, there was no ignition.

Because I was already ignited.

The warforce poured into my wounds and healed them, causing the pain of a thousand ants biting at once.

Then I was slashed.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

I lost count of the number of wounds that I took, and I lost track of time.

Survive.

Survival was the only thing on my mind.

My warforce pumped weaker and weaker, my wounds regenerated slower and slower, until finally, I was about to be pierced through.

And that was when a powerful, rough hand reached out and held the sword in his bare palms.

And then the wind started blowing.

The wind got stronger and stronger.

I saw none of it, as I fell onto the strong back in front of me.

A back which I had seen many times before.

Father, I thought before oblivion took me.

---------

Callum looked at the horrified silver rank woman.

Callum felt the rage that threatened to rip him apart in its fury.

The rage that shook the battlefield time after time.

Callum, the peaceful, stood there for a moment before he reached back and gently grasped the young boy, his boy, with his free hand.

He turned around fully, exposing his bloodied back, full of the blood that his boy had left.

Laying the boy gently on the ground, he regarded him with pride and sorrow in his eyes.

Pride for he had fought.

Pride for the horn of valor had blown.

Pride for facing the sword that threatened to strip his life away and charging forward.

Pride for facing a silver rank for 18 seconds after the horn had blown.

Sorrow for facing a silver rank alone for 18 seconds after the horn had blown.

Then Callum, the peaceful, turned to face the woman who stood there petrified.

Then the wind, which had gotten softer, suddenly turned into a whirlwind and Callum vanished.

When he reappeared, he had his eyes narrowed in anger and a hand that held the woman by the throat.

“Reveal yourself,” he rumbled.

The woman struggled in his grasp before a vicious look flashed across her face and she bit down, only for the other hand of Callum to come across and hold her jaw in place.

“You won’t die so easily,” He murmured before his knee drove into the woman's stomach.

The woman’s mouth opened like a seal and Callum’s hand flashed and a moment later, all the woman’s teeth had been removed - plucked away like fruit.

The woman screamed in agony and her legs that were dangling off the ground began thrashing around, but her upper body was still as though a vice was holding her.

Then the woman began changing.

Her hair became shorter.

The legs became longer.

The face became uglier.

‘Sia’ looked at Count Callum in fear.

Count Callum looked at her peacefully.

Suddenly, two shadows flashed before him.

One shadow moved forward before bowing down and kneeling on the ground while glancing at the broken body of the boy.

“My lord,” he whispered.

The other shadow ignored everything and flashed straight to the boy - upon which Count Callum tensed.

But the shadow took out a vial of green liquid that he poured all over the wounds that he could see.

Smoke began rising, and the boy began coughing before he came to.

Opening his eyes, the boy saw a face that was very familiar.

A face that was smiling more gently than he had ever seen before.

“Teacher…” He softly cried out.

Leonidas smiled at him before lifting him up to his feet, where the boy swayed unsteadily.

Wrapping his arm around the boy to steady him, Leonidas looked at the ugly woman who was ‘Sia’ a moment before.

Only to freeze in place.

The other shadow who was kneeling also looked at the woman properly and he, too, froze in place.

Callum squeezed the woman’s throat until she fainted before casually tossing her to the kneeling shadow and saying, “You know what to do.”

Then he turned slowly to face the boy, his boy.

Stuttering, Count Callum tried to speak, only to pause as his Son serenely looked at him and said, “I knew you would come.”

“Why,” Callum asked with his voice trembling. “I never came when you were being beaten up by that brat, so why did you know I would come?”

“Because you are my father.”

Stiffening, Callum Drayke, the knight and Count of Draconis City, blinked his eyes that seemed a little wet before saying,

“Casimir will pay for this.”

Only to fall silent as his son replied, “It wasn’t Casimir. He’s being framed.”

“Alastor?”

“Perhaps. But he might be framed too.”

“Why?”

——————

“Because that person is a spawn of Gon,” I said, pointing to Paul.

The three knights shook.

“Well, that’s what that witch said,” I said, as I jerked my head towards the woman who had fainted.

“Now, can we please go home? I want to see the real Sia.”