Silence.
Then—breath.
Aden's chest rose with a ragged inhale. His eyes snapped open.
The chamber was still, the air thick with tension. His body was battered—his ribs cracked, his skin torn—but his aura had changed.
It was no longer raw and wild.
It was precise. Cold. Focused like a drawn blade.
And it carried something else.
Weight. Dread. Presence.
Outside the chamber—
The runes dimmed for a moment, as if the ritual had ended. One of the Black Knights exhaled, lowering his sword.
Then—
Boom.
A burst of black-and-scarlet energy exploded from the chamber doors, knocking dust from the ceiling and forcing everyone back.
"No… that's not possible," Ian whispered, eyes wide.
"He's still transforming," said one knight.
"No..," Rudeus corrected grimly, eyes narrowing.
"Egmund"
The doors burst open.
Aden stepped out—barefoot, burned, bloodied—but standing tall.
His veins still glowed faint red, but his pupils white surrounded by black. Only his aura betrayed the truth.
It moved like smoke around him, heavy and pulsing, each wave stirring primal fear.
The Black Knights raised their blades.
"Aden Vasco!" one shouted. "Step down! You are not yourself!"
Aden didn't even blink.
Then, from his lips, a single word—
"Kneel."
The pressure slammed into them like a wave. Fear itself manifested—pure, overwhelming, Power.
Three knights dropped to their knees involuntarily. The others froze, hands trembling.
Only Ian remained standing, teeth clenched, his blade trembling.
Rudeus reached for his sword. Ed stepped forward, eyes locked on his son.
"Father," Ed said. "Say the word."
But Zwalter… laughed.
Not mockingly. Not madly.
But with the slow, heavy sound of awe.
"Look at him..," Zwalter said. "He's not possessed."
"…What?"
"He took control of it," Zwalter whispered. "And now... He Won.."
Inside the chamber,
The Black Knights regrouped. Their orders were clear—if Egmund returned, they were to kill the vessel.
They struck as one.
Aden moved like smoke—grace and speed. His steps—the Wind God's path—blurred his figure.
He sidestepped a blade, parried another, and with a burst of scarlet aura, launched one knight flying across the hall.
Ian leapt in, his blade crashing against Aden's. The impact lit the air with sparks.
"Show me!" Ian growled. "Are you Aden Vasco—or the demon pretending to be him?!"
Aden's eyes met his. Cold. Steady.
"The Aden Vasco you knew is dead, Bury him," he said.
And with a twist, he shattered Ian's blade and sent him sprawling.
Zwalter finally stepped forward.
"Enough," he said, voice like thunder. "He is Vasco."
The knights froze. The air shifted.
Rudeus sighed and sheathed his sword. Ed exhaled sharply but said nothing.
Aden stood at the center of it all, his body still leaking smoke, but his expression calm.
His trial was over.
Later, after the wounds were tended and silence returned to the Bastion, Aden walked alongside his father, uncle, and grandfather.
"So, how did it go down?" Rudeus asked him out of Curiosity.
"I was tough, Egmund was.. Way stronger than i imagined"
"You should always stay on your guard", Zwalter spoke.
"So.. What of Egmund, What about him", Ed asked him.
Aden stood silent for a moment and then spoke out.
"Although i defeating him, i could not drive him out of my soul"
Aden believed that it was best not to reveal the contract made with Egmund to anyone, so he decided to come up with his own story.
"What?... then is he--", Rudeus' words where cut short by Zwalter. "You came out alive from there and that's all that matter... for now."
"And Egmund... we will find a way somehow", Zwalter's words felt reassuring, "Cheer up Boy,... You're a Vasco."
None of them spoke of what he'd become.
But that night, in the dark of his room, Aden dreamt again.
No Egmund. No battlefield.
Only a throne of ash, and atop it—
Himself.
Eyes burning. The world below ablaze.
He was no longer a vessel.
He was the forge.
And wrath was his flame.