Azel's eyes burning with madness, grips the auctioneer's neck—tightening until bones snap. Blood spurts from the crushed throat like a broken pipe, soaking Azel's pale, vein-lined face.
Then, chaos.
Nobles shrieked. Chairs overturned. Masks were thrown off as rich merchants, minor aristocrats, and perverted officials scrambled toward the exits like rats fleeing fire. Someone was crushed underfoot. Another was stabbed by a desperate bodyguard trying to clear the path.
"SECURE THE AREA!"
A crusader barked.
A squad of armored Inquisitors burst into the room, holy staves glowing as they chanted purification spells.
But nothing happened.
Their magic fizzled, sparks dimming mid-air. Spells that would usually sear flesh or paralyze demons barely tickled the ground.
"What the hell is this?!"
One Inquisitor shouted.
Far above, near the ceiling of the chamber, a glyph glowed with layered symbols—a barrier spreading like a dome. Piero, standing calmly at a high vantage point, smirked and whispered the activation chant once more.
The sigil shimmered.
A powerful seal spread across the area, suppressing all holy magic and locking down every exit. No one would leave this place alive—unless Azel let them.
"I am trusting you with this, Azel."
Back below, Azel moved through the chamber like a storm.
Crack—his fist shattered the skull of a charging crusader.
Whoosh—cursed fire erupted from his palm, catching three soldiers mid-lunge. Screams echoed as their bodies ignited, flesh melting into armor.
"Th-That's cursed flame!"
"It's... a cursed magic!"
"No that can not be."
A moment of stunned silence fell—eyes darted to Azel's chest.
They saw it. Faintly. A distorted, pulsing black mark veiled in flickering shadow.
"No… no way…"
"A Cursewright?!"
"He should be extinct—!"
Panic exploded through the crowd. The guards faltered. One dropped his sword. Another turned and ran, only to be cut down by cursed chains erupting from the floor and skewering his legs.
Azel's eyes were burning—not with flame, but fury. Cold, deliberate, relentless fury.
"No one in this room is innocent. You buy lives. You destroy them. You play God behind masks and gold."
An Inquisitor lunged, blade blessed and glowing.
"FOR SAINT HER—!"
Azel's hand wrapped around the blade mid-swing. The light died instantly. With a violent twist, he snapped the man's wrist, drove his elbow into the Inquisitor's throat, and finished with a flame-coated palm that caved in his chest.
Holy warriors fell like wheat before a scythe.
The suppression glyph weakened every spell they cast—turning divine miracles into pitiful sparks. But Azel? His cursed magic only grew stronger. With Forbanna's power coursing through him, he felt no pain, only purpose.
"Azel, I can't give you more than this. You will break if we go too far."
"This much is good enough."
He hurled spears of corrupted bone. Flames erupted in violet tongues, licking at walls and ceilings. A merchant tried to crawl under a bench—he burned alive, screaming for mercy that never came.
The slaves still trapped in their cages stared, wide-eyed, some in awe, some in fear.
"Is he… one of them?"
"Shh! He's—he's saving us…"
More soldiers poured in, but they hesitated now. Whispers of "Cursewright" passed between them like poison.
"Why isn't the holy magic working?!"
Azel growled, turning to them, his body cloaked in black smoke.
"Figure that out in your afterlife."
He stepped forward, lifting both hands.
"Where is Anna?"
That wasn't a question but a threat but before they could reply he slammed his palms together. A shockwave of cursed force exploded outward, sending every attacker flying. Walls cracked. The floor trembled and blood splattered.
And still—he didn't stop.
The scent of burning flesh lingered heavy in the air. Smoke coiled around shattered pews and broken chandeliers as black fire still licked the walls. Bodies—nobles, guards, Inquisitors—were strewn across the marble floor, twisted and smoldering.
Amid the chaos, a holy chant cut through the noise. Echoing. Ominous.
A new group entered.
Priests in ceremonial white, hands glowing with divine sigils. Their leader, a man with slicked black hair and a narrow face twisted by disdain, stepped forward with a shining staff. Antony.
A familiar face.
Azel recognized him instantly—the same priest who had whispered to Cardinal Hakugo during the trafficking operation. The one who encouraged them to move on while Azel and Anna were watching from above.
So this is the lapdog.
"Cursewright!"
Antony declared, voice booming unnaturally with holy reinforcement.
"You defile this place with your wickedness!"
Behind him, a full squad of priests raised their hands, holy magic shimmering in coordinated unison. A second wave of crusaders advanced, swords drawn, eyes wild with purpose—or fear.
Azel didn't reply. He stepped forward, arm coated in swirling cursed flame. His gaze didn't waver.
"Cast purification!"
A dome of white light formed and shot forward like a tidal wave.
Azel didn't dodge.
He walked straight through it.
The light fizzled against his skin like a dying spark. The suppression glyph still pulsing from above made holy magic into wet tissue paper.
One of the priests stammered.
"I-It's not working!"
Azel launched himself forward.
He slammed his foot into the chest of the first priest, snapping ribs. The man flew backward, crashing into a pillar.
A cursed blade extended from Azel's hand—a jagged construct of flame and bone. He swung.
Two priests fell. A crusader lunged and got impaled through the throat.
Screams filled the air as the squad was torn apart, one by one. Shields cracked. Armor melted. The floor soaked in holy men's blood.
Still, Antony stood. His hands trembling but raised in defiance. He summoned a spear of golden light and hurled it.
It hit Azel in the shoulder—barely.
The light dimmed against the cursed aura surrounding him. Azel stumbled a half step, then straightened. His eyes locked onto the priest with cold, unfiltered hatred.
"Coward. People like you are true heretics."
"I-I serve the Holy Path. We bring order—"
Azel surged forward, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
"You bring suffering."
Antony tried to cast another spell. His fingers barely moved before Azel slammed him to the floor, breaking stone with the impact. Blood sprayed.
He tried to crawl away, whimpering, dragging himself with his one good arm. A deep wound in his chest left a trail of red.
Azel followed. Calm. Crouching beside him.
"Where is she?"
Antony rasped, tears and blood mixing on his lips.
"Sir Hakugo… he… he took her."
Azel's lips curled, not into a smile—but a grimace of acknowledgement.
"You don't understand. We had no choice! Cursewrights were dangerous! You were all meant to be destroyed! The world—"
A cursed blade formed again.
"You betrayed the ones you couldn't control, then called them heretics. This illegal auction explains every vile nature of yours."
He raised the blade.
Then—a sudden pressure. A divine weight fell upon the room, suffocating.
The remaining flames flickered.
And then footsteps. Calm. Rhythmic.
From the far side of the blood-drenched chamber, the door opened with a creak.
A man entered.
He was tall, statuesque, with black skin and holy robes so pristine they seemed untouched by the chaos. A massive golden cross was emblazoned across his chest. A sword hung at his hip, its hilt wrapped in crimson cloth. His expression was neutral, but there was something wrong with his eyes—like all the light had been pulled from them.
In one arm, he carried someone.
Azel's heart dropped.
'Anna.'
Unconscious and pale.
Hakugo stepped forward, unfazed by the corpses or the chaos.
Antony saw him and reached out.
"My Lord!"
Hakugo's gaze turned to him.
"Antony, return to the cathedral and send message to saint heron. The last living cursewright is dead by the hands of 3rd archbishop Hakugo."
"Y-Yes."
Antony quicky waked away with all his strength. He is still wounded but he must obey the orders.
Azel rose slowly, fists clenched, fury boiling anew.
"He will not go anywhere."
Hakugo smirked looking at him.
"Afraid he will expose you boy? Don't worry. You will not escape from here."