The rain fell slower now.
The corpse of Hakugo lay strewn across the forest clearing, scattered like refuse, but Azel stood still—unmoving, his blood-soaked body steaming in the downpour.
Azel looks at the remains of the man in cold expression.
His smile slowly faded away. His eyes turning back to normal, murderous glint fading.
Amidst the rain he stares at him blankly before turning attention to his hand. It was rotting.
The flesh was tearing and his cells were dying. But... he was not scared.
"You awakened your mark in wrong time Azel."
Forbanna was calm as if she has accepted what is to come.
"So that was not your power?"
"No!"
"My spirit core can't handle this much power yet right?"
"...Yes"
Azel sighs while looking at his rotting body. He should have run away but he couldn't because of her.
Slowly his body started to disintegrate.
The cursed flames were consuming him.
From the edge of the shattered clearing, Anna appeared.
Her eyes searched frantically until they locked onto him.
She ran.
Her steps were uneven, half-limping, half-falling forward as if every movement was agony. Her drenched hair clung to her face. Her chest heaved with ragged breath.
"Azel—!"
She was getting closer.
The moment he saw her, something in him relaxed.
He tried to say her name. Couldn't.
She dropped to her knees beside him, grabbing him before he fell. His legs were gone.
His head rested softly against her chest—warm, even in the rain.
"Azel… don't… please. Stay with me. Please."
Her voice cracked. Her hands clutched him, trembling.
"I… I'm sorry."
He whispered, his voice barely air. His arm had half-disintegrated already. His skin was sloughing off in flakes of grey and ember.
She wept, openly now. Her tears mixed with the rain, her voice hoarse with grief.
"I don't care about that… I just want you to live! I love you. Please!!"
He looked up at her, eyes soft now. No madness. Just tired warmth.
He smiled faintly and touched her cheek with his another hand.
Then—
His body crumbled in her arms.
A rush of ash swept through her fingers like sand slipping from her grasp.
He was gone.
And the rain kept falling.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Where… am I?"
Azel blinked.
The pain was gone. The burning, the disintegration—gone.
He looked around.
It was the same place. The forest. The clearing. The rain hung midair like frozen pearls. Wind stood still, leaves caught mid-flight. The ash where his body once was still drifted—but in slow motion, like dust floating underwater.
And there was Anna.
Kneeling beside the pile of ash, her face twisted in anguish. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream. Tears lingered on her cheek, unmoving.
Azel stepped forward. No sound.
"Anna?"
No response.
The world was frozen.
His heart thudded once. Twice.
But not from fear—from confusion.
"What… is this place?"
A gentle gust brushed past him—the only thing that moved—and from behind, a voice rose like silk dipped in fire.
"So… she means that much to you?"
Azel turned.
Forbanna.
No longer a whisper in his mind. She stood there, fully formed, or maybe only spiritually so.
She was stunning, almost surreal. Long red hair framed her sculpted face. Her eyes, crimson and cruel, glinted beneath her furrowed brow. Her figure was statuesque—tall, lithe, and powerful. Her age looked to be somewhere in her mid-twenties and she had comparable bust to anna's.
No wonder she always bragged about how beautiful she is.
Her lips were tight. Her expression unreadable, caught between fury and sorrow.
Azel didn't answer. He didn't need to.
She already knows the answer.
Forbanna stepped closer, her bare feet soundless on the still earth.
"You'd let yourself be consumed. Just to protect her."
Her tone wasn't accusatory. It was cold.
"You're upset because I killed us both?"
"Idiot. Of course I'm upset. You had more to live for than that. You had chance to run away."
He stayed silent.
She looked away. Her fists clenched. But before she could say anything more—
A shadow moved.
Then another.
From the darkness beyond the still trees, they emerged.
First one. Then ten. Then hundreds.
Thousands!
Figures cloaked in shadow. Men. Women. Children. Shapes with twisted limbs, broken bodies, warped silhouettes. Some had marks across their chests. Others dragged chains. Others bore halos of rot.
All of them—
Stared at him.
No face. Just darkness. Staring.
Azel's breath hitched.
"What is this…?"
From the mass, one figure stepped forward.
Broad. Towering. Muscular.
His presence was like a weight. His silhouette more formed than the others, with spiked hair and armored gauntlets laced in molten cracks.
He stopped before Azel.
The air around him sizzled faintly.
Then, in a deep, gravel-like voice:
"So you're the one she chose."
Azel stared.
"…Who are you?"
The shadow smirked.
"Lagunas. First of our kind. The first Cursewright."
He spread his arms, motioning to the thousands behind him.
"We are all cursewrights. Just like you."