One step.
Two.
Gerard advanced slowly toward Beelzebub, with Raphael right behind him.
"As you can see, daughter, they leave me no option," Beelzebub said to Bishop, flashing a wicked grin. He had been waiting for this moment — another chance to clash with the Nephilim. Their last encounter had been thrilling. He intended to enjoy this one just as much.
The three of them approached one another with measured, heavy steps. No words were exchanged. The wind howled around them, stirring the dark clouds overhead. The sky was swollen, ready to burst with rain — but none of them seemed to care.
Gerard had pushed aside the mission to find Rain, the water elemental. That didn't matter anymore. There was only one thing left in his mind: stop the monster standing before him. He couldn't let Beelzebub roam free.
"Wait, wait, wait! You guys leave Papa alone!"
Bishop rushed in between them, arms spread wide in a protective stance.
"But that guy killed thousands!" Raphael stepped forward, protesting.
"Papa didn't do all that! He protected me from the monster that was attacking the city!" she shouted back.
"M'lady, the only monster there that day was him," Raphael snapped, now visibly agitated.
"I don't have time for your lovers' quarrel," Gerard muttered, vanishing in a dash toward Beelzebub.
Bishop couldn't react in time. Gerard moved faster than she remembered — was he holding back before?
His fist slammed into Beelzebub's face with impossible speed. The demon was hurled back, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, bone jutting from flesh. But even then, that same sickening smile remained plastered across his face.
"Moooreeee, little Nephilim... mooooree," Beelzebub rasped as his neck snapped back into place with a grotesque crunch. It was like something out of a horror film.
"Make sure your girlfriend doesn't interfere. I can't guarantee I won't hurt her if she gets involved," Gerard said, not taking his eyes off his opponent.
"Girlfriend~" Bishop giggled again, delusional and detached. She sounded like a teenager in love. But this wasn't the girl Raphael had known. No… something was wrong. Beelzebub had done something to her — something unnatural.
Gerard and Beelzebub clashed again. Punch after punch, blow after blow — they didn't dodge or block. There was no strategy now, only violence. Their fists moved faster than lightning.
Beelzebub stumbled back, but Gerard pressed on — relentless. His strikes fell like hail. Beelzebub struggled to compose himself, but the Nephilim wasn't giving him an inch.
Finally, Beelzebub had to act.
"You're stronger than I thought you'd be," he said, unleashing a shockwave of decay.
"Listen, and listen unto me well. I am Beelzebub — fallen angel, and more importantly, one of the Seven Deadly Sins. I hold the title of Gluttony."
He raised his eyes to the stormy sky, his face twisted in twisted ecstasy.
"I was planning on holding back... but now… now I'll show you my true form."
Dark light began to swell around him.
---
Meanwhile...
Raphael stood frozen, staring at the girl before him. This wasn't the Bishop he once loved. She seemed lost, detached from reality. And yet... he had to try.
"M'lady, this isn't you," he pleaded, voice soft with concern.
"Thi...s isn't me~?" she murmured, blushing and turning away. "What do you mean~?"
Raphael stepped closer.
"The Bishop I knew was fearless. She was adventurous. She never let her loneliness define her." His voice cracked slightly. "Please… come back to your senses."
"Come back to my senses?"
Her tone shifted — serious now, sharp.
"Are you calling me crazy?"
"What... I didn't—" he stammered.
"I'm not crazy... I'll prove it. I'm not like Papa—" She paused. Her face tensed. "Huh… what's this?"
Something had changed.
Memories began flooding her mind — pieces of something she had long buried.
It was Raphael's light. His holy power could cleanse magic, dissolve illusions, undo spells. And in this moment, he used it to see if she had been bewitched.
---
Suddenly... he was inside.
Not just seeing her memories — living them.
"No, I don't wanna—"
That was Bishop's voice, trembling. He could hear it, feel it.
"Daughter, listen to me," Beelzebub's voice echoed through the memory. "For decades upon decades, millennia across millennia, humans have chased one thing. A single desire... present throughout history."
The scene unfolded at a dinner table. Bishop was tied to a chair.
"What is that desire? It's simple: to feast."
He held out a plate toward her.
"To bask in the feeling of a full belly... it is etched into every human from birth. Everyone seeks it in their own way."
He knelt beside her, forcing her mouth open.
"And for you, my dear daughter... it is to eat the remains of your family."
He shoved the grotesque contents of the plate down her throat.
Raphael almost vomited. The horror of the act made his knees go weak.
Young Bishop screamed and cried. She tried to spit it out. Tried to die. She had come with him willingly, believing he had saved her — only to discover he had slaughtered her family... her city. She wanted to die, but even that would not save her.
Snap.
That was the sound of her psyche breaking.
If she couldn't die, then she could forget.
Forget the pain.
Forget the trauma.
Her body slumped unconscious. And then... her eyes fluttered open.
"Papa, what are you doing here?" she asked sweetly. "What's for dinner?"
"Oh? What's this?" Beelzebub sneered, holding her head with both hands. "What a curious little girl you are."
"Papa, you're being scary," she pouted.
"Yes, yes... I'm sorry."
---
The memory shattered.
Raphael stumbled back, struggling to breathe. His stomach churned.
How could Beelzebub do this? How could anyone?
He wasn't just angry — he was wrath incarnate. He wanted to end Beelzebub. Tear him apart.
"Wh-what w-was th-that?"
Bishop clutched her head, shaking violently. "No... I didn't eat... I… Papa didn't kill..."
The memories were coming back.
And she was breaking all over again.