"Wind Blade!"
A sharp green Wind Blade shot out with a whoosh, slicing through the man in black's cloak and cutting off his hood—revealing his true face.
"It's you?" Noel stared in disbelief at the man before him.
He recognized this person—he was the peddler who'd been making shady trades in the alleyway.
So he was the one orchestrating everything from the shadows... If I'd just taken him out then, none of this would've happened. Now it's going to be much harder to clean this up.
"You know him?" Jura asked, puzzled.
He even started to wonder if Noel might be working with the man. Though he had met Noel before, that didn't mean people couldn't change. Some people grow… and as they grow, they drift away from who they once were.
And if no one's there to pull that runaway train back on track, it'll just keep hurtling forward, out of control.
"It's thanks to your carelessness that I got away. Without that, my plan would never have gone so smoothly. I owe you one," the man in black—Cole—said with a sinister grin.
"In the name of Cole, I welcome the descent of the demon."
With that, Cole pulled out a finely crafted flute. It looked ancient, with strange patterns carved into its surface. Time had worn it down so much, the details were hard to make out.
Then, Cole began to play.
A bizarre, unsettling melody drifted from the flute, and immediately the crimson, seductive flowers on the mountain began to stir.
Everyone glanced up at the sky. Some kind of black, smoke-like substance was starting to gather above Cole.
"Multi-Pillar Rain!"
"Gale Art – Thousand Leaf Scatter!"
Jura and Noel both launched their fastest spells—stone pillars and countless green wind blades shot toward the black mist.
They managed to disperse a small portion of it…
But more black smoke quickly flowed in from the distance, refilling the gap almost instantly.
"What the hell is this thing?"
Noel cursed aloud.
"We can't stop it," Jura muttered, shaking his head. His magic had done nothing.
The flute's melody grew increasingly twisted, and more and more black smoke gathered, radiating an overwhelming aura of evil.
It moved like a living cloud, pressing in from every direction. Noel had never felt this kind of pressure before—it was suffocating.
"You all look so panicked. This flute really works wonders, doesn't it?" Cole boasted arrogantly.
"Stop it already! That flute is evil, and the black smoke around you… it's unnatural. If this keeps up—" Noelle tried to reason with him.
He didn't fully understand what kind of flute it was, but he was almost certain—it was likely one of Zeref's demon flutes.
"It's too late to stop now."
Cole burst into wild laughter.
The sky was already churning with dark clouds—now even black smoke was pouring in like locusts, stripping the land of all life.
It raged like a vortex across the border town, but strangely, the group found themselves standing in the eye of the storm, untouched by the chaos for now.
"This is… too bizarre," Noel muttered, a chill creeping up his spine.
"It's like hell itself has descended," he said in a low voice, barely able to speak.
A foul stench drifted in. Some nearby trees were already starting to rot—the scent of decay hung thick in the air.
"So this is… a demon," Jura whispered. He was overcome by a sense of helplessness. He had already unleashed his strongest attacks, yet they had done nothing.
Then something clicked—when he bombarded Cole with his spells, a hole had appeared in the side of the mountain.
Could it be…? Has Cole fused with the mountain itself?
Jura suddenly had this dreadful thought.
If that's true, then this battle just got a whole lot worse. Our enemy isn't just Cole anymore—it's the entire mountain.
"Hahahahaha! Destroy everything! Tear it all down! Praise the mighty Abaddon!" Cole cackled wildly.
"He just spoke the demon's true name," Jura warned.
"Abaddon..." Noel muttered.
That name sounds familiar… Right—in the Alchemist's Codex.
"Abaddon is the emissary of the Bottomless Pit, the King of the Locust Plague, the bringer of death and destruction—the ender of all things."
So, this flute probably wasn't one of Zeref's creations after all—it was likely a token of some powerful demon.
As for how Cole got it, that remained a mystery.
Suddenly, Cole tried to stop playing the flute—he had decided it was time to end this chaos. What he had achieved was more than enough.
But then—something terrifying happened.
His lips wouldn't come off the flute.
And neither would his hands.
He couldn't stop playing.
This can't be right… he thought, panicking.
What was worse, his strength was starting to fade.
Just moments ago, he had been full of energy, but now he felt like a shriveled old man. His body felt heavy. Weak.
Even if he wanted to escape, the area was completely surrounded by the black tornado.
It hit him—he couldn't stop playing.
The flute wasn't just a summoning tool—it was a curse.
While it was helping him kill his enemies, it was also draining his life in exchange.
But Cole only laughed even louder.
"So be it. Then I'll take more people with me! If I'm going to die—let the whole town die with me!"
Why should I be the only one to suffer in this world?
Why should some people get to live freely, while I was punished and imprisoned for the smallest mistake?
It's not fair. It's never been fair.
But now… now it was going to end.
He would offer his life to Abaddon, and in return, the town would become a wasteland.
Everyone in it would be buried with him.
That's not a bad deal, he thought.
At least if he died, he'd take hundreds with him.
Watching the faces of others twist in despair—he realized how much he loved it.
How pathetic. How disgusting.
But it was the only satisfaction he had left.
"Tyrant's Shatter!" Jura roared, hands clasped tightly.
The entire West Hill was encircled by towering stone pillars, each radiating a brilliant yellow glow.
BOOM!
But just then, a surge of eerie red light erupted—flowers of the Underworld burst forth in droves, blocking Jura's devastating attack.
"Impossible…" Jura muttered, stunned by what he was seeing.
"Looks like we'll have to deal with those red flowers first… but how?"
Suddenly, Noel's pocket began to warm up—the sudden temperature shift caught him off guard.
He reached inside and felt around—
It was the seed he had taken earlier.
He pulled it out and saw—the seed had sprouted.
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