Samuel's chains fell to the ground with a sharp clatter, cleanly severed by one of Helydia's limbs—now fully transformed. Her half-spider form had emerged without restraint: a chitinous carapace covered parts of her back and arms, her legs had thickened, and long, blade-like limbs extended from her shoulder blades, glinting like razors.
The nobles still present in the chamber froze in horror.
"A half-monster! She was hiding in the capital all this time?!"
"Who are these people?!"
"They're going to kill us all!"
Panic erupted within seconds. Screams echoed, heels clattered, golden fabrics and embroidered coats twirled in a frenzy. Some scrambled for the exits, others pressed themselves against the walls, trying to vanish into them.
Yet despite the freedom of his arms, Samuel remained kneeling. He could still feel the weight of the collar around his neck—the white metal etched with glowing blue runes that sealed away his abilities. It clung to him like a shackle on his soul.
Helydia tried to break it. She struck blow after blow, each bladed limb slamming into the collar with a metallic clang, but the artifact held firm.
"It's too strong," she panted.
"Step back."
Dante approached slowly, his eyes shifting from Samuel to the collar. He reached into a pouch at his side and pulled out a small translucent key, sculpted from a material that looked like crystal.
"An Irden Key…" Helydia murmured, surprised.
"A gift from long ago," Dante said simply. He slid the key into a tiny slot on the collar. A soft blue light pulsed. He turned it.
Click.
The collar deactivated and fell away with a delicate chime.
A sudden silence spread across the platform. As if the world itself held its breath.
Samuel slowly lifted his head. His eyes were empty, almost distant… but a quiet heat seemed to rise from his body, like something awakening beneath his skin.
He stood, wordless.
His joints cracked softly. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his arms, then tilted his head from side to side. Every motion echoed like the return of a beast long imprisoned.
Helydia, removed a large sword from her back and held it out to him.
"She's been waiting for you."
Samuel said nothing. He took the hilt, raised the blade, and stared at it in silence.
The hall around them had descended into chaos. Nobles trampled royal carpets in panic. Guards shouted confused orders. Even King Elyndar Silmaris had left the throne, calmly escorted by his elite knights and the High Priest.
But not everyone had fled.
Notably… Baldrek Grimhorn.
The second of the Fundament of Attack stood firm at the base of the platform. His golden armor creaked over his flexed muscles. A warrior's fury blazed in his dark eyes.
He tore the massive war mace from his back, swung it with a low hum, then pointed it at Samuel.
"So this is the Black Calamity? Pfft… You look more exhausted than dangerous."
He charged, each step shaking the floor.
But a silver flash split the air.
A long katana swept in between Baldrek and Samuel.
The blade rang softly in the stillness.
Dante had stepped between them, katana drawn, its tip poised across his chest. His stance was solid.
He looked up at the colossus and smiled calmly.
"You. Big guy. You go through me."
Baldrek halted, surprised. Then he laughed—a deep, thunderous sound.
"You're going to die, blondie."
Dante stepped back, pivoted sideways, and said, "Perfect. I needed a warm-up."
Without hesitation, Baldrek charged again. The clash of their weapons made the entire chamber tremble. They smashed through a pillar and disappeared beyond the great doors, their fight spilling into the castle courtyard—leaving behind a sudden, loaded silence.
Three others remained.
Seyra Vanyrel stepped forward with determination, placing herself between Canon and the stairway. An ironic smile curved her lips as she cracked her iron-clad knuckles.
"I've always punched criminals. But you... You don't look like much of a runner, mister cigarette."
Canon lit another smoke.
"I'll make you eat your ribbon."
On the other side, Vaekas Drelnor crept through the shadows, his predator's smile fixed in place. His two curved daggers gleamed in his hands as he closed in on Helydia.
And finally, Relia Luminus stepped forward—slowly, quietly.
She stopped just a few paces from Samuel.
Their eyes met.
No fear. No hatred.
Only conviction.
And the unspoken promise of battle.