After walking for another hour or two, Evanstone finally reached Eurat Village. The journey had been long and quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of the evening wind and the gentle breathing of the little girl in his arms. Maria had fallen asleep somewhere along the way, her small head resting against his chest—unsurprising, given the exhaustion she must have felt after everything that had happened.
"Maria!" a woman's voice cried out suddenly.
Evanstone looked up to see a frail-looking woman running toward him, her steps uneven and hurried. Her face was pale, eyes wide with fear and worry, and her clothes hung loosely on her thin frame.
Must be her mother, Evanstone thought.
He slowed his steps, lowering himself slightly as the woman approached. When she reached him, he gently handed Maria into her arms. The woman clutched her daughter tightly, trembling as though she might never let go. The sudden warmth of the embrace stirred Maria awake; she blinked, confused at first, then smiled faintly when she realized whose arms she was in.
Evanstone watched quietly, a small, tired smile forming on his lips. After everything the child had endured, seeing her safe again brought a sense of relief—one that, even if brief, felt well-earned.
Maria wriggled free from her mother's embrace and turned toward Evanstone with a bright, eager smile.
"Mother, this is Mr. Evanstone!" she said, her voice full of pride. "He saved me when that bad, evil noble lady tried to throw me into the dungeon! And he also brought medicine for you and Mina!"
Her mother blinked in confusion, her tired eyes flicking from Maria to the man standing before her. "Huh?" she murmured, still trying to make sense of her daughter's words. Seeing her bewilderment, Evanstone gave a calm nod and explained everything briefly—the cruel noblewoman, the confrontation, and how he'd found Maria and brought her home safely with medicine in hand.
When he finished, Maria's mother's eyes welled up. Overcome with emotion, she dropped to her knees, folding her hands together. "Thank you… thank you for everything you've done for us, sir."
Evanstone's expression softened. "What are you doing, Miss? Please, don't kneel." His tone was gentle but firm as he reached down, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders to help her stand. "There's no need for that."
He then reached into his pouch and took out two small blue vials filled with shimmering liquid. "Here, take these medicines. They should help with your illness."
Maria's mother carefully took them, holding them as though they were the most precious things in the world. "Thank you, truly."
"Well then," Evanstone said after a short pause, straightening his posture. "I should be on my way now." He leaned down and gently patted Maria's head, a faint, almost fatherly smile crossing his face.
"You're leaving already?" Maria asked softly, her tone heavy with disappointment.
"Yes, I have some matters to take care of," he replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "But don't worry. I'll come back soon to visit you and your family again."
Maria nodded, though her eyes still lingered on him. "Thank you again, Mr. Evanstone!" she said, waving as he turned to leave.
Evanstone lifted a hand in farewell and continued down the quiet path, his figure slowly fading into the moonlit night. Maria stood there with her mother, watching him go until he disappeared completely from sight, the cool night breeze softly brushing through her hair as if carrying his promise with it.
He let out a quiet sigh as he walked down a forested path, the night air cool and still.
"Well, time to head toward Soaring Heights," Evanstone murmured, glancing up at the vast night sky.
Creak!
The stillness shattered. The sound of bending wood echoed faintly through the trees. Evanstone froze mid-step, his instincts sharpening. Slowly, he turned his head. From the shadows behind him, two figures emerged—towering, ominous, and all too familiar.
The first was a hulking man clad in dark metallic-green armor, jagged spikes jutting from his shoulders, a tattered black cloak trailing behind him like smoke. In his hand, he held a long, slender rapier that gleamed wickedly beneath the twin moons.
Beside him stood another—a brute in armor of deep, molten orange, the plates looking almost alive, as though fused to his flesh. Draped over his shoulders hung a silver cloak, and in his massive hands rested a colossal battle axe that shimmered faintly under the moonlight.
Evanstone's gaze hardened. His voice, low and sharp, cut through the silence.
"Edore, the Green Menace… and Ifren, the Executioner." His grip tightened around the hilt of his broken sword. "What luck I must have—to run into you two tonight."
He drew his blade, its fractured edge catching a glint of moonlight.
Ifren chuckled darkly. "Not luck, but misfortune," he said in a mocking tone. "It's we who are lucky. We saw you earlier in Eurat Village—such a touching little moment you had there, with that woman and her child."
Evanstone's blood ran cold. His eyes narrowed, and his voice turned to steel. "Don't you dare lay a hand on them!" he warned, his tone deadly. "They have nothing to do with me."
Ifren's grin widened, cruel and gleaming beneath his helmet. "Too late."
He reached behind him—and with a sickening thud, three severed heads rolled across the ground.
Evanstone's breath caught. His eyes widened in horror as the pale moonlight revealed familiar faces—Maria… her mother… and a small girl who could only be Mina.
"Why… why… why did you do that?!" Evanstone's voice cracked with fury and disbelief, his hands trembling around his blade.
"Why?" Edore sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Why would we not? After all, killing you and anyone associated with you is only natural."
"But they were innocent," Evanstone said, his voice tight with anger.
"Innocent? Nah," Ifren scoffed, a cruel smile on his face. "Your association with them makes them traitors. Besides, we don't care about that much. We are selfish men, and we only care about ourselves.
"True. Anyway, we've talked too much!" Edore snapped.
With that, Edore lunged forward, his rapier flashing under the twin moons. The blade whistled through the air, aimed to cleave Evanstone clean in half—but Evanstone moved in a blur, his broken sword rising just in time to meet the strike.
Clang!
Sparks scattered like fireflies as metal met metal.
"Revenge Coat!" Evanstone shouted, his voice echoing through the night. A dark aura flared around him—an invisible wave of force rippled outward, hurling Edore backward.
The green-armored warrior grunted as a deep gash tore across his shoulder. Blood spattered the ground before he quickly raised his hand. A faint green glow radiated from his palm, knitting the wound shut as steam hissed from the injury.
"Edore, you idiot!" Ifren barked, his tone sharp and irritated. "Have you forgotten who we're dealing with?! He's one of the Ten Commandments—the Commandment of Selflessness!"
Edore's eyes narrowed beneath his helm, his jaw tightening.
"Any physical attack you throw at him gets reflected back at twice its strength," Ifren continued, his voice low but urgent. "We'll have to use magic, not brute force!"
But Evanstone was already moving.
"Too late… Darkness Blade!"
He swung his broken sword, and from its fractured edge burst a massive crescent of black energy. The wave carved through the night like a blade of pure shadow, devouring the moonlight in its wake.
"Dodge!" Ifren shouted.
Both men leaped aside just in time as the dark slash tore through the earth where they had stood. Trees splintered, their trunks disintegrating into black dust, and the ground itself split apart—shearing clean through a nearby cliff that collapsed moments later in a thunderous crash.
The air quivered with lingering power, and then silence.
"Such… power," Edore muttered, his voice low and shaken. His rapier trembled slightly in his grip. "He's a monster!"
"So are we!" Ifren roared in defiance, slamming the blade of his massive axe into the ground. "Volcanic Explosion!"
The earth beneath them cracked open with a deafening boom. From the fissures, molten magma erupted in fiery bursts, twisting and surging toward Evanstone like serpents of living flame.
Evanstone's eyes narrowed. He kicked off the ground, leaping back with effortless speed as the molten stream scorched past him, turning the soil beneath to glass. The heat washed over him like a furnace wind, but he didn't falter.
He raised his broken blade, its jagged edge beginning to shimmer with a dark, malevolent glow. Shadows coiled around the sword like living smoke.
"Darkness Lance!" he intoned, his voice echoing through the night.
From the tip of his blade, several spears of condensed darkness burst forth, slicing through the air in a deadly barrage. The projectiles howled as they hurtled toward the two holy knights.
"Earth Shield!" Edore shouted, thrusting his rapier into the ground.
"Magma Shield!" Ifren followed, slamming his axe beside it.
The ground erupted upward, forming two barriers—one of solid rock, the other of molten magma. The shields flared brilliantly, fusing together into a burning wall that absorbed the oncoming assault.
The darkness lances struck, detonating against the barrier in a flurry of sparks and black smoke. The impact shook the earth, hurling debris into the air.
When the dust settled, both knights still stood behind their fused shield, the magma dripping and hissing as it cooled—but their breathing was heavy.
Evanstone, standing amidst the rising heat and ash, lowered his sword slightly. His gaze was calm—cold, and unreadable.
"You two have improved since the last time we met," Evanstone said, his tone calm, almost indifferent.
"We've improved, thanks to the humiliating beating you gave us," Ifren said, a mocking grin on his face—before his head suddenly toppled from his shoulders.
Edore's rapier slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground as he froze, wide-eyed and trembling. The world seemed to tilt around him as he stared at Evanstone.
No… I am not going to die!
Edore tried to run, but his legs suddenly buckled beneath him. He fell to the ground, scrambling desperately, but each attempt to rise ended in failure.
"Spare your energy," Evanstone said, his voice cold and precise. "Those who harbor selfishness in their hearts—like you, Edore, a man entirely consumed by self-interest—will lose the ability to stand in my presence."
"Impossible… when did you acquire such an ability?" Edore gasped, fear cracking his voice.
"Oh, I've had it for some time," Evanstone replied, stepping closer. "In fact, many of the other Commandments possess similar abilities." He crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to Edore's level, his expression unreadable.
"Then why hasn't anyone heard of this before?!" Edore yelled, panic rising.
"Well… let's say we aren't allowed to use it freely. Besides, I don't like using this ability often. Though unfortunately for you, you won't be alive to tell anyone about it," Evanstone said, his words calm but laced with finality.
Edore's body began to warp and change, his limbs shrinking and compressing unnaturally, as if deflating like a balloon.
"What's… happening?!" he shrieked, terror in his eyes.
"Not much," Evanstone said, stepping back. "It's just the secondary effect of my ability. Your body will deflate and decay from within. Now… goodbye."
With that, Evanstone turned and walked away, leaving Edore to his grim fate, the once proud knight now helpless and collapsing in on himself.