Returning to moments after the incident with the Sons of Zephyr on the way to Geduld.

  In the desolate territories between Haniel and Geduld, Marchioness Sabnock, leader of the Sons of Zephyr, meditated. She was a woman of fine features, pale skin, and whitish hair, and her thoughts were turbulent. ?It's dangerous. Such an entity shouldn't exist in the mind of a simple boy?.

  Suddenly, a sound broke the silence, like a beast fleeing in the distance, a roar that grew louder and louder.

  —Ajad, quick, a mind stone! —Sabnock ordered.

  An acolyte handed her a crystal, replacing the one she had spent in her flight from the manabolt. She channeled Cognis, extending her senses to find out what was approaching. The disturbance stopped, but she could recognize its essence: resentment. Not just any resentment, but one forged in the injustice of that very kingdom.

  —Stay here. I will go find out what is happening —she said, approaching cautiously.

  In a clearing, she found Garmo, badly wounded. Upon quickly reading his memories, she understood who he was and that, once again, the boy Silas had something to do with it. ?This has to be solved at the root?, she thought.

  The next day, in a place shrouded in shadows, two silhouettes communicated. One was ethereal, almost unreal; the other was Marchioness Sabnock, with her hand on a large Cognis stone the size of a melon.

  —Greetings, my King. Your daughter Sabnock reports something of utmost urgency —she said—. We encountered an entity in a boy's mind. It seems to know the Order and is extremely powerful. It is hostile toward us. We must do something.

  The ethereal being's voice made no noise, but resonated directly in Sabnock's head. ?If what you say is true, all traces must be eliminated. I will see what I can find out with the spies at the Festival of Promises. Unfortunately, we will have to sacrifice some to ensure the Order's integrity. I will send Barbatos to take charge. May the wind guide you, daughter?.

  The presence faded.

  —May the wind guide you too, my King —whispered Sabnock.

  In the present where Silas had gone to meet Zael, in the inventory room, the illusion shattered. All the implements vanished, revealing Silas and Zael unconscious on the floor, along with another legionary. Standing over them was a fourth figure wearing a helmet that hid his face.

  —Let's see what has caused such a stir —said the man, while his left eye began to glow with an emerald light. He covered the glowing eye with one hand and with the other, took Silas's head.

  —Hello, stranger —said Sister Lucia. They were in the chapel, the reception room in Silas's mind. —Hello, sister —replied the helmeted legionary, Barbatos, observing the place with meticulous curiosity. —May I know what you want? —asked Sister Lucia, her tone hardening. —I don't answer to someone who hides behind other faces —he retorted.

  Sister Lucia's expression turned serious. Her face rippled and changed, transforming into a darker being, covered in scars and blood, with eyes black and empty as the universe. A tattered hood hid much of his body. —Do you prefer this? —said the entity, its voice an echo of ancient pain.

  —We could talk that way. I am Duke Barbatos. What is yours? —Wow, a Duke. What an honor to have someone of your lineage, but since you haven't told me your real name, I'll do the same. I think they call me Adriel, or something like that —responded the dark being with a disturbingly kind voice. —So it was true that you knew us. You must already know why I came —said Barbatos. —Something like that. But I suppose you don't expect me not to put up resistance, do you? —said Adriel. —It is never without resistance. Well, here we go —said Barbatos.

  Barbatos's body dissolved and reformed into the figure of Professor Richard, dagger in hand. Simultaneously, the chapel crumbled, replaced by the dusty training field of the Lampone school.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The dark being, Adriel, stopped the dagger with his cloak. Although it moved like fabric, the sound was that of two metals clashing. Barbatos threw the dagger as a distraction and, with blinding speed, appeared at Adriel's back with a new blade materialized out of thin air. However, the strike passed through a remnant image; Adriel was no longer there. A rain of daggers conjured from the air filled the field, but the entity dodged them with minimal effort. In the last throw, Barbatos lunged, but just before impact, his form swelled, transforming into the burly legionary Ronny. The blow, now charged with immense force, sent Adriel crashing into a grove that wasn't there seconds before.

  —I think this works better —said Barbatos with Ronny's voice. —Well, then I'll have to start attacking too —responded Adriel, materializing a black, opaque sword in his hand.

  He lunged at Barbatos, aiming a quick and precise blow at the neck. Barbatos blocked with his forearm shield, but the black sword became intangible upon touching the metal, passing through it as if it were smoke. The edge bit into the flesh underneath. Before it reached the neck, Barbatos hit him with the other hand to push him away. No blood came out of Ronny's severed arm; inside he was like a mannequin. The cut limb crumbled into dust while a new one grew from the stump.

  Adriel lunged again, aiming for the head. This time, Barbatos blocked the wrist wielding the sword, not the blade, and counterattacked with his free arm. Adriel took the hit, but in the blink of an eye, he had turned his sword to cut Barbatos's attacking arm as well, diminishing the force of the impact. While Barbatos regenerated his limb, Adriel adopted a defensive stance, using his free hand on the spine of the sword as a pseudo shield. The tactic was a deception. When Barbatos attacked, his fist went through Adriel's improvised shield to meet the blade head-on, which cut diagonally through Ronny's body. The sword seemed to ignore the armor, cutting the inner form as if everything that wasn't a living being were made of water.

  Ronny's body vanished, replaced by the figure of a legionary in shining red armor: Andros. The setting changed to a ruined city that Adriel recognized with painful familiarity. Barbatos, as Andros, unsheathed a purple sword and attacked. Adriel dedicated himself to dodging, his movements so fast they sometimes seemed to float, his cloak fluttering like a ghost. He didn't lose sight of the other sword at Barbatos's waist: the unmistakable Damocles.

  Barbatos threw a giant rock at Adriel and exploded it with a punch, creating a cloud of dust. In the confusion, he managed to hit Adriel's hand, sending the black sword flying into the distance. He tried to retrieve it, but he moved as if in slow motion; Barbatos's purple sword emitted a gravitational field that imprisoned him. Before he could free himself, Barbatos already had his hand on the hilt of Damocles.

  A massive explosion disintegrated the entire block. When the dust settled, Adriel was in the center of the crater, covered by his cloak, his skin burned. But slowly, the missing flesh began to regenerate. —That won't work twice. You should have known that after seeing the memory —said Adriel, smiling, while his black sword, controlled remotely, pierced the heart of Andros's body—. I think you'll have to do something better.

  Andros's body transformed into a woman with light armor and two swords. The environment changed again to a devastated Lampone, as if a hurricane had swept through it. —Damn, not her —whispered Adriel.

  The combat turned into carnage. The woman was an expert, cutting the parts Adriel left exposed, but they regenerated. Adriel's black sword also wounded her, but her cuts closed even faster. Adriel's regeneration began to slow down, while hers accelerated. Suddenly, the black sword, instead of returning to his hand, pierced him through the stomach. There was no blood. The blade had become ethereal inside his body.

  A dense, unnatural aura began to emanate from Adriel. His body began to mutate, the sword transmuting inside him as if it were melting, and black scales sprouted from his skin. —I present myself. I am Adriel, the Angel of Death —he said, his voice distorted.

  He vanished, appearing in front of Barbatos to strike his chest. His fists now had the same ability as his sword, passing through the armor and wounding the woman inside. She spat blood. The battle had turned around. Now it was Barbatos who dodged desperately.

  —I think I have to make a request —said Barbatos, but with a different voice, one that made even that dark being tremble.

  His body began to change, transforming into a man in armor with white designs, shining with the holy metal of the Devotees. With every step he took, the dark being came undone, returning to his human form, a young man in worn clothes and a ring stained with dried blood hanging from his neck. Barbatos passed him by, ignoring him, and walked toward a specific door in a new, less desolate Lampone. The door to Don Alfonse's workshop.

  He knocked on the door, which made a dry sound in the silence of the scene. —Stop! I surrender! —shouted Adriel, his voice broken with panic—. Just get away from that door. I beg you. —Thank you for your cooperation —said Barbatos, returning to the form of the initial legionary—. In another life, we could have been brothers in arms. May the wind be with you.

  His left eye shone. The dark being faded until only a black sword remained, which also dissolved.

  In the inventory room of the Jared I Academy. —Well, it's all done —said Barbatos in the real world, and walked away.

  After his departure, the legionary controlled by Barbatos stood up, stabbed a syringe into his chest, and exploded.

  The official report, based on the memory Zael fervently believed was his own, would blame the Demat family.