Azriel considered manipulating them again—but decided against it. He'd just feel too guilty.
The group split into two separate parties, isolating themselves from each other. One group fled, with Archil giving chase—most of the resistance members were there. Meanwhile, Gio and Azriel took the front line against Lucia, Lysara guarded the rear with Brikka, and Corren, while not much of a fighter, prepared his support spells. He specialized in buffs.
Lucia moved like lightning—almost blinding. She dashed at Gio with her short sword, but he blocked the strike. Azriel swung a punch, but she dodged and darted backward.
"Is that all you got?!" she sneered.
Corren was ready. He cast strength and speed buffs on Azriel and Gio, while Brikka used the time to summon her Igre spirits—tiger-like beasts that walked on two legs and were monstrously strong.
Lysara unleashed a powerful blast of wind at Lucia, but she was fast enough to slice through it. Gio charged with his axe—his raw power stunned Lucia, forcing her to retreat. In that moment, Brikka's beast launched Azriel forward. He landed a solid punch to Lucia's jaw.
But she was done playing.
Her short sword morphed into a massive blade. With one swing at Gio, she sent him flying. He managed to block, but the impact left a mark. Lysara barraged her with gusts of wind, while Brikka's beasts pressed the attack, cornering Lucia.
With a single, vicious swing, Lucia sliced through the Igre spirits like paper.
Azriel seized the opening and landed a kick to her thigh, followed by an uppercut—but Lucia countered with a brutal kick that sent him flying. Lysara caught him midair with a cushion of wind.
Brikka and her beast returned to the fight—she fired darts from her blowgun, but Lucia sliced them mid-air. Her oversized blade gave Gio just enough time to recover and swing at her. But Lucia was too strong. She caught the axe with her bare hand—blood dripping from her palm—and drove a brutal punch into Gio's face.
Lysara snatched Gio back with a gust of wind. Just then, Azriel, who had vanished moments earlier, came crashing down from above, slamming his fist into Lucia's skull. It was a hard hit—but not hard enough.
Lucia retaliated, slicing Azriel across the torso, leaving a deep, gaping wound. Gio used the moment to kick her away, buying time.
But for Azriel?
Lysara was in shock. She caught him and immediately began inspecting the wound. Brikka, her beast, and Corren stepped forward to stall Lucia.
"AZRIEL!!!" Lysara screamed, trying to treat the wound. But Azriel stopped her.
"GET EVERYONE AND RUN."
He knew what the poison on Lucia's blade meant. He was going to die. But he also knew he would come back. His concern now was the flare of power about to surge beneath the sewers of Seight.
"WHAT—NO! I CAN'T LEAVE YOU! YOU'LL DIE!" Lysara protested.
Gio interrupted her. He knew what was coming. He grabbed Lysara firmly and turned to Brikka and Corren.
"Get to the others. Escape Archil and Lucia."
Lysara, already grieving so much, didn't want to lose Azriel too. But then Gio leaned in and whispered:
"He'll come back."
His expression was dead serious. Lysara didn't understand, but she believed him.
Lucia watched with amusement. "Aw, how touching. Letting your little friends run off without you."
Azriel, bloodied and broken, stood up and raised his fists into a fighting stance.
"Look—I'm about to die. And there's a reason I let them go."
He felt it—a sudden surge of energy. He charged at her. They exchanged blow after blow, Azriel being cut down piece by piece. Lysara, running, looked back in horror. Gio held her back.
Azriel fought with just his head and one arm, but he kept going. Lucia was both impressed and disturbed.
"You fight like you're immortal," she said, smiling.
Azriel returned her smile, headbutting and kicking, guarding with his lone arm. Then Lucia struck—her final blow sliced him in half, from the leg up to the torso.
And then—
Azriel opened his eyes.
He was back in the mirror room.
This time, the orchestra played a soft, melodic symphony. The mirrors dropped, revealing Lucia's corpse—mutilated, missing limbs, gushing blood. His own corpse stared at him too, but this time Azriel knew Lucia was the key.
He touched her body.
And relived her life—every weakness, every memory.
Then—
Boom.
Azriel woke up. It hadn't been long. He was whole again—his clothes in tatters.
Across the continent, a pulse of energy was felt. Lucia and Archil froze. They had captured the others, but something was wrong. They rushed back.
Down the corridor, Lucia stopped in her tracks.
There stood Azriel.
Alive. Whole.
A broken brass knuckle on his left hand. A chipped dagger in his right.
"Missed me?" he said.
Lucia couldn't speak. Azriel's presence overflowed like a flood.
Archil reacted first—charging at blinding speed.
Azriel sidestepped and stabbed him clean through the neck.
"You've got a bad habit," Azriel said coldly, twisting the blade. "Always favoring the right and going for the head."
He kicked Archil down, killing him. Then, taking the spear, he pointed it at Lucia.
"Your memories are quite useful. Even showed me his little tricks. Now Lucia—let's dance."
Lucia snapped out of her trance and lunged.
Azriel was ready.
He had inherited her speed. They were evenly matched now. Though Lucia's heavy sword slowed her slightly, her strength made her dangerous. Azriel blocked each blow. They clashed—hard and fast.
The fight lasted exactly two minutes and three seconds.
Lucia's sword lodged in the socket of Azriel's shoulder.
Azriel, panting, smiled.
Then he drove his spear into her gut.
Victory was his.
Azriel didn't waste a second.
He rushed to where the others were held and cut them free, helping the resistance members to their feet. The moment his hands touched theirs, a tremor rippled across the world—another sign of his resurrection.
The resistance stared at him in disbelief, some kneeling, some whispering prayers, others simply frozen.
"We'll meet again," Azriel told them, voice steady. "This isn't over."
He didn't wait for thanks. Gio and Lysara were already moving. He followed.
They ran—out of the sewers, into the dying light of the city.
They ran.
And ran.
And ran.
By nightfall, they had reached a narrow cave hidden deep in the craggy mountain range bordering Neuraleth. The wind howled outside, but the cave was still. Safe, for now.
Gio leaned back against the cave wall, panting, sweat rolling down his face. And then, he smiled. "Great work… Let's just hope they don't find us here."
Lysara didn't speak.
She stood still, wide-eyed, staring at Azriel.
Her mouth opened but no words came. Her eyes were filled with confusion… and something else. Fear? Awe? She had seen him die—cut in half. She had felt the finality of it.
Azriel sat in the corner, unwrapping a cloth and drinking an antidote for the poison. His skin had already begun to recover, the wound on his shoulder a faint scar.
Then he looked at her—calm, regretful.
"I'm sorry for hiding it, Lysara," he said softly. "I don't die."
Silence.
Lysara finally found her voice, hoarse and trembling.
"I saw you die, Azriel. I felt it. You were—" she choked on the words, "—gone."
"I was," he said. "And I'll be gone again. Probably more than once."
Gio watched silently, sensing the weight of the moment.
"But how?" she asked. "Why you?"
Azriel hesitated. The fire crackled softly beside them.
"I don't know everything yet," he admitted. "But I know it started long before I ever picked up a weapon. Before I even knew what the Graces really were."
He looked into the darkness of the cave entrance, where the city's fires still faintly flickered on the horizon.
"There's something inside me… something ancient. When I die, I go to a place made of mirrors. I see things. People. Their lives. Their pain. And when I return—I come back with more than just memories."
Lysara stepped forward, quieter now. "And Lucia?"
"I saw every second of her life," Azriel said. "Her strength, her guilt, her rage. I saw the things she couldn't forget… and the things she wanted to."
Lysara swallowed. "Then what does that make you?"
Azriel didn't answer at first. Then:
"I don't know."
He looked at her, his expression unreadable.
"I don't know what I am, Lysara. But I know what I'm not. I'm not like them. I'm not a god."
He stood, tossing the empty vial aside.
"But I won't stop until every last one of them is buried. Because whatever brought me back didn't do it for nothing."
Two of her underlings—gone. Their life-threads severed. The backlash from their deaths hit her like daggers, sharp and sudden. But worse than the pain was the weight she now felt—the eyes of the other Graces, pressing down on her like vultures sensing weakness.
The surge.
She had felt it, just like they had. A power too raw, too wild, too wrong to be ignored. And now, it was confirmed.
The surge had happened in Neuraleth.
Her territory.
At first, she had feared the resistance might become a problem—a festering wound in the slums. But now? They were nothing. Insignificant compared to the anomaly that had just been reborn under her nose.
This… this was the true threat.
Her crimson eyes bled fury, streaks of red dripping like tears as her underlings tried to calm her—but their words were ash in her ears. They were insects, gnats, buzzing around a beast that no longer wanted to be caged.
And then—
The castle shook.
Cracks spread like veins through the marble floors. Statues crumbled. Windows shattered.
And in a single, deafening blast—
The entire castle exploded.
A storm of energy radiated outward, a tidal wave of her rage made manifest.
From within the dust and ruin, Velmira hovered above the wreckage, her voice a shriek that cracked the sky:
"I WILL FUCKING FIND YOU!"