Ethan was gone, what stood in his place was no longer a boy, no longer a son, no longer even a swordsman with reason. It was something hollowed out, driven by instinct alone, by hunger. All that remained was the urge to spill blood.
"Begin!" Wills shouted, his lips stretching into a wide, savage smile as he launched himself forward.
The next instant, his smile vanished.
Ethan wasn't there.
"Where did he.... ?" Wills muttered, his eyes darting across the courtyard, senses flaring too late.
Ethan stood behind him.
The wooden blade tore through fabric and flesh alike, ripping Wills' shirt apart and carving a deep line across his back. Blood spilled freely, dark drops splattering against the stone floor. Yet Wills didn't scream, he didn't even stagger.
He laughed and with a violent twist, Wills swung his wooden sword in a wide arc, the impact smashing into Ethan's belly and sending him flying across the courtyard. Ethan crashed hard, skidding across the ground, but somehow, impossibly, he pushed himself back up, breath ragged, body still moving.
The air grew heavy as the duel continued. This was no longer training. This was no longer a duel.
Bolivia couldn't bear it anymore. She dropped to her knees, hands trembling. She knew this side of her father, and she when he became excited, when the fight turned real. Battles like this never ended cleanly. They ended either broken or dead.
"You think I'll go easy on you because you're Zane's son?" Wills barked, blood dripping from his wounds as he charged again. He laughed sharply. "Think again!"
Wills unleashed his full strength. Blow after blow crashed down on Ethan, each strike powerful enough to shatter bone. Ethan was driven back repeatedly, his guard broken, his footing unstable. Yet every time Wills struck him, blood followed, not Ethan's, but Wills'.
Shallow cuts. Deep gashes. Trails of red marking every exchange.
Ethan didn't react to pain. He didn't react at all.
After a final, thunderous clash of wooden blades, Ethan staggered backward and came to a stop. His head hung low, shoulders rising and falling unevenly. His eyes stared into nothingness.
He wasn't seeing the courtyard or Wills. He wasn't even seeing himself.
Ethan was no longer in control.
DING!
— SYSTEM MESSAGE —
[Executioner Mode Sync: 0%]
Ethan exploded into motion. He attacked without rhythm, without restraint, slashes coming from impossible angles as shadows poured off his body like black dust, clinging to the air behind him.
Each step distorted the space around him, his movements no longer human, no longer learned.
Wills finally felt it.
"This boy… isn't normal," he realized, dread creeping into his bones.
The binding relic Doctor Reinhard had fixed glowed faintly beneath Ethan's clothes, anchoring dark mana that should have torn free long ago. The system seized the moment, recognizing the duel as an opportunity.
— SYSTEM MESSAGE —
[Executioner Mode Sync: 40%]
Ethan's attacks grew faster, stronger and more vicious.
Each strike fed the synchronization, each swing pulling him deeper into something ancient and merciless. Wills tried to counter, tried to regain control, but minutes passed and the tide only worsened.
Soon, all he could do was defend. The man who had once laughed now trembled.
Fear carved itself into his face, terror widening his eyes as Ethan's shadow loomed larger, darker. No one in the Flores household had ever seen Mr. Wills like this, not even his daughters.
Ethan gave him no room to breathe.
Blow after blow rained down until Wills' legs finally gave out, his body slamming into the ground. The courtyard echoed with the sound, dust rising as silence followed.
Ethan stepped forward as he raised the wooden sword, aiming it at Wills' throat.
And then, someone came rushing, holding Ethan from behind.
"Please!"
Ane wrapped her arms around Ethan from behind, clinging to him with everything she had. Her voice trembled, her body shaking as she held him tight.
"Please, Ethan… you can stop now."
Her warmth reached him.
For the first time since he lost control, something pierced the bloodlust. The roaring noise in his head faltered. The shadows around him wavered.
Slowly and painfully, Ethan's body stilled.
His eyes dimmed as reality rushed back all at once. He looked down at his shaking hands. At Wills on the ground. At the fear in everyone's eyes.
Then Ethan broke into tears.
"I... I'm so sorry!" he cried, collapsing as sobs tore from his chest. "I'm so sorry!"
Ane held him tighter, her arms gentle, unwavering. "It's okay," she whispered softly. "It's okay now."
She had never held anyone like this before.
Bolivia watched in stunned silence, heart pounding as realization struck her like a blade.
My little sister… she's fallen for him.
Above them, unseen by all but Ethan...
— SYSTEM MESSAGE —
[Executioner Mode Sync: 100%]
[Cost of Use: Deep Sleep]
The darkness finally claimed him.
Ethan's body went limp in Ane's arms, consciousness slipping away as the system began its processing. The shadows dissolved, the courtyard falling silent once more.
Mr. Wills barked a sharp order, his patience long exhausted.
"Take him to the visitor's room," he said to the maids, turning away before anyone could read his expression too clearly.
Beneath the anger in his voice lay something far worse, humiliation. He had not merely failed to win. He had been overpowered by a teenager.
The doors closed behind Ethan as he was carried away, unconscious.
Wills clenched his jaw. That taste of defeat lingered, so bitter he could hardly bear it.
Bolivia entered the visitors' room quietly.
The air inside was calm, almost sacred, broken only by Ethan's slow, steady breathing. She moved to his side, tending carefully to the cuts and bruises left by the battle. Her movements were practiced, but her eyes lingered longer than necessary.
She straightened, then slowly crouched beside the bed.
Up close, it struck her fully.
She had always known Ethan was charming, calm, weird and kind of unique. But now, with his sharp features softened by sleep and his purple eyes hidden behind closed lids, he looked almost unreal. Beautiful in a way that unsettled her.
She had liked him for a long time, longer than she ever admitted, even to herself. Pride had kept her silent. Fear had sealed her lips.
Now, alone with him, she broke with emotion.
"E-Ethan…" she whispered, hands trembling as she clasped them together. "How do I even say this…"
"I… like you. I really do." Her voice cracked.
Tears welled in her eyes as she continued, words spilling faster now. "What you did today…. I don't know if you're the same person I used to know. The same person I admired."
"The same person I love."
She sat there in silence after that, tears falling freely, cheeks burning crimson as emotions she had buried for months finally surfaced.
The door creaked open. Ane stepped inside and froze.
She had never seen her sister like this. Never seen Bolivia cry. Not once. The sight sent a jolt of panic through her chest.
"Bolivia…?" Ane asked softly. "Are you alright?"
Bolivia stiffened. She wiped her tears in one sharp motion, standing abruptly. Her face hardened, walls snapping back into place as if nothing had happened.
"It's none of your concern," she snapped.
She brushed past Ane roughly, shouldering her aside as she left the room, refusing to look back.
Ane stood there, stunned. She had no idea as to what had happened before her arrival.
*****
Scream tore through the air from the Great Tower of Almsworth.
A lookout had seen an endless black tide crawling across the horizon. A legion of demons, marching with inhuman precision toward the village.
The transponder boomed to life, its metallic echo rolling across rooftops and streets alike.
"ALERT! ALERT! DEMONS APPROACHING, SIX O'CLOCK POSITION! ARRIVAL IN THIRTY-NINE MINUTES!"
A brief pause came in, then the voice screamed again louder and sharper.
"I REPEAT! DEMONS APPROACHING! ETA: THIRTY-NINE MINUTES!"
The warning washed over Almsworth like a death sentence as panic erupted.
Stalls were abandoned mid-sale. Coins scattered across cobblestone streets. The black market shutters slammed shut, the commission hall emptied in seconds, and villagers fled in all directions, dragging children, calling names, locking doors with shaking hands.
Almsworth had not heard that alarm in years. And when it rang, it meant only one thing which was; war.
Mr. Wills reacted instantly.
He stormed into the armory, barking orders with the authority of a man who had faced death more times than he could count.
"Royal guards, assemble!"
Steel sang as blades were drawn. Armor clashed as soldiers dressed with grim efficiency. Mages stepped forward, staffs glowing faintly, faces pale but resolved. Fighters of every rank formed lines, fear sharpened into readiness.
Wills turned sharply to his daughters.
"Inside. Now."
"But Father... " Bolivia began.
"No arguments," he snapped. "Han will stay with you. He's my most trusted soldier."
Mr. Han stepped forward, bowing once, hand already on his weapon.
Wills did not look back as he strode out, leading the gathered soldiers toward the village entrance. The gates of Almsworth loomed ahead, soon to be tested by hell itself.
Far to the west, within the heavily guarded hospital, Zane stood frozen beside Freya's bed.
The alarm reached him too.
He clenched his fists knowing he was Almsworth's strongest blade, its shield and its last hope.
Yet his wife lay before him, breath uneven, sweat on her brow, on the brink of bringing life into a world about to be drowned in blood.
"I can't leave you," he muttered, his voice shaking. "Not now."
A weak hand touched his. Freya smiled soft, unwavering and far braver than he felt.
"Go," she whispered. "Leave me here. I'll be fine."
Zane shook his head. "Freya... "
"This place is protected by royal guards," she said firmly. "And Ethan… Ethan will be fine too."
She squeezed his hand. "If the village falls, none of us will be safe anyway. Go. Do what only you can do."
For a long moment, Zane said nothing.
Then he smiled small, pained, and full of promise.
"I'll be right back."
He kissed her forehead, turned, and left before his resolve could break. Minutes later, hooves thundered as he rode hard toward Almsworth's gates, the weight of an entire village on his back.
*****
In Wills' residence, silence reigned.
Ethan lay still.
Then, his eyes snapped open as chill ran through his spine.
Something dangerous was coming.
Before he could sit up, before he could even draw a breath...
DING!
— GRAND QUEST —
[Grand Quest: UNLOCKED]
[Objective: Kill the Demon Empire]
Ethan's heart slammed against his ribs.
The last time he had seen a Grand Quest, it had been locked. Now, it burned across his vision like a brand.
But the words… [Kill the Demon Empire.]
"What…?" he whispered. His mind raced.
DING!
[Explanation: A Demon Empire is a Rank B demon force capable of erasing an entire territory.]
Ethan's blood went cold.
A Rank B.
He hadn't even seen the goblin demon's movements during his last battle. And now… an entire empire?
"And you expect me to kill that?" he thought, dread coiling in his chest.
Executioner Mode flickered in his thoughts, but he pushed it away. He couldn't control it. Not yet. Borrowing that power again might cost him his soul.
Weak, injured and unprepared Ethan was trapped in his own mind of thoughts...
DING!
— SYSTEM MESSAGE —
[Quest begins in: 10 minutes]
[Failure to comply: Sudden Death]
Ten minutes! Ethan's hands trembled.
If he fought, he would likely die. If he didn't fight, the System would kill him anyway.
Outside, the Almsworth braced for annihilation. Inside, Ethan stared down an impossible choice.
There was only one path left. And it led straight into hell.