"A much more suitable choice!"
Cadogan Kane, the Supreme Pontifex of the Crimson Knights, oversaw Raphael with joy in his eyes, the mystical staff the boy had received from the Vault of Nautilus glittering with an astral glow.
The white-haired teenager shrugged off the man's praise, deciding to instead go stand beside Akari Ayaka, who had already chosen her own artifact.
It was tightly wrapped around her small frame and shone with a pitch-black, all-encompassing darkness that seemed to devour the light around it.
A cloak, one enriched with a presence dampener, with seals sewn into the hood alongside a small emblem that offered complete recognition erasure.
The moment she placed it upon her head, simultaneously covering her cherry-pink hair, not a single person in the room would know who she was.
It did not matter if she moved within centimeters of their face or screamed in their ear; no matter what, she would be impossible to identify.
At present, she had it dangling from her neck, the confusion caused by her previous usage making her wary to try again.
"What's so special about that staff that made you pick it?"
She spoke aloud as Raphael strolled up beside her.
"The scroll beside it had some troubling information listed. Things such as an increased chance for rebound or backlash while also draining double the mana were some of the most prevalent examples."
He paused, watching the girl's brow contort downward.
"That mustn't be all then."
Whistling quietly to himself, the noble boy nodded, responding without much delay.
"You'd be right. Each spell cast with it is double the potency, with magic at the Sea King level being able to be cast without the risk of combustion. Furthermore, I have a one in ten chance to not lose an ounce of mana upon use."
Akari smiled, the sense of his choice finally beginning to click with her.
"Then, since we've already selected, that would mean that your brother is up next, am I correct?"
While she had at first thought that he was sensitive about the topic of Alaric's presence, she had quickly learned the opposite.
Raphael yearned to be beside his brother, if only for the reason of humiliating him in front of the nobles in the Sea of Wishes.
The boy, however, didn't respond, simply choosing to stare as his identical twin clicked the coin into the slot and vanished with a flash.
Taking a breath, he looked downward towards the dry ground that was covered in moss.
Small tremors reverberated from below, waves of manacules just barely seeping through the soil and triggering microscopic waves of warning throughout the bodies of some of the challengers.
To the white-haired boy, it seemed as if the Knights of Crimson hadn't quite noticed, perhaps his Mark of the Sun allowing him a greater aptitude for such things.
Closing his eyes and exhaling slowly, he acknowledged each vibration, the battle beneath his feet far beyond his view, yet it felt only meters away.
…
Between the two fighting men, their furious strikes and endless bloodshed only sought to undermine the support within the chamber.
Rock gave way, and boulders fell; the magma churned violently below the shimmering seal that was under intense strain.
Even after Cauron Thorn had attempted to regenerate his arm through his power over the dominion of life, there had been no change.
When he blasted Augustus's head clean off, the Emblem of Nyx simply sapped more energy from the Sea King, who had lost the ability to dodge rapidly enough to stay clear of the goo.
Vaulting over a ledge, the orange-haired man kicked his foot backwards, the illusory figure following him momentarily stunned.
Now…
He leaped upward, his hammer glistening with a radiance unknown to the cavern, every surface glowing a blinding saffron.
Twynam's form was vaporized in an instant, his goo soaking the chamber and colliding with Cauron's back before he could even prevent the contact.
Dammit!
Feeling more and more of his energy beginning to drain away, he retreated in a fiery conflict with the man, the ground he had worked to make being lost in seconds.
If this goes on, then he's sure to burn me alive in that magma.
Cauron panted hard, his breath ragged and his mouth dripping with blackish-crimson blood that trickled downward into his lungs.
Noticing the entrance steadily approaching from behind, he began to ponder an escape plan; the conditions of the cavern were too difficult to fight a beast like Augustus Twynam within.
On the surface, he was already a monster, but now, without anywhere to run from the Nyx, I have no hope.
Taking one more jump backwards, he scanned the room for where Aaron Grimstall's battered and likely deceased or fainted body lay.
If he were going to run, there would be no place for a selfish fool who abandoned a helpless child.
Hmm?
Nowhere that he looked could he spot the boy, the only oddity within his vision being that very same orange egg that he had brought in alongside him.
If he tried to look closer, he felt an odd warmth envelop his body, the wounds covering his entire form softening like healing magic.
To have low-level healing magic as an egg? Could it be that of an Apex level?
The thought of that child having a pet terror made the man nearly chuckle; the only thing preventing it was the prospect of that very same child's death.
Flashing to various points along the chamber's walls, he scanned everywhere for the boy, finding nothing but broken rock and blood.
The Seven Head Order hadn't been hiding him either; their priorities focused on the still dying girl on the floor.
Reappearing near the exit, he furrowed his brow, the sound of Twynam approaching sending a warning signal throughout his body.
Where the hell is—
A burning pain erupted from his chest, his eyes darting up to notice his attacker standing only 10 to 20 centimeters in front of him.
His illusory fist tore through the Sea King's center, various organs and bones reduced to lumps of benign tumors within seconds.
Then, he pulled back, removing his arm and allowing the blood to spurt out of his chest like a fountain.
Cauron's face paled, his feet stumbling back slightly as he slammed his hand into the wound, attempting to cauterize it.
It had missed the heart and only destroyed one lung, while his mana core was still being protected by a shield placed around it.
Without any other attacks, he could survive; however, he was unable to defend himself and could no longer hope to win.
Therefore, as Augustus Twynam prepared to strike with his bare and bloody fist once again and take the King of Mysteries' life, the orange-haired man saw himself at the end.
144 years of life oozed out of the man's body as he watched the fist crackle with unrestrained strength.
There was no fear in his heart; the inevitable end he had been awaiting for over a century now stood before his eyes.
Throughout those years, only one regret stood firm and true throughout most of them: the last words he had said to his wife.
They were meaningless at the time, a simple, "Hurry back," without much thought, yet now, as he felt the chime of life around him begin to end, he thought of her face one last time.
His lips curled upward, his orange eyes sparkling with a glittering grin of curiosity as one final question entered his mind.
What comes next?
They were the words he had thought in his final moments, and as the fist went down, he stared with defiance, not even flinching the slightest bit.
KRRSH!
Crimson fluid gushed out in bursts, Augustus Twynam's fist stopping short as he fell to his knees without delay.
TK—K!
The blade was removed from the illusion back as his figure trickled away to particles of black goo, their reach trying to touch their attacker.
It was useless, however, as, to the world itself, he stood as a lone anomaly when it came to form.
As the Emblem of Nyx touched the body of its slayer, it caught ablaze, then exploded into nothingness.
To steal the power of one blessed by a deity was preposterous, the energy lying dormant within Aaron Grimstall denying the outside force entry.
His blond hair was drenched in blood and ash, his gaze trained downward at the disintegrating corpse of the man.
Absolute Tranquility was active, a force that prevented his presence from being found by any creature, human or god.
Not only that, but upon nearly losing consciousness after being slammed into the wall, he had been buried under rubble, his form hidden from the Sea King's search.
Only when he felt the orange-haired man's aura waver did he act, the only reaction he could muster being to stab Ocean's Bane into its back.
His act was successful, the now severely injured Cauron Thorn staring up at him with a surprised expression.
He couldn't quite believe the appearance of the boy at such a critical time, and he had slain a being that had been blessed with the power of Nyx.
The orange-eyed man furrowed his brow, the memories seemingly blurry for some odd reason.
As he pondered the thought for a moment, he noticed the boy's single hand stretched downward, a smile on his face.
"Need a hand?"
The joke was poorly timed and frankly awful, the Sea King grimacing and shaking his head in disgust.
Deciding that it would be more painful to laugh than stand up, he stretched out his pale, white hand towards Grimstall.
Slowly, the gap between their fingers lessened, an odd tension filling the air right before the moment they collided.
"C'mon…"
Clasping the Sea King's hand tight, he felt a burst of something exit his body, a rush of overwhelming confusion entering his mind at once.
Memories burst at the seams while blood bubbled in his veins, green scales growing out of his skin.
Cauron's eyes glazed over, his entire body shook for a singular moment before ceasing all movement.
His skin was as cold as a corpse, his hands trembling enough to further disorient the already agonized boy.
"How…"
The orange-haired man's words came out quietly, less than a whisper, while his eyes reflected something inhuman.
"How could I forget…"
It was as if a dam had burst inside his mind, the history that had been sealed away for so long unveiling itself upon contact with a boy who existed outside of the status quo.
One figure in particular whose appearance in history had been completely erased returned in a flash, their gray eyes, black hair, small frame, and crown made out of stardust itself.
The memories returned at once, the once blank blotches of ink that had been smeared over the history books now returned for Cauron Thorn.