Harold stumbled back as the aura from his younger brother struck the air around him. This was no longer mere dark energy. Behind William's shadow, three terrifying heads faintly emerged: a cat, a toad, and a man wearing an ancient crown.
"Bael..." Silas hissed from a distance, his voice trembling with terror. "The first king of the seventy-two entities. William, what have you done?"
The Cursed Union
William did not answer with words, but with a horrific transformation. His pale skin began to be covered in fine scales, and his voice now sounded hoarse, layered like thousands of crawling insects.
"Bael did not find me, Silas," William said, stepping forward slowly, each footstep leaving a charred mark on the palace marble. "I found him. Beneath the cold ruins of Isfellan, when my legs were crushed and my lungs were filled with dust, I called upon the oldest frequency. He offered the power to rise, and I offered a vessel carrying the royal blood of Oureum."
William raised his hand, and suddenly the three shadow entities that had appeared earlier were instantly absorbed into his body, making him grow larger and more intimidating. "The Church seeks Rainnes because they want a 'tool' they can control. But Bael wants me because I share his grudge against this arrogant world."
The Dilemma of Anne and Harold
Anne watched the scene from the balcony in horror. She realized why her Solomon Protocol felt so heavy upon activation; it was resonating with the Bael residing within William's body.
"William, stop!" Anne cried out. "If you let Bael take over completely, there will be nothing left of you. You will only be a bridge for Aethelgard's destruction!"
"Destruction is the beginning of creation, Anne," William looked at her with eyes that were now entirely metallic silver, characteristic of Bael's frequency. "After I level this city and destroy this cowardly church, we will rebuild Oureum. Not with noisy steam, not with fragile magic, but with pure immortality."
The Brother's Confrontation
Harold activated the maximum steam valves on his armor. The roar of the engine on his back sounded like the growl of a wild beast, attempting to match Bael's frequency.
"You speak of rebuilding, yet you stand upon the corpses of your own people," Harold raised his sword, the tip of the blade beginning to glow bright blue from extreme heat. "William de Croul, as the Northern General and your brother, I will free you from this burden... even if I must send you back into the darkness."
William smiled—a smile that no longer contained human emotion. "Try it, Brother. Let us see if your Isfellan steel can wound the King of Kings."
At that exact moment, William vanished into the mist, only to reappear instantly before Harold, slamming a fist cloaked in purple fire directly into the chest of Harold's steel armor, creating a deafening boom.