An atmosphere of bewilderment filled the chamber following the Dark Knight’s words. The air grew heavy, almost electric, as the artifact hanging from Biel’s neck began to emit an intense glow, pulsing with a life of its own.
Something extraordinary happened. The light did not merely illuminate the room; the object itself seemed to dissolve, fusing into Biel’s skin. A purple aura—dense and majestic—unfurled across his entire body, enveloping him in a cocoon of crackling energy. When the radiance finally receded, the crystal's physical form was gone, replaced by black raiment, elegant and foreign to all those present.
The group stood stunned, unable to look away from their companion’s new form.
Easton leaned slightly toward Xanthe, his eyes fixed on the change. "Have you noticed how he's dressed?"
Xanthe nodded slowly, analyzing every detail with a critical eye. "Yes... everything about him is dark, but it’s not simple. He’s wearing a fitted black jacket, straight-cut and well-structured. The lapels are sharp, as if he meant to look formal... but without overdoing it."
"Exactly," Easton agreed, pointing with a subtle gesture. "And underneath, he’s wearing a black shirt, buttoned all the way to the collar. It gives him a more serious, controlled air."
Acalia, who had been observing in silence, stepped forward, captivated by the perfection of the attire. "The trousers match perfectly as well—tailored, without a single wrinkle, maintaining a firm silhouette. There is nothing out of place. Even the belt is discreet. Black, with a simple rectangular metal buckle. He isn't looking for attention through accessories."
Kael watched from the back, his mind racing as he processed Biel’s image. It’s as if the entire outfit was designed to project authority... mystery, he thought, a shiver running down his spine. Yes. It isn't just black clothing. It is presence. He is someone who knows the power he holds... and he doesn't need to prove it with ornaments. There is no doubt; he is the one chosen by the fragment.
For his part, Biel—feeling the artifact now vibrating within him like a second soul—looked down at the Dark Knight. The immense armored figure, which had previously inspired terror, was now kneeling before him in absolute devotion.
The Dark Knight broke the silence, his voice resonating with a mix of solemnity and relief. "My name is Ylfur," he said, slowly raising his gaze to Biel’s face. "And for two hundred years, my lord, I have waited for you. I spent all this time protecting this seal. However, my true loyalty was not to the seal itself, but to my lord, Monsfil, the Demon King of Eternal Destruction. And now, at last, he is free from the seal and resides within you, young Bearer."
Biel’s eyes widened in surprise at the name, an echo of recognition striking his memory. Around him, Xanthe and Easton exchanged looks filled with awe and caution; both of their hands went instinctively toward their weapons.
"Monsfil? The Demon King?" Acalia asked, stepping forward in disbelief. "What does this mean? Why do you say that Demon King lives inside Biel now?"
Ylfur nodded, the movement heavy and metallic, as if he had expected that question for centuries. "Allow me to tell you a story, young Bearer. Two hundred years ago, Monsfil was not simply a Demon King, as many believe. He was a protector. His dominion over destruction was not meant to cause chaos, but to preserve balance. Where plagues devastated kingdoms, he eradicated them. Where corrupt armies slaughtered innocents, he destroyed them without mercy."
Biel felt an internal jolt. That is exactly what Monsfil told me, he said to himself, the puzzle pieces snapping into place in his mind.
"And that makes him a hero?" Xanthe interrupted, frowning with her arms crossed, skeptical. "It sounds more like the tale of a tyrant who decides what deserves to live and what doesn't."
Ylfur turned toward her. Although his face remained covered by the dark helm, his voice softened, showing a blend of ancient regret and unshakable conviction. "I understand. It is difficult to grasp for those who did not live through those times. I once thought the same. I was a young knight fighting for my kingdom, believing justice was simple: good against evil. But when my home was ravaged by an unstoppable corruption, neither my skills nor those of my allies could stop it. Then, he arrived."
Ylfur paused, and the weight of the memories seemed to bow his armored shoulders, carrying centuries of untold history.
"Monsfil destroyed everything that was infected—even that which might have been saved. At that moment, I hated him. But when I saw the result... I understood. The destruction he brought was not blind; it was surgical. He saved my kingdom from a worse fate, though the price was high. I decided to swear loyalty to him—not out of fear, but because I recognized that his actions, however harsh, were necessary."
The silence in the chamber became absolute, dense. Biel swallowed hard, the sound of his own throat seeming thunderous as he processed Ylfur’s justification.
"And what happened then? Why was Monsfil sealed?" Acalia asked, casting an inquisitive look that searched for holes in the story.
Ylfur lowered his head slightly, a gesture of submission to the memory of his former lord.
"Mortals did not understand his purpose. They saw him as a threat, and the Hero chosen by the Fragments led a crusade to seal him away. Monsfil did not fight his fate. He knew the world was not ready to understand him. But before being sealed, he gave me one final order: to protect this Fragment until someone worthy to bear his power arrived."
Upon hearing the last part, Kael could not help but shudder in surprise. He took a few steps back, seeking the shadows to hide his expression while his mind worked at a mile a minute.
Wow, so that's what Maito made him believe, Kael thought, analyzing the knight’s devotion. That spell worked on the intermediate-rank demons after all.
"And you believe I am that person?" Biel asked, his voice full of doubt, feeling small before the vastness of the destiny being offered to him.
"I do not believe it. I know it," Ylfur replied firmly, his tone vibrating like steel. "When I felt your energy enter this world, I knew the time had come. The seal responded to you because Monsfil now lives within you. His ideals, his power... everything is tied to you. Therefore, young Bearer, I shall follow you from this day forth. My loyalty is not just to Monsfil, but to whoever continues his legacy."
Biel took a step back, completely overwhelmed by the declaration.
"Wait, what...?" he exclaimed, the composure of his new, elegant suit contrasting with his evident panic. "I barely understand what’s going on. I don't know if I can be the person you expect me to be."
Ylfur placed a firm hand on the ground, pushing himself up with an elegance that belied the weight of his armor. The metal rang with a deep, hollow sound as he took a step toward Biel, closing the distance between the ancient guardian and his new master.
"No one is ready to carry such a heavy weight at first," his voice came steady and understanding. "But the fact that my lord chose you means you have the potential. I will guide you and protect you, as I did for my lord."
Acalia crossed her arms, closing her stance and watching Ylfur with clear distrust. Her eyes searched for any sign of betrayal in the Dark Knight. "And what happens if you decide Biel isn't worthy? Will you become our enemy again?"
Ylfur turned his helmet slowly toward her. Though the visor hid his face, his tone conveyed a disarming sincerity. "It is not my place to judge him. My duty is to serve my lord’s Bearer and ensure he does not commit the same mistakes that led to the sealing. That includes protecting him even from himself, if necessary."
Biel fell silent for a moment, absorbing the gravity of the promise. He took a deep breath and looked up, replacing his previous fear with a new determination. "If you truly believe I can do this, then I accept your help. But right now, I need time to understand what this power means and how to use it correctly."
Ylfur bowed his head, accepting the condition with solemnity. "That is all I can ask, young Bearer. From this day on, my sword is yours."
With those words, the knight bowed in a respectful reverence, sealing his loyalty to Biel. Despite the doubts that still weighed on his shoulders, Biel felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest. Though the path ahead remained uncertain and dark, he knew he would no longer walk it alone.
However, peace would not last long.
The air in the chamber suddenly grew tense—dense and suffocating—as if an invisible and colossal presence had descended upon them, crushing the atmosphere. Xanthe, who had remained silent until then while watching the flanks, took an involuntary step back as a cold shiver ran down her spine.
"What's happening now?" Easton asked, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his staff in a defensive stance.
Before anyone could answer, an unreal light erupted from the young man's chest. A translucent figure began to emerge from Biel’s body, separating from him like a liberated spirit.
It was Monsfil.
Imposing and majestic, he towered over them in ethereal armor that shone like steel under sunlight. His presence filled the room, and his red eyes—deep abysses full of ancient wisdom and infinite sadness—slowly scanned those present.
"Bearer of the Fragment," Monsfil said with a deep voice that resonated directly in everyone's minds, bypassing physical ears. "Ylfur, faithful guardian. Finally, the time has come."
Biel staggered, feeling the weight of Monsfil’s spectral gaze upon him like an invisible slab. "You... you are Monsfil," he whispered, unable to look away from the specter floating before him.
Monsfil nodded slowly, his ethereal form flickering with a soft light. "Indeed, young one. We introduced ourselves a short while ago. I have waited a long time for this moment. But I have not come to impose my will upon you. My power is a gift and a burden, and it is up to you to decide how you will use it."
Ylfur took a step forward, the metal of his armor creaking softly as he bowed before his former lord. "My lord, I have fulfilled my duty. But I must know: is he truly worthy of carrying your legacy?"
Monsfil looked at Ylfur with a mix of fatherly affection and royal firmness. "Ylfur, you have always been a faithful servant. But now your duty is not to judge, but to guide. Biel has a pure heart, though weak at this moment. His strength will not come only from his power, but from the connections he forms and the decisions he makes."
Acalia, who had listened intently to every word, stepped forward, breaking the circle of reverence. "And what about Gard? If this power is so important, he is looking for it too. How can we stop him?"
Monsfil closed his eyes, and a shadow of deep pain crossed his ghostly face. "Gard is dangerous, but now that Biel is the young Bearer, it will be impossible for him to collect them all. After all, he seeks what he does not understand. If he were to gather the Fragments, the chaos he would unleash would consume not only this world, but all the worlds connected to the Infinite. But with this action, his plans will cease to make sense. Then, the confrontation with Gard will only be a duel of convictions. And I know the young Bearer is not someone who loses in a duel of convictions; after all, he has an unshakable goal to achieve."
The tension in the chamber became palpable, electric. Biel breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the stagnant air, and looked up with a new spark in his eyes. "Then I have no other choice. If this power is in me, I will use it to protect those I care about. And if Gard wants to destroy everything, we will stop him."
Monsfil smiled slightly, an expression of approval before he began to fade into the air. "I trust you, Biel. But remember: true strength comes from sacrifice."
When Monsfil’s figure disappeared completely, a heavy silence filled the chamber for a second, before being shattered by a dull roar. The ground beneath their feet began to shake violently. Cracks appeared in the stone walls, and dust and debris began to fall from the ceiling.
"We have to get out of here!" Ylfur shouted, his urgent voice cutting through the chaos. "This place was held together by the seal. Without that magic, it will be destroyed. Quick, let's move!"
The group did not hesitate. They ran toward the exit, dodging falling rocks and the ground crumbling behind their steps, escaping the collapsing tomb—without imagining that destiny was already preparing its next move.
Far from there, in a remote place plunged in shadows...
A dark, cold, and silent room housed a lone throne. Someone sat there, motionless as a statue. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning tore through the sky outside, and its fleeting light illuminated part of a pale face.
That person smiled.
It was a slow, predatory smile that revealed sharp fangs glinting in the darkness.
ns216.73.216.134da2
and then Add to home screen.