He turned toward the crowd.
"All of you, get out of here."
They ran toward the gate.
Sylas and the others ran toward the castle.
In the distance, they saw a figure. It was Ray.
He was now wearing black armor and had a massive pitch-black sword. His face was stained with blood. His blade was dripping with blood. His eyes looked hollow, as if they had lost their light. He had that weird, devil smirk on his face.
Sylas stopped.
"How did you get here?" He looked around. "What happened to the others?"
He didn't say anything.
He wiped the blood off his face with his thumb and licked it off. He had that inhuman smile—something a devil would put on.
"What happened to the others?" he asked again, but this time his voice was low.
He swung his sword, letting the blood splatter on the ground.
"Why don't you take a guess?" The grin on his face grew bigger.
Elizabeth covered her mouth, her hands shaking, like she was trying to prevent herself from screaming.
Ryan and Liz—
Their eyes widened, like they already knew what he did.
"How could you, Ray?" Liz shouted at him.
"They trusted you," Ryan added.
"Why…" Sylas muttered.
His jaw clenched. His veins pulsed in his temple.
He stared at him, his eyes now sharp.
It was the kind of look Sylas gives to his worst enemies before their death.
"Why would you do such a thing?"
He tightened his grip around his sword.
Ray didn't answer at first.
He looked at them—then toward Sylas.
He had a low but calm tone.
"Because of him."
He raised his sword and pointed at Sylas.
"How dare they think he could have been a better leader?"
He shouted at Sylas.
"How dare they look at me—and think he was superior to me, a E-rank.
I carried them through hell, and still… they whispered his name."
He stepped forward, every word sharper than the last.
"They were weak. All they did was hold me back from what I could have become.
So, in exchange for them, he gave me power."
Sylas turned toward Morgana.
"You guys go ahead," he turned back to Ray. "I'ma handle this fast."
Ray laughed.
"You think it will be that easy?"
He leapt up and struck from above, the force behind his swing enough to split the ground.
Sylas raised his sword just in time—blocking it.
The impact sent a shockwave through the ground.
His leg sank into the ground, creating a dent beneath his feet.
He turned to the others.
"Go."
He swung his sword, pushing Ray off him.
Ray spun in the air and landed on his feet.
"You are so weak."
He laughed maniacally.
Sylas shot toward him. Their blades collided.
Cling.
He swung again.
Cling.
Nothing but strikes between blades.
But Sylas noticed Ray's strike and speed were increasing.
Each strike—he was getting stronger and faster.
"What happened? You can't keep up?"
He muttered as he swung his sword from the side, striking him.
Sylas blocked it, but the force sent him flying onto the roof of a house.
His arms were getting numb. They were shaking.
He leapt off the house.
Now Ray was glowing with lightning.
He moved.
He was much faster now.
Sylas could barely follow him.
From behind, he could hear him talking.
"I was blessed by Thor.
And now, if I combine my blessing with the second blessing I received…"
He moved faster.
"I can stack them together."
He laughed. The laugh was coming from everywhere.
Now he was too fast for Sylas's eyes to keep up.
He could only see his afterimage.
Then he struck.
Not with his sword—but with his fist.
It was like he didn't want to kill him fast.
He wanted to break him before killing him.
He would land a barrage of punches and disappear.
From the left. From the right. From the front.
Sylas couldn't defend everything. He had to choose.
Shoulders. Ribs. Neck. Back. Knees.
He tightened his guard around the places that were most important.
Ray was getting even faster.
"So is this all you got?" he shouted.
"You sacrificed the people that trusted you—so you could move fast?"
"Shut up, damn you!"
He leapt up, now trying to kill him.
He swung his sword. It was cracking with lightning.
Before it could touch him, Sylas muttered,
"Domain of the King."
Everything turned gold.
Swords rose from the ground.
All the boosts Ray had gained were gone.
Ray swung down.
Sylas blocked it with ease.
He pushed him back.
Ray looked confused.
"What is this?" He looked around.
"What have you done to me?"
Sylas didn't talk.
He shot toward him, swung his empty hand—and a sword appeared in that hand.
He swung it.
It cracked Ray's armor.
He screamed in pain.
He swung his other hand—and like before, a sword appeared.
He continued to swing. Each time, a sword appeared and shattered instantly.
Ray's armor slowly cracked with each strike.
He noticed that the armor was fused to his skin—like it was alive, so he struck him harder.
Sylas didn't give him a chance to recover.
He kept swinging until the armor was gone.
Ray fell to his knees.
Sylas's red eyes locked on him.
"Please, spare—"
Before he could finish saying it,
Sylas swung his sword.
Clean. Sharp.
Cutting through flesh and bone in an instant.
His head flew to the side.
He walked toward Ray's head and picked it up.
He looked him in his dead eyes.
"Be glad I gave you a peaceful death, scum."
Then he threw it in the distance.
After that, he walked toward the direction of the castle.
Then he heard a sound that shook the ground.
He ran toward them.
There, he saw Elizabeth, Ryan, Liz, and Morgana fighting an armored man.
He wore rusted silver armor. His sword looked similar to Excalibur, but purple.
He was wearing a helmet that covered his face.
The others looked exhausted.
He walked toward the armor man.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The armored man shifted his focus toward Sylas.
"I am the King of Kings."