A/N: Welcome to the sequel to the Gold or the Soul! This is based off of the Devil Comes Back to Georgia.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the song that this is based on. That belongs to Himaruya and the Charles Daniels Band.

Alfred sighed, placing the flowers on the packed dirt. He crouched next to the stone slab and dusted it off, reading the words again. He barely cared that his new suit's trousers were becoming caked with mud or that the pretty blue flowers she had so loved did nothing to cheer up her gravestone.

Carolina Jones

A loving daughter who died too early

1864 – 1878

It was the ten year anniversary since Alfred had won that fateful battle with the Devil.

It was also the ten year anniversary since he came back to his home and found his daughter hanging from a noose.

Alfred slowly brought the fiddle to his chin and started to play again. To be honest, he hadn't had much time to make his music because of the newfound success of his ranch and the arrival of his little niece, Alberta, last June. His brother had always been poor; the death of his dear wife and suicide of his beloved niece had shocked him. Alfred worried about him. After Mathew left the little babe with him, he left and they hadn't spoken to each other since.

Alfred brought the bow across the strings and played a sharp, shrill A. The next was a sad, whining E. Then came a bellowing D and a quiet G. He experimented, getting the feel of the notes again as they bubbled into his chest. His sapphire eyes closed in concentration as his dark eyebrows knitted together. His blonde hair pooled into his face carelessly as he let the music consume him.

The slow notes filled the air, light and somber. As the song floated to the winds as if in a sad waltz, Alfred could swear that his daughter's voice sing along. Her voice had always been very pretty, a nice compliment to the melodies that had drifted throughout their home. Right now, with the despair and tragedy of the song, the voice sounded haunting.

A beautiful wail of the dead was the overture to Alfred's fiddle.

Once the final notes of the melody played, the air was silent. No birds dared to sing nor did any wind dare to dance. The eerie hollowness filled the void that the music had left.

Someone behind him clapped.

Alfred twirled around, eyes scanning the field. A low chuckle resounded, dark and full of hatred, "Over here, lad." Alfred spotted his bright green eyes as the Devil melted away from the shadows and into the light. His eyes danced with a certain fiery, deadly grace. "Congratulations. It was utterly… beautiful." Arthur spat the word bitterly.

Ten years. He had spent ten years being haunted by the song Alfred had played that fateful day. He sat for so long in the pits of Hell, feeling his hatred and anger grow. Mortals could not just outmatch a deity and get away with it. He watched and waited as Alfred's soul was slowly tainted by soft bitterness. His soul was still so pure, yet it was becoming oh so slowly corrupted.

"Lad," Arthur smirked, "Your wrath will do you in. You see the little girl there?" Arthur pointed to the monument where Carolina lay at rest, "I tempted her. She was still quite young, you see."

Alfred's head jerked up and he glared at Arthur icily. Arthur could sense his soul become slowly consumed by his anger. "What did you do?"

"It's quite simple, really," Arthur drawled, walking in a circle around the man. His arrow tipped tail swung leisurely behind him as he said with shining eyes, "All I had to do was convince her that you had died. She already thought that Mathew was done for. Her fragile little heart just shattered." Arthur grinned wickedly.

"You took her away from me." Alfred said lowly.

Arthur knew that his lie was working, for Alfred was but a mortal man. His web was slowly weaving over him. Soon, he would be trapped. The Devil licked his lips. Soon, after ten long years, he would consume Alfred's soul. The bitter rage kept growing in Alfred's heart and his soul grew heavy.

Alfred wouldn't win this time.

Alfred could feel the rage but could do nothing to stop it. His body shook and his fists clenched at his sides. In a desperate attempt to control his anger, he squeezed his eyes shut. The outside world was silenced.

Alfred slowly opened his eyes to come face to face with a boy with beautiful amber eyes and thick chestnut colored hair. The hair fell in curls around his plump face and white wings fluttered delicately behind him. "Who are you?" Alfred asked, unable to keep the light sense of wonder from his voice.

"I am Feliciano!" The angel said sweetly, floating to him with a wide, friendly smile. "I have a message from God for you, the one with the pure soul."

"What is it?" Alfred asked.

"He said that the Devil cannot be trusted."

The world came into focus once more and Alfred planted his feet firmly on the ground. "Devil, you get your fiddle and face me." He carefully set the gold fiddle on the ground at Arthur's feet. "It'd be a sin to give you my bow."

"Surely, lad," Arthur taunted, "You won't win."

"I thought we went over this," Alfred said with narrowed eyes. "I'm the best there is!"

"Ha!" Arthur sneered, "I'll see you try!" Alfred held the bow to the strings and slowly tuned his fiddle. First he played a pure A, then a heavenly E. A confident D rang true and a battle hardened G note cheered victoriously.

Alfred looked up at Arthur with shining blue eyes and said, "Thank you for letting God's words ring true. You cannot be trusted!"

"So?" Arthur jeered at him, although it sounded a bit shaky, "What will you do?" Arthur was shocked. The darkness that had accumulated in Alfred's soul was gone, just like that. Light filled his pure soul once more and the confidence shone brightly. Arthur glared. He wouldn't lose, not this time. He would never lose again.

It may have been Arthur's dream to one day defeat Alfred, but Alfred was just the best that there was.

Arthur played his dark tune. It had grown in intensity as more death and horror filled the Earth. Alfred could hear screams of pain and agony, of greed and madness. The dead tore through the sharp notes that tried to dig into Alfred's very core.

Alfred wasn't afraid. He stood his ground and stared straight through the dark complexity to the Devil's true meaning: I will win. I am the best, not a mortal. He is afraid. He is weak. Alfred felt a presence beside him as he felt slender fingers grip his hand.

Carolina seeped him to the bone with hope, life. The soft glow illuminated the golden ribbons of her hair and her green eyes shined like glass. Soft white swept over the field, giving Alfred one message. You are never alone.

Arthur grit his teeth as the song drew to a close. Alfred radiated hope and love. This was never a good thing in a fiddle battle against him. His fangs drew black blood as he bit his lip, awaiting his challenger.

Alfred looked at the Devil and smiled. Arthur was disgusted by the sweet, pure innocence of it. "As I said, I'm the best. I'll prove it again."

Once again, Arthur was thrown into the house of the rising sun.

The complex, fast paced notes filled the air, singing to the heavens. The song was happy and bouncing, a tale of an adventure just waiting to happen. It seemed to describe the life of a new day and the sunshine peeking through heavy rain, all sweetness and hope.

Arthur was once again beaten and he knew it. He growled, starting burn with the intensity of the melody. He had to leave. Sending one last glare at Alfred, he started to sink into the ground, his hatred for the mortal burning more intensely than it ever had before.

Alfred didn't stop there. He just walked to his home, fiddling the entire way. It was a strange sight to anyone. A man with messy blonde hair and a dirty suit walked along, paying no heed to anything but his music. If one looked hard enough, they may have seen a shimmering silver mist.

He didn't finish his song until he had been playing in front of the babe that Mathew left for a while. Alberta laughed in delight, clapping along with the happy song. As the song finished, Alberta reached for the fiddle with shining eyes, babbling and cooing. Alfred smiled and ruffled her hair. "Maybe one day I'll give it to you."

Virginia and Georgia yawned, leaning against America's chest. The nation smiled and ruffled their hair. "And they lived happily ever after. The end."

"You're the best story teller ever, Papa." Georgia said, closing her eyes.

"Yeah…" Virginia agreed sleepily.

America smiled. "Love you. Good night."

Review! ^^