(A/N): As stated in the first page, I've decided to change the names of a few characters. Sorry for any confusion and inconvenience, but refer to the first page, also the character page, to clarify any doubts. But I am posting the new names mentioned in the chapters to facilitate reading, so it won't be so troublesome as to refer to the first page every now and then.

New names mentioned in the following chapter:-

Mariane (was Manald)
Koju (was Immuonnas a.k.a Skull)

-55-

With the death of the four personal bodyguards of King Tristan III, the only one left to be eliminated was the priestess. Tien, now turned into a ghoulish state, narrowed his eyes when his sweeping gaze caught hold of Mariane. She was huddled in the corner of the church, behind a tall pile of broken wood, staring unblinkingly at the transition. That was the last thing she expected.

For the past few moments the priestess had no choice but to trust the only "anti-invaders", Tien. She was hoping that he could somehow alleviate this madness in this church that had already claimed four lives. But now, the tables were turned onto her. Her hopes were made slimmer than the breadth of a human hair. How quick it was for the sudden change of events, yet so little time for her to deny the foul Abyss Knight of his apocalyptic goals. The man she had come to rely on was now nothing more than another minion fighting for the ebony knight's cause.

The pounding of the minotaurs' hammers against the church resumed abruptly, but with lesser frequency as before. Mariane had no time to guess the happenings at the church exterior; her mind raced to generate an idea to reverse the knight's spell. There had to be… anything that could revert Tien back to his human state.

As the child of God, should you have the faith, you might even return a dead to life, an undead to a human. Seek calmness even in the inevitable, and embrace it deep.

The words of the venerable priest, Holan Hosbane, otherwise the founder of the Avenger guild, struck hard on the priestess. As influential the man was, his preaching was no less different. His wisdom, together with his undying belief in God, was probably what brought Avenger to the peak as speculated by many.

"An undead to human…"

Mariane's eyes widened in realization; surprisingly she did not falter when the possessed monk drew close. Words to a spell seemed to form on her lips automatically, though she had not the slightest idea how it was running through her mind and to her lips so systematically without a pause. Tien's firm steps closed in on her with fists clenched, and surrounding him was a demonic aura. The red electricity circling his frame strengthened the unholy image of him.

"Recede the misgivings with the spiritual recovery. Purify the taint, and relieve the filth. Status Recovery must be applied…"

What the priest taught the cohort of the church surfaced in her mind again. Yes, Holan had passed away, but his teachings were still passing down to the juniors of the church without fail. The priestess pronounced line after line, and a cone of white light bathed the monk upon completion. At first she thought her experiment had failed miserably, for it was showing no obvious effects of the purification. The monk still moved with hands outstretched, grabbing her up by the hair. But her wobbly legs threatened to fail on her again once she stood.

And she did. Tien released her abruptly, causing a rough fall on several sharp pieces of wood. The cone of light gradually brightened, forcing the monk to close his eyes painfully. The priestess, too, shielded her eyes against the light with a bloody hand. Energy ebbed away from her ever since the casting of Magnus Exorcimus, leaving her beleaguered and defenceless. Somewhere away from her, Manald could hear faint cries of frustration coming out of the misbegotten knight.

The crimson streaks became very faint, before vanishing completely. Tien's skin, made a greenish tinge at the hands of Abyss, had reverted back to the tanned skin he always had. The monk shrivelled in power, like how a balloon was being deflated. Tien made a gurgling noise, then collapsed in a heap with a palm grasping his chest.

Mariane managed a weak smile. The undeath in the monk had been expelled by an impromptu Status Recovery spell. Her smile disappeared almost instantly. What if that killed him? Is this how its going to end? People say your life would flash before you if death was near, why is that I'm still seeing this accursed knight?

Ridding of her immediate danger should have been a consolation, but there was absolutely no room for a party. Her next immediate danger came as soon as she denied the Abyss Knight of his deeds. Even if Abyss was killed, somehow, there were still bulls to fight outside. And even if the bulls were destroyed, somehow, there were still the other superiors. Oh God, there is no end to this.

Sure enough, the ebony knight extracted his black sword with a resounding ring that echoed his rage. "It is of no use, little priestess," Abyss said when he came to the four bodyguards' corpse. "The monk is gone, but this is not the end."

The knight reached his unoccupied hand to his side, drawing out a black flask. This artefact provided little exhilaration for him now; he was reminded of the incident of how he left Storm to die through the brutality of Baphomet and Dark Lord. Come to think about it, his death came so sudden. The Knight of Windstorm had lived as a superior for many, many years, and his untimely death was certainly fast becoming a controversy in the demonic society.

Abyss jerked his mind off the bitter thoughts. He was well aware of the Lord of Death's invasion from the west fields, and of course, how could he not remember the rumours about the Trait business. A pang of jealousy slipped into him without even the ebony knight realizing when he pictured Death riding gloriously with those Prontera, or rather, Rune-Midgard's vermins grovelling at his feet, hailing him with their hearts out.

Once Death cleared the troops at the west, his next mission of tearing down the accursed church affecting his army's morale would be inevitable.

It should be me, and me only. You think you can handle this all alone? Not without me crushing this damned church, Lord of Death.. The people will worship the sole Knight of the Abyss.

Wasting no time, the black armoured knight uncorked the black flask, pointing the opening to the four bodyguards' corpses. The human corpses began trembling slightly at first, then a shrill blowing of wind forced Mariane to shut her ears. She watched unblinkingly as the four former protectors of King Tristan III climbed to their feet stiffly. The priestess only knew it too well. They had been animated into damned servants of Abyss, like how Tien was falling precariously into the darkside, fighting in the name of the Abyss Knight.

The priestess looked around her. There was hardly any help available; the king and the novice acolytes had secured themselves somewhere in the compound of the church, and Tien lay unmoving near her. She expected the monk to only awake long after this madness. The pounding outside continued, each strike driving a wave of fear that caused her heart to skip a beat.

The soulless guards drew near with their swords out. They dragged their heavy boots across the stony floor noisily, walking with the typical hunch of an undead. Even if Mariane was in top shape right now, she doubted if she stood any chance against them. And so what if she managed to accomplish that? Could she seriously defeat Abyss herself? Not unless she was an immortal.

Images of Avenger surfaced, then faded, her times spent in the guild swirling in her head. That was probably what signalled her soon to come death. The first person who came into her mind was Skull, the various scenes of him defending her from the orc battle near St Caprina, and the evening at Lord Stratza's place where he first held her hand playing in repetition. Perhaps that would be her only regret if she died. She then recalled her leader, Cerberus, the knight discriminated by the men and women from Izlude. Torn apart in his inner turmoil of his brother and his close friend since he was a child, now considered much more than that, he did not quit on them. But on the battlefields, he was another person. This knight was a stark contrast to others, be it in the art of sword masteries or efficiency. He was the determined knight that would let no demon run him down.

Then came Sagis, the wizard who would not disclose much, nor did he talk unless necessary. She had come to respect his knowledge on certain things, and now she found herself wishing that she knew what he would do to save his skin under such circumstances, although everything she wished now only existed in her world of thoughts.

A thud caused her to look up. The four undead guards lay dead, for the second time, and someone tall stood between her and the Abyss Knight. His back was turned to her, and she had yet to identify the newcomer. She heard the Abyss Knight yell, but the person in front of her stood unfazed.

Who is this man? Looks like he is an assassin…

Mariane tried calling out to her saviour, but what came out was only a soft choking sound. She saw a purplish tinge of the cloak he wore that seemed vague to her. The next thing she saw was something peculiar. She did not see the man's hand; instead the wrist ended in something pointed. When she shifted her gaze higher up, her heart raced. The man had silver hair…

Skull stood staring at the demented knight. Though Abyss was at least a head taller than the assassin was, and twice as mighty, Skull's undaunted look promised death to the diabolical knight, just like how he had sworn to kill the crusader, Galor. Hands at his side, the pair of Infiltrators gleamed with hunger for blood. Blood pumping in anticipation, Skull watched his foe as he waited.

"You'll regret this, Mister Hero. No man alive can stop me, and I wonder what made you, an assassin the size of a mote, think otherwise." Abyss warned dangerously. "And your head will be the price in exchange for my steed's death, Hero!"

"My only regret is to watch you raise the foul dead and not do a damn thing about it, Abyss Knight. My would-be regret is failing to subdue you, if it happens, that is," said Skull.

Mariane's faith returned, and she looked flatteringly at the boiling assassin. Before her mind blanked, she took one last glance at purple cloaked man. You have come, assassin… my Koju…

Blinded by the injection of bloodlust, Skull let his soul become one with his katars. He lashed his right to Abyss's neck, only to have his wrist gripped tightly by the knight's gloved hands. Pulling the assassin closer, Abyss hauled him overhead, landing the mortal on top of broken wood and stones. Skull's grunts escaped his lips as soon as he hit the rough surface, but his bloodlust had not subsided. A broken back was more than enough to let Abyss capitalize. He watch the assassin wriggle on the floor a moment longer, then turned to the priestess.

Mariane forced herself to avert her gaze away from those red gleaming orbs of Abyss while she scrambled away like a child when cornered. Tien still had not stirred since the purging of his undeath, and the priestess guessed it was not possible for him to awaken any moment. For all she knew, he really was dead.

Abyss tore off a stubborn chunk of his shorn off armour dangling loosely from his torso, and hurled it aside.

"You like flaunting your spells so much that you even hurt me. Too bad, now, a priestess like you could might as well rot and die. But, a quick death is too light a verdict… too light."

Abyss reached a gloved hand to pull her closer. Those sinister red eyes flared as he grabbed her by the throat in the other hand, murmuring a chain of foreign chants she could not comprehend. Abyss focused his eyes on the priestess –and she screamed. Her hair fell loosely around her in a tangled mess, beads of sweat forming on her forehead ran over her grimed face. Abyss sneered when her eyes opened wide, not of trauma but more of a delirious state.

And suddenly there was no screams or any other noises, except for the inexorable pounding of the minotaurs' hammers in an attempt to crush the church. Mariane's mouth was still hung open –in a silent scream. Abyss's laughter bounced off the compound of the church, echoing furiously in the priestess's ears. The feeling was unbearable.

Abyss let his captive fall to the floor. He loosened his black sword in the scabbard, shifting his focus to Skull. But he was nowhere to be found. The spot where he had only lay recently was now empty. Abyss passed a searching glance around, and a sudden gush of wind spelled trouble for him. A red-tipped blade sliced along his exposed places unprotected by the armour, drawing thick, gooey demonic blood. Abyss opened his mouth in a scream, his howls incongruous to his powerful form. Turning around, he found himself becoming his intended's intended. Skull erupted into a smooth combination of potent thrusts that forced the knight backwards. After cornering the knight into an obstacle of more stones and smashed benches, Skull drove a katar through the armour, and into the abdomen.

"Ugh… you," Abyss breathed the words out. "You… how is that possible, mortal? I am… I am the Knight… Knight of the Abyss… the godly knight…"

"If I could stick your damned horse, I don't see why I can't do the same to you," Skull spoke each word with intentional slowness.

Abyss slugged the assassin across the jaws, reeling him backwards. The wrist blade impaled in him too flew from his body together with Skull, drawing a painful gasp from the black knight. He pressed a hand against his bloody stomach and limped with surprising quickness, as if his injury was just a mere fluke.

Skull's blank stare gave the knight hope. Grabbing a fistful of silver hair, Abyss drove a hard fist squarely into Skull's midriff, drew back and threw another clobber, and again, and again in successive repetition, each blow quicker and stronger than the last. Blood frothed the lips of the fading assassin, but he did not so much as to make a noise. When Abyss's hands opened to release him, he crumbled to the floor silently.

"I warned you, assassin. I will not be defeated…"

The Knight of Abyss allowed himself a brief rest, and slowly unsheathed his black sword as if he had everything under his control, and as if time was on his side. Uttering a deep, jerky laugh, he closed the grip around the long hilt with two hands, holding the tip downwards above Skull's heart.

"Return to your abyss, knight, and return to your restless sleep!"

Assuming a blow from the man behind was in process, Abyss reversed his sword and did a precise backhand in a rapid, single motion –and a charged knuckled fist snapped the blade of his black sword, and continued through downwards like an unstoppable comet to smash the floor. Abyss screamed, the remaining half of the black sword slipped from his hands, and his black armour began cracking apart to cascade in pieces of waste metal. The echoing screams resounded off the walls and deep into the eardrums of those alive. The form of Abyss thinned, and then split to vaporize into specks of mote.

Tien remained in his position; kneeling on one knee with his right fist still imbedded into the miniature crater on the floor, where he last shattered it apart, he paid no mind to the dying voices.

"I will not be defeated…"