AN: Ahh, managed to get this chapter done in time! Hope you enjoy reading~

Chapter 3:

Dark Testament…was quite the Netherworld.

Though, it had to be said that Samuel was more worried about the dangers of falling off of the thing than anything posed by the Lost Soldiers that were found crawling around every inch and corner of the massive battleship.

Still, they were numerous, and annoying. And something they couldn't keep dealing with if they wanted both Killia and Zeroken in top shape to attempt Operation: Free Goldion once more.

Wrapping the chain of his axe around his arm, Samuel turned as Zeroken dispatched a final orc soldier, one that looked much like the one that had tried to attack him all that time ago. He swiftly defeated their enemy, but Samuel noticed that his movements were starting to become sluggish and strained.

He was obviously starting to grow weary with the constant battling.

"You doing all right there, Wolf Pup?" Samuel called out to him. "These battles not wearing you down?"

"I'm fine," Zeroken replied, through his panting and wheezing. "I need to keep going. I need to keep getting stronger for Master's sake."

Well, Killia was certainly right about Zeroken being dedicated to Goldion. His theory had to be right, also. If anyone could remove the malice that was keeping Goldion brainwashed, it had to be Zeroken.

They just had to get pass that self-loathing of his.

Killia seemed to have everything under control. Hoped he didn't mind Samuel meddling too much. Besides, the others had been rather hard on him as of late. Not as much as Zeroken had been on himself. Still, he couldn't help but twitch with protectiveness.

"Sure thing, Wolf Pup," Samuel said good-naturedly as he gave Zeroken a hearty pat on the back. "I believe in you."

Zeroken staggered forward from the tap before he righted himself and stared up at Samuel in shock. "Y-you do?"

"Yeah, of course," Samuel replied without hesitation and with a smile. "So, if you're finding it hard to believe in your heart, then why don't you believe in my belief in your heart."

That brought a deep furrow to Zeroken's brow. "Believe in your belief in my heart?"

"And believe in Killia's trust in you."

Zeroken perked up. "Bro trusts me?"

Samuel rapped his knuckles against Zeroken's forehead. "Wolf Pup, he's asking you to help him with a powerful technique to free his old master. Why?"

A wrinkle in the brow returned as Zeroken fell silent, taking a moment to think of a response. "Because I'm the only one who can?"

"And why is that?"

"Because Goldion is my master."

"Right." Good. At least he was becoming more confident. "And Goldion trusted you enough to take you under his wing, to teach you what he knew, to talk to you, to open his heart to you. And his heart is his netherworld, yes? That's worth something, right? I guess that means you're worth something, too, right?"

Zeroken's eyes widen slightly, clearly taken aback by his words. "Ah, y-yeah, I guess I am."

Samuel pressed his fist against Zeroken's chest, over his heart. "Then show it. To Killia, to Goldion, to everyone. But more importantly; to your own heart."

"Right, I will," Zeroken said, his shoulders squared, and head held high. "I'll prove it to everyone. And I'll definitely save Master."

Samuel smiled to himself. Alright. Now, it was up to Killia to teach him the Final Skill. Zeroken appeared confident enough in himself now to learn it.

"Glad to hear it. Now, come on," Samuel said as he slipped an arm around Zeroken's neck and tugged him playfully to his side, much like a big brother would. "We're almost there. Let's meet up with the others and get off of this forsaken warship."

… … … … …

Final Skill Adviya Holy Water.

It worked.

It was quite an attack; powerful but précised and yet subtle. It had to be to remove all malice from a demon without actually killing them.

Sprawled out, in a prone position within the centre of a floating platform of Dark Testament, Bloodis laid completely still. Only the twitching of his fingers could be seen, indicating that he was still alive.

But what was to happen next? How were they to know the malice had been destroyed?

A violent, bitter chill suddenly engulf the platform as a shadow, pitch back in colour, seeped from the links and seams of Bloodis' armour, coiled into the air like smoke. And then disappeared, floating away as if nothing more than ash.

Was that the maliciousness that had kept Goldion brainwashed and under Void Dark's control?

It had to be. That maliciousness…it was nauseating. And cold. It was so powerful.

Void Dark was capable of such maliciousness?

But that attack brought it out.

…Could it also work on Seedlings?

No, Seedlings were-

A new brutal kind of crushing cold suddenly erupted around the small platform, almost bringing Samuel and everyone to their knees. The air crackled as a deep, gut-wrenching, truly vile malevolence descended.

A laugh, no a low conceited chuckle prompted Samuel to tilt his head back, to look up.

Toward a demon with white hair, sharp eyes, and a presence that was so difficult to describe. Words didn't seem to be enough.

Evil.

That was Void Dark?

No…it was too soon.

Not the Demon Emperor himself. The light and power of the Final Skill must have brought in him. Damn it. They didn't foresee that possibility. After all the fighting, and power needed to perform such a skill, they weren't really to face him in battle. Not yet. No matter what anyone said.

"Voooooooooooid!"

Not good. Killia was losing his mind with rage.

"Killia…you always were an eyesore."

"Void…! You…! I'll kill you!"

Killia couldn't even talk properly. So, he just lunged at him. Tried to attack him, something that Void took with great, sadistic amusement in.

There was so much rage in Killia's voice. And in his actions.

That man, that demon had caused Killia nothing but pain and suffering. That demon was the one that caused him, and so many others, so much unspeakable pain and suffering.

That insufferable, arrogant bastard.

Samuel found his eyes shifting over to Bloodis. He hadn't moved an inch. Had the Final Skill knocked him completely unconscious? How were they going to ensure that he was free was his brainwashing with Killia and Void Dark duking it out in front of everyone. With the way they were fighting, they could take out Dark Testament with them.

"Christo, what should we do?" Samuel asked the man next to him.

"I'm n-not entirely sure," Christo answered honestly, the short quiver in his voice sparing only a hint to his unease. "I can't get a reading on Void Dark's powers with my Occhi Clairvoyance. And Killia is too far in his own rage to be reasoned with."

Not good. A forced evacuation might be their only chance. Even then, it might not work.

Both Samuel and Christo winced when Killia suddenly launched into a fiery attack, placing all his hatred and rage into the flames. Only…the flames froze in suspended animation after Void Dark snapped his fingers. His sadistic grin growing in sheer malice as Killia staggered back a step in pure bewilderment.

And horrified realisation.

"That power is…"

There was no question that Void Dark took great delight in Killia's reaction. "Yes, the Overload skill that I took from you, Alma Ice Sculpture…"

Took from him…?

Wait, Void Dark was able to steal another's Overlord skill?!

Before anyone could react, Bloodis suddenly appeared directly in front of Killia, his back toward Void Dark. Guarding him while he towered over Killia. Over a surprised Killia.

That meant the…Final Skill didn't work?

But how? There was no mistaking that dark shadow of malice that had appeared from Bloodis' prone body.

A feeling of dread immediately settled in the pit of Samuel's stomach. Instinctively, he slammed his axe into the steel platform and twisted the chain around his wrist, clenching his hand tightly around the metal links. As Bloodis pulled back his arm, Samuel took a step to the right.

"Know where you stand!"

A mere micro-second later, Bloodis delivered a punch to Killia's chest.

The force of the Demon General's attack sent Killia back several feet.

In the direction that Samuel had set himself up in.

He gritted his teeth as Killia's back slammed into his chest, the attack of Bloodis' attack strong enough to send the both of them to back several feet, even as Samuel dug his heels in. He wrapped his arms around Killia, and took on his full weight, which was easy enough despite the other demon being taller. With his axe acting as an anchor, it preventing the both of them from slipping off the edge of the platform from the brutal attack.

An attack, Samuel felt, was somehow being restrained by Bloodis.

Samuel ignored the way the chain clenched painfully tight around his forearm and wrist and crouched down to his knees, his concern growing substantially when Killia slumped lifelessly in his arms. He vaguely recognised the worried voices of their allies as he carefully guided Killia's head back to rest in the crook of his neck.

As Killia's head lolled back listlessly, a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, causing a knot of panic to twist in Samuel's stomach.

Damn it, he took that attack straight to the chest!

Samuel carefully readjusted his hold around Killia as Christo knelt down next to him to us his Occhi Clairvoyance. "Broken ribs. Shallow breathing. Possibly internal injuries."

Killia needed emergency healing.

Healing. Mega healing?

Wait…Samuel could heal!

Pushing aside the fact he just remembered that he indeed had the knowledge and ability to heal, Samuel kept Killia's head cradled against the crook of his neck as he pressed a hand against his chest. A large, ugly bruise had already begun to form; black and purple in colour.

The innate knowledge to heal came flooding back swiftly as warmth passed through his hand and into Killia's body. The broken ribs had to wait as the internal bleeding took top priority. He couldn't heal too quickly, however, as it could do more damage to him.

Samuel ignored everything around him, relying on their allies to keep a somewhat firm grasp on the situation as he concentrated on healing Killia. On virtually keeping him alive.

After what felt like an eternity, Killia coughed and spluttered, some of his blood splattering against the collar of Samuel's white vest, but that was perfectly ok; he was breathing. That was all that mattered.

That also meant he could be moved.

"Christo, we need to get out of here," Samuel said, firmly. "We've lost control of the situation; survival is all that matters now."

While Samuel hadn't a clue what was transpiring between them and Void Dark and Bloodis, the frown and barely restrained fear Christo's eyes indicated that he did.

"Agreed," he said simply. And made the motion to transport the seven of them back to the safety of the pocket Netherverse. Much like he had done during their previous encounter with Bloodis.

But as the familiar teleportation light washed over them, something felt…different.

… … … … …

Instead of the usual chatter of the Pocket Netherworld, an unfamiliar silence greeted Samuel as the light of the location transfer died down. He blinked open his eyes, his vision clearing at the sight of Killia's face, head resting upon his shoulder. His eyes softly closed; lips parted slightly. Yet, a dried line of blood was still visible against the corner of his mouth.

Ensuring that his arms remained tight, but not firm around the still precariously injured Killia, Samuel lifted his gaze to look at his surroundings, and to search for the others. What he saw surprised him and alarmed him in equal measures.

They weren't in the Pocket Netherworld.

And he wasn't able to see any of their allies.

What happened? They had teleported back to the Pocket Netherworld in the presence of a powerful enemy before, all without a hitch. What happened this time? Was it…Void Dark?

Samuel shook his head. It didn't matter the hows and whys. Killia was still injured and was unconscious. Not a good combination, though not entirely a surprise. Not after the attack he had endured.

Pressing a hand against Killia's chest once more to offer another gentle bout of healing, Samuel idly began to assess their situation.

They appeared to be on an unknown Netherworld. One of foggy forests of purple ferns and red willows. The air was moist, the atmosphere heavy. Not quite like the swamps of Demunshroom. But heavy with moisture. Like rain.

He was only familiar with the Netherworlds he had already encountered. Killia was far more knowledgeable than he. He would know how to make their way back to the Pocket Netherworld. He, however, was unavailable at the moment.

The best thing, only thing really, Samuel could do was to find a safe place for them to crash. A place where Samuel could take care of Killia's injuries. A place they could hold up long enough to hide from the Lost Army until either Killia awoke from his injuries, or Christo used that Occhi Clairvoyance of his and tracked them down.

If the others had been transported somewhere safe, that was.

Damn it, something else to worry about.

What about his axe?

Lifting up his left arm, Samuel heard the familiar sound of clinking chains. And he breathed a small sigh of relief. He still had his axe. Good. He could still defend the two of them if the need arose.

Ok, first thing first; shelter.

Taking a moment to twist the chain attached to his axe securely around his wrist once more, Samuel carefully arranged for Killia to lean against the twisting root of a willow tree. It was still unnerving how still and unresponsive he was, even though it was equally understandable.

Crouching low in front him, he shifting Killia's arms over his shoulders and slowly stood up, carefully bringing Killia with him. He winced when Killia gave out a low hiss of pain. He knew that carrying him on his back was sure to agitate his ribs; unfortunately, it was the best method to carry him while allowing him to use his axe to defend and attack.

With his axe clenched tightly in his right hand, Samuel took a moment to look cautiously at the ground at his feet. The ground appeared smooth, as if it was a path. A road even. So, he chose a random direct and started walking.

The mist and fog were quite dense, and the smell of ozone grew more intense. It was a sent he found vaguely familiar. It was the sent before rain, he was sure of it. So, he had better find some shelter, and quickly.

A crunch of gravel stopped him dead in his tracks, however.

Someone was coming. And from the sound of those footsteps; there were a group of them.

Better hide.

A faded shade of red to his right indicated to Samuel that there was a willow tree nearby. Without hesitation, he dropped off the road and into the thick fog once more. He ducked into the curtains of red leaves and foliage of the red willow tree, and for extra cover, ducked behind the above ground root.

With one hand holding onto Killia, the other tightening on his axe, Samuel slowed his breathing and waited.

Waiting as the footsteps drew closer. And the voices grew louder.

He couldn't see them through the fog. But he could hear clearly. And from what they were saying, he knew exactly who they were.

Lost Soldiers.

They were just strolling past, seemingly having just patrolled a recently 'acquired' village. Best to wait for them to simply pass by. With Killia in the shape he was, he couldn't risk getting into unnecessary battles.

Killia remained quiet, which was both a blessing and a concern, and Samuel remained perfectly still, waiting until the footsteps and voices faded away. While it was tempting to stay in his safe hiding spot for one more second, he had to move.

Slowly, Samuel stood. He spent a cautious moment readjusting his hold on his precious cargo before he made his way on the path and moved in the direction opposite of where the Lost Army moved. They spoke of a village. Hopefully, it hadn't been burnt to the ground and there was at least one useable building left.

Seconds seemed to drag on for hours as Samuel walked through that mist and fog, with Killia's laboured breathing in his ear, and tensing at every little twig snap and insect sound. Until, finally, the road widened. And he found himself standing in a village centre.

It appeared more of a little hamlet with only a few tiny cottages and huts. Likely a family community.

It hadn't been burnt to the ground. But it was obvious that the Lost Soldiers had laid claims to it, the bastards.

A large droplet of water hitting him on the cheek pulled Samuel out of his observations and he looked up toward the sky, though it was pointless with the fog. Just as he had feared; it was starting to rain.

He needed to find shelter. He couldn't afford to have Killia catching a cold or other illness atop of his injuries.

Turning to his left, Samuel ventured to the nearest residence that looked to be in relative in one piece. The door was at least shut, unlike the others. And a door that could shut was what he needed the most in these times.

Even though, at the moment, it was a bit of a nuance.

"Hello? Anyone here? We just need shelter."

Probably a stupid thing to say; if there was anyone home, they'd be hiding. If they weren't before, they certainly were after he kicked open the door. But he had to at least announce their arrival. And the house seemed small enough that there didn't appear to be many places to hide.

Samuel decided it was best to keep Killia with him as he did a quick sweep of the place before he was satisfied. The house appeared to be unoccupied. Recently emptied at that. No doubt the Lost Soldiers were responsible. He hoped the owners were alive somewhere else and were simply hiding from the war.

Until they returned, Samuel was just going to borrow their house and their belongings.

A lone bed was situated by the woodstove that acted as the heater for the simple little cottage. The covers had been thrown back in haste, as if the previous owner had a truly rude awakening.

He walked over to bed, turned and carefully crouched down to lower Killia down onto the mattress. He finally released the hold on his axe as he shifted to slip one arm around Killia's shoulders, the other to cradle the back of his neck. He lowered him down onto the bed, being mindful not to jar his injuries any more than he already had. With Killia lying prone on the bed, Samuel knelt on the edge, taking a moment to properly assess his injuries.

Bruising on his chest and torso had spread and deepened in colour, but at least he had stopped any internal bleeding. He could focus on fixing his cracked ribs next, which should help with his laboured breathing.

He was pale, cold. But also burning with a fever.

At least…at least Samuel knew what to do now.

Samuel lifted the blankets and draped them over him. He uttered a sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed, and looked down at Killia. He reached up with his hand, to gently brush aside a strand of his hair from his forehead.

Killia…

He hoped he had the skills to keep him alive.