Chapter 262 Arrival

Unbeknownst to Emilio as he was still in the air as a result of his leap from the enormous hill, he was right in the sights of the malignant entity, who was already halfway through following up his previous attack.

He could feel it; what was coming was another sound-barrier shattering slice of darkness, prompting him to press his hand to his left as he used a burst of wind to propel himself to the right.

Though just as he did, something sprouted from the ground below him–

"--?!" Emilio looked down.

An enormous limb made of intertwined, shadowy limbs reached him, gripping onto his left leg as he was halted in midair, completely open to Dread's attack.

"Emilio!" Melisande shouted.

There was nothing that could be done in that moment, even as Emilio began to summon another wall of stone to attempt to block the attack, the speed at which Dread unleashed the arcs of violence were far too swift.

In an instant from once Dread moved his finger, the visceral darkness appeared on the Dragonheart's body, cutting into his torso as a spray of black blood released.

"Ngh!" Emilio winced.

As the limb of morphed hands released his leg, he began to fall downward with his eyes looking up towards the sky, seeing his own blood raining down as it continued pouring out.

It was failing to heal; the wound refused to close, feeling as if the opposite was taking effect: the opened wound was forcing his blood out.

"...Emilio!" The silver-haired girl shouted, moving forward with the intent of helping.

"Damn it...! I'm really gonna die if I do this, but–I'm not the kinda' guy who watches his friend die!" Everett shouted, about to follow Melisande.

However, Asher stopped them as he raised his arm, still reeling from the injuries sustained in his clash with the violent entity.

"What?! Didn't you just want to go in a minute ago?!" Everett shouted.

"...He's right. Why're you stopping now?" Yuna added.

Asher breathed out, "If you move any closer, you'll die."

"Huh?!" Everett raised an eyebrow.

"Emilio is...about to let it loose," Asher breathed out.

–

As the Dragonheart plummeted towards the ground, with half of his own body now drenched in blood from his sliced-open chest, something flickered within him.

In that moment, he saw it, perhaps a snapshot of the life he'd lived, he felt an inexplicable desire to stop Dread–no matter the cost.

["Thank you, Emilio."]

The voice that spoke to him in that moment of lost consciousness was painful to hear, yet at the same time it filled his heart with delightful emotion.

He could hardly see who spoke to him as he laid there in a puddle of his own blood, only seeing a familiar bandana and silver hair.

["...I really thought I lost her. You found her though–it was you that saved her from that nightmare. As her big brother, that's more than I could ever ask. You're still not done though, are you, Emilio? Or, do you prefer Ethan?"]

"...Joel...?" Emilio placed it together.

The sight caused stomachs to drop and breaths to halt as the figure revealed to them was haunting in all meaning: there he stood, the Dread, unmoved from his spot with his hand forward.

A barrier of darkness melted away, revealing the left arm of Dread to be severely burned; it was an unhealing wound, causing the limb belonging to the once sealed entity to tremble.

Dread's expression had taken a turn to what looked to be a cross between surprise and rage at the state of its own arm, letting it drop down by its side.

"He survived that...?" Melisande asked in horror.

"It looks like he's hurt though...! Emilio did a number on 'im!" Everett called out.

"Tch!" Asher clicked his tongue.

As the Dread moved towards them, it walked with a small limp, beginning to speak to nobody specifically, "I am violence incarnate. I am war. All I know is destruction. In the womb of creation, I fed on death. It was the way of mortals that nurtured me; their darkest thoughts, their gravest sins, and their unspeakable history–that is who I am."

"What's he talkin' about...?" Everett muttered.

"I don't know, but it's creepy," Yuna replied.

Continuing on, the Dread spoke without any care for an audience, lumbering forward as darkness oozed from every pore of his accursed body.

"...The Children of Chaos...the man who sought to free me, Amon...his mission...I see it now that I possess his memories," the Dread spoke, "What a beautiful aspiration. To delve the world into chaos, set it aflame, tear it all down and build it anew for whatever comes next–it doesn't matter what it is, who does it–what matters is that this world is reset. I see...I shall use this aimless thirst for violence and point it in the direction you desire, Amon...I suppose that's only fair."

[Devilheart System Awakened–]

Suddenly, the sky itself seemed to shift as a hole opened up in the ceiling of the upside down forest of the valley, revealing the outside world that had been hidden from those within the mystical valley the entire week.

"What the...?" Everett looked up.

It was as if seeing the falsity of the uninhabitable valley for the first time; the illusion shattered before their eyes once seeing the ceiling be opened like a tile above them.

"...Emilio, he!" Melisande called out.

"What–?" Asher looked back.

"His bleeding...it's stopped! He's starting to heal again...!" Melisande happily called out, looking up with a smile of relief.

The truth of this claim was revealed to their eyes as the young Dragonheart's lethal wound began to close itself with the black threads of his unique blood coming out to recover, stitching him together seamlessly.

"...Why now, though?" Asher muttered.

"You can thank me for that."

The response came from an unknown party, causing Asher to spin around with his sword stopped not by the demonic man's own intent, but by a single finger of the stranger that had appeared seemingly out of thin air.

"Careful now, I'm not your enemy."

Speaking to Asher with a smile was a youthful man with a pair of blood-red horns protruding from his head, brushing through his unkempt, fluffy tufts of hazel hair.

The stranger had tan skin, wearing a black uniform that resembled a suit with silver engravings along its lavish cloth; on his fingers, he wore exuberant rings and piercings on his ears.

"You're..." Asher mumbled, staring at the horns on the man's head.

"The name's Scarlet–I'm from the Nihilum Core," the figure finally introduced himself, "We've come to clean up this mess. That tends to be our job, anyway–though it seems like this takes the cake for a 'mess'."