The knight's blade skidded along Aldric's poleaxe, sparks sizzling as holy fire bit into unholy metal. For an instant, the weapons locked—pure force grinding against pure rage. Rain hissed on the flames. Blood magic crackled like embers on bone.
The knight snarled through his visor.
> "I'll make you submit, demon. In Her name—"
Aldric answered with a laugh—a sharp, vicious, marrow-deep laugh.
> "You talk a little too much."
He shifted his weight—just a fraction—but enough.
The poleaxe twisted, its blood-forged edge slipping under the knight's sword with a serpent's grace. Mana pulsed violently. The knight's footing faltered, divine flame flickering.
Aldric struck.
A brutal, upward arc—one-handed, but fueled by fury and blood magic that surged through his muscles like molten fire. The blow smashed into the knight's breastplate, denting the armor inward with a clang that echoed across the courtyard.
The knight stumbled back, holy flame sputtering along his sword.
The ring of armored soldiers tightened instantly—spears lowering, blades rising.
Lyriana stepped forward, Lucifer in her arms, her body trembling with power.
> "Aldric! They're closing—"
"Let them."
Blood mana surged again, darker this time—thicker, heavier, as if the courtyard itself bled at his command. The poleaxe glowed a deeper crimson, like iron forged in wrath.
The lead knight regained his stance, holy flame bursting back to life in blinding gold. His voice thundered:
> "By the Radiant Mother! By the light that destroys all evil—"
Aldric lunged.
Not a charge. Not a swing.
A blur.
The air snapped behind him as he crashed into the knight, poleaxe slamming against the flaming sword in an eruption of light and shadow.
The ground shook.
Petals lifted as if weightless. Rain froze midair. The hedges bent from the impact. Light and crimson fire spiraled violently around the two figures locked in combat.
The knight strained, gauntlets cracking.
Aldric leaned close, crimson eyes blazing, voice a blade sliding between ribs.
> "You call me a demon," he whispered.
"Fine. Then die like prey."
He shoved forward.
The poleaxe's edge hooked the flaming sword, dragging it aside. Before the knight could recover, Aldric twisted and slammed the butt of the poleaxe into the knight's helmet.
The visor caved inward. The flame faltered. The knight dropped to one knee.
The circle of soldiers erupted into motion, charging as one.
Lyriana raised Lucifer, mana spiraling around her arm, eyes sharp, body twisting to dodge attacks as she slammed into knights with such focus they were sent flying back.
Aldric didn't look back.
He lifted the poleaxe, blood magic coiling around the blade like a vortex.
> "Come, then…"
"Let's finish your little crusade."
The courtyard drowned in steel, fire, and crimson light.
The lead knight snarled, fury and divine purpose coiling through him as a Knight of the Empire. He lunged again, blade aimed straight for the baby in Aldric's arms. His flaming sword arced with lethal precision, intent clear: strike the child and kill all the demons.
Aldric's eyes widened—with a predator's shock. A heartbeat. Then the world slowed. His jaw clenched, teeth biting into the corner of his lip. The poleaxe shifted in his grip, ready.
Time snapped back. He didn't hesitate. He moved. Fast. Too fast.
The knight's blade met flesh where it should have, but Aldric's body twisted with brutal, fluid grace. He took the blow himself, a shudder of searing pain running through bone and muscle. The strike caught him in the neck. There was a wet, echoing snap, and then… his head flew into the air, a halo of holy fire and blood erupting as it left the body.
Yet the body didn't falter.
The knight's momentum carried him forward. Aldric's headless grip tightened, poleaxe rising—not for defense, but for devastation.
The knight swung blindly, gauntlets smashing in a wild counterattack. Sparks erupted as the strike slammed against Aldric's poleaxe, forcing him back just enough to feel the raw force. Blood magic flared defensively, coiling around his arm like a living shield.
His headless body moved again—slow, clumsy, but relentless. With a single, savage motion, he swung, pushing back the knight. His gaze was sharp, assessing the rhythm. The regeneration was happening—but slower than for the head. Tendrils of holy fire licked at the stump of his neck, pulsing like a heartbeat in the void. Bone, sinew, and flesh began knitting together. The head returned first—crimson mana blazing, mouth twisting into a snarl of pure hatred.
Then, with a blinding roar, the severed head ignited, bursting into white-gold flames that consumed it utterly, leaving nothing behind. The rest of the body slowed, limbs trembling as regeneration crept.
Aldric's head was only half-grown. Crimson fire burned hotter in his chest, and a low, feral laugh slipped from his lips.
> "You call yourselves holy knights?" he hissed, voice a venomous whip.
"You call yourselves righteous, yet you try to kill a baby—a child who doesn't even know what the world is yet—and call us demons?"
Mana surged along his body, blood magic writhing like living serpents around his poleaxe. Every strike he'd made, every swing, every drop of crimson light feeding his fury—it all boiled up into a single, lethal thought: these knights were no saints. They were monsters hiding behind light.
His head quivered. Slowly, agonizingly, flesh began knitting together. Bone, muscle, sinew—and then the head. Aldric's smirk widened, jagged and dangerous, as he fully regenerated, chest heaving under holy fire and rage.
> "You're nothing but liars, lying to yourselves. You're all murderers," Aldric spat, crimson eyes narrowing on the newly restored face.
"You call yourself holy… yet here you are, trying to spill the blood of the innocent while calling us demons. Bastards."
The courtyard seemed to lean in, waiting for the next move. Aldric's poleaxe hummed in his hands, coiling with unholy energy, ready to turn holy fire and the Empire's so-called justice into nothing but sparks and screams.