When the radiance finally faded, Isabella still held her rapier, but her hunter's attire was gone. Instead, she now wore shining armor, almost like a Valkyrie descended from legend. The sunlight breaking through the clouds above made the steel blaze even brighter.
The demon only clicked his tongue.
"This time, you got lucky, humans" Kimaris hissed, and a thousand shadowy rotten arms burst from the earth, clawing toward the light.
Isabella slashed forward, her weapon erupting in a dazzling explosion of brilliance that blinded everyone around. When their sight returned, the demon was gone.
"Is he… dead?" Azazel asked, wiping blood from his mouth.
"No," Isabella replied, her voice steady but faint. "He fled. Back to Hell—to report. Now they'll know that groups have escorts. The real question is—how did they learn of the Order's plans at all? These missions were examined and safeguarded for months…"
Her armor suddenly cracked, fragments scattering as silver sparks before fading from existence. Isabella staggered and fell to one knee.
"Isabella!" Matteo rushed to catch her. Juan held her shoulder.
She coughed, crimson trickling down her lips.
"Don't worry… I'll be fine. I just need to rest."
[Awakening always takes its toll,] Azazel's grandfather whispered in his mind. [It grants strength but shortens the span of life. That is the price… She needs to recover.]
"I must inform the Order," Isabella continued, forcing herself upright. "But the mission is not complete. These people must be freed."
"You mean… the monks are still bound by the curse?" Ino asked.
"Demons rarely leave without planting their corruption. They favor objects—bells, icons, statues. Kimaris especially… he likes dark places. If he was here, the heart of his curse lies below."
Azazel's memory flared—an image of the dark passage downward he had glimpsed earlier in the corridors.
"I think I know where it might be," he said, his voice firmer than before. He raised his eyes to the team.