In the mountains northeast of Saifer City, two figures streaked through the air, one chasing the other at breakneck speed.
The one in front was a young man wearing a flashy pink suit, his hair slicked neatly back — Bazel, the Head of the God-Worship Church in the Mandrake Principality.
Behind him pursued a middle-aged knight clad in heavy armor, his mithril plate polished to a mirror sheen. A crimson cloak with gold embroidery billowed behind him, upon which was stitched a pelican with spread wings — the sacred emblem reserved only for the royal family and the Sacrificial Royal Knights of the Kingdom.
As the distance between them widened, the knight gritted his teeth and made his choice.
"Burning Blood!"
At once, a massive surge of battle aura burst from his body. Fueled by this forbidden technique, his speed spiked dramatically as he closed the gap with Bazel. But he knew this boost was temporary — he had to finish the fight fast.
Drawing the longsword at his hip, the knight unleashed a fierce wave of flaming sword energy, forming a tornado of fire that roared toward Bazel.
But Bazel moved as if he had eyes in the back of his head. With a sudden cobra-like roll in midair, he twisted out of harm's way — though the maneuver cost him a moment of speed.
That moment was all the knight needed.
He surged forward and in the blink of an eye, was at Bazel's back. His sword gleamed with cold light as he struck downward in a lethal arc.
Yet Bazel's expression was calm, almost bored — as though the deadly strike behind him were nothing more than a child's playful swing.
"Jonas, you really are a stubborn one," Bazel sighed.
Before he could finish speaking, the sword cleaved cleanly through his body — splitting him perfectly in two.
But to the knight's horror, Bazel didn't die.
Even as his body split apart, the man turned, still smiling faintly — as though the attack hadn't mattered at all.
"It was only a city I destroyed," he said lazily. "And you've chased me all night because of it? How dull."
"Shut your mouth, monster!" Jonas roared. "Tonight, I'll avenge the hundred thousand souls of Saifer City!"
The sight of Bazel's impossible regeneration chilled him, but rage quickly burned away his fear. His fury reignited his aura, and he slashed again and again.
But this time Bazel's smirk deepened. He casually reached out — barehanded — to catch the oncoming sword.
Of course, flesh against enchanted steel should have only one outcome.
As expected, the blade sliced through Bazel's hand and arm without resistance.
Yet instead of blood, what poured forth was writhing red flesh. His severed hand pulsed and twisted, transforming into slippery crimson tentacles that coiled around the knight's sword. His bisected body writhed, threads of meat and sinew crawling over themselves until he stood whole again.
Then, without pause, Bazel raised his other hand. The knight had just finished his last swing — his strength exhausted for a brief moment. Bazel seized that instant.
"High-tier Corruption Magic: Touch of Decay!"
With a burst, Bazel's arm exploded into a mass of blood-red tendrils, which lashed out and wrapped around the knight in an instant.
A flood of corruptive power surged into the knight's body, eroding both his aura and his sanity. Overwhelming lust, rage, and despair clawed at his mind, drowning his thoughts.
"Do you know," Bazel said softly, almost amused, "why I didn't bother killing you back in Saifer City?
Was it because of your precious secret art? Or that 'legendary bloodline' of yours?"
"Y–You bastard… who the hell are you?"
With the last of his reason, the knight shouted back — but he was already bound tight, his fighting spirit rotting away under the corruption.
"Who am I?" Bazel smiled elegantly, placing a hand over his chest in a mock-noble bow.
"I almost forgot to introduce myself.
I am Bazel, the Seventh Bishop of the God-Worship Church, devoted follower of the Lord of Corruption, the Crimson Tentacle Butcher, the sole survivor of the Divine Blood Rite, and—an Undying One."
His tone grew mocking.
"Honestly, a mere Sky Knight like you — not even blessed with a Lesser Sacred Relic — I could kill you with a snap of my fingers."
Jonas's glare burned with fury, but Bazel only grinned wider.
"But where's the fun in that?
I love watching proud hunters realize that the little rabbit they chased… was actually a tiger waiting to devour them."
He chuckled darkly.
"No, you won't die so easily. The Blood Sacrifice Ritual still needs several human pillar nodes, and you, my dear knight, are one of them.
Don't worry — I'll make sure you stay alive long enough to taste the full flavor of despair. Only then will the Lord of Corruption's divine essence descend."
Jonas's pupils shrank in terror — but his body refused to move.
Dragging him effortlessly with his tentacles, Bazel soared northward, crossing the mountains until they reached the edge of the Sellephis Plains. In the distance, the silhouette of Flower City shimmered faintly on the horizon.
Bazel stopped where the mountains met the plain — before a lone stone altar.
With a casual flick, he tossed the knight onto it.
A heartbeat later, a reversed crucifix shimmered into view above the altar, and under a surge of dark energy, it nailed the knight upside-down in place.
Thick, blackened blood began to flow from the cursed spike driven through his chest, dripping slowly onto the altar.
As the blood spread, the entire altar glowed faintly crimson, pulsing with the rhythm of an ancient, malevolent heart.