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"I merely think it is a thoughtful gesture to give one\'s name to his victim. It is a sad thought for one to be killed by a nameless entity. Mm...I don\'t know if there is any point in telling rather than showing, but I suppose some don\'t care much for surprises. I guess the dead have the right to be impatient."

This guy is cocky as hell despite his dead-pan tone! If only this damn barrier wasn\'t in the way, I\'d--ugh, Lucas thought.

Staying quiet, his silence seemed to coax the stern, yet talkative greyed, old cultist as he kept his hollow eyes on the boy.

"A summoning ritual is being performed; the opposite of a sacrifice, isn\'t it?"

"Summoning?...Just what\'re you trying to conjure?"

Asking this to the gravelly-voiced man of few hairs, Lucas watched Kalda as he narrowed his eyes before finally answering.

"I suppose you will learn the name of the promised spirit soon enough--it seems the time of reckoning is now upon us. Hear me, those who sit on a horizon above malevolence and benevolence!"

As his voice suddenly rose to a new high, the seal\'s subtle glow vastly brightened as the stagnant cold air within the accursed room became ferocious.

"What\'s going on?!"

From behind Lucas, the familiar voice belonging to the kind-hearted woman called out. Turning around, the three had returned, looking into the room from within the corridor.

"Get away! Get everyone else into the cellar!...Now!"

Lucas\' high, throat-tearing yell pushed the worried trio to hesitantly follow his command as they retreated back into the manor.

"You cannot save them, mage of Mastorn. You cannot save even yourself from the fate you sealed once you entered this estate."

"Oh, yeah?"

I\'ve got to do something about this barrier. I hate to admit it...But I don\'t feel very confident about handling whatever is being summoned, he thought.

Taking in a long, shaky inhale into his lungs, he filled his chest with forced determination as he allowed his mana to rapidly flow through every section of his body.

"...All around us, you exist. Your will, your breath, your wisdom--the four winds that coalesce into this world. Winds that have seen all, heard all; whisper into the world this unmatched wisdom and chatter the corruption before my eyes! Anemoi: Winds of Judgment!"

Invoking the great magic from the bowels of his spirit, Lucas manifested a powerful fit of wind that began to naturally peel away at the wooden constitution of the manor.

"Try as you might, no magic will pierce this barrier!--"

"Shut up and watch me!"

As his emerald jewels shone with an angered resolve, Lucas pointed his digits towards Kalda as the newly formed winds followed his direction; manifesting into an almost tangible form as the winds took on a verdant sheen.

Bringing the divine, wise winds against the crimson barrier, the manifested breath of the heavenly began to weaken the constitution of the shield around the cultist. For the first time, he showed true emotion as his wrinkled face twisted up with a variety of emotions: disgust, horror, shock--he immediately placed all of his efforts on his held texts.

"...Seas of crimson, vermilion  skies, this is the paradise you seek. It is the paradise we\'ve diligently prepared for you for centuries to come. It is yours--yours for the taking."

As he continued his chants, invoking the seal into further amplification as it radiated with an almost blinding light, the winds continued to attack the barrier, violently shaking it as cracks began to form across it.

"All of the wickedness in this world, conjured by those who breathe in its air, drink its water, eat its crop; make it your new utopia of death and brimstone."

"No!..."

Lucas could feel it from Kalda\'s words--the summoning was nearing completion; the entire manor began to violently rumble under the nefarious energy manifesting itself into the realm. Pushing with all of his might, the winds of magic dissolvement finally began to tear away at the barrier--but it was too late.

"O\' great Count of Destruction, birth yourself into this wanting realm; plant your seed into its soil and arise from it a new world under your infinite wisdom and power. Take it and make it yours, Halphas!"

With those last words, the seal set off completely; the crimson glow unleashing a blinding light as a massive force generated. The winds formed by Lucas\' great magic crashed against Kalda, tearing his robes to shreds and leaving him covered in lacerations--but the pain didn\'t seem to even faze him as he held a wicked smile in awe of his efforts meeting their end.

Shit!...I was too late!

Raising his arms, he could barely maintain his footing as the release of such bountiful energy propelled itself into existence.

"Yes...Yes! Arise! Arise! It\'s all been for you! All of this bloodshed, the massacre!"

Kalda cackled like a madman, spreading his arms open into a welcoming embrace as both he and Lucas laid eyes on the mass that began to form in the center of the chamber. Just looking at its obscure form, Lucas could feel its origin--absolute evil, dread, and despair.

"I have prepared a feast most bountiful, Halphas!...Consume it all until it is done!"

The light began to simmer down as the manifested figure seemed to be forming itself; birthing into the realm as arms and legs sprouted forth from its body. It was hard to see exactly, mainly because the sight before his eyes was so unnatural; unmistakably, the bald head of the figure sprouted forth a long, sharp beak.

"Ah…"

"O\' great Halphas! You\'re here!"

Kalda held his hands together as if praying, holding a tearful smile as if meeting the very pinnacle of his own life. Watching this happen, Lucas was completely frozen by the peculiar situation--finding himself looking upon the form of the summoned entity.

It was covered in stygian skin with the body of a genderless, thin human, standing mighty in height as it stood a full two heads taller than the lanky cultist. Though its body was humanoid, its head was that of a stork no doubt with its lengthy beak; its pupilless crimson eyes holding an era of malevolence within them.

The more he looked at it, the less human it seemed to become; its thin arms ending in wretched claws as did its feet. It was slightly hunched over, simply standing there as it seemed to adjust to its new existence in this world.

"...So."

"Halphas?..."

As it finally spoke with a hoarse voice, the cultist watched in earnest, looking up at the enigmatic entity as it looked down at the seal it was brought in from.

"I suppose this is what is responsible for bringing me into this world. This is the work of your craft, Belmon believer?"

"...Yes! Yes! It was I, Kalda, who did the honor of bringing you into this realm!"

Proclaiming his accomplishment, Kalda fervently bowed down to the dark entity, nodding his head so fiercely it seemed it may fall off his shoulders.

"You used such a pitiful seal to summon me?"

"Huh?..."

"It\'s messily drawn, the blood is scarce...It is all too small. I will require many sacrifices to fully manifest myself. Such imperfection...Disappointing."

The being named Halphas turned its beady, crimson eyes to the fake priest, who seemed to age ten years under the primordial gaze of the malevolent entity.

"P-p-please forgive me, Lord Halphas!"

"Such things must be perfect; I\'ll handle the sacrifice myself. Begone."

With a single swipe of its hand, the stork-humanoid parted Kalda\'s head from his body, holding in his claws the disembodied head as he parted his beak wide, sliding the dripping head into his maw and swallowing it whole.

Lucas found himself gagging at the sight, having to cover his mouth to prevent spilling his disgust out in a tangible, liquid form as Halphas finally turned to face him.

"A magus? A bountiful meal."

As it began to step toward the hazel-haired boy with malice guiding its movement, it suddenly came to a stop before raising its head toward the ceiling.

"Ah...A stronger magical energy is close by. Such a meal will surely bring about my full manifestation."

A stronger energy than myself?...Could it be? Lucas thought.

Just as the possibilities brought themselves into his mind, Lucas flinched as a thunderous force impacted the roof of the compromised manor. Dust and wood shavings showered down atop him before another impact came--this time shattering the roof completely as a figure fell into the room, landing between Halphas and Lucas.

A man dressed in armor bulky enough to be worn only by himself, wielding a greatsword that he held so carelessly over his shoulder--such familiar vermilion locks that had black roots sitting at the core of his crown. The sight of the figure immediately eased the aching despair in Lucas\' heart as he finally found the will to smile once more.

"Sora!"