Chapter 13: Knight Of Treachery

I feel like I could cry tears of joy as I see the armored girl appearing before me, holding onto the fiery strings that bind the angel, but my bruised and battered face is already tearing up because of the beating I received. With a weakened breath as I wait for Excalibur to work on its regeneration again, I try to direct my face towards her and say:

“Glad to have you onboard, Petra.”

“Quite a beating you had there.” A light smirk could be observed on the girl’s face as she comments with a half-concern, half-sarcastic tone. “What happened to all that rocks you used on me?”

“Too tight of a space,” I answer. “Besides, I lucked out in that fight I had against you, so don’t expect me to do it again.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Can you stand up?”

“Give me a minute.” I let out a sigh. “But no worries; if there’s anything I’d say I’m more resilient than you at being beaten up.”

“And is that something to be proud of?” Petra shakes her head in disappointment, before turning towards Bea, who was staring at her the whole time ever since she appeared from the wall:

“You… Princess, isn’t it? Go make yourself useful and tend to your boyfriend over there.”

“My name is Beatrice, you know! And he’s not…” Bea’s face flushes red like a ripe tomato, but before she can finish her excuse, Petra has already turned away, moving towards our bound enemy. Bea, with nothing else to do, moves to my side and attempts to lift me up on my back.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve seen better.” I answer with a stiff smile, trying to laugh off the pain while I wait for my wounds to heal again.  Meanwhile, Petra has also started her own questioning to the still tied-up angel:

“I have lots of questions for you, Pierre. Tell me, when you slaughtered the people of the slum… what did you feel?”

Contrary to his almost rabid actions just a moment ago, facing Petra, Uriel seems awfully… calm. Scarily calm, even, as if the fire engulfing his arms and legs right now is instead cleansing his madness away. However, as sanity returns to his eyes, words unfortunately don’t come with it, resulting in the angel still silent at the face of the girl’s questioning.

Seeing that her target doesn’t react, Petra’s fists tighten for a second, but she seems to be able to clear herself and change the subject, in hopes of getting more information.

“It’s strange, Pierre. For a psychopath that revels in killing, I don’t think you can lose your cool like that towards a boy you just met, especially when you’re supposed to be one of the four Archangels. Tell me… who exactly are you?”

This time, with a brief smile, the angel finally opens his mouth and answers, now back to his arrogant and sarcastic tone when he confronted Petra in her cell. “I am indeed Uriel of the North, one of the four Archangels. Didn’t we establish this quite clearly, girl?”

“You’re suspecting that he’s a fake?” Upon realizing the meaning in her question, I raise my eyebrows and ask. However, before Petra could give her answer, Uriel has already gritted his teeth and scoffs at my presence:

“Don’t show your face in front of me, boy! Ugh, I can’t believe I flipped out just now… How disgraceful of me.”

“Seriously, what did I ever do to you?” His words only send me into more confusion and disarray.

“Heh.” Now with a smirk on his face, Uriel continues. “Ignorant, even to this moment. I should have known from that fool’s blood.”

“Well, are you going to explain anything to me, then?”

“Why don’t you ask that damn wizard of yours? I’m sure he would love to explain.”

“Wizard? What do you mean?” The angel’s words make less and less sense as I hear more of it. However, before I could ask any more questions, Balam has already sounded within my head:

“I wish that our story would be in a situation less… uncomfortable like this.” The Demon lets out a sigh. “But, I guess now will have to make do.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t give you the entire story.” Balam continues, his voice, for the first time, hints at sadness and regret. “It would take a whole day, maybe even more, to get everything out. Right now, I can only tell you the short version: this man you see in front of you… is Arthur’s oldest son, Mordred Pendragon, and he’s the one who killed Arthur, ending the first generation of cross-bearers.”

“Mordred… Pendragon…” I could only utter so much. To say the news was shocking to me would be an understatement. So, in the end, the fact that he bore, or rather, I bore his face wasn’t just a random coincidence. But, if we both share the same ancestral blood, then why would he be an angel, an Archangel, as a matter of fact, while everyone in my family is no more than an ordinary person? And why did he hate his own father so much, to even kill him in the end?

“Why?” In the end, that’s the only word that can come out of my mouth.

“’Why’ what, boy?” As if knowing what I have in mind already, the angel smirks. “Why did I kill my own father? Why did I continue to bear my grudge against you? Looks like the damn wizard didn’t tell you everything, huh? As expected of that fox.”

Fox? Balam, what does he mean by that?

“Alright, fun’s over.” As my question form inside my head, Petra has already interrupted the conversation with a clap of the hands. “As much as I would like to stay and hear out the rest of your family reunion, Pierre, but it seems like you’re not cooperating with me. So I’m gonna have you rest up for a bit.”

As the words leave her mouth, another black spear engulfed in flames is summoned in mid-air, pointing towards the immobilized angel, waiting for its strike.

“Wait, Petra! Are you really…”

“Easy there. I’m not killing him.” Before I can fully ask, the girl has already responded. “But, let’s just say I’m injuring him a little bit so that our getaway is easier.”

As the final words leave her mouth, so does the spear lying in wait. In what could only be described as a flash, the spear shreds through the air and through Uriel’s robe as well, leaving a nasty burn mark on his clothes as well as a small cut wound on his side.

“Uh, Petra… are you just threatening him, then? I don’t think that small of a wound would…”

“Impossible…” Contrary to my puzzled look, Petra’s face shows a clear sign of doubt and horror. “I clearly aimed at your stomach, but why…”

“Alright, fun’s over.” Using the exact words against her, now it’s Uriel’s turn to let out a smirk of his own. “I suppose it’s finally time to loosen myself.”

The flames that Petra was controlling to bind Uriel up until now has all but dissipated, as the angel, with a swift and sturdy pull, rips out of the strangle with his bare strength, leaving a nasty char on his wrist, as if his hands are about to fall right off. With his hands finally free, he continues to do the same with his feet, ripping of the flames like they were just a shred of paper. Opening and gripping his hands, the angel looks at us with an enhanced, but controlled, bloodlust like no other – the most dangerous we’ve sensed him so far.

“Don’t be so surprised.” Glancing at our distraught and tensed faces, the angel smiles once more. “Did you really think that a spell of only that strength could hold me?”

“Then… everything just now… was you toying with us again?” Petra grits her teeth; her flame of hatred is once again ignited.

“Toying with you? Don’t oversell yourself, girl.” Uriel raises his eyebrows in sarcasm. “I just needed a bit of time to cool off. And for that, I have you to thank.”

“Now, as for why you couldn’t hurt me back then, even though you clearly meant to.” Still with an arrogant smirk on his face, the angel continues. “My title of Guidance isn’t just for show, you know; it’s a sign of my gift from God. I can change the direction of anything that touches me. No weapon in the world can hurt me.”

“Even though I still grazed you with my spear?”

“That was because I let it graze me. Don’t misunderstand.”

“But… you still can’t change something you can’t touch, isn’t that right?” I add, noticing the charring on his wrists still present. “So, things like fire can work on you.”

“Good observation, boy.” Nodding his head, Uriel answers. “It’s true, I can’t change the direction of things I can’t touch, but not that it matters anyway.”

“How so?”

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“It’s because I don’t wish to use this power against you, boy.” The angel gives a surprising answer. Even though I don’t know the full reason, but if he hated me so much, why wouldn’t he use everything in his strength to see me dead?

It’s as if the man was reading my mind, as he answers right as the thought appears:

“Let’s just say the girl isn’t the only one trying to make peace with her past.” Uriel smiles once more, but this time, I can’t tell what it means. Hatred? Bitterness? Sadness? It’s a mix of all, and yet… it’s awfully calm and soothing, unlike any other side of him I’d seen. Frankly speaking, I don’t want to experience it ever again.

“Ever since I became like this, my mind has been a mess…” Not noticing my expressions, the angel continues. “I wanted to settle the score one last time with him, it made me go insane. He might be gone, but my chance did not. Your life ends here, descendant of Arthur. And I will be the one to take it, not as an angel, but as a knight. Now, let’s send you to Heaven, Pendragon.” 

Raising his hands forward, the angel begins to cloak himself in a blinding flash of red and white lightning. The crackling sound and jolts of electricity are akin to a natural storm indoors, causing everyone inside to back away in fear. The source, however, only gets stronger by the second, as soon the angel is nowhere to be seen amidst the flashing thunder. The energy around him keeps on growing bigger and bigger, until, like an old dam finally broken down by a gigantic flood, burst out a massive shockwave to our very core, blowing away even the outer layers of the once impregnable prison fortress.

I come to in a pile of rubble, of what once was a stone wall. Still feeling the occasional jolts in my muscles and joints, I exclaim in pain:

“Ugh… What was that? And where are the others?”

“Can you get off me now?” Bea’s annoyed voice sounds from behind, or rather, under me, causing me to almost immediately leap off despite my arms and legs still twitching from the shock.

“Sorry!” I then offer a hand right away to the poor princess caught in the blast. “Are you okay?”

“Surprisingly… yes,” Bea answers as she takes my hand and pulls herself up. “Believe it or not, I was mostly unaffected by that just now. Thank you.”

“It would have been better if we hadn’t got blown away from the start, though.” I shake my head in disappointment, before turning around to check on the other person in our makeshift group. “What about Petra?”

“Over here.” My eyes are immediately fixated on a bright wall of flickering flames, strengthened by black spears planted on the ground, acting as pillars of support. As the fire dissipates, the girl inside is revealed to be mostly unscathed as well, and only her black armor loses some of its shine due to the dust and heat.

“I would have made it bigger if I had more time, sorry about that.” She says, cleaning up her spears on the ground with a wave of her hand. “But seriously, I didn’t know that guy was so strong. What was that, actually?”

“One of the three magical swords that we Demons made for the first generation.” Balam sounds in my head to answer her question, but his unenthusiastic voice sounds as if we have already lost the battle. “You’re currently holding one, Excalibur. One is lost in history, Galatine. And the other… is currently in Mordred’s possession, Clarent.”

“Clarent…” I utter. The shock from earlier was more intense than anything I’d felt, even comparing to my own earth shield with Excalibur, as well as Petra’s armor from before. So, this is the power of one of the Demons’ swords… With my current handling of Excalibur, saying that there’s a gap in our strength is a massive understatement. However, if it controls lightning as shown by its power from before, then maybe…

“We still have an advantage, right?”

“Good thinking, my King.” Balam agrees with my statement. “Two advantages, in fact. First of all, as you might have noticed, Clarent mainly controls lightning, like a turbulent storm. So, Excalibur’s earth manipulation is a natural counter, as dirt, rock, and soil are usually insulators.”

“And the second?”

“Remember what I said earlier about stalling for the girl? Look at where we are now.” Balam answers. As the sun shines down on Excalibur’s now unsheathed blade, I remember his words from before. That’s right, the thing that prompted him to say it in the first place was the sign of daylight from the sun. Putting it all together…

“Does Excalibur need sunlight?”

“Correct. Not exactly ‘need’, but there is another attack that grows stronger the higher the sun is.” Balam answers. “Luckily for us, it’s nearing noon now. Meaning that the sun should be at its peak.”

“Alright, I’ll trust you on this.” I give out a hopeful nod. “What do I do now?”

However, before Balam can answer, a voice calls out to me once more, bringing me back to reality:

“Hey! Peter! Wake up!” Petra’s shouting quickly brings me back to reality, as only now do I realize the situation we’re currently in. Uriel, now clad in a full knight’s armor with a crimson cape behind his back and a bloodstained helmet on his head, takes his steps towards us. However, contrary to the crackling sounds under his sword and armor, the angel remains motionless as he calls towards me:

“Draw your sword, boy! I gave us an areana! Now let’s see your true strength!”

“What is he doing?” Petra, meanwhile, asks with a confused look on her face.

“I think he’s… challenging me?” I answer, but it’s more of a question that I’m asking myself.

“To a duel, yes.” Balam’s voice answers for me. “It seems like he really wasn’t kidding when he said he wished to kill you as a knight.”

“Well… now what?”

“He’s kind enough to wait for you to draw your sword, but unfortunately, once we unsheathe Excalibur, he will show no mercy.” Balam shakes his head in disappointment. “If only we had time…”

“Then we can win, right?”

“Not win, but hold him off.” Balam quickly corrects my claim. “The difference between you and him in terms of combat prowess right now is still night and day. With all of Excalibur’s natural counters, you can at most get to a slightly even match-up, but that’s about it.”

“Okay, then.” I anxiously answer with a nod, before turning to the girls next to me. “Alright, listen, you two: I can only hold him off for a while, so…”

“No! You’re leaving with us, no matter what!” Bea instantly scoffs at my claim. “Who do you think you are to throw away your life like that?”

Compared to Bea, Petra remains much calmer, as she closes her eyes, either to think of a solution on her own or to ask for one from her partner. After a brief pause, she asks:

“How long do you think you can hold him off for?”

“Balam?” I ask in my head.

“We need at least one minute to charge this move. Once fired, our attack and his should be able to hold each other for about two to three minutes.”

“About two to three minutes, but I need at least a minute to prepare.” I anxiously turn to Petra.

“Tch, only that much, huh?” A grunt of discomfort could be heard from the girl. However, not letting herself be down for too long, Petra continues with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll make due with what we have.”

“What do you have?”

“A plan of getting us out of here.” Petra answers, but on her face still resides a small hint of uncertainty. “You said you needed a minute to prepare your attack, right? I’ll buy you that one minute, but in return, keep the angel company for as long as you can, alright?”

“I already said I could only do two or three minutes at best, though…”

“Just do whatever you can!” Petra groans in annoyance. “I just need time, that’s all!”

“… Okay.” With a firm nod, I answer, raising my sword towards the sky to prepare for our counterattack. “I’ll try. For this next minute, I’m counting on you, Petra.”

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