What was the Dark Spades?

If someone on the continent asked that question, they would be called the biggest fool alive.

In Aldoria, even a ten-year-old child knew their name. The Dark Spades were not just an organization; they were a shadow that haunted the world.

Followers of the once-reigning evil god—the one said to be sealed deep in the Abyss—they were whispers of chaos, blades that moved in the dark. Wherever they went, blood and fear followed.

So what did that have to do with Luke?

There was a reason Azhriel had chosen him. Luke was not just some stray who had accepted demonic energy. Once, even if it was only for a short time, he had been a part of the Dark Spades.

He wasn't high-ranked, no. He had only served at the lower posts, but that alone made him useful And more importantly, it meant he had seen things, heard things. Things like where some of their hidden bases might be.

Unlike demons, who were somehow able to trace, the Dark Spades were like roaches—spreading in secret, with countless hideouts scattered across the continents.

Azhriel knew many of the Spades hideout and even it's main base. However extra information never hurts right?.

Luke's breath came fast and shallow, fogging the cold air around him. Every muscle in his body trembled as if weighed down by a mountain.

The blue glow from Azhriel's palm sank into his chest, cutting off his demonic energy like chains of frost.

"Dark Spades," Azhriel said at last, voice low and calm, but each word landed with the weight of a blade. "Where is their hideout? How much do you know?"

Luke swallowed, his eyes wide. "I—I can't… I can't say… They'll kill me."

"They?" Azhriel's voice lowered further, almost a whisper, and yet it felt as if the temperature in the room plummeted. He looked at him, those azure eyes piercing straight through him.

"Luke, you're already dead. The only thing you get to choose now… is whether your death be quick and swift or it will be full of pain that even your will remember."

The glow in Azhriel's hand flared, and Luke let out a choked scream as the demonic corruption in his veins writhed in agony, unable to escape.

"Talk."

Luke broke almost instantly. "O-old iron mines! At the East from here, beneath the trade route! There's a hideout there. I was low rank! Orders always came from shadows—we never saw faces. I swear, that's all I know!"

The pressure eased slightly. Azhriel stared into his terrified eyes, searching for any hint of a lie.

"…That's all?"

Luke nodded desperately. "I don't even know who gave me the energy! Please, I told you everything!"

The words hung in the air. Azhriel's palm still rested against his chest.

And for a moment, he stopped.

The frost in his hand wavered. His thoughts, which had been sharp and cold until now, hesitated. A part of him whispered that killing Luke wouldn't bring anything back. That perhaps, just this once, he could let someone live.

His fingers slackened ever so slightly.

But then—

His mind was pulled back.

His mother's golden hair soaked in blood.

His father's strong arms limp and broken.

His parents death because of these vile beings.

The hesitation burned away in an instant.

The blue glow surged, cold and absolute, and Azhriel's voice came out like the final verdict of a judge.

"For them."

The ice burst forward, spearing through Luke's chest. The demonic energy inside him shattered, snuffed out before it could spill into the room.

Luke's eyes went wide, mouth opening but no sound escaping, before all strength left him.

His body slumped in the chair. His eyes, frozen wide in fear, would never close again.

Azhriel stared at him silently for a long moment. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the ice dissolved into mist, leaving the room clean and silent as if nothing had happened.

"...How useless," he whispered, without a trace of warmth in the words.

Without another glance, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

*****

At the Banquet Hall.

With a single step, David was gone from where he stood. His form blurred, leaving an afterimage as he appeared before a young cadet frozen in terror, his hand shaped into a claw, ready to tear through the boy.

Clang!

The sound of metal striking with force echoed like thunder.

A spear came down in a sharp, controlled motion, intercepting the blow. Sparks scattered across the ground like fireflies.

At the same moment, a flash of silver sliced through the air from the side—another blade caught David's other claw, deflecting it away from the cadet.

Two figures now stood between David and his intended victim.

Raymond Dawnlight's golden-and-white suit was dust-streaked, his golden hair slightly out of place, but his stance was unwavering. In his hands, the long spear radiated a bright golden aura, its glow steady against the malice spilling from David.

Beside him, Samuel's calm, composed face was tighter than usual, his twin dark daggers moving like extensions of his own hands, reflecting the chandeliers' flickering light.

"You're not laying a hand on anyone," Raymond said, his voice low, steady, carrying a weight that silenced the panic around them for just a moment.

David tilted his head, grin widening even further. "So… the stars of the entrance exam want to play heroes, huh?"

Without another word, he lunged again.

This time the impact of his strike sent out a shockwave, pushing the students back and knocking over tables.

Raymond dug his heels into the floor, his aura bracing him as he spun his spear in a circular motion, redirecting the force upward. The blow would have shattered a weaker weapon however not his spear.

"Oh—he's faster than I thought," Samuel said, barely ducking a follow-up strike. One of David's claws grazed his shoulder, the fabric of his suit tearing open.

"Just keep him away from them!" Raymond shouted back.

"I know!"

The battle raged across the hall.

Every move David made was wild but backed with immense corrupted strength. He was reckless, unrefined—but dangerous.

Each swipe of his clawed hand and demonic blade left scars on the marble floor, each step he took carried a surge of black-red energy that sapped the strength of anyone too close.

Raymond's spear clashed again and again with David's claws, each collision ringing out like a bell. Samuel darted around the edges of their fight, his daggers cutting precise lines through the air.

Whenever David overextended, Samuel struck, leaving bluish dark slashes across the corrupted man's skin.

And yet, the demonic energy clung to David like armor, making every wound shallow, every cut slower to take effect.

The cadets watching from the safety of the edges could hardly breathe. To them, the fight was just blurs of gold, blue and black crashing together.

"You're nothing!" David roared, striking down at Raymond with both claws. His sword had been already broken by the duo.

Raymond crossed his spear in defense. The force of the blow drove him back, his feet carving shallow trenches in the marble. Pain shot up his arms, but he refused to give way.

Samuel took the opening. He vanished from his position and reappeared behind David, both daggers crossing in a scissoring strike.

The blades cut deep across David's back. Black-red blood spilled, hissing where it hit the floor.

David howled in rage and spun wildly, his aura bursting outward. The shockwave threw Samuel back, but Raymond stepped forward, raising his spear high.

Golden light began to run along the weapon, starting from the tip and cascading downward like liquid sunlight. The air around him vibrated, filled with a sharp, heavy hum.

"Now!" Raymond shouted.

Samuel steadied himself, blood trickling from the cut on his shoulder, and dashed in again.

David lunged to meet them, his claws aiming to rip them apart, but Samuel's daggers met him first, striking upward, the silver aura burning into David's arms and slowing him just enough.

"This ends here!" Raymond's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

He thrust forward.

The spear extended, its golden light turning into a streak that pierced straight through David's chest.

A roar tore out of David's throat, but before he could recover, Samuel's daggers crossed at his neck in a blur, slicing deep with a finishing strike, leaving a trail of glowing silver.

The demonic energy howled as if alive, thrashing wildly before collapsing in on itself.

A dark mist burst outward, but Raymond's golden aura shielded everyone nearby, cutting through the corrupted air.

For a heartbeat, the hall was silent.

Then David's body wavered, his expression twisted in rage and disbelief, before he finally collapsed with a heavy thud, the corrupted energy dispersing like smoke.

The hall stood frozen, students staring at the fallen body and the two young men who now stood victorious, breathing hard but unbroken.

Samuel lowered his daggers, his sharp eyes still scanning the hall. "That… was stronger than what I expected," he said quietly.

Raymond planted the back of his spear against the floor, his golden aura slowly fading. "Yeah," he murmured, gaze never leaving David's still body. "And I don't why but I have a feeling, that this is just the beginning."

The danger was over—for now.

The Barrier had been shattered and the Archons and instructors came in an instant.

******