Fargo and Lory stood still, calm but watchful, eyes narrowed as the smoke behind them began to shift and part. The air thickened with tension, not panic, but anticipation. They didn’t flinch. They simply waited.
From the haze, a figure stepped forward with asured grace. His short, platinum-blonde hair caught the light like frost under a full moon, gleaming with an almost unnatural sheen. Then ca his icy blue eyes, unblinking, cutting through the air with cold, surgical precision.
The man was Sean Lockwood.
The famous actor and celebrity who had chard both young and old was secretly living a double life, as one of the elite Paladins, mbers of the revered Constellation.
But that doesn’t matter, even if his true identity were known to the public, it wouldn’t trouble him; instead, it only adds to his allure. After all, the Paladins were admired and revered by many, their mythos woven into the fabric of legend, hopefully it would be enough to match the Lucient family.
He moved as if choreographed by fate itself, each step deliberate, cinematic, impossibly poised—like he knew exactly how the world should see him. Of course he did. He’d lived a thousand lives on stage and screen.
Fargo and Lory exchanged a silent glance. Without a word, they moved in opposite directions, slowly circling Sean like predators sizing up their prey.
Sean’s lip curled into a smirk. "I never thought anyone would be reckless enough to infiltrate Elysium. I’m not sure if I should call you brave... or just hopelessly stupid."
Fargo scoffed. "Really? Funny coming from the guy whose people are writhing on the floor." He gestured casually toward Simon, who was still squirming in pain, clutching his face.
Sean’s eyes darkened at the sight. Simon, curled up and whimpering, was an embarrassing ss—and a liability. Tension rippled through him as he shifted into a defensive stance, now flanked by two formidable enemies. His instincts scread: these two weren’t ordinary intruders.
Sean knew he couldn’t take them alone.
Unfortunately, Ellias was still locked in combat with another intruder. It was baffling—almost unthinkable—that anyone could hold their own against Ellias, the second-in-command of the Constellation. A man who stood just one rank below Salvo De Rova himself.
Who were these people? And what the hell was their motive?
But there was no ti to dwell on it. The tension was suffocating. His opponents were closing in, eyes sharp, movents precise. Sean’s heartbeat pounded like war drums in his chest as he tightened his grip on his sword, every muscle coiled and ready.
Then—
A scream shattered the mont. "WAIT! Don’t touch him—HE’S MINE!"
Sean blinked. From the floor, Simon pulled himself up, face streaked with tears but wearing a wide, unhinged grin. His eyes were bloodshot, wild, but no longer blinded.
He threw an empty vial to the ground, where it shattered with a sharp crack. Judging by the faint glow still lingering in the shards, it had been a high-grade recovery potion. Sohow, in the chaos, Simon had managed to heal himself.
And now, like a man reborn from madness, he was back—with even more disturbing excitent than before. "I want him," he purred. Then added with a gleam in his eye, "Actually... I want them both."
Fargo recoiled like he’d been slapped with a wet fish. "Oh, hell no!" he snapped.
Lory’s neck stiffened, a chill running down her spine. "Hey, I’M MARRIED!" she blurted out, as if it might magically repel the madman.
Sean froze. That voice... that over-the-top reaction... it was weirdly familiar. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Lory, suspicion creeping in.
"Raven Jane?" he muttered, almost involuntarily.
"Eh?" Lory was stiffened but imdiately collected herself. "Oh, is that your girlfriend?" she sneers.
Sean shrugged nonchalantly but didn’t hide the hope in his voice, "Maybe, soday."
Lory was stunned. Her expression turned a few degrees colder, lips tightening ever so slightly. She tried to recall if she had ever done anything that could have led Sean to misunderstand her intentions. But no matter how hard she searched her mory, she ca up empty.
She was certain, absolutely certain, she had done nothing to make Sean think that way. If anything, she had treated him with a knife to his throat. So, where was this delusion coming from?
Fargo cast a sidelong glance at her, one brow raised in silent question—as if to say, ’What did you do, Lory?’
She felt the weight of his gaze but ignored it. There was no ti to entertain Sean’s ridiculous fantasy. And truthfully, she didn’t care to.
Then, without warning, Simon let out a chilling, raspy cackle. He drew the sword from his waist, the blade singing as it left the scabbard. His eyes glead with manic excitent.
"You can have the woman," he hissed. "Let deal with the man. But if you’re still not done with her when I’m done, I’m gonna insist on taking her myself."
Sean scoffed, the sound sharp with disgust. He didn’t like Simon; he never had. But at the mont, he had no better option. Andreas and the other Paladins were still outside, likely prioritizing the safety of the Saintess and Alexander Behrenn. That’s why he had no other option but to accept this freak’s help.
"Okay, I’ve had it with all of you acting like this is going to be easy!" Fargo barked, voice booming like thunder, his eyes blazing with fury. "Especially you, you smug little weirdo! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
His words cracked through the air like a whip, drawing a mont of stillness, as if the battlefield itself held its breath.
"Let’s not waste more ti, we don’t have all day!" Lory said before she lunged in rapid moves. It’s an explosion of motion, a blur of steel and intent, as she launches herself at Sean with deadly precision. At the exact sa mont, Fargo surged forward like a battering ram, his broadsword already mid-swing as he charged Simon head-on.
Sean’s eyes flicked with hesitation, the edges of doubt cutting into his focus. There was sothing about her—sothing familiar in the way she moved, in the fury behind her eyes. It gnawed at him like a half-rembered dream, clawing for recognition.
’Could she not be her?’ Sean was clouded with doubt.
But there was no ti to think. No ti to breathe. Lory’s twin daggers ca screaming toward him in a silver arc, aid with the precision of a killer.
Sean barely managed to raise his sword in ti, parrying the strike with a clang that rang out like a gunshot. Sparks exploded between their blades, the force of her assault driving him two steps back.
She didn’t pause instead, her movent quickened. Her blades were everywhere. Cutting, spinning, pressing the assault with a fury that felt personal. And maybe it was.
anwhile, Fargo t Simon with a resounding crash of tal and force. Their blades collided, Fargo’s broadsword against Simon’s claymore, with enough power to send shockwaves through the ground beneath them.
Simon laughed with a high, twisted cackle that bordered on madness. "Yes, this is what I was hoping for!" he howled, gleeful, his eyes wild. "Let’s see how long you last!" Their sword clashed, making a light spark.
Fargo didn’t bother to trade words. He brought his blade down in an avalanche of strikes, hamring Simon back step by step, his muscles burning, his grip unrelenting. Simon danced with him, grinning through the storm, answering every blow with one of his own.
Back with Sean, the fight had turned feral. Lory was relentless. She fought like a storm, swirling in the air as her twin daggers sliced the air with deadly rhythm.
Sean gritted his teeth, parrying, dodging, barely holding his ground. Every movent was clean, trained, and precise. He knew he was facing with professional fighter.
However, this pressure, this intensity, feels so much like that woman, could she be that woman, the first woman that had piqued his interest?
Sean insisted this feeling wasn’t love, even though her cold gaze kept haunting his daydreams. Was it because she was the only woman unaffected by his charm? Maybe because she never cared about his advances, unlike the other won who like play hard to get.
No! Raven Jane was different; she was annoyingly calm and steady, nothing he could say could shake her, just like a mountain, she remained cold and distant.
Sean had known from the mont they t, right up until the end, that she held not even a slight bit of feeling about him, not even curiosity. Then again, his pride as a man refused to accept and blad everything on their short interaction.
Perhaps if they spent more ti, maybe...
Their eyes t for a fleeting second as their weapons locked. Sean stared into hers—different in color than he rembered, yet it the sa soul searing gleam he’d only ever seen in her.
His heart pounded in his chest.
In a burst of motion, he flashed a blinding light toward Lory and lunged for her mask. But she was faster—already pulling back, already gone. His fingers grasped nothing but empty air.
Isn’t this the story of his life? No, he will not give up! With a sharp motion, he summoned vines from the ground, aiming to snare her before she could slip away again.
Suddenly, a wind blade struck like lightning, slicing through the vines mid-surge. Lory leapt backward in a long arc, then flung a set of hidden knives at Sean as she moved.
Sean reacted instantly, swinging his sword in a swift arc—clang, clang, clang—deflecting the incoming blades.
All of a sudden, an explosion ca from above and rocked the room. The next thing happened, suddenly the ceiling above them cracked, then collapsed with a thunderous roar. Lory raised a protective shield just in ti as steel beams and rubble rained down, crashing onto her barrier.
From the gaping hole above, a voice shouted in urgency, "Jump!"
Fargo dropped down, grabbed Lory by the arms, and hurled her through the air like a cannonball. She gritted her teeth, cursing him under her breath for the reckless throw, but quickly regained control, summoning wind to steady her flight.
Sean watched her slip away once again, just like before. Just like always.
But he wasn’t letting her go this ti. Sean took a powerful leap into the air in pursuit, but only to be yanked back mid-flight. Sean felt a strong hand clamped around his ankle.
"Where do you think you’re going, lover boy?" Fargo growled, grinning nacingly. Then, with brutal force, he slamd Sean into the ground like a broken kite.
Fargo snorted loudly and then launched himself upward, leaving the chaos behind. While on the ground, Simon, bloodied and covered in wounds, cried pitifully. "Where do you think you’re going? We’re not over yet, CO BACK HERE!" The last sentence was filled with impatient and anger.
"What a crazy man!" Fargo grumbled under his breath.
Ellias watched as the enemies vanished one by one. The realization hit him hard—they weren’t just strong, they were resourceful. How many explosions would it take to tear a hole in Elysium? And how had they bypassed its protective layers?
’What a bunch of useless fools,’ he thought bitterly.
Lifting his chin, he looked at Stephan, "Are you going to leave too?"
"What, miss already?" Stephan quipped.
"Yeah. Why don’t you stay? We can’t talk." Ellias invited him casually as if they were old friends.
Stephan shrugged, lips curling into a mocking grin. "Sorry, you’re not my type."
"Oh really? And you think I’ll just let you walk out of here, alive?" Ellias challenged, voice sharp.
Stephan smirked. "Well, you don’t have a choice."
At that mont Ellias sensed a hostile presence behind him. He twisted to evade—but too late. A flash of pain tore across his back. He staggered, reaching behind him, and his fingers ca away wet with blood. He’d been hit!
The attacker wore a mask and a dark suit, his features completely hidden, just like the others. Before Ellias could react, a smoke bomb exploded, filling the room with a thick, choking fog. Shadows flickered... and then gradually faded.
As the smoke began to clear, an eerie silence settled over the room. Ellias knew they had escaped, and it had all happened right under his nose.
Rage ignited inside him. His power surged outward, shattering everything around him in a violent burst. Ellias scread, voice echoing through the ruined hall—
"WHERE IS FUC*ING EVERYONE?!"
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