Everyone was mildly shocked as Dracula's blood-formed hammer slammed into Camazotz, who was clearly not the creature they once knew.

"What's going on here? I thought Darkness was supposed to corrupt them. But Camazotz was already corrupted, so how come he changed again?" Valra muttered with fear and disbelief.

Not just Camazotz—even with Nergal before, she couldn't understand how both had shifted.

Essa frowned for a moment before whispering, "It… seems someone is controlling him, just like Nergal… using the darkness."

Valra's eyes darted to Essa, "But who could wield such power over the darkness itself? Who could twist it, command it, and shatter the will of monsters?"

Essa's gaze turned slowly toward… the relic. Valra's eyes widened in shock and terror, a single word escaping her lips, "It's impossible—"

"The Darkness was Sealed by the Fated one... who was also responsible for creating this Relic!" Essa murmured.

She turned, watching with haunted eyes as Camazotz's wings beat erratically in the black air, thick globs of sticky darkness raining down and hissing as they struck stone.

Even though it was sticky and wet, he was still flying with his wings!

His hollow eyes, empty pits weeping black sticky liquid, fixed upon Dracula with an expression twisted by rage. In a flash, Camazotz dove, wings cleaving the fetid air as he hurtled downward, mimicking Dracula's voice:

"I fear no one… I fear no one!!"

Dracula smirked, "Yes, I never fear anyone!"

Raising his hand, blood magic swirling at his command, he conjured a crimson knife shimmering with ghostly runes. With a flick, he sliced through one of Camazotz's wings, spraying black gore across the ruined ground. Without mercy, he lifted his blood hammer again and slammed it into the falling beast, smashing Camazotz into the ground with brutal finality.

BOOM!

He started hammering him into the ground like a nail, each blow a thunderous horror that shook the world. Dracula's hands were relentless, as he beat Camazotz again and again, the monster unable to scream, unable even to resist.

A massive crater spread beneath them, the stones fracturing, the earth pulsing with every strike. Dracula poured all the humiliation, all the old wounds, into each swing, unleashing every drop of rage he'd suffered from this broken wretch.

"Haha… Take this, fucker! Take all of it!" he roared, voice jagged with hate and twisted pleasure. His face became a mask of lunacy as he hammered, Camazotz's body crushed into a pulpy, black-and-bloody paste beneath the blows.

Meanwhile, Leo and the others could only stare in numb silence at the monstrous duel. After a heartbeat, Leo turned to Raphael, "You take Azrael and others... leave this place," he commanded.

"H-Huh? No way! I would never—" Raphael's voice cracked, fear and stubbornness tangled together. But before she could finish, Leo's face darkened. He spoke deadly serious, "I have a plan, believe me. If you all stay here, you'll only hinder it—and I won't let you die here with me."

Azrael frowned, her fingers curling at her side. "We don't even know the plan," she muttered, a curious and desperate edge to her voice. All this time, they'd faced danger as one. Why was he suddenly carrying a secret?

Leo smiled weakly, pain flickering in his eyes. "Now is not the time for explanations. You need to get out, now," he said, clenching his fist, "Camazotz isn't acting like himself. He's attacking anyone, even Dracula... Which, in a way, is good for us. This is our only chance."

Raphael and Azrael exchanged a glance. They understood. They'd witnessed Dracula's true power. They knew defeat was certain if they stayed. They had spent every ounce of strength, every last hope, and now, if the battle continued, it would only lead to their deaths.

However,

"What about the relic? What if he gets it and… you know the danger, right? He'll come back for us!" Raphael said, her voice trembling with a worried tone.

Leo nodded, his gaze steady, "That's why I'm telling you to leave… If he gets the relic, we'll all be lost. I can't risk any of you being caught up in what's coming."

"What are you going to do?" Azrael frowned, her voice tight as she slowly sat up from Raphael's lap, each movement stiff from exhaustion and dread.

Leo took a slow, shaky breath,

"I'm going to… steal it."

Azrael raised her eyebrows in sharp disbelief. Raphael was mildly surprised; her lips parted in protest, about to question him when Azrael interrupted with a hard, serious look.

"How good do you really think your plan will work?"

Leo hesitated, "Fifty-fifty," he finally answered.

Raphael's face turned pale, blood draining from her cheeks as she immediately shook her head in panic.

"No, no! I will not let you face this thing alone… Let's just go home, together… We've made it this far, haven't we?" She gestured desperately at Dracula and Camazotz locked in brutal battle.

"Maybe they'll kill each other, maybe we'll get lucky. Please, let's just go home already," she begged, her words cracking with fear and a trace of hope.

Leo blinked, his eyes lowering for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Raphael… but this is my fate."

He turned away, slowly moving toward the chaos.

Raphael nearly leapt to her feet, heart pounding, reaching after him. But Azrael caught her wrist, holding her back with surprising strength.

"Let me go! I can't let him—" Raphael cried, struggling.

"What are you going to do?" Azrael's voice was cold, forcing her to face the hopelessness.

"Huh? I'll fight, just like before," Raphael shot back.

"Oh? Fight? Do you even realise what that thing is? If you get an inch close to it, you'll end up like them!" Azrael warned with a dark, serious tone, her eyes filled with the grim truth of survivors.

"And you don't even have your guns anymore. Look at yourself."

Raphael's face went even paler. "Then what about Leo? He might—" her voice broke with fear for him.

"He could still use that technique," Azrael interrupted, "And right now, we'd only get in his way… We're utterly weak." She pointed to her own weapon—a gun snapped in half, useless in her hand.

Raphael hesitated, her eyes sweeping over Valra and the others… They were all too weak. Even Essa was barely standing.

Raphael lowered her head, fists clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms. Rage and helplessness twisted her face, tears threatening. For a split second, Azrael's eyes widened—she glimpsed a black tattoo blooming on Raphael's neck, almost flinching, while the tip of Raphael's hair turned pure white, as if something was awakening, straining to break free.

Azrael's breath caught in her throat.

But in the blink of an eye, the tattoo vanished. Raphael's expression softened, dazed and confused, as if nothing had happened at all.

Azrael said nothing—just held Raphael's arm, pulling her away from the battlefield, leading her back toward others.

"We need to leave. Now," Azrael said in a grim tone.

"What about Leo?" Valra asked.

Azrael drew a ragged breath, shoulders sagging. "We don't have anything left to help him. He chose this fate," she replied, her voice rough and final, as she gently pushed everyone to move.

"Come, let's leave," she whispered.

"B-But—" Even Essa hesitated.

But then Azrael cut in, "He asked us to believe him… He believed in us, trusted us to make it this far, right? So… it's time for us to believe in him." She turned back and saw Dracula still hammering Camazotz into a spreading pool of black tar; a look of monstrous happiness stretched across his face.

He seemed utterly lost in the violence, as if the only thing that mattered in the world was crushing Camazotz into oblivion.

Leo… He crouched in the debris, his hand closing around a length of twisted metal wire salvaged from the ruins. Moving with quiet focus, he slowly wrapped the wire around his palms, glancing back at his friends who were now retreating, step by step, away from the carnage.

A soft, bittersweet smile touched his lips, hope and goodbye mingling in his eyes. Then, turning his attention to the relic, he swung the wire with a flick of his wrist—like a cowboy snapping a lasso to catch a wild bull.

Thuck!

The wire arced perfectly through the chaos and landed, coiling around one of the relic's glowing metal petals. Leo gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he tried to pull the relic toward him.

For a moment, it didn't even twitch!

But then, Leo inhaled, drawing mana deep into his lungs.

Suddenly, the relic shifted—not with the force of Leo's pull, but floating towards him.

It moved with a will of its own as if some connection awakened by Leo's mana.

He wasn't sure why, but a thought flickered—maybe, just maybe, the relic recognised him as a mage now, or at least as someone worthy?

Either way, with a cautious smile, Leo gently draped his arm around the relic, careful not to make a sound as he prepared to steal away the artifact that could change everything.

"Haha… This is what you get, fucker! Haha… take this! Take this! For the humiliation you dealt me! Fuck you!!" Dracula screamed, his voice splitting the air with wild glee as his blood-soaked hammer pounded Camazotz into a shapeless pile of steaming tar.

The Blood Hammer in Dracula's hands dripped with black, sticky filth, the substance crawling up the hammer slowly trying to reach his arm, but he didn't care in the slightest.

The humiliation Camazotz had inflicted... being treated as a dog, a slave, less than nothing—was now being avenged.

The rage and joy twisted together in Dracula's eyes, his focus absolute… until—

Thud!

He flinched, his head snapping around, twisting 180 degrees to glare behind him. The relic, which moments before had hovered above the middle of the junction, had suddenly crashed down with a heavy force far from the middle.

Leo stood nearby, caught in the act, gripping the metallic wire like a thief caught red-handed, eyes wide with a jolt of panic.

"Shit!"

Before Dracula could process what was happening, Leo yanked the wire—then turned and ran, the relic dragged behind him.

Dracula's eyes narrowed to crimson slits. "MONGREL!" he roared, his fangs bared, mouth twisted in a snarl.

Instantly, his wings flared open with a wet snap, and he launched himself into the air, following Leo with a howl of fury.

Meanwhile, in the deep crater, the pile of black, sticky tar that had been Camazotz began to quiver. The bubbling mass groaned, and from within its depths, a warped, monstrous claw slowly extended—stretching outward like the hand clawing out!

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