The dark energy kept streaming from outside the fence.

Sylve and her remaining followers had given it their all to maintain the light wall, but more and more darkness came in.

The bats seemed to multiply in number and Arran was busy with keeping them all safe from the bites of the deadly bats.

It was then Rogh pushed his hands up harder and there were also some thunder that came with the dark energy. The thunder that roared and the dark energy grew much bigger and stronger.

Two more of Sylve followers screamed and exploded into ashes that turned also to be bats.

Sylve was affected.

She was pushed back, her old body was not how it used to be.

The wall of light shook harder, then a booming sound was heard.

One of the bats scratched Arran's cheek. A bloody gash appeared on it.

Sylve saw the blood on Arran's cheek and that did it for her.

She screamed and fell on the ground. Her remaining followers, the older, more senior ones by now also fell.

Rogh let out a roar and pushed ahead.

The scarlet fence shattered.

Rogh and Nerra barged in, all the bats seemed to know their master was in and they all flew to Rogh, and got absorbed into his body, while Nerra started attacking the followers of Sylve.

Sylve stood up and protected her followers by countering the sorcery of Nerra with her own.

Rogh was going to attack Sylve too when Arran came and stood in front of him.

"Rogh, back off from Sylve," Arran put his body in between Rogh and Sylve, the old sorceress was busy protecting her followers from Nerra's attack.

Rogh sneered at him."Do you want to prove that you are my worthy son and kill her with your own hands?"

"No. I challenge you for a battle, Rogh."

Rogh looked at Arran full of disdain, his ugly mouth opened, showing his shark teeth and blowing out rancid breath."Do you even have magic skills? Are you even a wizard? Challenging me is stupid, my boy."

Arran was unmoved by his father's provocation. "Sylve taught me some ... magic. For self-defense. She was worried, too much magic would endanger her and her followers because of who my father is. But I will fight you with what I have, and with this necklace ..." his silver necklace glistened as he spoke.

"Ah. Evinia, dear sweet Evinia. Sweet and stupid and gullible Evinia who believed a necklace could help her half-demon son!"

Arran gritted his teeth in rage when he heard such words being spoken about his mother by Rogh.

"Don't you dare speaking about my mother in that way. I am not, nor will I ever be a son to you. Tonight, here, between you and me, Rogh. We will battle."

"You are so cold to your own father."

"You are not my father."

"Well. I am."

"You are not my father, Rogh ..." Arran remembered something that Charlotte had said before, something that had become his beacon now in his battle against darkness,"I should not be punished for your sins, Rogh. Who you are does not decide who I am and who I will be."

Rogh shook in anger. "Let us battle then! If you lose, you come with me to the underworld! Let us rule together and taste the fresh blood of human beings!"

Arran nodded, and he unsheathed his sword. He knew this would be a hard battle. Rogh's magic skill was far above him, Sylve had taught him basic magic to protect himself, but it was never at any advanced level. His warrior skills were superior but his magic was limited. Despite it all, he knew he had to fight with all he had. For Charlotte, for this thing called love that had left him reeling, amazed, confused, yet stronger. The necklace around his neck—simple yet so powerful—would help. He believed that.

"Sword. I like that. Such gentlemanly way of fighting," Rogh jeered, the demon king flicked his hands and two swords appearing on his left and right hand, they were blood-red swords, floating a couple inches from his hands. "But see, Arran, sword and magic. Even better!"

Arran was ready. His sword on his right hand and his necklace shone gently.

Rogh shouted to the dark sky, and his two swords flew fast toward Arran.

The battle between the father and son had begun ...

<<<>>>

Sylve fought Nerra with all strength she could muster. Her followers assisted her while Nerra used her black magic to create index-finger sized daggers that flew around, zipping about fast and attacking the followers. Two followers got stabbed by it and they died instantly.

Sylve raged at that sight, so did the few remaining followers. They doubled up on their sorcery and defended against the knives.

While Sylve focused on Nerra.

The two women had powerful sorcery, but Sylve had more patience, skill, and strategy. She was old, but not absentminded. Her sharp mind calculated her moves and her sorcery target, and it paid off against Nerra's raging, haphazard, less well thought-of attacks. She was pretty, but not as smart and cunning as the matured and experienced Sylve.

Sylve toyed with Nerra, she made her tired, she let her get frustrated, she made sure her followers have the chance to battle the knives sent by Nerra without Nerra attacking them too.

At some point, Sylve pretended to fall after getting hit by Nerra's magic, and she laid face down on the ground.

Nerra was elated and that made her let her guard down.

She went and checked on Sylve, grinning ear to ear the whole time.

Sylve turned around, grabbed the demon by the the neck, and used another hand to stab Nerra in the heart with a small dagger she kept behind her cape.

Nerra howled, her body convulsed, then she began to turn into ashes as black as the night, from her toes all the way to the tips of her beautiful platinum blonde hair.

The pretty demon was dead.

Though Sylve did not win the battle unscathed. Some of Nerra's sorcery attacks on her had indeed wounded her internally. Fresh blood dripped from the corner of her lips. Her breath was shallow and she staggered to stand.

She saw Arran battling Rogh, and Arran fought hard. The light from his necklace helped him counter the sword attacks by Rogh. But it was clear Arran was weakened.

Sylve was going to help Arran but she fell on the ground and coughed up blood.

"Lady Sylve!" a follower ran to her. With the death of Nerra, her knives had disappeared too.

Sylve looked up to the one follower. "Valis, my faithful friend, Valis. Is everyone—?" She could not continue her question.

Valis, the follower, nodded in grief. "Everyone else has fallen in battle, Lady Sylve. I am the only one left. They have all fought bravely."

"I have to help Arran," Sylve forced herself to stand up.

Valis held her. "No, you have to go back into the castle to heal. You are in no shape to fight Rogh now!"

"But Arran—" Sylve wanted to cry, her body shook hard and more blood came out of her mouth. Her face turned so pale her veins, bluish-red-purple, were shown below the skin.

Valis, who was also injured, stared at the battle happening about 20 meters from them."Arran has to do by himself for now, Lady Sylve. We are no good in helping him now. We gather our strength and help him soon."

Sylve, half losing her consciousness already, was then lifted on her arms by Valis, and the two women staggered into the castle—to Charlotte who had been witnessing the whole thing with tears that she had wiped many times because she knew, crying would not help Arran now.

When they got back to the castle, Valis fainted from her own injuries. Sylve refused to sit down and rest, she stood next to Charlotte, breathing heavily and bleeding from her nose. Both watched the battle between Rogh and Arran outside.

"You love him truly, don't you?" suddenly Sylve asked Charlotte.

Charlotte bit her lips, tightened her grab of immora, and nodded without taking her eyes off Arran."Yes, Sylve. I do—"

"The tragic thing is that we do have immora, such powerful weapon with us. But we cannot do anything to ... to help Arran," Sylve shivered and she bowed her head down as she fought to withstand more pain.

Charlotte heard Sylve's words, her brain began to process the meaning.

"I hav-have to go out to-to help ... my grandson," Sylve started limping toward the door.

Charlotte looked at immora, such dark weapon, but she beat it. She beat immora ...

"Sylve, no, no, do not go!" she chased after Sylve.

"I have to, I'd rather be the one dying in battling Rogh than watch Arran fight Rogh and die, Charlotte."

Charlotte remembered Dad and his words. Her good ol' Dad. His words repeated over and over again now in her mind.

"Immora will help him."

"That-that ... We do not have power over immora. No, Charlotte, that will not work—"

"It will, Sylve. I remember my father said that weapons are only as good as their handlers. The ones who wield them. They can be for good, for guarding or protecting, or for bad, for robbing and killing. He said it, and it makes sense, Sylve."

Rogh roared outside, Sylve opened the door and they rushed out. They saw Arran float a few inches from the ground, his arms outstretched, and the dark energy of Rogh wrapped him like a black cloth wrapping a body, the glow of his sun pendant became dimmer and dimmer.

"No, no! Arran!" Sylve screamed.

Charlotte knew, the time was now to use immora. Though she did not know exactly how.