*Starting Scene*

Somewhere along the canyon's elongated path, the elderly lady known as Janet steers her duo horse-driven carriage while heading in the opposite direction from where the Saints Organization's facility that was invaded by Dante and company is located, still dressed in her country-styled outfit with a somewhat cheerful behavior present. The reason for this is because of her having come across Dante's group travelling not too far from the headquarter's collapsed wall during her idle wandering that has no obvious basis of why she's even doing it and was glad they had made such progress since their separation at Wukong Village. Not only that, Janet, being the kindhearted woman she is, offered them transportation to Velkry considering how hurt they all were, especially Trace who was and continues to be unconscious as he was being carried on Dante's back at the time.

Now, as the entire terrain has become blanketed by a cloud-filled night, the quintet are in the carriage after six hours had passed with Trace sleeping on his right side near the far back while his back's against the wooden divider between Janet and the five friends. It's quickly notable that Trace's wounds have been wrapped up by white bandages that the grey-haired lady had stored in a first aid kit, however, most of them aren't too visible thanks to Yuki fixing his clothing, complements of her Restoration Spell. At the same time, Sano's also getting some sleep as he's sitting at the right section of the carriage in a carefree manner with his head resting on his left shoulder while poised near Trace's feet. Directly across from the golden-eyed teen, Yuki does the same thing, having her left leg stretched over the right one so no one can see up her skirt, and is toward Dante's left. In the Velkry Spellcaster's case, Ilya's seated on Dante's right with a dirty look aimed at the blonde as she's partially curled into a ball, her body clearly bandaged like Trace and has received equal treatment to her previously battered clothing, while both arms are interlocked beneath her legs for the exact reason Yuki's legs are crossed.

Dante, not bothering to even glance at Ilya, examines the carriage's ceiling via a blank expression as the damage done to his wardrobe is also gone with no lingering blood anywhere and currently has his right knee elevated so the arm belonging to that same side can be mounted upon it while his left foot's stretched outward.

Ilya keeps on giving Dante the dirty look, beginning to make a low groaning sound, while leaning towards the green-eyed young man with about a foot of space left as both hands are planted on the wood-based floor.

Dante's apparently oblivious to what Ilya's doing and simply blinks randomly during his analysis of the ceiling.

Getting quite annoyed, Ilya grits her teeth with the volume to her groaning increasing to gain Dante's attention as a furious aura emanates and narrows the gap by a few more inches.

Dante unexpectedly yawns while temporarily shutting his eyes before returning his concentration to the ceiling in a content way.

With her tolerance folding to her overwhelming annoyance, Ilya angrily yells without consideration for the others, "How long do you plan to ignore me?!"

Yuki, Trace and Sano flinch due to being disturbed by Ilya's outburst, however, manage to stay asleep while Janet curiously peeks toward her right so the elderly dame could investigate the commotion.

Dante straightens his head's position to set his sights on Ilya as he gives off an indifferent personality, gradually raises his now gloveless right hand up and then places it over the hazel-eyed beauty's mouth prior to bringing his left index finger toward his own mouth while whispering, "Shush. You'll wake them up."

Ilya slaps Dante's hand off via her right hand and puts the appendage back down while remaining angry as she lowers her voice, "Well, if you stopped ignoring me, I wouldn't have to yell! When we finally caught up to you, I asked you what you were thinking, but you blew me off and just kept walking with Trace on your back! Dante, you want me to trust you, right?!"

Dante folds his arms together, briefly revealing that his left hand isn't wearing God's Power Glove, before nonchalantly nodding. "Yup."

Ilya firmly states, having reduced the hyperventilation she was showing, with another inch vanishing between Dante and her, "Then you need to start telling me things. Like, about your past, what are your true intentions and why do you have a grudge against the Saints Organization." The accessory-wearing girl shifts her head to the right and drops it a tad while uttering in a sad tone, "Are you... Are you only using us to achieve your-" Ilya abruptly remembers her conversation with Yuki, forcing her to halt what she was about to ask, as the stressed teenager bites her bottom lip while faintly trembling.

Dante watches Ilya for several seconds without talking until sympathetically smiling, removes his right hand from his left arm to extend it toward the white-haired chick and gently taps her left cheek with his index finger.

Ilya snaps her focus to Dante as she's overrun by bewilderment and doesn't say anything at all.

Dante maintains his right hand on Ilya's cheek, having begun to caress it compassionately, while speaking in a wholehearted tone, "I'll tell you and the others everything when we get home, but for now, I'll tell you this much. I won't ever sacrifice you or anyone who I consider my friend." The blonde pulls his hand away from Ilya's face to put it back atop his knee and focuses on the area ahead of himself. "That's why I'm going to take complete responsibility for what's likely to happen next and make it better. I promise." Dante looks at Ilya out of the corner of his eyes. "So, no more doubt, okay? You're trust is one of the most important things I want in my life. I'd hate to lose it."

Ilya stays quiet as she's at awe and then happily grins with relief mixed in while grabbing the gold pendant hanging from the dame's neck via her right hand. "Okay."

Pleased by what she witnessed, Janet veers her concentration back to the path while overflowing delight with her eyes glistening and thinks, "Those two young'uns are so precious! I hope they get hitched in the future and I'm alive to see it!" She closes her eyes before weaving her body left and right in a joyful manner.

Hearing Janet's thoughts, Dante switches his attention to the driver with an inquisitive attitude as he simplistically thinks, "Hitched?" The green-eyed gentleman reverts his gaze to Ilya, who had took the liberty to stare out the oval-shaped opening while no longer troubled as the moon shines through the clouds sufficiently to hit her whole being perfectly, and smirks via his head slanted to the left a bit.

*Scene Change*

Inside a mountainous landscape that's mixed with a rocky terrain at the lower areas from where several mountains are assorted throughout, a terrifying battlefield comes to focus within the daytime rays, one day after the conclusion of Dante's intrusion of the Saints Organization headquarters, as mutilated corpses are everywhere while it's notable that many have the same black/white attire and masks that the Saints Organization associates tend to wear. Not only them, there are countless men dressed in chainmail or banded grey armor with matching battle helmets that have lost their lives while heavily-stained by blood. Among the dead, resides a lone, big, white tent that has been splattered quite a bit with blood, however, managed to remain up unlike the multiple others nearby as a distraught cry unexpectedly reverberates about twelve meters away from the cloth-based structure.

Soon after, another armored corpse joins the countless others via a horrendous collision with the formidable ground that oddly caused less damage to it than the one who flung said person. At the same time, seeing the death of an ally, a decently-injured, slim, Caucasian male dress in the same type of armor scurries backward due to currently sitting on his ass while gawking at something with an immense stature that effortlessly shadows the scared man as he desperately pleads via his right hand directed forth, "No, don't kill me! I didn't even want to be here! I was forced to partake in this! Plea-!"

A gigantic, deeply-tanned, left hand ensnares the helpless person's head, engulfing it completely without problem, and brings his frantic body into the air while a somewhat demonic, masculine voice utters, "If you wish to repent, then death is your best option. That is what anyone aiding the Einsburn Family deserves."

The helmet-wearing Spellcaster squirms within that giant appendage to break his entrapment as he's greatly in trouble of running out of oxygen and claws at the limb.

Meanwhile, casually sitting on a pile of chainmail-clad dead bodies stationed to the armored Einsburn Family affiliate's left, an Asian-looking man temporarily observes what's happening, having his legs crossed while both knees are faintly raised to rest his arms on top of his lap with both hand's fingers intertwined, and is sporting a brown martial arts jumpsuit that contains sufficient space for his body to breathe despite how most of it is covered. Concerning his physical aspects, the jumpsuit-endowed gentleman appears to be in his late 20s, has short, spiky green hair around his head, light skin on his fairly toned being, stands somewhere around 6'1", greenish/brown shoes and red eyes. Not even a second later, the spiky-haired guy blurts out in urgency as he appeared to have zoned out for an instance, "Hold on!"

Unfortunately, it was too late for the armored captive because of a sudden squeezing from the large hand, which made the head explode blood, while his entire body tensed up prior to slumping with no motion whatsoever.

The red-eyed adult cocks his head to the right and exhibits a disapproving expression. "Dang, Mammoth... You went and killed the sniveling rat." He straightens his head with a scrutinizing glare. "Did you forget we needed to let one live to get intel out of him? Even though you're the oldest, sometimes I debate about if you're the wisest."

With that said, the identity of the individual who just killed the pleading man is revealed as an eight-foot-tall male owning a profoundly muscular build, the same red eyes like his sibling and green hair, however, his is an extremely raised pompadour that makes him appear to be almost nine feet in height. He's wearing torn khaki pants, having some brown streaks included, because of his massive size, green getas and a blackish/green shirt that's pressed upon his rough skin while looking to be in his mid 30s. Right after that, Mammoth heartlessly throws the deceased onto the ground before confronting his younger brother and lowers his left hand with a stern demeanor. "Salamander..." The pompadour Asian motions his head to the right while slightly turning it. "Look over there and then make your judgment of my intellect, would you?"

Instead of Salamander verifying Mammoth's words, someone else comes to view and calmly walks toward the body-filled section the tanned gentleman advised from the further region that's closer to the tent to check. During said person's travel, it's displayed that the one investigating is another Asian-looking man, who's not much older than Salamander, while having a greenish/brown ninja suit on but without the matching headgear to allow his attractive facial features to be seen, a green undershirt that can be noted thanks to the sizable v-neck owned by the outer layer of clothing, brown boots that go appropriately with his outfit, short, wavy, green hair and a slender body. Eventually, after inspecting the numerous corpses, the ninja-wannabe finds someone containing a dark complexion continuing to draw breath inside a heap of deceased people with even several of them being those dressed in priest clothes. With his discovery, the wavy-haired male pushes every lifeless body out of the way to ensure that their source of information keeps living until choosing to leave the armored survivor alone and faces the two behind him while his red eyes resonate amusement. "He's alive. You owe him an apology, Sal." He cackles a tad.

Salamander glares at his fellow Asian, emitting an aggravated scowl, while having straightened his head not long ago. "Screw that, Wing! If anything, that guy's lucky to have any life in him!" The light-skinned person looks to his left with contempt as he mutters in the middle of pouting, "I was pretty sure they were all dead, though... I don't get it..." Salamander suddenly notices a brownish/grey pigeon flying high above the tent and heads toward all three of them while the jumpsuit-wearing male inquires in a curious manner, "Hey, isn't that one of yours, Wing?"

Wing steers his attention to the aerial creature as a calm attitude establishes itself. "Yes. Something must have happened back home. I left that single pigeon outside to keep watch from the right side of our domain's defense wall since there's no way to enter from the other end, except climbing over the canyon."

Salamander resets his vision upon Wing and gives out a discriminating expression. "Who the blazes were you saying that for? We obviously already know how cautious you are. Don't do something as redundant as point out a known fact. Makes you look stupid."

Ignoring Salamander's words, Wing lets the small animal land on his right shoulder as it communicates with the man dressed like a ninja via cooing sounds. Concurrently, the red-eyed lad nods accordingly with what the pigeon's telling him in a very natural method. "Uh-huh. Yes. Is that so? Positive? Of course, why would you lie to me?"

Salamander's behavior turns bland, slouching forward a bit without deviating his focus from Wing, and gingerly murmurs, "You need to get yourself some friends. Out of all seven of us, you're the most passionate in talking to your animals."

While Wing converses with the pigeon, Mammoth faces towards the attractive man and is displaying an indifferent personality. "What is it saying, Wing?"

Wing immediately brings his concentration to Mammoth as he states in a straightforward manner, "Our home was attacked, older brother. Five culprits were involved and everyone was either defeated or killed."

Shock appears on Salamander's face prior to shouting from anger, "Bullshit! Five Spellcasters took down thousands of Saints and our siblings?!"

Wing briefly shakes his head while locking eyes with Salamander as the pigeon atop his shoulder keeps speaking to him. "No, it seems that two of them didn't have any magic. My feathery friend here says that the one who caused the most destruction was a dark blonde-haired human and wore gloves."

Mammoth interjects himself into the conversation more, not demonstrating too much concern. "Dante Einsburn."

Salamander snaps his gaze to Mammoth without moving his head and is fairly surprised in addition to being angry. "You mean the outcast?! Why would he...?!"

Mammoth plainly responds as he sustains his vision onto Wing. "I have a good guess what his motivation is. Who were the other four, Wing?"

Wing lightly shrugs so the aerial creature wouldn't be deterred from staying on his shoulder. "Not sure. As soon as they entered the main building, all means to find out anything about them left because of it going into lock-down."

Unprecedentedly, the armored survivor speaks in an arrogant way as if he wasn't hurt at all while remaining where Wing found him. "Allow me to include myself, if you would? I think I have information that definitely you three could take benefit from. That's the reason you wanted to keep this body alive, correct?"

All three brothers switch their attention to the injured man and are quite interested in what he has to divulge while uncertain about the last part that he said.

The bloodstained gentleman smiles with his dull eyes staring at Mammoth, Wing and Salamander like an individual who's life has been completely drained. "There's talk that a blonde has been seen accompanied by a white-haired girl with gold accessories roughly two months ago. They, over their travels during that timespan, seem to have made themselves a few friends and are rumored to be behind Enshin's disappearance."

Wing folds his arms together while permitting some bewilderment to arise. "You're referring to Enshin Billiard, the leader of Enshin's Disciples? A man who was said to give Class A Spellcasters or higher a run for their money. They're the same ones responsible, you say?"

Mammoth sternly nods with his eyesight glued upon the armored male, having turned to properly confront the downed adversary. "I can believe it as long as it is Dante. After all, his own family is hunting him down for multiple reasons that have yet to be revealed to us." The gigantic individual puts both hands into his pants' pockets. "You wish to tell us where he is presently calling home? That way we could take the appropriate procedures to distribute punishment for anyone aiding the one who caused our family such great dishonor and punish him as well."

The extremely wounded Spellcaster snickers as he leisurely blinks. "Sure, I have no problem. You'll be doing us a huge favor. Now, we aren't fully certain, but what we do know is that Velkry was supposedly asked for assistance from Icela's king to fight off Enshin's Disciples who were the most likely to try to siege that country in general. We already had took ownership of their Spellcasters and put them within our ranks, so they were no longer any use to us, hence why we could care less what happens to that frozen wasteland."

Salamander becomes a bit skeptical and leans to his left to get a better look at the bloodstained person since Mammoth's sort of in his way. "Seriously? Doesn't the Einsburn Family have a Treaty with Velkry? How could you be so willing to rat them out like that?"

The armored adult snickers again. "As I previously mentioned, you'll be doing us a huge favor. Wholeheartedly, like many towns and cities the Saints Organization have under its thumb, there are some places we would rather not care for. Better yet, we would be happy to see that so called HOLY SANCTUARY'S utter destruction, but our hands are tied enough with just fighting you lot."

Mammoth acknowledges what he heard via a sharp nod before navigating his focus to Wing. "Go inside and contact the Grand Elder through the Warp Communicator Item he gave to us. We will be on our way to Velkry to apply punishment since we are already in Raivel. The three of us should suffice."

Mild worry emanates out of Wing as he gestures his left hand forth with his palm aimed skyward. "I don't doubt that at all, but do you think we could afford to leave the battle at this very moment?" The red-eyed younger brother drops his lifted appendage to his side. "We should simply notify the Grand Elder and let him send someone else. He'd probably have his five elites go to implement God's wrath."

Salamander, maintaining his slanted pose, rest his concentration upon Mammoth while decently calm. "I got to agree. All of our forces here are dead and we at least have to await back-up or the Einsburns will claim Raivel in its entirety. It's already pretty bad we only have Ferdan, most of Castelo and a handful of towns in Raivel at our control. We're in desperate need to gain more territory so we could better compete with the four continents the Einsburn Family and Trailblaze have."

Wing directs a mellow glare towards Salamander and faintly grovels, "And you criticized me about stating something we all already know..."

Just when Mammoth was going to rebuttal to Salamander's point, the downed Spellcaster cuts in with his arrogance increasing. "You're concerned over the wrong thing. No matter what, you can't hope to defeat us. Take that into careful thought and save yourselves any agony that's headed to you by merely walking away."

Salamander reverts his attention to the blood-covered man and radiates a furious demeanor. "You want to die?! Keep your trap shut if you know what's good for you!"

The helmet-wearing gentleman tauntingly replies after letting a boasting laugh while his arrogant personality climb higher. "Oh, how ignorant! You all haven't figured it out yet! I'm not the initial owner of this body! I'm just using it to talk to you!" He laughs maniacally this time and commandeers his focus onto Mammoth. "You actually killed this pawn an hour ago!"

All three siblings are momentarily dumbfounded until Salamander sits upright to point his right index finger at Mammoth and proudly yells, "Told you!"

Wing narrows his eyes prior to firmly looking towards Salamander. "Wait a second, Sal. He could be lying to trick us."

Mammoth bluntly intervenes as he glances at Wing out of the corner of his eyes. "No, he isn't. I honestly thought I killed him earlier, however, noted that he somehow managed to survive despite my mercilessness. That explains it, perfectly. I'm the one who should apologize for mistaking that my intent was so weak."

Wing gawks at Mammoth dishearteningly, barely slumping to the left. "Please, tell me you're joking..." The wavy-haired face-palms via his right hand after closing his eyes and repairing his posture as the pigeon mournfully coos since it knows that Wing has become sad. "Obviously, you aren't. I can't remember the last time you even made a joke. You're a Mr. Serious-And-Down-To-Business kind of guy."

Salamander rest his right arm back atop his lap with content brimming. "Apology accepted! Everyone makes mistakes, unless they're me!" He does a quick fist-pump utilizing his left hand that he recently decided to remove from his lap and then directs his focus to Wing with a snobbish grin. "I knew I was right!"

Wing sighs, rolls his eyes a tad and shakes his head before lowering his vision to the ground near his feet.

Mammoth refocuses on the talking corpse while a hint of intrigue comes forth, however, maintains most of his solemn composure. "That being the case, where is the real you?"

The armored man's manipulator smugly smiles from where he's stationed, which is somewhere with an average-sized tree that the male is using to rest his back against while sitting down on grass via a leg stacked on top of the other, as his physical characteristics are hidden by the shade provided from the structure and even masks what he's wearing. "Nowhere near you, that's for sure!" He snickers once more as the unknown individual joins his hands together to mount them atop his folded limbs while soothing his voice so he can speak in a well-mannered style. "Oh, and don't stress out about leaving the battlefield unattended. We'd gladly agree to a ceasefire since you'll be doing our dirty work. That ought to put your mind at ease."

Salamander roughly plants his hands onto his knees, fiercely staring at the bloodstained body in a contorted pose again, and fervently shouts, "Like we'd believe you!"

The manipulator's a tad surprised by the unprecedented outburst. "Really?" He then talks in a sinister way with a zealous personality as he slants his head back. "How about this?! I'll swear by Desmond's honor that I won't betray my words! That's a promise!"

All three brothers are abruptly bewildered while not uttering a single comment until Mammoth questions in such a menacing manner that it effortlessly sends chills down Wing and Salamander's spine, "Is Desmond with you?"

The manipulator scoffs with his head down prior to nonchalantly retorting. "I don't know, perhaps."

A moment of silence engulfs the mountainous terrain, forcing caution to arise from Wing and Salamander as they simply observe their elder brother. Less than a minute later, Mammoth turns to the left to face away from the controlled corpse while emanating a horrifying amount of magic, starts walking toward the tent and coldly remarks, "Fine, then. I accept your offer for a ceasefire."

Salamander, having hastily sit upright to follow Mammoth's departure, earnestly argues with his sibling's decision. "What?! Just because he dropped Desmond's name, you're so fast to agreeing?! Where's the logic in that?!"

Without diverting his gaze from where he's headed, Mammoth rebuttals in a laid-back way while passing Wing's right side. "Indeed. I have fought Desmond three times, and despite my losing each of those encounters, I know how much his honor means to him. We have just been given an ironclad promise, so we now may do what we must to instill punishment to those who caused our family shame." The pompadour-endowed Spellcaster soon arrives at the white tent as he says in a somewhat determined manner before entering, "I will speak to the Grand Elder myself and insist on this! I, the eldest son and head of the Wilde Family, won't accept anything less!" Mammoth instantly disappears into the tent with nothing else said.

Having seen Mammoth leave via his head turned to his right, which caused the pigeon to switch over onto his left shoulder, Wing establishes his attention back toward the manipulated person and is about to asks something but discovers that the possessor had abandoned the lifeless being since it's currently slack-jawed while not breathing even a little. After that, the ninja wannabe calmly looks at Salamander with a sense of defeat dwelling inside. "Guess there's no helping it, Sal." Wing veers himself to the tent's direction to commence walking. "Let's go get ready."

Salamander cringes out of frustration as he momentarily closes his eyes with a depressed groan. "Okay..." The jumpsuit-wearing gentleman rises to his feet while patting off any dust on him and checks the area to his right. "I'll catch up. I got to get Slithers together. They should be raring to go by now. There'll be plenty of nutrition in Velkry." Salamander swiftly goes in the direction he's focused on while not minding the corpses beneath his feet, nor those he comes across.

In the meantime, roughly half a mile in the direction Salamander's headed, someone wearing a white cloak had been watching the discussion between the Wilde Family members and whoever was possessing the corpse while poised at the heart of a fairly large mountain within that vicinity as the mysterious person stands at the end of a path that circles around the massive sierra. Not long after that, the observer speaks in a male voice with his right hand hovering above his eyebrows so he can sustain his gaze upon Salamander while amazingly able to hear and sees the green-haired lad talking to himself via great detail, even though he's so far away, "This is awful..." He puts his hand down as it's demonstrated that the individual is Cassius and is emitting an upset composition with his left hand clutching at his Longsword's handle. "That bastard Dante! I swear if this brings ruin to Velkry, I'll kill him!" The white-haired man turns to his right while easing the rage building inside of him. "I have to report to the Royal Council without delay." Cassius aims both hands at his midsection, which involved releasing his hold on the lengthy weapon, and hurriedly commands, "Teleport!" He instantaneously disappears without a trace.

Elsewhere, the manipulator's hidden residence gains the main attention now, still blotted by the tree's shade, while gradually laughing louder and louder. This leads to the unknown man to separate his hands so he can tap his legs a few times excitedly prior to boasting in a stuck-up manner and plants both appendages back upon his legs. "What a bunch of idiots! Like you have any honor at all! So much for knowing you!" He navigates his head to the left to peer behind himself, revealing his mesmerizing grayish/purple eyes, with a maniacal smile. "Ain't that the truth, Desmond?!"

As that inquiry was uttered, it's revealed that there's another tree in addition to the one utilized by the manipulator while approximately three meters apart so both could perfectly carry an end belonging to a red hammock with iron cords. Within the levitated blanket that's lightly swaying side to side, a rugged, muscular man who seems to be 6'6" tall with short, combed-back, sleek, blonde hair is casually lying via both hands placed behind his head, having his left leg draped over his right knee, and appears to be taking a nap while the upper half of his body is nearby his comrade's position. During his slumber, the adult referred to being Desmond is wearing crimson-colored shorts that narrowly fall over his knees, black shoes and a black t-shirt with intricate, crimson lettering that says "Bow To The Embodiment Of Armor" from top to bottom.

The shadowed figure snickers out of amusement with his vision continuing to be fixed on Desmond and brings down his voice's volume. "Still catching some Zs, eh? That's understandable." The sinister associate checks the area surrounding them as it's displayed that only the small patch of land they're located on has grass due to everything else in a five-mile-radius has been desolated and rendered into a desert-like landscape with the two trees used for Desmond's hammock being all that remains of a vast forest which formerly represented the whole region affected. "Wiping this place clean all by yourself deserves a rest, although I know you used only a fraction of your full strength."

Desmond suddenly states in a relaxed way after opening his dull, green eyes to stare at the thick assortment of leaves and branches above him, "Then you should quiet down and let me sleep. It's very annoying to hear someone talk amidst my dreaming, Fredrick Oliver."

Fredrick snaps his head to gaze forward, showing some nervousness in his voice while apologetically saying, "F-Forgive me, Lord Desmond. I-I was under the assumption that you're a deep sleeper." The manipulator regains his bearings to politely request, "Also, please don't say my full name so loosely. It's kind of a pet peeve I have."

Desmond, neglecting the last thing Fredrick said, replies with no real change to his demeanor. "That's actually true... When I'm completely asleep... But I haven't been able to stay that way for a while now." Aggravation takes over his expression while passionately talking. "I'm beyond discontent! I have these dreams of an exhilarating battle, and yet, no one has given me that!"

Fredrick arrogantly smirks while slightly reverting his concentration to Desmond. "What about Mammoth? He's the one man who's fought you in three occasions and survived. Sure, he hasn't come close to beating you, however, his perseverance is admirable to say the least."

Desmond demonstrates an disinterested personality and comments without batting an eye, "Against popular belief, Mammoth's merely alive because of my lack of wanting to end his life. Don't get me wrong. I can't ignore his capabilities and he always eludes my destructive power unlike the pitiful army I took down twenty minutes ago." He takes a instance to mentally debate over things and then shrugs. "That won't do it for me though. Surviving's easy. Anyone can survive with enough determination. Overcoming's where you divide the men from the boys. There's only been one time that I felt someone truly close to making me sweat."

Fredrick asks without hesitation as his smirk faded, "Kai?"

Desmond immediately answers via a sheepish smile. "Oh, Kai could definitely kill me if he wanted. Part of the reason I don't bother fighting him. I learned my lesson when I challenged him five years ago. Worst idea ever. What I experienced that day was more like humiliation than anything. It wasn't what I've been searching for whatsoever."

Fredrick begins exhibiting curiosity until an eager look appears with a light grin. "How about Dante? Hmm?"

Desmond veers his eyesight to the hidden man by mildly tilting his head backwards while suspicion surfaces. "You mean my cousin? Why bring him up out of the blue, Fredrick Oliver? There aren't any solid leads to where he is, so..."

A knowing attitude overtakes Fredrick, trying to brush off the mentioning of his full name for the second time as he vaguely cringes, and briefly snickers. "You've missed out on some important details during your sleep. You want me to fill you in?"

Desmond shuts his eyes before straightening his head. "No, since it wouldn't do me any good. I'm the Commanding Officer of War and my continuous presence in battles like these is extremely important. I can't afford getting sidetrack, especially by Dante. Anyhow, I'm confident he can't ever hope to measure up to my incredible might." The rugged Einsburn Family member chuckles proudly. "That's how it is."

*Scene Change*

At Velkry, the Royal Council are inside the safety of their mansion as they have recently been given the information gathered by Cassius, who's doing his best to exhibit a polite decorum in their presence with his left appendage gripping on the Longsword, however, is experiencing excessive anxiety within himself.

Miro, sitting where he normally does, repetitively shakes his left leg out of irritation while almost manically tapping all of his fingers upon the throne's armrest with his vision zoomed on Cassius and is trying to not allow his emotions to display themselves. "You see?" The turquoise-eyed adult hammers his right hand onto the armrest after quickly clenching it into a fist, having detained the constant tapping concerning both appendages, and navigates his focus to the left so he could shout at Adalia in an upset way as his posture's mildly contorted forward, "You see?! I suspected that brat being nothing but trouble and you did not listen to me! Just because he's that man's son!" Miro strikes the armrest for a second time with ferocity exploding. "You have ruined us!"

Adalia confronts Miro without getting up from her throne, her hands mounted on the armrests for support, and sternly retorts as she restrains herself the most she can. "You would know, wouldn't you?! If memory serves, that's your middle name for numerous reasons! And in what way have I or Dante brought ruin to us?!" The busty council member draws her right hand toward herself to swiftly swing outward while powerfully stating, "Sooner or later, we intended on fighting them, the Einsburns and Trailblaze Organization for full independence!" Adalia thrusts her right hand upon the same armrest where her left hand's stationed. "What difference is there, honestly?!"

Miro promptly answers as his patience had long surpassed its limit while inching his body closer to Adalia. "The difference is that we are not ready yet! Have you forgotten the reason we have welcomed outsiders who are Class S Spellcasters or why we are STILL searching for such individuals?!" The grey-haired man feverishly gestures his body a little, continuing to remain seated in the process. "When Velkry was attacked by whoever wielded Lucifer's gloves, there was another who took advantage of the chaos he was creating and made it their goal to annihilate our Class S Spellcasters! That included your own father!"

Adalia doesn't respond due to the mentioning of her father, Ester, and commences to emit a hint of dread as she merely watches Miro.

Miro persists his explanation, devoid of sympathy for the severely delicate and personal topic he brushed on for Adalia. "That day, we lost a valued councilman, five of our renowned Class S Spellcasters and you had to rise up to a status that we are all aware you never desire, but it was for this city you did that! The Holy Sanctuary you, your mother who died of a broken heart shortly after and your valiant father loved! Get your priorities in order!"

Adalia's passionate behavior is re-exhilarated by Miro's outburst while instantly getting to her feet with both hands clenched into fist after locating them on opposing sides of her being as she keeps facing the uniformed elder. "My priorities are in order, Miro! Like anyone else, Dante officially became a member of Velkry! His battles are our battles! My late father taught me to never abandon my friends and I rather be crucified by the Saints before I ever even begin to contemplate doing a cowardly act like that!" She takes a step towards Miro and leans forward to firmly place her right hand on his left shoulder as her blue eyes glimmer from determination. "If I have to do it all by myself, then fine! I'll accept that!"

Miro's totally stunned as he stares into Adalia's eyes with his back against the throne, having positioned his hand arm atop his lap.

Slate, choosing wisely to bide his time since intervening in the middle of Adalia and Miro's argument would have done more harm than good, locks his gaze upon Cassius while asking in a serious tone, "Who will take part in the invasion and how long do you believe we have?"

Cassius looks at Slate with a shocked demeanor after witnessing the heated, verbal dispute that occurred until regaining his bearings to politely say, "As of right now, it appears that the three eldest sons of the Wilde Family will be the ones, and unless they use the Teleportation Spell, it should be a few days at the least, Lord Slate."

Slate murmurs to himself while deviating his vision to the right and taps the tip of his chin via his left index finger as the dark-skinned gentleman's right appendage is draped over his throne's armrest, "The Wilde Family has never been good at learning the Teleportation Spell. They're more prone to knowing Speed and Strengthening." Slate returns his concentration to Cassius prior to lowering his left hand on top of the momentarily vacant armrest and says in a commanding voice, "Cassius, you will first notify all of our Class S Spellcasters still in Velkry and the civilians of what's going to happen! After that, use your Teleportation Spell to bring back Faulch from his mission! Everyone needs to be present for the defense of our sanctuary!" Tenacity joins his seriousness as he slightly drops his head with his attention staying fixed on Cassius. "Lives will not be unnecessarily lost this time! We cannot change the course of how things are going now, but we will certainly come out victorious!"

Cassius acknowledges Slate's orders and sharply nods before turning away to run toward the wall's opening so the hazel-eyed male could quickly start doing the task he was given as the brick structure slowly closes.

Seeing Cassius leave, Slate veers his focus to his fellow Royal Council, who both are observing the bearded person with awe, while questioning in a cynical manner, "You two already cooled off?"

Adalia, standing upright to face towards Slate with a halfhearted smile, as the brown-haired woman says apologetically, "I'm sorry. I got a bit carried away."

Slate shuts his eyes and shakes his head in understanding. "Do not torment yourself over it, Adalia." He gives the gorgeous dame a sincere grin after reopening his eyes. "You are your father's daughter. I actually like it when you're so resolved about your beliefs."

Miro crosses his arms while exhibiting displeasure as his gaze remains on Slate. "Tsk! You are the only one!" The sleek-haired adult turns his head toward his left to no longer make eye contact with anyone. "I detested how Ester always seemed to contradict me in such a relaxed way, almost like nothing that concerned me had relevance!"

Adalia confronts Miro again, however, with a caring attitude brimming this time. "Not at all. My father took great attention to every plight or worry you had and wanted to ease them out of your mind. A man of your age cannot handle too much stress after all, even back then." The bracelet-wearing lady giggles playfully.

Miro groans a tad until shifting his eyesight to both Slate and Adalia via meager turning of his head as a stern composition shows itself. "Despite Cassius' report, do you honestly think the Saints Organization will leave to just three of their members?"

Adalia becomes quite sad while heading back to her throne. "I don't like to say it, however, our track record with an attack involving minuscule numbers from the enemy isn't something to be proud about." The busty female sits down with her attention back to Miro. "You spoke of it a minute ago. Many lives were lost because of just two men, both being apparent rouges at the time. It's unfortunate we never found solid evidence of who sent them, although we can comfortably assume the Einsburns had some sort of involvement. Really, we should be very worried if it's three this time by that logic."

Slate adds with a somber tone, "Let us not forget that we already experience a loss of a Class S Spellcaster in Zack. That dampens things, however, there are eleven..." He corrects himself for some reason with a brief squint of the eyes. "No, ten Class S Spellcasters in all in spite of our fronting."

Miro complains out of aggravation as his attention's mainly on Slate, "Two more than fifteen years ago, and once more, that is counting us in. Unfortunately, we are not supposed to leave here, so drop it to seven, which is very little improvement. In actuality, the ratio is to their favor if we compare to the past."

Adalia gets upset and glares at Miro. "Will you really make the same mistake from back then?! Had you and Slate assisted, things may have not resulted so terribly! My father would likely still be alive!"

Miro rebuttals while expelling an immense amount of rage with his person rotated nearly in a 90 degree angle toward Adalia. "He would still be alive if he had not disregarded the rules we are supposed to abide by and maintain ourselves hidden for the greater good of Velkry! Someone must remain in the end to rebuild from the loss we'll surely endure!"

Adalia fervently shakes her head as she can't help getting closer to Miro to make her point impossible to ignore. "That's the exact reason my father didn't simply sit here and accept the perishing of many lives! Doing nothing is the same thing as abandoning! It's wrong! He didn't care about your so called GREATER GOOD if it meant that and neither do I!"

Miro coldly yells without a shred of compassion, "In that case, go follow Ester's footsteps! You said you would do it all by yourself, so join our Spellcasters out of your own volition! Just do not expect I nor Slate's assistance!"

Adalia's baffled by Miro's declaration while pulling away from the turquoise-eyed individual and then directs her concentration to Slate with concern displayed as she softly inquires, "Slate?"

Slate temporarily locks eyes with Adalia, emanating a detached expression, prior to changing his focus to stare ahead while refusing to say anything.

Adalia pauses for a moment, absorbing the lack of communication from Slate, until properly sitting within her throne as she's also staring forth and solemnly states, "Alright. That's precisely what I'll do."

*Scene Cuts To Black*

To Be Continued...