The entire courtyard had been reduced to ruins. Flames ascended in great plumes, evaporating the water in the pool. Despite the frigid night, the warm steam rose like an unseen serpent, slithering and coiling around the people there.
On the outer perimeter, soldiers watched warily, fingers clenched around triggers, awaiting Arthur's command. Everyone waited for his directive, but his eyes were fixed on Eve, a maelstrom of emotions churning in his aged heart.
Arthur understood Lloyd's implication well. By the tracks, he was the cold decision-maker. Archbishop Lawrence's value was undeniable, and for whatever reason, he couldn't be spared. But the cost was his beloved daughter.
It was a cruel decision, one that shook even the iron-willed Arthur. In the ensuing silence, time seemed to slow. Lloyd observed the tormented man— a powerful duke and overseer of the Purification Agency. Arthur held the scepter of authority, yet now, his immense power seemed utterly impotent.
How tragic it was. He could command legions to storm cities and shatter fortresses, but he couldn't protect his daughter. Because of her, even his steel-like resolve had countless fissures. After all, Arthur was only human. Strip away his aura, and he was merely a man—a father.
Lloyd felt a wave of exhaustion. Gazing at Archbishop Lawrence, he couldn't deny it: the archbishop was right. Weapons should be like weapons—emotionless, disconnected, honing their edge to kill the target. No friends, no life, no attachments—thus, no weaknesses.
Arthur was formidable. Like the Stuart family, the Phoenix clan's history spanned the entire Glorious War. Each generation sent its young to battle, a tradition that continued long after the war ended. He could cut steel and command armies, but once he had a family and a daughter, even the hardest steel softened. And thus, he had a weakness.
Lloyd's fatigue mirrored Arthur's wavering stance. "We have no chance, Arthur. His power is foresight. He can see the future before you act. Nothing will work."
The elusive and treacherous Shandafon—their power activated with no physical sign, nearly undetectable. If not for Lloyd recalling that ancient title, they would remain in the dark.
"Mr. Holmes, have you ever made such a decision?" Arthur suddenly asked.
Lloyd nodded, expressionless. He had made that choice long ago, maintaining his sanity as he dealt with the last rogue demon hunters on that fateful ship.
Arthur's whispered response was barely audible. "I see."
"So, you've made a decision?" Archbishop Lawrence smiled, the broken sword pressed against Eve's chin. He cared not if they stalled or schemed. His power saw through it all. With his strength, those seconds were more than enough to kill everyone and vanish.
But Lloyd was the real challenge. With his impenetrable divine armor, he was hard to harm.
"Yes," Arthur's eyes sharpened as he walked towards Archbishop Lawrence.
"Are you going to give her up?" Lawrence's sword drew blood from Eve as it rose slightly.
"No, I propose an exchange. What do you think?" Arthur's suggestion shocked everyone.
"What are you doing!" Lloyd shouted, but Arthur ignored him, continuing, "I am Duke Evra Phoenix, current head of the Purification Agency, codename Arthur. My mind holds the key to important systems and secrets. Surely, I am more valuable."
Arthur raised his hands and stopped. The problem had another solution—one could face the oncoming train themselves, sacrificing only oneself. The demons would die, and Eve would live. A perfect story.

YOU ARE READING
The Divine Armor of the Old Century(Book 1)
FantasyThis is one heck of a Victorian-style fantasy novel. Add a spoonful of steam engines to make that darned technology tree come alive! Add a spoonful of love and hatred, so everyone has good reasons to brawl! Add a spoonful of madness to lighten up th...