"Fredric, head to the south entrance and say hello to the director for me," the king smiled with a hint of amusement. "Use whatever means you see fit to keep him far away from my district."

"Alright," Fredric replied in his usual carefree tone, his voice a casual contrast to the gravity of the order.

As they left the chapel together, Fredric and Zeke eventually parted ways. Zeke made a straight path for the Gun-Barrel, while Fredric ascended through the city, climbing to its topmost levels. His destination was a vantage point that overlooked the sprawling Undercity, where a massive pipe connected their world to the outside through intricate magic.

"It's time to greet our guests," Fredric remarked to himself, his eyes narrowing as the echo of footsteps resonated from the tunnel.

Suddenly, a barrage of bullets erupted from the darkness, whizzing toward him. Fredric raised his hand, and the bullets slowed, suspended mid-air in a graceful arc before him. With a flick of his wrist, the bullets reversed course, zipping back into the tunnel from where they had come. The passage briefly illuminated with golden light, the sounds of ricocheting bullets clattering off the walls.

"Soul," Fredric whispered, summoning his curved golden dagger.

Four figures emerged from the shadowed pipe, stepping into the light one by one. Dalas, the tallest, carried two heavy suitcases, his eyes cold with purpose. Viktor followed, his hands in his pockets, walking with the pride of a man who feared nothing. Arthur, his presence commanding, moved with quiet confidence, prepared to summon his weapon at any moment. Lastly came Joseph, the leader of the knights. A towering man in his late forties, Joseph was bald and broad-shouldered, his black skin gleaming under the flicker of ambient light. He wore a pristine white coat over armor that protected his shins, forearms, and chest.

"Trickster," Joseph said, addressing Fredric with a calm, measured tone.

"Is that what you call me?" Fredric chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Around here, I go by Fox, guardian of District 3."

"Team, prepare for battle," Dalas barked, pulling his suitcases forward as his expression hardened.

"Wait," Joseph commanded, raising his hand to halt them. "I'll handle him. You focus on the task at hand."

"Task? You can't mean the Gun-Barrel," Fredric giggled, his tone dripping with mockery.

Dalas swallowed hard, unease flickering in his eyes.

"You're an open book," Fredric laughed louder. "It's nestled in District 7, wedged between two buildings. But take it easy on the guardian there—he's rather weak, after all."

"Go!" Joseph barked, sending the knights sprinting off.

Fredric's laughter ceased abruptly. "I can't let you pass that easily," he said, his voice turning cold as he swung his golden dagger at Dalas, aiming to sever his head.

A golden force-field materialized around the group, deflecting the attack. The shield shattered upon impact, dissolving into shimmering fragments.

"Impressive," Joseph muttered.

"What did you expect?" Fredric teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Soul," Joseph called, summoning a white and gold spear with a sharp, flat tip that hummed with power.

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He lunged forward, striking at Fredric with incredible force. Fredric leaped into the air, evading the blow, and with fluid grace, he brought his blade down in an overhead strike, aiming directly for Joseph's head. Joseph spun his spear, blocking the attack just in time.

Fredric twisted mid-air, using the momentum to land a solid kick to Joseph's face, forcing him to stumble backward.

"We gathered plenty of intel on your activities," Joseph spat blood onto the ground, wiping his cheek. "But none of it suggested you were this strong."

"Oh, I'm not much of a fighter," Fredric sighed playfully. "This is just a task... and a favor, killing two birds with one stone, as they say."

Joseph formed a golden force-field, jagged and angular, pushing it toward Fredric like a battering ram. "You intend to keep me here, don't you?"

"Got me!" Fredric laughed, flipping gracefully through the air, dodging each of Joseph's spear thrusts with ease. He slashed at Joseph's face, leaving a shallow gash on his cheek.

Joseph touched his wound, smearing the blood with his fingers. "And the favor?"

"Telling your team where to find the Gun-Barrel and misleading them into thinking the Prowler is weak," Fredric could barely contain his laughter.

Joseph's eyes widened in realization. He snarled, summoning large yellow spikes from the ground, extending them toward Fredric.

Fredric danced away, his sword flashing in the dim light as he shattered the force-field spikes in one sweeping motion. "When it comes to melee combat," Fredric continued, "the Prowler is one of the strongest guardians."

Joseph's expression darkened. "I invoke!" he roared, enveloping himself in a blinding shroud of light.

The orb of light swelled to six meters in diameter before dissipating, revealing Joseph in his angelic form. His body was clad in golden armor adorned with white decorative ornaments. His helmet was long and narrow, forming a crown at the top, with several narrow slits at the front. From his back sprouted two majestic golden wings, gleaming with ethereal energy.

With a mighty swing of his gigantic spear, Joseph struck at Fredric, sending shockwaves through the cave. Fredric blocked the blow, but the force hurled him backward, slamming him into the cave wall. Dust billowed around him as he rose, brushing himself off with a sigh.

"I was told to keep things on equal ground," he muttered. "I invoke."

Golden rings exploded from Fredric's body, expanding and rotating at various speeds and angles. They formed a lotus-like structure, from which a golden demon emerged—6.5 meters tall, its body slender but rippling with strength. Clad in tight golden scales, the demon had a long, segmented tail ending in a three-petaled lily. Its digitigrade legs were muscular, covered with square scales that resembled armor. Its head bore sharp, human-like features, with large eyes, a bestial snout, and a fanged jaw. Two golden horns protruded from its head, curving slightly upward, while a thick red mane cascaded down to its waist. Behind the demon, the lotus continued to rotate, levitating with a hypnotic grace.

"Joseph!" Fredric's demon growled with excitement, its voice a guttural rumble.

Joseph charged, spear aimed at Fredric's chest. Just before the tip made contact, Fredric vanished, reappearing behind Joseph in a blink. He kicked Joseph, sending him crashing into a nearby building.

The city below erupted in chaos as the colossal angel crashed into the streets. Residents screamed, fleeing in panic, while the two titans squared off in their desolate playground of destruction.

"Is this really it?" Fredric mocked as Joseph struggled to his feet. "The might of the strongest knight?"

Anger surged through Joseph as he concentrated. Phantom spears, thousands of them, emerged from the buildings, roads, and rocks within a hundred-meter radius, all aimed at Fredric.

Fredric laughed maniacally as the spears converged on him. He vanished again, only to reappear before Joseph, his claws digging deep into the angel's golden chestplate. He tossed Joseph into the air, leaping after him with savage precision. Fredric's fanged jaws clamped down on Joseph's neck, his blade stabbing into the angel's chest, carving an incision. With a brutal swipe, Fredric tore open Joseph's armor, exposing the vulnerable human body within.

In a final move, Fredric ripped Joseph from his angelic form, sending the once-great knight crashing into unconsciousness as the divine light around him scattered into glowing particles.

For a moment, Fredric stood over Joseph's limp body, contemplating whether to finish him. But then, in the distance, his keen eyes caught sight of Haze causing a subtle disturbance in the forcefield. A hole, no larger than a coin, had appeared, and through it, Haze slipped away unnoticed.

"Crafty bugger," Fredric muttered, returning to his human form.

The city below lay silent, its stone streets stained with battle, as Fredric's laughter echoed through the air like the last breath of a dying storm.

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