The only thing the Sealing Pike couldn’t contain was Will.

A material able to contain and seal a person’s Will would be too rare, and wasted on mere prison facilities.

Maybe if the trio were beings that wielded powers from the higher steps, the Guardians would’ve bothered to use specific Will-dealing methods.

But they hadn’t. And in doing so, they’d committed a grave mistake.

BANG!

Uriel’s Wood Will roared alongside his Sand Will, their cry shattering the flows of energy within the dungeon before collapsing into a composite of both wood and sand energy.

The currents of gold and emerald gathered and concentrated into a single lance that tore across the air to pierce into Kael’s wide-open face.

"ARGHHH!"

The spear of sand and wood aether didn’t stop after it pierced through the man’s head. Veins of gold snaked across Kael’s body and suddenly, his core was paralysed.

Simultaneously, vines tore out of his skin, his blood sputtering as they tightly wrapped around his body and locked him in place.

His core and body were immobilised, just like that.

SHOO!

The emerald-robed guardian, who’d lagged for a second in pure shock at the turn of events, couldn’t react in time as Uriel’s Dark Will descended.

Uriel tapped into the dark path of poison he’d learned during his battle with Miquella, his dark aether twisting into a potent toxin that froze the guardian in place, melting away all his aether receptors and shredding the energy tempered across his flesh.

The poison essentially undid any forgery Ascendance brought to the body. It was lethal.

SHOO!

The Guardian passed out, falling on his back as his mouth sputtered with blood.

"..."

Both Korynth and Samael were frozen in shock.

"Get... moving!"

Uriel groaned, nearly roaring, as his hands moved to grab the pike and push to extricate himself from it. His face twisted into a nasty scowl of agony, his orifices leaking with endless blood as he did so.

His fingers and hands slipped against the blood coating the metal, causing him to slide back down and impale himself further, widening the wound even more.

But eventually, he managed to fully push himself off the structure and, without any power left in his body, he limply fell to the ground, his half naked and bloodied body impacting against the cold stone.

The wound on his chest was truly ghastly. His lungs were torn apart, his hearts shredded, and his inner organs were all failing toward death.

The wound had to be the size of his head, if not larger. If it wasn’t for the evolution his body was undergoing—which still hadn’t finished—he would’ve most likely died, even with his body enhancements.

Uriel waved a hand and—

SHAH!

—a gust of aether gathered around Samael, twisting into runes that linked to form a formation that gently lifted him off his pike.

Light aether overflowed in Samael’s body as Uriel freed him, rapidly mending all his wounds. Unlike Uriel, Samael’s body could easily heal and thus reap the full benefits of light aether.

Samael landed on his feet, and the formation faded. He swayed slightly while still standing, the blood rushing back to his legs as he reoriented himself.

He’d been hanging from that thing for days already.

He was dazed for a moment, but the instant he regained his bearings, he rushed toward Uriel. Falling to his knees, he slid forward and pulled him into his arms, panic evident on his face.

"W-what’s—... are you okay? Your chest—..."

Suddenly remembering he too had been impaled, Samael looked down at his own chest, only to have his eyes widen as he saw his flesh writhing and mending itself, regenerating at a visible rate.

He could see his heart beating, his lungs expanding, and blood flowing.

But then he looked at Uriel.

"Your heart isn’t beating! Are you going to—"

Uriel shook his head. "No," he coughed out, a mouthful of blood spilling past his lips. "Not now, at least."

Uriel’s face paled further, and just as Samael was about to panic even more, he shook his head again. "There’s not much time."

"What’s the situation? Where are we? Why is she here?"

Samael clenched his jaw hard but didn’t protest. He rapidly began to explain.

"After your... thing happened, the lady you were with gave me your body and said you wouldn’t wake up for a while."

"After that, she disappeared, and I appeared in front of the inn. When we got there..." his gaze narrowed in fury.

"...she was at the reception as usual, and saw your dormant state. I knew she’d most likely try something, so I barricaded us in the suite for a month."

Uriel’s eyes widened. He’d been asleep for a month?

"But eventually she broke into the room and... I don’t really remember what happened next, but she said to that man that she took us here to—"

Uriel nodded. He already knew the rest.

’As expected.’

Though he hadn’t been awake, Uriel, through his Sin, could still remember what she’d said.

As long as he was somewhere, conscious or not, he would remember. At times, his Sin could be a blessing.

’Panaceas... that could be troublesome.’

He didn’t know what that was, but he could guess to some extent. There was something special about his body and soul.

He knew so in part because he’d noticed too many oddities with both—but mainly because of Miquella, or rather, Lucianna’s words about his blood.

By virtue of being Mother Hadith’s descendant, he was special. That might even be the source of his ridiculously deep talent when it came to aether.

"Listen, I need you to go and—"

"No!" Samael instantly refused. "You’re dying. If I leave you, you’ll be—"

"I’ve had worse happen to me. I’ll be fine."

"You have?!" Samael’s eyes widened.

"No, not really, but in spirit, I have." Uriel let out a weak chuckle. "Listen to me. I’ll be fine. What matters most is that you get to where your brother is."

Before he could protest, Uriel pressed on.

"I’ll draw a formation for you that’ll use the pike in her body—" he pointed at Korynth, and her eyes widened, "—as a tool you can use to suppress her. Use her to get to your brother. I’m sure she knows where he is."

"Once you get to him, wait for me for about five minutes. If I don’t appear by then, I’m dead, and if that’s the case—"

Samael’s eyes trembled.

"—I’ll have died in an explosion of sorts. I’ll blow my cores and create enough noise to cover you all so you can get to the spire, okay?"

Samael didn’t respond.

Uriel pulled him closer and looked him deep in the eye, the softness of his gaze vanishing to reflect a will of iron that did not break, bend, or falter.

The Will of a man who had challenged the skies—and won.

"I need to know if you can do this." His gaze blazed. "Can you do that?"

"I’ll try my best to stay alive, if you try your best to do that. How about that, hm? A promise for a promise?"

Uriel lightly patted his cheek. "Trust me."