"That is not what you should be talking about," Seraphina said, her eyes narrowed with clear anger.
"Can't you control your power, Arthur?" Dómvalka complained, her own eyes narrowed and flashing with irritation.
Arthur stood up, brushing the dust from his clothes where Seraphina's attack had struck him. Seraphina immediately rushed to Seiichi's side, crouching beside him. "It's alright now," she comforted him in a gentle voice.
She took his left arm, which had been completely erased from existence by the power Arthur had inadvertently released. Placing her hand over the empty space where his limb should have been, a soft, pale white light emanated from her palm. The light swirled and solidified, instantly restoring Seiichi's arm as if it had never been harmed.
Arthur peered over and remarked, "Wow. As expected of you. Your power hasn't weakened at all over time."
With Seiichi fully healed, Seraphina slowly rose to her feet. Her expression darkened. She clenched her fist so tightly that her knuckles turned bone-white.
She turned and drove her fist straight into Arthur's face. The punch landed with such colossal force that visible shockwaves rippled out from the point of impact.
Arthur did not so much as stagger, his body absorbing the immense force of the blow. Yet, despite absorbing the impact, a wave of pain still resonated through his entire frame.
"Ouch," he grunted.
Seraphina pulled her hand back. Arthur's face remained unmarked, bearing no sign of the powerful strike.
Arthur was an Apostle, a being renowned for a body capable of absorbing massive amounts of damage. At will, they could convert absorbed damage into healing or channel it to amplify their own attacks. There was no limit to the damage they could store; they could stockpile it to unleash in a single cataclysmic moment or mete it out gradually, with complete control over its use.
Arthur began to clap slowly. "I have to admit, your physical power is as formidable as ever, perhaps even stronger," he complimented. After a few seconds, he stopped.
"It is not the time for jokes," Dómvalka interjected, her voice returning to its usual calm but retaining an edge of steel. "Look around you. You would have destroyed this entire realm if Seraphina had not stopped you."
"She is right," Seraphina added sharply. "You would have erased my son if I had not created a barrier to absorb most of your power."
Arthur looked between the two of them. "Well, I am sorry about that. I was truly exhausted."
Neither Seraphina nor Dómvalka bought his excuse; they knew the kind of man he was all too well.
By now, Lumine and Azariel had recovered. Seiichi, thanks to Seraphina, was physically whole, though he still felt lingering tremors from the experience. Iris stayed diligently at his side, using her own healing magic to soothe his remaining distress.
Before anyone could speak further, a new voice cut through the tension. It was the voice of a child. A boy walked out from behind Arthur and stopped in front of him. He had bright yellow hair and matching yellow eyes, appearing to be around Seiichi's age, perhaps a year older. Even in his youth, his features were strikingly handsome, the kind of face that could captivate admirers of any age.
"What is going on here?" the boy asked.
Seraphina and Dómvalka's eyes widened slightly in surprise as they took in the young stranger.
"Who is he?" Dómvalka asked, pointing toward the boy.
"This is my son, Aron. He is not my biological son; I adopted him. I found him on the streets, and he seemed… interesting, so I took him in. He was already an orphan," Arthur explained.
"I see," Seraphina and Dómvalka said in unison.
Seraphina's eyes glowed faintly for a brief moment as she assessed the boy. "I can see he is not an Apostle, a demon, or an angel like us."
"Intelligent and elegant as always," Arthur said with a nod. "You are correct. He is a vampire."
Lumine, Azariel, Seiichi, Iris, Dómvalka, and Seraphina all reacted with slight surprise.
"I see. So he is from a forgotten race," Seraphina observed.
"You are right," Arthur confirmed.
The term "forgotten race" described a race that had gone extinct, was on the brink of extinction, or whose presence had grown so faint that the world often overlooked them. The vampire race was one such forgotten race, having nearly vanished nine hundred years prior.
Vampires were a race powerful enough to rival demons, angels, and Apostles. They possessed unparalleled regenerative abilities, capable of instantly healing both body and soul. They were immortal like their celestial counterparts, and possessed a unique predatory power: by consuming even an atom of an enemy's blood or flesh, they could copy any and all of their abilities.
"Well, knowing you, you must be having trouble raising a child," Seraphina teased, a hint of her earlier anger giving way to familiar ribbing. "You have no experience, and coupled with your notoriously lazy personality…"
"Well, that is partly true," Arthur admitted with a shrug. "But it is not as hard as it seems. I am getting the hang of it."
As they spoke, the distinct sound of approaching footsteps echoed on the cobblestones. Everyone turned toward the source of the sound.
An elderly man was walking toward them. He had a full head of white hair and a deeply wrinkled face. He wore the simple robes of a priest, and his body was so thin the bones of his hands were starkly visible against his parchment-like skin.
"Well, well," he said in a raspy, aged voice. "Is today's ceremony not especially significant? I welcome the two Demi-gods, and the Demi-god candidate, to today's Vow Ceremony." The old man bowed his head slightly in a gesture of deep respect.