Chapter 30: The Keeper's Gambit

Paris dusted off his robe, still disoriented from the surprise defeat.

Max's hand was extended toward him, a sign of mutual respect.

Paris, with a begrudging smile, accepted the handshake. The air was tense, not only from the battle but also from the weight of their unresolved conflict.

"Phew... A rematch when I'm stronger," Max said, his voice slightly winded. "I'll need that if I'm going to take on him."

Paris nodded, the smirk still on his lips. "It's not every day I'm bested by sheer cunning, Max.

 But you're right—I won't make the same mistake twice."

As the tension began to ease, Rex's voice interrupted. "Oi, Sir Max, we've got company. Looks like the Saints have moved faster than we thought."

Max's eyes darted toward the crypt's entrance. There, standing silhouetted against the blinding light outside, was the entire assembly of the Seven Saints—their expressions unreadable, weapons drawn.

The Sniper Saint still had his rifle slung across his back, his gaze piercing through the group.

"So, this is the demon who bested a Keeper?" The Thunder Saint chuckled, sparks crackling between his fingertips. "I expected more of a show."

Max, still fatigued from his fight with Paris, narrowed his eyes. "I see you've brought the whole circus with you this time."

Paris stepped forward, a solemn expression on his face. "The Seven Saints. It seems my loss has drawn the wrong kind of attention. Max, this fight isn't yours alone."

Max turned toward him. "Paris, stay out of this. I'll deal with them."

Before Paris could object, the Sniper Saint clicked his tongue, loading another bullet into his rifle. "I never miss twice, Demon Spawn."

Just as he aimed his rifle at Max's head, a loud crack echoed through the crypt. Time seemed to slow as a flash of silver streaked across the air, colliding with the bullet. Paris had thrown his blade with inhuman precision, deflecting the sniper's shot.

"Max, I owe you an apology, but this is far from over," Paris muttered, his voice suddenly serious. He turned toward the Seven Saints with an unreadable expression. "They're not here to merely capture you, Max. They're here to erase you."

The Sniper Saint clicked his tongue in annoyance, lowering his rifle but still keeping his eyes locked on Max. "You've got a big mouth for someone who just lost."

Paris raised his chin defiantly. "You saints should know better than to toy with demons."

Suddenly, a wave of suffocating energy filled the crypt, a pressure so intense that even Max struggled to breathe. The Saints stopped in their tracks, their confident grins faltering.

"Who dares disrupt the balance?"

A deep voice echoed from the shadows of the crypt. Emerging from the darkness was a figure none of them had expected—Pale. His calm and calculated demeanor was gone, replaced by an aura so powerful that the walls themselves seemed to hum with its intensity.

Paris's eyes widened, recognizing the shift. "Pale... What are you—"

But Pale was not the same. His gaze was locked on Max, his eyes glowing with a sinister light. "I've been watching long enough, Max. You've proven yourself. Now, it's my turn."

Without warning, Pale's entire form flickered, blurring with the raw power he had been concealing. The Seven Saints visibly tensed, their previous arrogance gone, replaced with genuine concern.

"You planned this... from the beginning," Max whispered, realization dawning on him.

Pale smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, Max. All this time, you've been a pawn in a much bigger game."

With a snap of his fingers, Pale's aura exploded outward, enveloping Max in a sphere of dark energy. The force was so overwhelming that Paris and the Seven Saints were forced back, struggling to stand their ground.

"You see, Max," Pale continued, his voice eerily calm, "the real reason for this fight was never to test your strength. It was to awaken the true power of the Heart of Altair within you."

Max's eyes widened in shock. He had heard rumors of the Heart, a forbidden relic that could rival even the gods, but he had never imagined that he would be its vessel.

As the energy around him swirled, Max tried to fight back, but it was too late. Pale's plan had already been set in motion. The Heart of Altair's power surged through him, consuming him from within.

"Now, Max, let's see if you can truly survive the gods."

The crypt was filled with a blinding light as Max's screams echoed through the walls, the energy transforming him into something beyond human. Pale watched in silence, his expression unreadable.

Behind him, the Seven Saints and Paris stood frozen, helpless to intervene as the true battle—the one they had all unknowingly been part of—was finally revealed.