Chapter 16:
Devourer of the Sun
"Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong, between whose endless jar justice resides, should lose their names, and so should justice too. Then everything includes itself in power, power into will, will into appetite; and appetite, an universal wolf, so doubly seconded with will and power, must make perforce an universal prey and at last eat up himself."
- William Shakespeare
"I said it before, didn't I? Have you forgotten already?" I grab for Dragon Slayer, and force it the rest of the way in. The great sword was buried deeply into my chest. "This story will not end in a tragedy! It will be your ascension!"
I do not flinch, as I feel my soul leave my body.
"Arlan!" Dragon Slayer couldn't stop it. I wouldn't let it. The eater of souls desperately trying to pull away, but his master would not let him. Guts had been overtaken. The hell hound was in control. "Why aren't you doing anything?"
There was only one way I could
save him. I had to confront The Beast of Darkness. I couldn't remove the
Brand of Sacrifice before. I had to do it this time. I had to perform another miracle.
I needed to be as close as I could be. I needed to be part of The Black Swordsman.
It was this plane. Slan, The Mistress of Debauchery, ruled over it as an extension of herself. This realm was called the
Garden of Gash. Where pain and pleasure became indistinguishable from each other. Where apostles violated all who entered, and corrupted them in every kind of way imaginable. Where people would forget themselves in ecstasy, and revel in the sacrilege.
All taboos were relished, and the most disgusting forms of love were on display. If you could even call it "love" to begin with.
I wouldn't.
The mangy mutt had more power here than it had anywhere else. This close to one of The Godhand? It was practically a demon lord.
Where had everything gone wrong? Perhaps it was my arrogance.
My crusaders did not give in. They fought on even as I met the hell hound on the battlefield. When Guts had been driven into insanity by that sow, and taken over by the parasite. I did not account for it, but I had to deal with it.
Otherwise, this war would end before it could truly begin.
<<X>>
"A way to reach Slan?" The Skull Knight gave me a curious glance. "A behelit could help, and I have a few on hand." However, I could hear a measure of reproach in his tone. "It would be unwise. I have tried it before. You need something that resonates with that member of The Godhand you're trying to contact. In this case I would recommend an effigy of a goddess of fertility."
I had a few ideas already. Nocticula would be perfect. Despite being a demon lord? They had similar domains.
Though
Our Lady in Shadow had class. There was a sophistication to her seduction. Slan was just a loose louse who spread her legs for any ravenous fiend, or contemptible rapist. One of them had standards for their paramours. The other engaged in orgies with the whole neighborhood.
"Are you certain about this, Arlan?" The wraith looked at me again. "If you enter her layer of the Abyss? The Sword of Actuation can only bring back a few of your crusaders. The rift it creates simply isn't able to accommodate a whole army." He grips the reins on his horse. "If you do not win? There will be no coming back."
It would be a death sentence for all of my crusaders. This would be the case even for the angels. That, or they would be corrupted by her apostles.
They knew all of that already though. It was a sacrifice they were
willing to make. Just like the angels who sacrificed themselves to become the Wardstones that protected Mendev.
"I believe in my crusaders." I believed in my brothers and sisters. "They will not fail." I believed in my friends.
"..." Gaiseric does not speak for quite some time. "Very well." He turns around to leave, and make his preparations. "Prepare your army, Arlan. I will return in a fortnight."
Two weeks. That's all I had to spare. I immediately think of Guts.
Regill would meet The Black Swordsman.
<<X>>
"Who is the dwarf?" Guts made his a mistake already. He doesn't even have any time to react before a hammer smacks against the back of his head. He clutches the back of his head in pain. It hit him hard enough to draw blood, but not enough to break anything vital. That would have been
counterproductive.
There in my throne room? The Black Swordsman nursed the bruise on his head. Glaring at the gnome that hit him. Before snorting as if unimpressed.
"My name is Regill! Paralictor of The Order of the Godclaw!" The gnome frowns in distaste looking at The Black Swordsman.
"I am no dwarf. I am a gnome if you must know, and I will be your teacher." He has a vicious grin. "I will be making you into a respectable Hellknight! Just like The Knight Commander!"
"No thanks. I'm good." Guts immediately turns around to leave, but I quickly move to block him. "I already know how to fight. I don't need any help."
"This isn't
optional, Guts. There is a lot of potential for growth, and I will not have you waste it." I crack my knuckles. Then I approach him. "Any attempts to leave will be met by yours truly. I promise."
Guts grumbles at that. He hasn't forgotten that out of the sixty-four
encounters we had? He had won none of them. That didn't stop him from bringing Dragon Slayer to bare.
I didn't need to do anything though. Regill already disarmed him before I had a chance to. The gnome practically flew through the air, and used his gnome hooked hammer to send the great sword flying out of his hands. It pierced into the ceiling of my throne room.
"That wasn't my idea! No need to take it out on the great sword!" Dragon Slayer complained before quieting down.
"It is as The Knight Commander said. This is not optional." Regill circles around The Black Swordsman. Examining every detail he could see. "I can
see it just like he can. There is much more that you could be."
"Yeah, yeah! I hear it from him all of the time!" The Black Swordsman scrunches his face in annoyance. "I don't need to hear it from somebody else too. I don't even know what a Hellknight is supposed to be."
"A Hellknight is discipline personified! He is the sword and the shield! His heart cannot be swayed by emotion! His mission is always clear!" As if to punctuate it? The gnome slams his hammer against the ground, and the earth begins to shake. "He does not break formation! He does not yield! His loyalty to the cause is absolute! He is duty made manifest!"
Guts flinches at that. He wasn't used to seeing this kind of
passion in anyone.
"What can they actually do though?" While the gnome continued his oration? Guts reached for Dragon Slayer in the ceiling, and hefted it onto his shoulders.
"What the situation requires of them, but..." Regill begins to focus. "...they are driven by the force of their will. Which becomes somewhat tangible. It manifests in a way that is not dissimilar to magic, and many of us have patron deities. In particular we are hardy, and become one with our armor. In a way just like you have." He gestures towards the Berserker Armor. "It is called
Infernal Armor, and through it we become a bulwark. Practically immune to fire and all magic associated with it, extremely resistant to anything arctic, and able to weather the effects of corrosive acid. Our very presence exudes an
Aura of Law, which protects both ourselves and our allies, and it is the bane of demons. Whose domain is in chaos. On that note we can also perform a variation of
Smite not unlike a paladin, and burn away at all things that hail from the putrid Abyss. We can make use of
Detect Chaos to rout any demons in disguise. As well as grant any weapon in our hands an enchantment. Usually axiomatic in nature. However, unholy and flaming burst are also known to be used. The list goes on, and we have access to a myriad of
Disciplines. Which grant us a set of magical abilities geared towards hunting demons, or apostles as you call them."
Guts actually looks interested when he hears that.
"Guess I wasn't the only one who declared war against them..." He whispers to himself. "Alright, I will try my best."
"No, you were not." Regill is able to hear it anyway. "I don't want you to try your best. I want you to meet my
expectations." He lifts his hammer. "Every time you do not? I will have you lashed."
The Black Swordsman recognized it immediately. "Are all of you like Arlan?"
"It would be more accurate to say I am like Regill." I interject. "He is the one who helped me become a Hellknight, after all. He may be one of my subordinates, but he was also my teacher." The most
reliable of my companions at that. There is no betrayal or cowardice in a Hellknight. Only loyalty, and obedience. Provided that you stay true to their cause.
They would follow you into the bottomless pit, and not hesitate for a moment to throw away their lives. All for their duty. All for the mission. Practicality always. Sentimentality never.
They were considered to be anti-social by many as a result, and in worst case scenarios they were dismissed as murderously insane zealots. That's not exactly wrong but
oversimplifications are a detriment to us all.
"I will begin your re-education today." Regill starts to speak again. He nods towards his perspective apprentice. "This will be an assessment of what you can do, and from this I will determine what is in need of improvement."
Guts grins at that. He
knew what they meant. They would have a fight. He takes another stance, and prepares Dragon Slayer.
"Come at me with everything you have, or I will put you down myself!" Regill hefts his hammer.
I make sure to give them some room, and turn around to leave.
"Just don't leave the whole place in shambles! I happen to like it!"
That request of mine would go unheeded.
<<X>>
The days began to pass, and I could feel it. A sense of anticipation. It might even have been excitement. I
enjoyed this just like Caelum Vorlesh, my brother, had said.
"A warmonger regardless of where you are." However, the shadow did not say it as a form of derision anymore. He had come to accept it wholly. "At least the cause is a respectable one."
"It
always is, brother." I look at the ceiling of my bedroom. Iomedae by my bedside. Bereft of any clothing, and covered in sweat from our foray in the morning. It started in the bathtub. Then continued to the royal bedchambers. There was a pleased expression on her face. I wonder what she was dreaming of.
"A shame she can't fix all our problems." The shadow rises from the ground, and sits at the end of the bed. "I always despised them all."
The gods and goddesses. Their inaction. Their cosmic bureaucracy and red tape. Do away with all of that, and how much could they accomplish?
"It is beyond her. All of the power in the world, and she can't even use it." I shake my head. "That is why I will never become like them. I wouldn't be able to stand it."
I could do it. I could take up the challenge. The Test of the Starstone. I could
become a god.
"
Pointless. After all, you're already almost a god as is. The difference is that you can act as a mortal. That gives you freedom." The necromancer gives the sleeping goddess a dirty look.
"A
slave to a cosmic hierarchy that makes no sense. That is what they become by throwing away their mortality."
"I don't think you need to tell her that." I get up from my bed, and begin to dress. "Are you ready to fight another demon lord?" I ask the shadow.
"As ready as I ever will be. The question is whether your crusaders are..."
I pause at that. How many of them will die?
"Too many." The shadow put words to it. The fear that I felt. Not for myself but for those in my care. "Too many will die before this war comes to an end."
"..." In that I moment I understood him. His desire to spurn death, and bring an end to mortality for us all. "As always."
"Don't let Pharasma catch you thinking about something like that. The last time she caught me I ended up at the very bottom of the Abyss being eaten alive by demons." I could feel it almost as if I was him. All of that hatred. The pain.
It was beyond unbearable.
"If the Abyss is ever destroyed..." The shadow looks at the goddess again. "...how will you
sate your desire for war?"
It goes unspoken but it was clear. If I did succeed? I would have nothing, and what exactly would it take? In order to turn my attention towards
everything else.
"It's not going to happen. Stop wishing for it." I adjust my clothing.
"I will die just like any mortal. That will be the end of it." I give him an annoyed glance.
"I wonder about that. Just a little bit." The shadow begins to disappear. "A lot of things can change. Maybe even
you can."
Those treasonous whispers in my ear. He really did not want to give up.
"I'm fine just the way I am."
<<X>>
The day had come.
The Skull Knight had returned. A behelit in hand, and I had already etched the marking into the ground. The symbol of a demon lord that held the same domain as Slan
. I just hope Nocticula wouldn't get annoyed by this. I didn't need to fight her.
I had assembled the mortals of the Kushan Empire.
My Kushan Empire. I had to remind myself. They stood beside the angels of The Hand, and they were ready to march into the Abyss. They had been equipped for the occasion. Hanarr had kept himself busy. He had forged a bastard sword for Casca. Which I decided to christen as
Dawnbreaker. I did make some modifications. In order to make it fit for a paladin. I had granted it the grace of a celestial. A divine aura which hungered to destroy demons and devils alike. The holy blade would become their bane.
However, I decided to keep her from this battle. The young woman hadn't completed her training underneath Iomedae.
What surprised me was that Hanarr had somehow found a way to mass produce the material Frostbite was made out of. Mithril was now available at the forge. Which meant it was also available for my crusaders. After that, I had spared no expense in expanding it. The forge was beneath my palace. Protected by an assortment of wards. In a grand underground cavern surrounded by havoc dragons. Which also served as a place of retreat for the citizens in case Arlan's Way ever fell under siege.
The reinforcements from Elysium made it easy to build quickly. It could fit thousands of people easily, and even my army. Which now, including the soldiers of the Kushan Empire, had numbers that were nearing a hundred thousand.
"This is when we shall truly begin to strike back against The Godhand! They were learn what mistake they made when they played with the lives of mortals!" I rode in on a horse made out of sturdy gravel. A golem that would not fail. "It is on this day that they learn that we are no longer their prey! No, instead we shall be the hunters!" I slam my fist against my chest. As if to punctuate my statement. "It is fear they will know today! It is pain that shall be delivered to them!" I raise my bastard sword towards the roof of the cavern. Frostbite seems to almost glisten in the glow of the luminescent mushrooms underground. "Most importantly of all! They will answer for their crimes! They will know the fury! They will know the bite of justice!"
It was then that my crusaders began to cheer. Somehow even the soldiers that had belonged to the Kushan Empire understood exactly what I said. Which to be perfectly honest was because I may have added a bit of
magic to my declaration.
I turn towards the behelit. Which was placed on an altar directly over the sigil. I gathered the magical energies around it, and began to channel them.
Guts stood. Prepared in a way he never was before. The Berserker Armor having become a second skin. Which was obviously the result of mastering
Infernal Armor. Even Dragon Slayer felt different. In addition to Grunbeld who now resided inside of the blade? It was wrapped in law. I could feel the power reverberating around them. An aura that was not there before, and which sheltered everyone around The Black Swordsman in axiomatic protection.
I decided to leave the rest of my party, except for Guts of course, in Arlan's Way. Primarily because some of my crusaders had to be left behind to protect the city, and I needed them to lead the citizens to safety in case of an emergency. There were a few complaints, but I silenced them.
"Regill had an impact it seems." I address The Black Swordsman. There was confidence before but now I could feel focus. That was very good. He would need that clarity. "That's excellent."
"I lost count of the times he almost burned me alive! I thought I was going to die!" Guts sounded bemused instead of being angry like his words would suggest. There was a note of
respect in his tone. "If he was your friend? I would
hate to have seen your enemies."
"They also had a habit of becoming my friends. The line blurs sometimes." I smile at him for just a moment. Then I look back at the altar. "Prepare yourselves! The gate is about to open, and once we enter there will be no return until we collect the head of a demon lord!" I point my blade at the rift as it begins to tear at the fabric of reality. "I expect all of you to murder countless scores of these demons! Those blades you have are hungry for their blood! They are a gift from our resident dwarf! Do thank him by relieving these monsters of their lives!"
Glory would await many of them, and death would be the price for others.
None of them would be forgotten.
<<X>>
Which brings us back to this:
Dragon Slayer having had impaled me.
The battle was in our favor. At least at first. The angels unleashed a
Storm of Justice that rained down heavenly fire. Which disintegrated many of their number. The planet we were on, this Garden of Gash, had to be teeming with demons. The Godhand had a limited influence outside of the Abyss. However, inside of it was a different story altogether.
After the initial assault we charged towards the capital. Where Slan was waiting.
That is where things took a turn for the worst. Guts began to act strangely, and I realized too late that through the
Brand of Sacrifice? Slan had somehow taken hold of the hell hound.
Which became even worse when I realized that this realm had turned what was once a greater demon into something almost like a demon lord. A few of my soldiers died to him, and even a couple angels.
I didn't have time to mourn for them, and I imagine that Guts would have problems with it himself.
I had died but for someone like myself it wasn't a problem. In fact, I had
planned on dying.
If Guts is reading my memoir to you at this moment he will probably say I am lying. Do not listen to him. He is a charlatan. Trust in your flawless Knight Commander, my crusaders.
I had transferred my soul into his body through Dragon Slayer. Using a variation of
Death Interrupted. Whilst my body burned to a crisp. When the hell hound figured out how to use the spirit of Grunbeld, and then combined that with those black flames from before? It made short work of my corpse.
"I expected his soul to be a mess, but this is something else." As far as I could see there was only a void, and in that void was an inferno of burning hatred. Throughout his life there was only pain. A series of tragedies. That stacked on top of each other, and contributed to the hell hound.
However, there was one memory. Buried deeply within him. The moment of his conception. A birth that came from--
"Death." The shadow is there with me. "He was born of death." He frowns. "I know it well." He looks around the expanse. This primordial nothing that had no end. "A fluke."
"No, it is a miracle." I am quick to correct him. This was something special. "Quite the desire to live." I couldn't hide it. I felt an admiration for The Black Swordsman.
"Only for his life to be fraught with betrayal." The shadow notices another memory. "A lot of it in fact."
"
Gambino." I whisper the name. "It's a shame I couldn't flay him alive." I would have enjoyed it. Possibly a bit too much.
"Shisu, Guts.
Remember Shisu." I wade through them. His mother. Not by blood but instead by choice. It was completely unconditional. Pure.
In that moment, I am reminded of my mother.
That is when I slam into something.
"A gate?" I turn to look at it. It was hard to see in this darkness. "A door?"
"No." Caelum Vorlesh sounded unnerved. "It's much worse than that." He shakes his head. "It was
definitely not a miracle."
As I become accustomed to the darkness? I could see it clearly. There were intricate carvings. A wolf that looked like it was about to gorge itself on a star. As well as a language I could not understand. "What tongue is this--"
"Elder Furthark." The shadow backs away from it. I ignore his concern. "It is a language that should be dead."
That is when I
see it. That
Brand of Sacrifice was hovering in front of it. Probably to serve as a ward. The glyph wasn't there before. It was as if it kept whatever was on the other side locked away. There were chains holding it in place. They were wrapped around the gate.
"Ah, so that's why I couldn't remove it!" I quickly grab hold of them. I pull at them. However, they wouldn't budge. I grumble, and quickly cast
Rage. No, still nothing. I frown. Alright, no holding back!
I quickly use
Conduit Surge, and cast
Transformation. As magical energy floods into my being? I could feel my body reverberate with ethereal power.
"Wait, don't!" The shadow just figured it out. However, it was too late.
I break the chains.
<<X>>
The Mistress of Debauchery barely had time to react. It came as a sense of foreboding. Which for someone like her always meant something. The Godhand? They all had a measure of prescience, and could even control probability to an extent. It made it impossible for mortals to act against them. So naturally, the existence of yours truly concerned them.
They could not control my destiny.
"This isn't The Beast of Darkness." Slan scrunches her face in confusion. "What did he do?" What had I unleashed within The Black Swordsman?
That is when the entirety of the Garden of Gash begins to crumble. Before a monstrous
howl is heard across the globe. The planet cracks as if struck by an asteroid, and in that moment a claw cleaved it in twain.
Those claws did not belong to a dog. It was--
<<X>>
"A wolf."
I barely manage to say the words before before the gate is destroyed. In the maw of the creature I could see the hell hound. It was so massive that even that Beast of Darkness was but a morsel in those jaws. It bites down tearing the hell hound in half, and what remains falls into the darkness.
"Thank you? I guess." The wolf had to be the size of a mountain. "That mangy mutt was giving a friend of mine trouble. Anyway, I have to go now--"
"ᚹᚺᚨᛏ ᛁᛊ ᛁᛟᚢᚱ ᚾᚨᛗᛖ?" I didn't understand that. "ᛞᛁᛞ ᛁᛟᚢ ᚠᚱᛖᛖ ᛗᛖ?" No, I didn't get any of that either.
"He is asking who you are, and if you freed him." The shadow cautiously approaches us from behind. "ᛗᛁ ᛒᚱᛟᚦᛖᚱ ᚠᚱᛖᛖᛞ ᛁᛟᚢ, ᚠᛖᚾᚱᛁᚱ." He gestures towards me.
"When did you learn Elder Furthark?" I frown, but quickly regain my composure.
"When I was doing research on deities of distant realms besides Golarion. Strange though. I thought he would use Younger Furthark. That has more in common with Old Norse." The shadow bows before the deity.
"Wait just a moment." I was beginning to connect the dots. Old Norse. A giant wolf that was locked away. Then something that has to do with the sun. "Fenrir. Why is he
even here?"
"Good question, but I imagine it has something to do with how Guts was born. Also, as for your thoughts on the sun? There are several different accounts. Some say he devoured the sun, along with the moon, and others say it was his children who did it instead. I will ask him." The shadow addresses the giant wolf again. "ᚠᛖᚾᚱᛁᚱ! ᛗᛁ ᛒᚱᛟᚦᛖᚱ ᛁᛊ ᚲᚢᚱᛁᛟᚢᛊ. ᛞᛁᛞ ᛁᛟᚢ ᛖᚨᛏ ᚦᛖ ᛊᚢᚾ, ᛟᚱ ᚹᚨᛊ ᛁᛏ ᛁᛟᚢᚱ ᛊᛟᚾ?"
I would have to learn the language myself.
"ᛁ ᚺᚨᚹᛖ ᛟᚾᛚᛁ ᛟᚾᛖ ᚲᚺᛁᛚᛞ, ᚨᚾᛞ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚲᚢᚱᛊᛖᛞ ᛏᛟ ᛚᛁᚹᛖ ᚹᛁᚦᛁᚾ ᚺᛁᛗ. ᛁᛏ ᚹᚨᛊ ᛁ ᚹᚺᛟ ᚨᛏᛖ ᚦᛖ ᛊᚢᚾ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛗᛟᛟᚾ!" I had to cover my ears. The booming of his voice nearly ruptured my ear drums.
"He says that he has no children. I guess that part was just a myth." The shadow folds his arms over his chest, but I had the feeling that he was hiding something.
"Oh, really?" That's when a devious idea began to sprout. "Can he do it again?" Which quickly became machiavellian.
The shadow gives me a look that practically screamed: "Are you serious?"
I just smiled back at him, and he immediately realized that it meant: "Yes, I am."
I couldn't wait to see the look on Slan's face.
<<X>>
"My mistress! There is a problem!" A wretched imp crawled towards his demon lord. "The sun! It is--"
"Gone! I know!" Her eye twitches in annoyance. As she began to tear at the tentacles that might as well have been her hair. Arlan Vorlesh! It just had to be him! At least that's what she is thought, and she wasn't entirely wrong.
I did have help though.
That is when the rest of the celestial bodies in her realm began to twinkle before abruptly disappearing. An unnatural darkness enveloping the only planet left. The Garden of Gash would be the last to fall.
I would make sure of it.
Personally.
<<X>>
"Well, if it isn't the most shameless whore in all of the realms!" I carried The Black Swordsman's unconscious body over my shoulder. After that stint he would be out of it for a while. "How are you enjoying
Ragnarok today?" I had used
Life Giver to grant myself another body to replace the one I lost.
Slan was uncharacteristically frustrated.
"Normally, and I do mean this as a compliment, I would find a person like you irresistible. Forbidden fruit is the most delectable. I might have even made you into one of my consorts. I think you would have enjoyed the orgies."
"No way, you god damn slut! I would have hated it!" The countenance I wore was crooked, and my sneer was genuine. "I already have the best woman in the world, and unlike you she doesn't have every venereal disease in the book!"
"Yes, it wouldn't have worked out." Slan frowns. "A fight it is?" The demon lord rises from her throne.
"A fight."
"You will just die."
I tilt my head. All of the humor disappearing.
"I am The Knight Commander of the Sixth Crusade, formerly The Knight Commander of the Fifth Crusade, and I have already seen to the death of two demon lords. You will be the third, but I promise that I won't remember you." It will just be another notch on my Belt of Discipline.
I gently lay Guts down onto the ground.
"I am sorry that I didn't see that coming." I whisper. The Black Swordsman had the blood of comrades on his hands. It wasn't his fault. It was mine for not taking The Beast of Darkness into account. "Feel free to blame your foolish Knight Commander."
Well, at least the hell hound paid for it. It was gone forever.
A wolf now lived within The Black Swordsman's soul.
I turn towards the demon lord, and the fabric of reality around her began to crack. Before bursting into pieces. This was her realm, after all. She controlled
every aspect of it, or whatever was left of it. It was a husk of what it once was.
The plane became a writhing pile of naked bodies as far as I could see. Her demons were preoccupied with my army, but I had her all to myself. They tore into each other. Biting, stabbing, violating every new orifice, and devouring each other. Yet, despite that they all shuddered in ecstasy. I glared at them all in disgust. They were people that gave themselves to Slan.
They weren't forced into this. They
chose this hell.
Which is why I didn't hesitate.
I make use of
Conduit Surge, and empower myself. Then I cast
Plague Storm, and a cloud crackling with jade electricity is conjured into being. It grows endlessly in this pocket universe, enveloping the souls given to Slan, and tearing through them. It was an unfamiliar pain that did not bring them pleasure like every other torture. It only made them feel agony. Then as their moans turned into screams? Their spectral bodies disintegrate.
"Those were all mine!" The demon lord looked positively furious.
"Oh, you mean these ones? These souls?" I grab the head of one of the few remaining stragglers, and crush it as effortlessly as I would an egg. "Darn it! I guess my hand slipped!" I give her an innocent look.
I was already prepared when the demon lord lost it, and wildly struck at where I had been only moments prior. I back-flip through the air, and then proceed to land on a platform I had fashioned.
Slan unfurled her wings, and their wingspan left behind a shadow that covered the earth below us. The demon lord rushes towards me. Her unnatural claws extending from her fingertips, and cutting through everything in their way. Almost like the Sword of Actuation? They left behind tears in the fabric of reality. I deftly avoid all of them. I knew I couldn't block them.
I call
Frostbite to my side, and grip the handle tightly when it flies into my hand. I channel the power of
Polar Midnight, and imbue it into the edge of the blade. It reached absolute zero, and then fell fall below it. Once again breaking many of the laws of physics. The bastard sword meets those claws, and instead of breaking? It
endures the assault.
"How?" There was no mortal that existed who could block this attack! No, not even The Skull Knight could do this! "Is it this sword--" The demon lord didn't have the time to be distracted.
It was in that moment that I struck. The bastard sword stopped only for an instant when clashing against an invisible barrier. A form of divine protection. Then it pushed through, and dug into The Mistress of Debauchery.
I had missed her heart, but I had stabbed the blade into one of her shoulders. I quickly pull it out, and with it the limb flew away from her body. I had taken an arm. I had taken
her arm.
"..." Slan looks down at the stump. It had frozen completely, and wasn't healing. There was no pain. Only an abject feeling of shock that made her choke. "A dream. Y-Yes, this is a dream." The demon lord was delirious. "This can't be real."
It had been hundreds of years since anyone had actually hurt her.
"It is no dream, Slan. I have come to make you answer for everything." How many people had she corrupted? How many men and women fell victim to her? How many children poisoned by her touch? Who were violated by her, and made to be like her? Broken beyond any repair? "In the end, there is no escaping what you are. It will come to claim you. When you're at your most vulnerable. When you are alone."
"A-Alone?" The word strikes a cord within her. "I am not alone! I have my consorts! I have my lovers! I have my children!" The demon lord shudders. There is
terror that grips her black heart. "They all love me! They're all just like me!"
I had cast
Frightful Aspect earlier as she was in shock. I became her worst fears. Her insatiable desire for companionship? This sow mistook lust for some kind of love. I felt pity in that moment. What life had she lived that she could not differentiate between the two of them?
"What a
miserable wretch you are. A sad lonely girl." Which quickly morphs into disgust again. "Mistress of Debauchery? More like The Mistress of Solitude!" I begin to laugh at her.
"Stop it! Stop laughing at me!" Her fear is buried underneath a rage that was monstrous. "What are you, Arlan? A mortal? You will grow old, and die just like all the rest of them! You will die and be forgotten!" Anything she could use against me she did, but that was her mistake for I had nothing to hide.
"I am!" I say it with pride. "I am just a mortal!" It's who I always will be. "All of my flaws to bare! All of my weaknesses as obvious as can be!" I nod my head. "There is one thing you're wrong about though. I
will be remembered." I point my bastard sword at her. "I can't say the same about you!"
The harlot screeches like a banshee, and the Garden of Gash bursts into pieces, the damage Fenrir had done already had destabilized it. In that moment, I make use of
Heroic Invocation, and my army holds fast. The power of the magic transforming them into something greater even as the planet explodes. I could not say the same for the apostles. They were either disintegrated by the explosion of the planet, or suffocated in the vacuum of outer space.
In the distance, I see it. What the demon lord had become in her madness. The seductive beauty had become a mass of writhing tentacles. Thousands of crimson eyes began to open. It could only be measured in light-years, and couldn't even fit inside of the solar system. The Garden of Gash was
nothing compared to this.
Whatever reason left her, and all that remained was an abomination.
"Just destroying you like this would be a mercy. It would be no punishment." I should have finished it before it came to this. Oh well, I had to do it anyway.
I clap my hands together, and draw on the ley-lines. Not just the ones in this plane, but in all of them surrounding this one.
Conduit Surge is ignited. I cast
Wail of the Banshee, and the monster's eyes pop out of their sockets. Black ichor fills the primordial void but the creature does not die. It pulls itself back together, and launches countless beams of brilliant crimson light that twist and turn throughout outer space. They chase after me, but I cast
Walk Through Space, and I phase through them like they are not even there.
The problem was the difference in scale. I decided to fix that.
When I cast
Legendary Proportions? I become a titan. A giant flying through the cosmos. I continue to grow until I even begin to rival the abomination in size. I grab one of the tentacles, and pull it towards me. That is when I pierce into it with my claws. My razor sharp nails, a testament to my status as a witch, tearing the beast to shreds. If it could scream?
It would have.
"Slan! This is the end!" I crackle with electricity, and in my current state as a colossal titan? The spell that I evoke approaches the realm of the divine.
Stormbolts becomes a cataclysmic big bang, that causes this universe to burst open like a ripe melon. The second coming of genesis at my fingertips.
The demon lord collapses in my hands. Disappearing into the void.
Just like all the rest would.
[] The shadow had a secret, and I planned on finding it out. It was time to learn Elder Furthark. What was Fenrir's connection to Guts? Who were they to each other? Why was Guts born from death?
[] It was time to celebrate! The world thinks I am some sort of monster, but now with Slan dead? I should have a chance at spreading my own kind of propaganda. The Godhand were weakened by this.