1120 Battle of the Academies [8]
“Am I supposed to be scared?”
“Not really,” he puffed, “-what you do is your business. I’m but a whimsical man who sees life for what it is,” an unsympathetic look landed upon her complex expression, “-and yours, at the moment, means nothing.”
‘Wait a minute,’ something felt wrong, ‘-did I miss what he said?’ a deep thunder rocked her core, the sensation resounded throughout her bones to skin, “-did you say married to Luna?”
“You heard correctly,” he flicked the cigarette, it bounced and rolled to her feet. She followed the object, and once she looked up, the throne waited emptily, ‘-where did he?’ she glanced sideways, but nothing, the effort needed against the pressure imposed on her prostrated posture was tight. Despite the predicament, a blindness of self-confidence, the lack of self-awareness triggered an illusionary state, in her, in her little world, the throne room was within her palm. It visualized as so, her pulling Igna’s string from the distance – the power and comfort – a shuffle shattered much of what she saw.
“Behind,” he said, pulling back her head, “-I must say, you created such an elaborate scheme. You don’t realize the situation, get your head straight.’ Her bubble burst, leaving the grim reality at her feet, ‘-what is this… Lilith is alive… the contract’s active, and my plan’s foiled. Wasn’t he fooled, did I not get one over the Devil?’ a whisper in the depth, a disembodied sneer, ‘-unworthy,’ it said slowly, ‘-unworthy rat.’
“Reality is a hard pill to swallow, isn’t it, Teresa? The dagger, well, foolish child, it belongs to a pseudo-death reaper.”
“No,” she fought the grip, “-lady Undrar gave me that dagger,” only to be pulled back into his grasp, “-I refuse to believe it’s a fake-”
‘Lady Undrar?’ he briefly paused, ‘-she joined the Heavenly Council?’
“My master,” a roar came at the behest of a short slam, “-the army approaches. We await your orders, my master.”
.....
“Very well,” he released his hold and looked at Lilith, “-do you see?”
“I get it,” her wounds healed, “-she played a game with my heart. No matter what happens, Teresa is my daughter, I won’t let her be destroyed, you understand-” resolve and tremendous strength swept the hall. Distant rumbles reverberated the advent of war.
“A mother’s resolve,” he walked in front of the prostrated Teresa and lifted her chin, “-listen here, you have two options. Return to the battlefield and face the destiny of those who’d forsake their sanity or, join me, rather, join her.”
‘I have a chance, an opportunity to fight alongside father’s troops. I won’t bow down to him, not after my humiliation,’ her features strengthened, her lips sharped, her knitted brow and a straight line across her mouth, “-I WILL NEVER!”
“Doesn’t really matter,” he smiled. Like blowing a candle, he so effortlessly snuffed her only hope, the chance for her retribution, “-accord to this contract,” the ashes of her defiance reappeared, “-you belong to me. As such, all of you, including the soul and that wretched personality, is mine to command. Did you think you had a chance?” he laughed, “-there’s no help. Neither doth thee hath strength, nor support.”
He stood, “-Lilith, I accept her as your daughter. However, for her to be useful, she will need to face the truth,” he stopped, an eminent air of terror gripped her resolve, “-she will answer for Sathanas,” without another breath taken, he grabbed and dragged her by her hair, “-Lilith, I promise she will return to you as your daughter. However, I must do my part, and that is, to welcome this brat into our family.”
The scene for war was set. Darkened clouds built a somber skyscape. Lightning crackled in the distance – war cry and the clashing of swords, the explosion of magic, and the deathly howl of the deceased.
“War,” he stood on the half-pyramid, “-it’s always a lovely sight.”
“A lovely sight?”
“Yeah,” he turned facing the Juries, “-Asmodeus, Mammon, Beelzebub, and Vanesa. Today’s the day, I’ve had an itch ever since coming to Ragno. The air severely lacks the aroma of death,” he rose his arms, a massive explosion rattled, shockwaves blew soldiers and tipped trees, “-the moment I’ve longed has arrived,” the shadow army mobilized below them – armed with firearms and modern ways of battle, the fear of death set by their exploits would soon fell what most considered an unbeatable force of nature.
“Master,” Vengeance reappeared with Emmie in tow, “-here is the traitor,” he threw her on the blood-soaked ground. An advance camp was reinforced, and here, Igna took his place beside Fenrir and Elize as an observer.
“Emmie Hems.”
“Director-” she gulped, “-what is the meaning of this?”
“I will spare you the details. Emmie Hems, tell me, what side does thee answer to?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she smirked, the dirt added a sincerer feel to the otherwise mundane expression, “-the victorious ones.”
“Well,” he threw a gun at her feet, “-one shot and two choices. Will you, take our side, or take down the life of the enemy’s commander.”
She took a moment, checking the room and pressing her sides, “-I choose the path of neutrality. I don’t care about who wins. Long as I have my job, I don’t really care.”
“Suppose that is true,” the gun returned, “-you’ll be placed under watch until the battle ends. Is that clear?”
“What about Skeptor, he’s the mastermind-‘
“Speak, when you’re spoken to. Take her away.”
Minutes turned hours, the battle fluctuated, and there was no telling of what could happen. Henry Grant, a normal fellow with big muscles and a strong face, was a few miles out from the main battle. Two outposts were built opposite each other, one emblem, Satan, and the other Leviathan. Messengers reported at equal measure. A sudden notice had each general run for the other’s input.
“Cleopatra’s gone.”
“Lady Teresa was spotted.”
They left their tents simultaneously, only to spot the other, both hailed. Soon, a common area was set, “-Henry, did you get the news?” Zalem inquired from beneath the mask of alienhood. Between the tentacles and slimy outlook, the main question went as follows, ‘-how does he speak?’
Henry eventually broke his silence and said, “-yes?”
“Henry.”
“My bad, Zalem. Your face is always off-putting.”
“Say what you really mean.”
“How do you talk?”
“Sigh,”
“Did you say sigh?”
“Are you done?”
“My bad,” he gathered himself, “-Cleopatra is gone.”
“Lady Teresa was spotted,” they each waited, “-seems our priorities are different,” Henry continued, “-Cleopatra’s forces were impaled. The first battle came from her men turning undead. They have a powerful necromancer in their ranks – to raise thousands of men, strong men, in such a short instant, requires mana we both don’t possess. Zalem, we should join forces.”
“No, I think the best course is to split our forces,” no signs of how he meant the phrase – no face to judge the intent or context, Henry waited for the elaboration, “-Leviathan’s forces work best alone. You should combine with Viantnah’s forces.”
“Don’t mock me. I don’t need the help of students to fight our battles. Besides, there are secrets even Satan’s army ought to keep.”
“Are we in agreement?”
“Sure.”
Certain victory, ignorance of warning signs. Henry Grant’s forces were first in line – he carried his banner and ran through the meaningless skirmishes. ‘Such a Leviathan strategy, hang back and wait for their approach. Satan’s forces won’t be outdone by cowards. We have the blessing of Wrath – I won’t let them-‘ they rode on lower demons, cutting down enemies as they passed, ‘-two-thousand should be more than enough to take over their outpost,’ the noise died down, the forest’ trail tightened – and distant to the first outpost was yet a few kilometers away, “-this silence,” he slowed his troops, “-anything to report?”
“No, my lord,” said a scout, “-no traces of mana,”
“They’ve pushed back our forces,” he slowed the spirit, ‘-nothing to report?” he looked at the scout, “-explain how two people are approaching?” the army tightened their formation around the General, “-who goes there.”
Mammon strode with hands in his pocket whilst Vanesa skipped, “-civilians?” Henry narrowed. The duo halted a couple of meters away, “-not civilians.”
*Bring forth the malady of the ages,* “-my lord, the girl’s chanting.”
“Put up the barrier,” he glanced, “-you two should leave. I will not hold back, even if we battle two against two thousand.”
*-limit their mana, purge their morale, and deliver the greatest sufferance, spell name, too lazy to decide.* Vanesa’s dark green hair levitated, a pulse of dense energy rocked the troops, the ground cracked, and green mist emanated, “-sleep,” she yawned, “-Mammon, finish please.”
“WHAT IS THIS FILTH?” the well-arranged formation broke, “-GENERAL, OUR MEN ARE FALLING,” anguished screams thundered, there was no halting the disorder.
“WHAT DID YOU DO!”
“Nothing important,” Mammon returned, “-she just put them to sleep. Nothing to be worried about,” he shrugged and raised his hands, “-FIRE!” gunshots, devastation, and death.
‘What is this?’ he looked at his army with fear, ‘-Satan’s protection’s not working?’ he turned to the duo, ‘-who are the-‘ and then, a memory came, “-the one with a cold visage, the one who speaks rarely. That mark under your neck… a prince of Hell.”
“Correct,” he snapped, a massive beam of blue shot to the skies, the sheer voracity left naught. Zalem watched, “-Henry’s forces have fallen. Men, we’re launching a full-scale retreat.”
“-MY LORD.”
“No arguments,” he looked at the map, ‘-the topography isn’t advantageous. If only I’d gotten this information before he ran to save Cleopatra. What an idiot. Henry, the sacrifice won’t be forgotten.’
Shrieks of despair and plea for mercy, ‘-how could I have lost?’ the murky ground, the deafening sound of strange weapons… “-Henry Grant,” dust settled – bones and ash remained, “-general of Satan’s army,” another pair of footsteps approached, “-how does it feel?”
“To lose?” he coughed and clambered, standing over a massacre of at least two thousand, “-feels right,” he smiled, “-Igna Haggard, I presume?”
‘He’s calm,’ came a strange observation, ‘-like Teresa when I revealed the truth. These people are strange for their kind.’
“Yes.”
“Did I walk into your ambush or have you walked into mine?” he cackled, “-lord Igna, there are a few things thee must learn,” the dead rose – flesh formed, muscles rebuilt.
“Tome of Venera.”
“Excellently spotted,” Henry clapped.
“Congratulations, you’ve gotten one on me.”
“I must confess, I didn’t expect them.”
“Who?”
“The princes of Hell. I know their strengths all too well, judging by our own mistress, she’s second to our father and far superior to even I. Too bad, their greatest strength is also the greatest flaw.”
“Dependency, yes?”
“Again, I’m impressed by the foresight, Devil.”
“It shouldn’t be taken for granted – I mean, information is a war.”
*Heh,* “-Igna Haggard. You have two choices. Surrender or we’ll kill Sathanas.”
“Excuse me?”
“You didn’t know?” he smugly pointed at the revived army, “-Venera, the connection, Artanos?”
“Wai-”
“You’ve realized it, haven’t you?” he chuckled, “-the name’s Henry,” he tore his flesh, “-and I serve the god of wisdom, Artanos,” yellow shrouded in black, “-as we speak, Igna, my lord’s in Draebala taking over your strongholds. You’ve walked into his trap, it’s over.”
*Bang,* Henry fell, ‘-Draebala,’ he held Tharis, “-Mammon, Vanesa, return to the outpost. Tell Lilith to evacuate. This battle is over.”
.....
“What do you mean, father?”
“We’ve lost,” he gritted, ‘-I was focused on this battle, I didn’t realize Artanos’ real intent. I was certain he wanted the secrets held by Ereena… think back, Igna, think, was there any tell… the schemes, Teresa, Satan, the advent of war… hold on. To mobilize an army of twenty-thousand to siege Ragno – the numbers too small… Artanos… the fucker controlled the narrative. I was dancing to his tune,’ he tightened his grip around Tharis, ‘-I’m outclassed once again,’ he exhaled, ‘-tome of Venera, fighting an immortal army so that I don’t stray from Ragno…’ a voice spoke from within, “-CLEOPATRA!”