Future of Calamity [Under Rewrite]

Chapter 18 - Creed

Thrusting the gates open with a slam! The disgusting odour of torn flesh and withering bodies consumed their nostrils, as the vile tendrils of daemonblight stretched across the large hallway en masse. Grimly, bloodied remains of the once steadfast and innumerable exorcists and knights were lay to waste among the cracked foundations; treated as trash dotted along forgotten barrels of decomposing and devastated resources. Groaning and snarling monsters paraded the hallways ahead, the scent of iron on their claws and bored into their teeth.

Rokurou hummed with dispassion but also a hint of expectancy upon taking in the chaos around. "Hmm... Looks like there are daemons inside as well." Placing a sarcastic finger upon his chin, he levelled his gaze upon the pirate that scoured the opposition. "Don't tell me Eizen," he began with a mock face of astonishment, which quickly broke into an amusing grin. "You're the source of Daemonblight?" he questioned fiendishly.

Unwilling to take the inquiry as a joke, he tightened his gloves and glowered upon the danger that reeked from every corner. "Nope. It's just our bad luck to be around when it spread," he explained with a downcast grimace. Eizen shoved his hands in his pockets roughly and stepped forward, "This is what it means to walk with the Reaper. You only have yourselves to blame," he spat with honesty.

"It works in our favour," Velvet suddenly inputted, balling her fist with conviction. "The enemy won't be capable of an organised response."

Rokurou decided to step in with his opinion on the matter, twisting the supposed awful situation in their favour. "And we're a small group. Our mobility will be an advantage in the chaos," he reasoned with a rub of his chin.

Lastly, Sarid walked over from viewing the destruction ahead, "That also means less combat. Less combat means a quicker escape, and that saves your crew from getting banged up as a distraction," he added with a flip of his knife.

Eizen was silent under all of this, until he hummed in thought.

"So, Eizen. How do we open the sea gate?" the ravenette questioned as she placed a hand on her hip.

"The controls ought to be located at the upper part of the gate. We'll activate them, and then send a signal."

"Got it. To the top of the gate, then."

The group began their trek forward through the mass of gore and rubble, carefully encroaching upon the end of the hallway. And, all the while Number Two stated silent at the rear; taking in the ravaged ruins with an expression of interest and sorrow. Until, he felt a dreadful pin drop into his mind's lake of peace. Ahead, a visage, shimmering cerulean creeping around the group with ghastly scowls and hostile clicking. His mouth opened, and as he finally pushed to alert the group...

Slice

Thud

The azure form faded away, and the disparity of the ghostly hall fell as a cloaked form collapsed in a convulsing heap from the heavy air. This wraith was ever silent, as the blackness where its throat remained seeped with sinful violet. The boy's orbs of viridescent shock rove among the group, until it laid eyes on a shuffling of blanched hair, and Sarid flicked his blade back into its place with a wink and a shhh motion. Number Two's eyes widened upon already making a mistake with his job, but the assurance of such a person reaffirmed him; causing the young malak to hobble along at the group's heels once again. Vision now picking at the very veil of every displacement in urgent alertness.

The splintered wooden door groaned upon its hinges, the trembling of secure stone secreting dust upon the torn ground, until they were blown open by a rush of wind and a battered body. Eizen stomped onto the lizardman's face aggressively, grinding its scales to a savage paste as the group emerged from the carved hallway; a divine mix of flames, flesh, blood, and earth wafting from the remains of the room. Stepping outwards, the edge of cobble was abruptly reached as the gleaming surface of beautiful waters reflected their ragged appearances.