The Holy Man of The Church Creek

22

Launa felt uneasy, which was strange for a Devil like herself; more so because she was a part of the nobility of the Underworld. An heiress of House Eligos. As such, she had always been blessed with above average magical energy and a gift to utilize it in advanced spells and techniques.

It made her reticent, and unwilling to relate to the thoughts of others of lower status and ability. Her standing in the current Civil War reflected such thoughts. She was unable to comprehend why other fellow devils were choosing to lay down their arms and preach for a standstill.
Ludicrous.
Yet it wasn't without reason.
Those of higher standing in Devil society were the rulers of the masses, the one's least likely to be sent to the forefront, and more likely to be delegated positions of power to command others. Therefore, she was equivalent to a Devil that had been on the battle field yet had not experienced what a 'true' battlefield looked like.
Blood.
Gore.
And Death.
She had heard of such terms, but rarely saw it either even when she herself was facing opposition. After all, she was of a higher class and refused to stoop to the level of making a mess in her fights. It was always cleaner to obliterate her opponents with sheer magical ferocity than it was to use a weapon and bloody herself.
It was truly a naïve outlook. In a life or death battle, one wouldn't give a shit if something was messy or not.
Regardless, her mentality had already been built and mired upon years of constant praise and blind devotion. It was too late to change anything now.
The end product was a Noble-looking woman with lopsided hair streaked with lines of silver that stretched across her sides. Perhaps even more absurd was the fact that she wore a short blue dress and a luxurious mantle wreathed with small glittering jewels to an escort mission.
An ignorant lass, choosing appearance over practicality.
It was no wonder why she never considered the ramifications that the war had on the lower ranked and even the middle-ranked devils. As such, she stood on the side of the Old Satan Faction and wished to continue the war if solely for the pride of the devil race.
Escorting a group of low-class devils who couldn't understand the concept of a devil's pride to fight and show their supremacy left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. If they refused to fight in the war effort, then it was far more effective to slave them into work and make use of them.
Still, she clicked her tongue as goosebumps formed over her body.
Just thinking about that low-class devil she had encountered mere moments earlier, left her at a loss. Inwardly though, she refused to admit that she felt anywhere close to threatened.
Lips thinning, she eventually arrived at her destination, a tent more extravagant than any of the rest set up in the current temporary camp.
She appeared next to the tent's entrance and swiftly walked in, her pale and round face scrunching from the raucous laughter she could hear inside. If she could use any word to describe, it could only be unpleasant.
And indeed, it truly was unpleasant the further she went in. In fact, she found it quite obnoxious at this point, but she digressed. Those inside, were fellow comrades sharing a similar status as her own. It was only a pity that they didn't seem to inherit any of the class one must have when occupying such a station however.
Steeling her features, she rose a hand and pushed up the last flap leading into the innermost area of the tent.
The scene she saw inside was what she had expected. Her four other colleagues participating in the escort.
Alden Botis, Edith Aim, Crawford Raim, and Tyne Sabnock.
Nothing much could be said about their appearances, but like most Devils from prestigious family lines, they were both handsome and beautiful. Alden, for example, had long flowing black hair tied into a pony tail behind his back; his rugged features making him no different from a war general out on the field.
Yet, that kind of appearance wasn't something that appealed to Launa. Instead, if she had to choose, it would be between Crawford and Tyne.
Both were fair looking for men, but the masculinity in their features was still apparent. That, and the natural confidence they carried within themselves as heirs to the clans of the Seventy-Two Pillars. It was endearing and had an allure that could draw even someone like her. However, they were too caught up in following in the footsteps of their fathers who were generals in the War. Their ambitions were so large that they seemed to have had cast aside worldly sentiments such as love.
A pity.
As for Edith, it wasn't too much of a stretch if Launa referred to her as a friend.
The two were the only women currently present, and it only helped that like her, Edith was dressed elegantly. In Edith's case, it was in a black one-shoulder dress with small blue-tinted frills. On her feet were a pair of silk stockings and silver coloured flats that slightly curved upwards at the toes.
Launa made a momentary greeting and then shot a look at Alden. It was Alden who was the source of the annoying laughter, and she made sure she made it known that she did not want to put up with it. Not with her current mood.
Alden wasn't afraid of Launa, far from it, he secretly liked her. Therefore, the way she singled him out with a single look caused his laughter to cease as he believed that she had become captivated by him.
His conclusion was far from the truth.
Launa's four colleagues were gathered around a table laid with lavish food and wine, and of the four, Launa only found Edith Aim to be good company; Crawford and Tyne too difficult to talk to with their dismissive gestures, treating all women like predators wishing to pounce on them. Thus, as soon as she entered, she made her way to take a seat directly next to Edith while leaving a large berth of space from Alden who was the nearest to her proximity other than Edith.
If Alden noticed her action, he didn't comment, instead picking up on something else.
"Is something wrong?" Alden asked Launa. He had been observing her ever since she had entered the room, and he had noticed a furrow in her brow.
Launa seemed taken aback for a moment, but ultimately nodded when all the attention shifted towards her.
"Do you guys recall capturing a black-marked Devil?" She asked quietly.
"It's not a matter of recalling. It's just that it's impossible to recall in the first place," Edith said, taking a sip from a cup in front of her. "The amount of low class devils we're escorting is simply too much for us to remember individual faces or characteristics."
Launa's hands balled into fists on her lap. Edith's answer was reasonable, but it wasn't something she wished to hear.
"No," Launa shook her head. "I'm certain he'd have left an impression on you if you saw him."
Crawford and Tyne glanced at each other before crossing their arms.
"Even if you're paranoid, don't you think that taking a low-class devil too seriously is laughable?" Crawford muttered. "If you don't like him, then why not crush him with your magic. We all know that out of all of us here, you are the best when it comes to that. Or are you saying a High-Class devil like yourself is no match for a low class?"
Launa glanced up at Crawford, feeling chagrined. "You are an idiot," she scolded. "Do you not recall what Nirgul mentioned in the latest reports?"
Crawford's eyes widened before he shut his mouth. They were not to harm any low-class devils.
"The Devil Marbas," Tyne commented after a moment. "I've never seen him, but do you all know that heiress from the Valefor's? She's gone crazy, no," Tyne shook his head. "Crazy wouldn't even begin to describe it. She's locked herself up in her manor and refuses to leave, and it's all because she took a visit to the lands of Marbas."
"Hmph," Edith grunted. "So, what? He's just another Devil."
"A Devil that's housing all the low-class devils inside a magic barrier that even the foremost Devils on our side can't seem to comprehend," Launa rebuked. "Nirgul is an Ultimate-Class Devil and our current superior. What do you think he'd do should I kill an able-bodied slave worker? Especially since the low-class devils in this area are so rare now?"
By rare, Launa meant none existent. Practically all of the low-class devils without a Lord from the Seventy-Two Pillars to flock to had gone to the lands of Marbas for protection. The barrier protecting them now was unfathomably strong, seemingly impossible to break without numerous Ultimate-Class Devils working together.
Thus, every able-bodied low class the Old Satan Faction could get their hands on was valuable in that they needed them to do the tedious but necessary work. Otherwise, the Old Satan Faction would have to devote their much-needed military strength to procure provisions and maintain equipment.
"Then let me settle the issue," Alden suggested.
Launa snorted in response. "You have your own group of people to watch over, heir Botis, you need not concern yourself with mine unless you doubt my abilities?"
"I said nothing of the sort," Alden frowned. "I only wished to lighten your burden."
Alden's hands came together in a small gesture. They were calloused and worn from constant use either by training or on the battlefield. They were subtle marks of a diligent Devil even in the Old Satan Faction's side.
However, Launa detested such features for she believed that they reflected the personality of a barbarian who chose to fight in ways other than magic. Still, Alden Botis was powerful, and she actually did find herself wishing to dump the load on the oaf. However, Crawford and Tyne's judging eyes caused her to grit her teeth in indignation.
"I can handle it myself, you all can just watch," Launa said seething. "Besides, it's not like I'll ever see him again after bringing him to the mines."
Saying that, Launa stormed out of the tent, the others shaking their heads at her display of restlessness for a single low-class devil.
Only Alden maintained a steady gaze.
For Lucas Arthos and the low-class devils traveling with him, every day seemed to be another hell. Hungry and exhausted, the members in the Old Satan Faction's side seemed to have no idea about the limitations of those born of a lower class.
For instance, they tired far more easily and were not able to utilize their innate magic as Devils for extended periods of time.
Everything added together, and it spelled a death trap based on the forced marching speed of the caravan.
Lucas's clothes were drenched in sweat, large blackened spots staining his modest garmets as he walked forward. He had been walking for an entire day without rest and yet, he gritted his teeth much like the rest. For their exhaustion should be nothing compared to the Devil who called himself Marbas.
Marbas alone was forced to carry several tons of weighted metal ores that should have had been carried by the carriage because of the grudge Launa was harboring on him. Yet in the face of this burden, that broad back never bent, strong arms supporting the mass above him even as veins throbbed by his temples.
A sight worthy of admiration.
"How unpleasant," Launa muttered while staring at Marbas. She thought him so far below her that she didn't even bother forcing the other low-class devils for his name. Shaking her head, she then glanced towards the mountains in the distance.
Hell's Gate was its name, and it was known famously due to the natural formation of the two mountains situated directly next to each other. It formed a U-shaped canyon that appeared like the opening to a grand world or something along those lines. Launa herself never really cared about such things. Instead, she smirked when she thought about the mine at the base of the mountains that she and the others were quickly approaching.
A Devil Core mine.
It was a mine that produced Devil Core ores, a type of underworld metal that was able to easily conduct a Devil's magical power. Thus, making them useful as materials for weapon making. Moreover, it was extremely difficult to mine, and this was what caused Launa to smirk.
That damn low-rank, he'll surely suffer there,Launa thought to herself, no longer placing much attention on that particular Devil.
After all, they would arrive shortly before the evening.
The current Devil overseeing the mining operation at the Devil Core mine was named Nirgul Halphas. He was an old war general from the Great War Between the Factions, and he had been sent to monitor the location due to the Old Satan Faction's urgent need of Devil Cores.
The man had never really cared much about the matter, but he was always serious when it came to work. Therefore, he tolerated no disruptions and ruled the place like a tyrant. Every low-class devil sent to the mines either worked till they died of exhaustion or injured themselves and were disposed of.
Nirgul tolerated nothing else as a military man. However, his policies were forced to change recently due to the depleting number of new workers to make up for those that had died.
"The new batch is in?" Nirgul asked Launa and the rest who were standing in front of him.
"They've all been delivered," Alden answered.
For a moment, a pleased expression appeared on Nirgul's bearded face, but it quickly passed.
"Good," Nirgul said before then tossing Alden a small pouch much to Alden's confusion.
"What would you have me do with this?" Alden asked.
Nirgul didn't answer right away and instead sat upon his desk, the black mantle over his shoulders falling over top the chair behind him. Once seated, it was only then did Nirgul clasp his hands together and stare evenly at Alden.
"I need you to deliver that to your father, and I want you to leave now. That item will be of particular use to him," Nirgul said.
Hearing that it was something his father needed, Alden no longer asked any question and left for his home with a quick salute.
Nirgul focused his attention on Launa and the rest after sighing. He was a military man, and here he was currently overseeing a logistics post. His fingers rapped against the wood of his desk wanting above all to finish his task and return to the battlefield. Yet to do that, he had to make sure the mining site was in order.
"That damned Marbas," Nirgul cursed.
If it wasn't for Marbas taking all the low-class devils in the area, then Nirgul wouldn't have to worry about running out of low class devils to mine Devil Cores.
Still, he couldn't change the situation.
Instead, he would just have to wait and see.
The situation in the mines was such that Shirou had grown infuriated from the moment he stepped foot in them. The Devils around him were gaunt, and some so exhausted that they could barely even move.
"Go," a guard said, shoving Shirou forward.
He didn't resist and allowed himself to be taken through the mine's various passageways, all the while taking note of the places where people were being held.
Soon, he was taken into a dim-lit room that smelled of dust and sweat, a pickaxe shoved roughly into his hands. The guard from the Old Satan Faction then grunted before pointing him towards the other low-class devils mining in the area.
"You'll get no food unless you mine more than a kilogram of Devil Core," The guard said before leaving.
Shirou's eyes watched him go but didn't do anything else for a while. Instead, he fumbled with his hands to produce a small stone that Allon had given him to suppress his aura as an Ultimate-Class Devil. As soon as he crushed it, his aura would come flooding out and would serve as the sign for Serafall to launch an attack from her end.
He wordlessly tucked the stone in-between his fingers before making his way towards the other low-class devils mining at the walls.
"New comers eh?" One of the low-class devils mining said while coughing. It was an old man whose face was blackened from too much dust.
"Yes," Lucas Arthos said bitterly.
Lucas and the others who had arrived with Shirou were moved along in the same group. Therefore, they all stuck together, all looking at Shirou as their last beacon of hope for the words he had once spoken.
"My name's not very important, but you can just call me Ale," the miner said.
"Lucas," Lucas introduced himself.
"Marbas," Shirou followed up, the others quickly joining.
Ale shook his head wearily. "I don't need to know your names," Ale glanced at the ground. "I don't want to build any attachments."
Shirou rose a brow. "Is there a reason why you can't?"
"Aye," Ale nodded his head. "I may not see you again by the end of this week. It hurt me too much already when little Gabe died."
"Did they not provide food, or was it exhaustion?" Lucas asked with a pale face, thinking about his own bleak future.
Ale's face blackened as he simply gestured towards one side of the room.
The mining area was filled with the sounds of metal striking rock, but not so in the area Ale specified, rather it was deathly silent. It was only Shirou who knew otherwise. Pained groans and muffled cries entered his ears, followed by the stench of blood which he could readily discern. His eyes narrowed.
"They beat them you know," Ale said readying his axe to swing at the wall. "The guards."
The clinking of Ale's axe echoed in everyone's ears.
"It doesn't matter how well you work, so long as you catch their eye, you'd be the next one to be dragged and beaten for practice. They even call it a sport," Ale shrugged. "If you want my advice, I'd advise you all to not stand out too much in this place."
Ale resumed mining and no longer talked, leaving the others who were listening to his words in a daze.
In Shirou's case, it wasn't that he had been caught off guard like everybody else, but because he had spotted a group of said guards dragging a low-class devil towards the area Ale had designated.
It didn't take long before his enhanced hearing was able to hear what was happening there, and his face shifted into a glower.
He couldn't stand it.
Were men not made equal? Did rank truly mean one could forego what was right and wrong?
An agitation like none other.
The stone Allon had given Shirou began to crack in his hands, and with it, a fluctuation in his aura.
Those around him instantly felt it, and this was more so for Lucas and the rest who were less than two feet away from him. They all shivered, the hairs on their body standing on end.
A power that couldn't be measured.
His steps carried him forward, placing himself in front of the guards who leered in his direction. Behind him was the low-class devil that was dragged over, Lucas and the others helping to prop the injured devil up.
"Leave," Shirou's tone was hard as he spoke to the guards.
He didn't want to release his power now as he wasn't sure of the locations of the other low-class devils in the mine, but he couldn't stand idle and watch such a heinous act either.
"Know your place," a guard said, absently swinging a magic enhanced fist.
"No," Shirou said, catching the guard's fist in hand. "Know yours."
At that moment, the stone that hid his strength fully shattered between Shirou's fingers, and the power of a Devil of the Seventy-Two Pillars erupted from around him. A red flame-like energy flooded and expanded out of the mines.
It didn't matter about waiting anymore, this was as good a time as any to start his side of the plan.
"You take pleasure from the pain of others," his voice was distorting, the air growing heavy with magical power.
The guards cowered, faces paling as they backed away.
He wouldn't allow them to do so.
Swords, blades, daggers.
A cage of floating steel.
"Do you not know that they feel pain too?" His voice continued on, the grip he had over one of the guard's fists tightening.
"AAAH!" The guard yelled but was silenced in the next moment when a suffocating pressure forced him to the ground.
"U-Ultimate Class!" The rest of the Guard's screamed inwardly, gauging the feel of the energy around them.
"M-Mercy!" They pleaded, eyes shifting towards the floating blades and then to Shirou himself.
"Mercy?"
The power around Shirou intensified, the magic circle of Marbas appearing around him.
"Mercy is for those who deserve it, you all, you're not worth dirtying my hands."
The swords descended, ending the lives of the guards where they stood. Under the effects of the All the World's Evil, his bronze coloured eyes seemed indifferent to his actions.
A demeanour that compelled one's awe.
Lucas and the others were dumb-struck, staring at Shirou as if they had just seen him for the first time.
Take pride in your lives and seek out for a future worth fighting for. Now is not the end of your lives, but the beginning.
The significance of the words Shirou had once spoken seemed to carry a greater meaning to Lucas and the others than what they had before. And they held onto those words as if they were the purest of gold.
"Stay behind me," Shirou's voice soon snapped them out of their reverie.
With the release of Shirou's aura, every High-ranking devil within the mines would be able to feel it. It wouldn't be long before more company would arrive.
As expected, Crawford, Tyne, Edith, and Launa were quick to the scene.
"What is going on here?" Edith voiced out the thoughts of the four High-Class Devils.
Yet even before Edith could receive a reply, Launa's expression stiffened. After all, she like Edith and the rest were able to pinpoint just who was releasing such a domineering aura.
"It's you, b-but that's impossible," Launa whispered, backing away.
She was already apprehensive from the moment she had first been stared down by those bronze coloured eyes, and now that they were doing so again with such intensity, her body was already unconsciously retreating.
It was only barely because Nirgul arrived that Launa was able to maintain her position.
And with Nirgul's arrival, Shirou's expression finally changed.
The strength Nirgul was releasing was unfathomably strong.
The power of an Ultimate-Class Devil.
Shirou's eyes narrowed before he rose a hand and dismissed the swords around him, much to the surprise of Edith and the others.
Nirgul himself grew intrigued. Staring at Shirou, Nirgul could feel a strength perhaps even greater than his own? As such, why would his opponent do away with his weapons?
The answer was one no one would have had expected.
Within Shirou, he was staring at darker shadow of himself painted in black-tribal marks and nodded.
"Do it," he said.
The shadow seemed to hesitate for a moment, but nonetheless, understood Shirou's meaning.
"…then I won't hold it back any longer," it spoke.
Shirou understood something about Devils long before God or the other entity within him could explain it to him. They may fear the use of Holy weapons, or even Demonic weapons, however, it was a different kind of fear when compared to absolute power.
As such, he would not use his swords here. Instead, he would succumb to the natural calling of a power within him. A might he had been subconsciously repressing for fear of what it may bring, but here and now, he would release it to save those around him.
With weapons, one was strong so long as the weapon was in hand, whereas power need not have any tool to instill terror. For that terror was something that was instinctual. A right to instill submission.
The Red Tower Shines in the Deep.
Be you man?
Be you Devil?
It mattered not.
There was no voice, rather it was instinctual.
His fists clenched together, the black tribal markings over his skin shifting and writhing as if alive.
The King Piece of Marbas radiated with power.
Looking out at his field of vision, it felt not as if he was staring at Devils, but fragile sheep instead. His power was not that of a Devil's to begin with. It was a mix of the strength of the Marbas King Piece and the atrocities of all the World's Evil.
A unique blend, and the closest to that of those primordial.
An aura belonging to that of the Original Lucifer, an aura known as that of a Lesser Key.
A Demon amongst Devils.
He didn't know when the change happened or why it happened, but perhaps it was due to his extended use of a force he should not have used excessively.
A force unseen since the ancient times once again resurfaced; the flames within a burning bush flickering if only for just a moment.
A pact of old.
He who once wielded the Lesser Keys, and he who was qualified to be his successor.
A magic seal once again enlarged around him, the seal spinning as ancient text drifted out to form complex smaller seals.
Solomon! Solomon! Wise King of Israel!
Every other Devil around him began to shiver uncontrollably, Launa long since fleeing from the area of which she was the only one; the others too rooted in place and unable to free themselves.
Launa was lucky. She had left the moment she felt that something was wrong.
As for the others,
Nirgul felt as if he couldn't breath, and he was an Ultimate-Class Devil. If even a Devil such as him was like this, it wasn't hard to imagine how everyone else was fairing.
Crawford and Tyne's faces were already pale white, their bodies pressed against the ground, and as for Edith, she was barely standing up by supporting herself by a wall, teeth chattering.
"T-This was a low-class devil?" Edith mouthed in horror, unable to even gather the energy to glare at Crawford and Tyne. Suddenly she understood why Launa had been so apprehensive that she had retreated from the moment this monster appeared.
An aura that only continued to grow.
The seal of Marbas flickered with small inscriptions that took shape in the air and then lined themselves within the shifting patterns of the black markings over Shirou's body. A dull black mist began to exude from him, suffocating the area.
Tap, tap.
The sounds of his foot steps were like explosions in their ears.
A gentle thrum, a blue light shining.
From the black markings, blue lines began shifting up Shirou's body and traced along the sides of his chest and neck, creating an interface pattern that buzzed with magical power. Almost as if a vortex had formed, the magical energy in the air was gathering on a sole location.
Magic Circuits.
The pseudo-nervous system that spreads itself through the human body of a Magus able to connect the material world to the astral plane. The path to Magecraft.
It was like a fire had suddenly been lit, orange embers forming in the air and drifting; the pungent smell of ash and smoke beginning to permeate.
Trace on.
Reinforcement magic caused a thrum to emanate from his body, his body temperature sky rocketing with the full use of his magic circuits and bolstered strength. The embers danced ever wilder as steam began to emit off of him, heated vapours that blistered one's skin.
Nirgul staggered back, veins popping from anxiety.
Because through his eyes, Nirgul saw something that he never thought possible.
"No! I refuse to accept this!"
Nirgul lunged forward, magical strength enough to topple mountains gathered at his palm. He was an Ultimate-Class Devil, a walking nuclear bomb in the human world. His was a power that lead Devils against the Angels and Fallen.
And yet, he was still simply a Devil.
Feeble dark kin.
It was almost as if Nirgul could hear a sinister low tone, mocking him for his efforts.
He refused to acknowledge it. A trick of the mind it was!
But was it really that simple?
Nirgul's palm was caught squarely in the monster's hand, the magical energy in between warping as blackened fingers began to press. For a moment, he had thought he had heard the familiar sound of snapping bone, but he did not feel such pain in his body. Then where had it come from? It didn't matter.
His vision began to swim, feeling a pair of eyes staring down at him.
A visage that portrayed derision and disdain.
Nirgul was no longer looking at the Devil in front of him, but the shifting shadow within the Devil's aura.
A smile that spoke of Evil.
A representation of the World's taint.
Nirgul no longer had any doubts of what that shadow could be.
For there was nothing else that could release an aura and pressure like it.
The shadow of an Archdemon.
If the Seraphim of the Heavens could judge all within imperious divine light, then the Archdemons of old would combat it with unending malevolence.
Almost at the same time Nirgul accepted what was in front of him, a tattoo formed over the shadow's body.
Evisceration.
Bisection.
Impalement.
Kill, kill, KILL.
A torrent of horrific images plagued Nirgul's mind.
The images seen on that tattoo described the horrors of a curse burdened on only one, and it was crushing, forcing a choked gasp to escape Nirgul's mouth.
And that Devil paid no heed to Nirgul's inner turmoil's. Instead, blackened fingers finally squeezed and shattered the magical energy that had formed on Nirguil's palm; the Halphas magic seal around Nirgul distorting with tendrils of flickering demonic light as the Marbas magic crest over took it and engulfed it.
A deafening boom shook the area, the generated winds slaming fiercely against Edith and the rest, but they remained in place. Riveted, and unable to move their eyes away from the sight in front of them.
Nirgul Halphas, Ultimate-Class Devil and a prime leader of the Old Satan Faction was being subdued.
"No, no," Edith sputtered in denial, shaking her head while biting down on her lips. If even Nirgul couldn't escape the situation, then her life and her companion's lives were already forfeit.
Crawford and Tyne clenched their fists, faces stricken with grief.
No one wanted to die, and this was a universal truth.
One would fight their hardest in the face of death and even unleash a potential one never knew existed.
This should have had been the case for Nirgul as he had once done so in the very battlefield of the Great War between the Factions, but this time was different. Even if he could feel a rise in his strength from the flowing adrenaline in his body, his mind was already blank.
At the point where Shirou's hand and Nirgul's hand connected upon impact, curses were steadily flowing into Nirgul's body and eroding his strength without his notice.
"Damn it," Nirgul cursed under his breath. Yet more than that, it was his way of coping.
He shivered, the impression of the Devil in front of him long since shifting to something equivalent to fear and reverence.
Devils were beings that worshipped power and purity of blood.
The Seventy-Two Pillars, the Kings and Queens of the Underworld.
Great Kings, Archdukes, and Marquises.
Yet what were mere titles worth?
His body trembled, his eyes glazing.
The figure in the shadow stared silently at Nirgul in contempt, it eyes bottomless pits of red. A single gesture of its hands, and it was enough to convey its intentions even before an overwhelming power pressed down on Nirgul's shoulders.
It was a command.
Kneel.
Nirgul's control over his body seemed to leave him, his expression darkening in doubt and realization.
Bloodline Suppression!
All Devils originated from their progenitors, the Demons of the Seventy-Two Pillars and Nirgul was no exception. To begin with, Demons and Devils should not even be compared on the same level. A single command of a Demon could influence the strength of the entirety of a Demon's legions. As such, no matter how strong a Devil became, they couldn't escape their own blood.
His body quickly fell onto its knees, a derisive self mockery in his eyes.
Old Satan Faction, New Satan Faction, what a joke.
Nirgul lamented his own inability to see what was right before him. He, a once proud general of the Devil army lowered his head. Only now could he understand it.
With the downfall of the Four Great Satans, the spawns of the Original Lucifer, only one was now befitting to rule. A devil of the purest blood.
He whose strength was that of the primordial Archdemons.
"Loyalty to the Great One!" Nirgul yelled, his arms coming to press by his chest as he forcefully saluted on a knee.
The formal salute of the Devil Faction of the Great War.
A strong shout, and one filled with conviction.
Crawford, Tyne, and Edith were shocked,
but perhaps the one that was the most unsettled was the Devil in question himself.
"…" What?
Shirou winced from the fractured bones in his right arm, but not a single change appeared over his face. Although he was emitting the strength and power far beyond that of a Devil's, it didn't mean that his body could constantly endure such high levels of energy. The impact of Nirgul's attack had disrupted an already fragile balance, but Shirou used his own will to tough through it.
"Are you alright?" A voice said from a shadow. Of everyone present, only Nirgul would be able to recognize it. For it was the very same shadow that had been toying with his mind.
"I'm fine," Shirou conveyed internally to the shadow while forcing back the pain.
And yet, he didn't let go of his current strength, for he still had use of it.
Strong bronze eyes swept across the Devils in front of him, none able to meet his gaze.
Nirgul was still in front of him, head bowed and body in salute.
This wasn't exactly the outcome Shirou was expecting, but it was the only outcome in which he could save everyone without casualty. Nirgul Halphas was a genuine Ultimate-Class Devil, and he would have had been the first Devil of that rank that Shirou would have had ever opposed. As such, he couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of collateral damage a battle between them would produce. More so because it would kill the low-class devils behind him who were already weakened from forced labour.
Shirou stayed his hand, dropping it to his side.
"Stand up and tell the others to cease fighting," Shirou's voice was distorted and flat, giving the others the impression that he wasn't to be trifled with.
"This one hears and obeys," Nirgul said gruffly, glancing towards Edith and the rest and glaring. "Why have you not given your allegiance?" He seethed.
"T-This heiress of House Aim, Edith Aim pledges allegiance," Edith was quick to bow, her legs all but giving up on her.
"E-Edith?!" Crawford and Tyne's expressions seemed to say before their moods soured.
Logically speaking, Edith's decision was the most practical. Even if they couldn't understand why Nirgul would suddenly pledge allegiance, it was a fact that the Devil named Marbas had the power to force them to do so. However, how could Edith make up her mind so easily to betray the Old Satan Faction?
At least for Crawford and Tyne, they were apprehensive about it. More so when they considered that their parents may likely disown them as a result. Still, in this kind of situation, their lives were ultimately more important.
"We pledge allegiance," the two said at the same time with resigned nods.
Shirou's response was only a subtle gesture of acceptance, but to Lucas and the other low-class devils behind Shirou, their world views seemed to shatter.
To them, Shirou had merely walked out and then the entire situation changed with just a single one of his actions.
Nirgul got up onto his feet and immediately ordered all the nearby devils of the Old Satan Faction to stand down much to Lucas and the other low-class devil's relief.
"Lucas," Shirou called.
"Y-Yes?!" Lucas replied.
"Do you remember where the other cells holding the other low-class devils were when we were brought here?"
Lucas fell silent for a moment, before nodding in confirmation.
"Free them," he said.
Lucas nodded without another thought, moving in the direction of the cells.
Subsequently, Shirou's gaze then moved to Crawford and Tyne. "Help him," he said.
The two had thoughts of rejecting but quailed under the oppression of Shirou's aura. The pressure over their shoulders was just too much to bear especially considering that Shirou had the power to end their lives on whim.
The two urgently left.
"T-Then what do you wish of me?" Edith asked as soon as Crawford and Tyne fled after Lucas.
Shirou kept silent, causing Edith's mouth to open and close in nervousness, not sure if she should speak out anymore.
All things considered, Shirou wasn't actually sure what he should ask of her but hearing the pained moans of the low-class devils behind him, he made up his mind.
"Treat the injured," he said coldly.
Even if Edith was currently quite pitiful in appearance, it was true that she had taken part in the low-class devil's suffering much like Nirgul, Crawford, and Tyne. It would take a great deal of time before Shirou could actually forgive them for their actions, but it was true that their actions may not entirely be their fault. The fault instead lied in their upbringing and their sense of what was right and wrong.
Nirgul on the other hand, was another matter entirely. He was someone Shirou wasn't inclined to forgive as he had done such actions at his own discretion as an Ultimate-Class Devil. Yet, if Nirgul's pledge was true, then he could use Nirgul to help in the war effort, lessening the load on the other devils of the New Satan Faction.
Mouth thinning, he held his judgment when it came to Nirgul and decided it would be best to discuss this kind of matter with Serafall who he knew would eventually be involved in underworld politics.
"U-Understood," Edith complied, sighing in relief now that she had a reason to distance herself from Shirou.
With her departure, only Nirgul was left from those on the Old Satan Faction's side.
"Is there anything else, my Lord?" Nirgul asked.
"Did you call off every devil here?" Shirou asked to verify as he still heard the sounds of fighting.
"In the current vicinity yes, but I'd need to go to the magic circle in my office to transmit orders on a larger scale," Nirgul said.
Shirou didn't even take a moment to think.
"Then by all means, lets go."
Nirgul nodded once and then began leading in a direction opposite from where Edith had gone to obtain the medical supplies.
Shirou didn't follow the man immediately, rather he made sure to find a place for the low-class devils to rest first before quickly catching up.
The passage way Nirgul led him through was cramped, but the walls were evidently worked on as they were smooth and lined with burning wax torches.
Eventually, Nirgul led Shirou through two large oaken doors and entered Nirgul's office.
Inside was as Shirou expected, lavish and impractical. Jewels and fine furs were spread across the room mounted on wooden planks for display. It was almost as if every High or Ultimate-Class Devil had the need to show off their rank through expensive furniture and design. Even the candle holders used when evening came were made out of gold.
Shirou's lip twitched, but Nirgul didn't pay attention to his reaction. Instead, Nirgul moved towards the desk at the far end of the room and activated a magic that transmitted his voice outwards in all directions.
Everywhere, all fighting stopped as those on the Old Satan Faction's side stood stupefied as Nirgul ordered them to cease fighting. Perhaps the most shocked was Serafall and Allon who were attacking at the front.
From the plan Allon devised in the presence of Serafall and Shirou, once Shirou began attacking from the inside, Serafall would lead her men to attack from the outside. In this way, it was guaranteed that the enemy would be unable to defend the stronghold. After all, in Allon's plans, both Shirou and Serafall who were Ultimate-Class Devils should have had possessed enough strength to defeat any Old Satan Faction devils stationed in the area. This wasn't because the devils on the Old Satan Faction were weak, but rather, most of their Ultimate-Class Devils were on the front lines.
The fact that an Ultimate-Class Devil like Nirgul Halphas was present had caused Serafall to unconsciously stare hatefully at Allon when the news had reached her. She had been against the idea to begin with and now the situation was one where it was an Ultimate-Class Devil against another.
As such, she resolved herself to a hard-fought battle, and yet after the battle had just barely began, it was over?
Serafall's mind was in a state of confusion, and yet it cleared almost immediately when she spotted someone leaving in the distance.
She glanced at Allon before making sure that the fighting was indeed over, and then promptly left much to Allon's protest.
Meanwhile, back in Nirgul's office, Shirou's eyes shifted to the sole object laid over top Nirgul's desk.
"A map?"
The words slipped from out of Shirou's mouth.
"An important one," Nergul explained. "It shows the locations of the other supply posts and labour camps."
Hearing what Nirgul said, Shirou immediately walked over and took the map into his possession. It wasn't as useful to him since he wasn't familiar with the geography of the Underworld, but he was sure that Serafall would have a use for it.
Nirgul didn't even bat an eye to his actions, instead inwardly praising him for his shrewdness.
After pocketing the map, Shirou did a coursery glance of Nirgul's office and then promptly left towards the front gate to meet with Serafall, Nirgul following closely behind.
However, when he arrived, all Shirou saw was Allon and the other devils of the New Satan Faction. Near them were traces of ice and snow, making it clear that Serafall had been fighting in the area.
As he approached Allon, only a single question entered his mind.
Where was Serafall?
Far beyond the reaches of the mines, a figure dashed hurriedly through the terrain.
Launa felt cold, but she felt that it was simply an effect from the aura of that monster she had immediately left behind.
Magical power was laced into her legs as she leapt through the surrounding environment of bramble, trees, and rocks.
Her clothes grew dirtied and torn, and even the presumptuous air she had once carried as a nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars had long since disappeared. Instead, all that remained was an unsteady trepidation.
She swallowed, her eyes darting left and right while beads of perspiration lined her brow. Never in her life had she undergone such laborious physical exertion even in the war. It had always been so simple for her to just raise a hand and incinerate those before her with a blast of magical power. This situation where she was forced to run along the ground like a feral animal was a first for her.
No words could describe just how dearly she wished to just bolster herself with her family's magic circle and take off into the sky. Yet she didn't dare.
Even if it was faster, there was no point to it if she lost her life by going out in the open.
A shiver ran down her spine as she refused to glance back behind her from the direction she was fleeing from. That kind of power, what kind of Devil did one have to be to possess something so sinister?
Surely that kind of devil was one that had fought in the Great War Between the Factions; a figure of Devil kind that struck terror into the hearts of the Angels and Fallen.
Then why was he fighting fellow Devils and not wishing to continue the war for the glory of the Devil race?
She pursed her lips and didn't dare to seek him out to obtain an answer. More so when she considered what she had done to him on their first meeting and the unfeeling eyes he had used to stare back at her.
Oh God.
The pain in invoking that Great One's name didn't even affect her in her fear, rather it added to the haunting figure that had steadily formed in her mind. A cold-blooded demon that would snap her like a twig.
She'd be killed for sure!
She had always been cautious by nature, and she'd been a fool to delude herself into thinking that with just her strength she wouldn't need to fear anything from low-class devils. In the end, the trouble came from within that group of low-class devils, the demon in her very psyche, Marbas.
A chagrined expression came over her face even as she ran. It just wasn't fair that an Ultimate-Class Devil like that would mingle in the company of low-class devils. How was she supposed to know that she was tugging on a lion's tail?
The irony of referring to Marbas as a lion was not lost on her for he belonged to the Noble house of Marbas, Lion of the Underworld.
She shuddered, what a fool she had been.
All things considered though, she probably wouldn't have had been in such a fragile state of mind if she knew the kind of character her new mental demon was. After all, despite harming him, it wouldn't be unexpected if the man in question simply let her off with his kind of personality.
And yet, some things just couldn't be let go.
Dashing forward, she left a trail of dirt and grime behind her ignorant of her actions as she had never retreated in such a fashion before.
It was cold.
So damnably cold.
The wind seemed to cut right though her skin and down to her bones, her lips beginning to quiver.
"What the hell," she muttered, rubbing at her arms. "Snow?"
Indeed, drifting before her eyes were flecks of white snow, dancing in the frigid breeze.
She wanted badly to stop, and assess her situation, but her anxiety was preventing her from doing just that. What if she turned around, and that demon was there?
It was a lingering fear, the kind she thought she had long since gotten rid of in her child hood; the fear that should she look beneath her bed, there would be something there to stare back at her.
Almost as soon as she considered the thought, it was with startling realization that her senses screamed that there was something there, watching her.
She hastened her pace, her breath escaping her lips and condensing into a white vapour that blew across her face.
One flake of snow became dozens.
The area around her gradually shifted into a never ending white landscape, and it was only when her feet sunk shin-deep into snow that dread began to pool within her.
She jittered nervously, unable to understand nor comprehend what was happening.
Cold, colder than she had ever been before.
She wanted to scream but knew there was no point in it. If she wanted to survive, she had to think. And to think meant stopping, lest she end up from one death trap into another.
Without her moving, the snow was now pelting her like heavy droplets of rain, little bits and pieces melting and seeping through the fabric of her garments. Soon, the flush of her skin gradually began to shift to a pale blue.
"…" She wanted to voice her misgivings but no words could come out.
Before she realized it, the area around her all looked the same. The trees, the bramble, the rocks, all were covered in several sheets of snow that were somehow able to pile so neatly as to form a level surface. It was like she was standing in Antarctica of the Human World, a land of ice devoid of anything else.
Which way was she supposed to run again? It was truly hard to tell. More so now that she could only barely see a few meters in front of her. The falling snow had simply become a blizzard that hampered her in every way.
She stumbled forward as she picked a random direction to move in, her hands falling to support her and plunging into the icy snow. Covered in snow, her hands quickly grew numb, and she once again found herself standing idle after getting back onto her feet.
She wanted to go home.
It was a thought filled with longing.
She didn't want to participate in this war anymore.
She wanted to be pampered and attended to, her words to once again to be taken as law.
Her face twisted despondently, nothing she could come up with could explain her current situation. To begin with, she had never heard of a Devil territory this cold so far to the east of the Underworld.
Arms crossing around her chest, the action gave little warmth to her at the moment.
"Why is this happening?" Her voice came out in a rasp, and almost as a response to her words, the blizzard around her intensified such that it became difficult to move.
No. It wasn't that it became difficult to move, it was that she couldn't move.
!
The sounds of crunching snow filtered into her ears from a short distance behind her, and her dread shifted into terror and despair as she understood what they were. Foot steps.
Move! Move!
She continued to yell at herself, but it was all for naught.
Her blue lips quivered as a hand made its way onto her shoulder, fingers clasping down one by one like deathly vices.
Pale and slender, it was the hand of a woman.
"You hurt him."
The voice that spoke was casual, but the killing intent in it was anything but.
Launa wanted to speak, to plead for mercy, but was horrified to realize that she could no longer even do just that. She was on the verge of freezing, the vibrance of her skin already shifting to a pale white.
That hand slowly left her shoulder, sliding along the base of her neck until it was as if it was caressing her face, the only part left unfrozen. She didn't even feel it when another body pressed up against hers, a mouth stopping mere inches away from one of her ears.
"You hurt him," the voice spoke again, the temperature seeming to plummet further, and only then did Launa realize who her assailant was.
The Devil whose magic leveled a battlefield.
The heir of House Sitri.
The Ice Queen.
"Now allow me to return the favour."
Eyes widening, Launa could do nothing as the hands of winter slowly wrapped around her.
-An eternal embrace.
The prisoners were freed, and there were barely any casualties. These two facts alone would have had been worth celebrating if Shirou wasn't so tired, granted it was approaching the evening.
Body threatening to collapse on him, he gave one glance at Nirgul and dismissed the man before moving in the direction of the nearest housing. In this case, it was a shabby one room cabin made of timber and thatch that contained only a bed and a small desk.
Nirgul had been appalled by such a sight believing it wasn't suited for someone of Shirou's status, however Shirou had left no room for arguments.
Thereafter, Shirou entered the room and closed the door behind him, much to Allon's irritation who had been waiting for the chance to talk with him. After all, somehow recruiting an Ultimate-Class Devil like Nirgul was not included in Allon's plans.
Still, Allon was patient if anything, more so because he spotted a figure making her way towards the unassuming cabin as Nirgul left.
A small smile formed over Allon's lips. Even if he couldn't get his answer in person, he could trust that a certain other would be able to get them. Adjusting the mask over his face, he bade a quick 'good luck,' towards the approaching figure and promptly left.
Said figure suddenly felt irritated as a result, pausing in her steps to survey her surroundings. Seeing nothing however, she frowned and then continued on her course, stopping as she arrived at the door of the cabin and giving herself a once-over. Her face scrunched up as a result, her hands moving to straighten out her clothes and tidy her ruffled hair.
It was only then that the figure pushed open the door of the cabin and entered.
"Kuro," Serafall called in greeting as she walked in.
A small smile was blooming across her face and an air of jubilance seemed to surround her. However, that jubilance faded when she considered the type of situation the Underworld was still in, and how she should act because of it. It simply wasn't the time to be carefree.
Shirou was directly in front of her, standing by the desk.
"Serafall," he said slowly, his gaze meeting hers.
For a moment, Serafall lost herself in that calm gaze, but she quickly shook her head and narrowed her eyes. Although he had completed his part of the mission, she was frustrated that he didn't consider any of the dangers. Sure, he had somehow recruited Nirgul Halphas, but could he do that with every devil he'd come across? Impossible.
As she opened her mouth to reprimand him, she promptly closed it when her eyes drifted over to his chest. Seeing him take a lashing from a distance, she wasn't able to see the full extent of his injuries. Yet now that she was just a mere few meters in front of him, she could see the pale scars that stretched from his lower neck down to his waist, and they caused a cold fury to once again burn within her.
He didn't deserve this.
A feeling of bitterness soon welled up within her.
"I won't allow you to do this to yourself again, Kuro," she said resolutely.
No matter what excuse she used, it was still herself who had allowed Kuro to undergo this kind of mission. Therefore, a part of his injuries had her to blame. More than anything, she felt both grief and pain when she looked at him in this state. She had no doubts that not only did Kuro experience a lashing, but he must have had tapped into that power he used in the Marbas Territory. A great and horrid power it was, but the ramifications of using it were still something both Kuro and Serafall were unclear of.
Her lips pursed together when Kuro didn't answer her, and she started trembling when she thought he might refuse her words.
Everything else just seemed to leave her at that moment. She didn't care that she didn't know how Kuro recruited Nirgul Halphas. Hell, a deeper part of her didn't even care if he had even been able to save the other devils. What seemed to matter to her was Kuro and Kuro alone.
The seed of admiration that had been planted within her on that night was gradually shifting into something more profound.
She didn't want to see a Devil like him hurt.
She didn't want to see any burdens over his shoulders.
These feeling and these thoughts were ones she couldn't understand, for they were unreasonable given the amount of time they had spent together.
But then again, it was natural.
Because she too was a Devil.
A being known to be selfish and driven by motive. More so when it was something of desire.
"Kuro!" She said more fiercely when he had yet to answer her.
It was almost as if Kuro were in a daze, and in fact he was.
When Serafall had shouted, Shirou had just been enduring a bout of dizziness from All the World's Evil that caused him to blank.
Placing a hand on his temple, Shirou did his best to clear his mind, neglecting to answer Serafall in the process. Instead, he was desperately trying to maintain consciousness long enough to convey the necessary words to Serafall.
"Here," Shirou said, tossing the map he had obtained from Nirgul's office, and saying nothing else.
He was sure that the map was self explanatory after he had left a small note on the top. For now, he was just relieved that he was able to convey the necessary proceedings. Thereafter, another wave of dizziness once again washed over him when he began to relax as a result.
"This is a map?" Serafall said, Shirou's sudden action of tossing a map at her forcing her to shift her priorities.
Once Serafall gave the map a once over, her eyes gleamed. However, she didn't comment on it and instead placed it into a small pocket on her side.
Her arms then crossed together.
"There's no getting out of this conversation, Kuro. Not even this map is enough to save you," she said, her brows furrowing.
Silence.
"I know it may be hard for you to not risk your life to save others, Kuro, but don't you understand that putting yourself in such a dangerous situation isn't worth it?" Serafall attempted to reason. "I refuse to allow you to act like your life isn't worth more than anyone else's."
Silence.
"Hey, are you listening?" She asked, walking to stand in front of him.
He hadn't been answering for a while now, and she quickly realized that it had only been her talking for the past few minutes. Therefore, she felt that she may have been getting ignored and approached him to investigate.
She hadn't been expecting it when it happened though. In fact, all she had remembered as she had walked in front of him was his body suddenly lurching forward, and her mind subsequently going blank.
The next moment, a feeling of weightlessness took over her as the both of them fell over towards the laid-out mattress behind them.
They landed on the bed on their sides, their legs sprawled out as Kuro's arms came to wrap around her.
She froze, her breath coming out erratically.
"Kuro?"
It was but a feeble call, soft spoken and not one Serafall ever thought herself able to make. Yet for some reason, even as Kuro had pushed himself onto her, she couldn't raise her voice to him.
She pursed her lips, her eye-lids drooping as she hesitated.
Had he made that big of an impact on her?
Marbas, the heir of House Marbas of the Seventy-Two Pillars. A Devil who fought not for himself, but those around him.
Those eyes that had once stared at her in the silence of that evening were striking in the conviction that they held. For they spoke to her of change. The change that one man could bring.
The heralding of a certainty.
Her arms subconsciously wrapped around him, pulling him close such that the heat coming off from his body could be directly transferred through the light fabric of her clothes. The feeling was driving her crazy, but her mind held on to reason.
She had always been perceptive, and she hadn't seen any signs of what Kuro may feel for her, making the situation too sudden. Admittedly though, this reasoning took her far longer to realize than it should have. Clearly, she was ruffled, but incredibly, a part of her was actually expecting something.
She snorted derisively and gathered her courage to stare Kuro in the face to understand his intentions.
She then noticed something.
His eyes were half-lidded, his expression vacant, and when she thought back to what he had endured, she couldn't help but smile fondly while mocking her own self excitement.
She had come to lecture him on his actions, but in the end, it ended up like this. Still,
He did well.
In the silence of the room, Serafall raised a hand and absently ran it through Kuro's hair before then tenderly cradling his head in her arms, her thoughts unknown.
Kuro's sleeping face was peaceful, free of the anguish and indecision he had when he was awake. It was a face that she realized would only grow more handsome the longer she stared.
Slowly, her face came precariously close to his, her heart beating audibly in her chest.
Ba-dump ba-dump.
She swallowed, seemingly knocking herself out of her daze, and by then, her lips were but a single touch away from his.
She could feel his breath, could see his exhaustion and weariness, but even then, she could only admire him more.
For what purpose did he fight for?
Simply for an Underworld in which every Devil could be proud of.
What a fool, she couldn't help but think rationally, but there were always expectations in a dream. Especially one she now shared.
She stared at him furtively, and her expression could not have been anymore alluring as it was then.
Her mouth moved away from his lips, and instead she pressed her forehead against his; the contact causing her insides to flutter, but she was content with the feeling.
Even if it was just a little, her thoughts trailed off, a dangerous wistfulness in her actions as she imagined something more.
Still,
She suppressed her desires, pulling her face away from his and instead, gently hugging his head into the crook of her shoulder, listening as his breathing evened.
With the Civil War still going strong, the future would only be plagued and mired with obstacles.
There was work to be done, and with the map Kuro had obtained, a lot more Devils to be rescued, yet all of that could simply wait. Even the words she wanted to say.
For now,
Only one thing mattered in her mind.
She nuzzled her chin over Kuro's head and closed her eyes after saying a single sentence.
"Rest well, Kuro."
Thanks for reading! And a small note in the bottom.
P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious
NOTE: This week and last week were probably the hardest times for me to write with final exams and lab exams going on at the same time, and I would just like to thank the support I got in that time. Thank you, I just wanted to show my appreciation for those readers who have followed me up to this far.
Thanks Again!