The Holy Man of The Church Creek

23

The Fourth Day of the Seventh Month of the Underworld Calendar began the start of the battle of Kalinse Plains.

It was an event that occurred near the height of the Underworld Civil War between the New and Old Satan Factions, and it was the one that became the most notable.
As a flat plain of land, geography paid no value and the battle itself was a head-on confrontation between both sides. Which made the events of the battle all the more startling as they couldn't be fabricated.
There were no trees to block sight, there were no hills to impair judgment, the truth was out in the open and all present had borne witness to the red tide.
-From the Records of Marbas, Last Demon of the Underworld.
-Archived by Adelina Swiftblade, Ultimate-Class Devil and Knight of Serafall Leviathan.
"Haaaaa,"
A long and drawn out sigh, filled with weariness and exhaustion followed by the sound of a creaking chair.
"I say Sirzechs, are we not already losing when the work is already this difficult?"
The question came from a rather apathetic looking man whose bald head was the result of his own laziness. Rather than grow it out and go to the trouble of making it presentable in any aristocratic gatherings, he'd rather just shave it all and wax it polished. Of course, the goatee on his chin was a different matter entirely. The pride of a man was in his beard after all, and slothful as Falbium Glasya-Labolas was, he too was a man.
Therefore, perhaps the only thing that frightened a man such as Falbium was the prospect of getting a wife who would nag at him and insist on shaving his pride and joy like the situation that had befallen the unfortunate devil he called friend.
He stared long and hard.
"Is there a problem, Lord Glasya-Labolas?"
The woman standing by Sirzech's side answered in Sirzech's stead, gaze sharp. She was beautiful for a woman. With long silver hair that stretched to her back and a chest that bulged from the corset she wore over a white blouse, admittedly Sirzechs had good standards. Now if only her refined facial features and red eyes weren't marred by the glare on her face. Then she would have had been perfect.
Still, Falbium knew that obtaining such a beauty would come at a cost.
Falbium furrowed his brows, his mouth closing as he glanced at Sirzech's clean-shaven face before he promptly shook his head in disappointment. A regrettable loss had occurred for the Underworld.
"Nothing too major, Ms. Lucifuge, just lost in my ideology of 'to work is to lose,'" Falbium shrugged before slouching over the table in front of him and resting his head in his arms. "This battle at Kalinse Plains is taking its toll on us after all."
"Is that so?" Grayfia spoke with a lip twitching despite Sirzechs trying to placate her. "You are the very picture of exhausted," she said with heavy sarcasm.
Falbium didn't seem to care. In fact, he was even using the mantle of the Glasya-Labolas family as a blanket hugged around his chest.
"All in the mind, Ms. Lucifuge." Falbium pointed at his head. "Exhaustion comes in many forms."
A man smirked from amusement on the far side of the seated table that everyone was gathered around. Different from Falbium, this man carried an intellectual air that many would describe as devilish, leading to the fall of numerous women who experienced his charm for the first time. The eldest of the Astaroth family, Ajuka Astaroth. A man famed for his intellect that reflected entirely in the very own school of magic he had created. A magic able to control all phenomenon using equations and formulas.
His green hair was slicked back, and the collared sweater he wore beneath his mantle was neatly placed over his shoulders. He was the image of high-class aristocracy but was far laxer when compared to traditionalists.
"It's true that exhaustion can come in many forms, my friend, but can't the same be said for laziness. Care to counter my reply military genius Falbium?" Ajuka bantered.
Falbium's eyes glanced up from where his head was pressed to his arms.
"A war of words with you, Ajuka? I'll pass. Besides, if it weren't for our enemies biting at our throats I'd probably be asleep now anyway."
Falbium then threw his hands up into the air and righted his posture. Now that Ajuka had spoken, there was no longer any room for slacking. Amicable as Ajuka may appear, he was rather forceful when necessary. Especially considering the situation as it was now.
The battle of Kalinse Plain and the disadvantage they were in as a result of an unforeseen incident.
"A sixth of the Devils under my command can not be expected to return to battle after their confrontation with Euclid Lucifuge," Falbium said frankly.
"…"
Grayfia remained silent as her hands balled into fists. Euclid Lucifuge was her younger brother, and she knew that he had always looked up to her. However, she didn't share in his loyalties to the Original Lucifer. Not after meeting Sirzechs. But Euclid was still her younger brother, her family.
Her eyes closed shut and her teeth clenched. She hadn't known how Euclid was coping with her betrayal of the Old Satan Faction, but as the loyalist she knew him to be, she had speculated that it wouldn't be too well. It was just that she wasn't expecting how devastated Euclid had become to lose all sense of reason and immediately charge at her on sight.
The very casualties and injuries sustained by the devils under Falbium was a direct result of Euclid's crazed advance. What guilted Grayfia however, was the fact that she knew that she had had the power to stop Euclid but was unable to bring herself to garner enough strength to act.
"I still think it's better for me to go," Sirzechs said after glancing at Grayfia and furrowing his brows. His hands naturally fell on the table before him as he leaned forward. "My strength is enough to pierce a hole through whatever defensive line that they can set up. In truth I could probably handle half of them if I struggled hard enough."
The expression in Falblium's eyes as he stared Sirzechs after his remark was telling.
"And you don't think the enemies wouldn't know that? They aren't stupid," Falbium said strongly.
Falbium was renowned for his military genius, and it was a direct result of his tactics and stratagems that had allowed the weaker members of the New Satan Faction to triumph over the Old in numerous occasions. His words were not to be taken lightly.
Seeing the situation was going nowhere, Ajuka cleared his throat and intervened.
"In all likelihood, you going out would be a trap," Ajuka said before peering at Grayfia and considering the words that she had once said.
He frowned moments later. "There's an enemy that hides in the shadows if Grayfia's words are to be trusted. A Super Devil like ourselves Sirzechs. The fact that such a Super Devil has yet to even participate in the war implies that he is either indifferent to it or is simply waiting for an opportunity."
Sirzechs listened to Ajuka's words but didn't change his stance.
"With the situation as it is right now Ajuka, I hardly have a choice," Sirzechs said wearily. Wrinkles were forming on his forehead, and he seemed to be exceedingly conflicted on the matter.
"No, Sirzechs. Ajuka is right. The risk of sending you out is too high when considering what the defeat of a leading Super Class Devil like yourself would have on the morale of our men and women. Such a risk would never be tactically advised," Falbium said, eyes narrowed. "Besides you'd find yourself at the losing end of a battle before the war even started anyway."
Sirzechs rose a brow in confusion yet only understood when an arm forcibly slipped around his and clamped down without any intention of letting go.
"Listen to reason Sirzechs. If that man is truly out there like Ajuka speculated, you on your own may not be enough," Grayfia said worriedly. "It may be different if Ajuka was with you, but the formation of our side would crumble without his and Falbium's leadership. You can't go. Not without certainty."
"Then what do you expect me to do? Stand back and watch as those who trusted in me die!?"
Sirzechs was un-resigned, the wood of the table beneath Sirzechs' hands splintering and breaking into chips in his frustration.
Falbium sighed. "That was imported wood," he said dismissively. "But I suppose it doesn't matter."
Falbium raised his fingers. "A month," he said. "I can buy us a month's worth of time to think of something, but it's quite likely that even if we arrive victorious in this battle, it would a pyrrhic victory."
Despite Falbium's words, the New Satan Faction couldn't afford a pyrrhic victory. Although the forces of the Old and New Satan Factions appeared even at first glance, the differences in the individual powers of each devil was already too apparent. Those that had joined the New Satan Faction's side were the newer devils of the underworld who were generally far weaker than the devils of the Old Satan Faction that survived the War of the Factions. Therefore, despite having a larger number of devils on the New Satan Factions side, over all, the Old was still stronger and many devils knew this. As a result, the New Satan Faction was always short on recruitment. For even if the devils sided with the New Satan Faction, they didn't have the power to change anything. It was only the rise of Super Devils like Ajuka and Sirzechs that gave the New Satan Faction its definite edge.
The group fell silent, but pressured under Grayfia's gaze, Sirzechs nodded in consent.
"Do what you must, Falbium," Sirzechs spoke. "We'll come up with something, I promise."
Falbium nodded before reluctantly standing up and making his way out of the room. The temporary respite between the Old and the New would not last for much longer, and he needed to maintain a defensive position. For such a means, Falbium knew it was best to always prepare sooner rather than later. Even though the battlefield was an open plain and any defensive measures Falbium could take would be witnessed, seeing didn't mean that the strength of the defence would decrease. More likely it would increase instead knowing the belittling attitudes of the Old Satan Faction. It was why he was confident to last for five days; for knowing the enemy was the key to the art of war.
The flapping of the tent signalled Falbium's exit, and the three left inside glanced at each in fatigue.
"We can only hope that Serafall receives word of the situation soon," Ajuka said, clasping his hands together. "Last I remember contacting her, it was when I gave her the location of an enemy logistic site. However, knowing her the way we do, she would have had at most delegated the task to a trusted subordinate rather than do it herself and leave the battlefield. Something must have had happened to change her mind."
It had been months since the last time anyone had heard news of Serafall's whereabouts and her absence in the war was already beginning to show. If she had been there at the beginning, it was almost certain that Euclid Lucifuge would not have had been able to push through Falbium's flank to injure or kill so many devils. Perhaps then the situation would have had been different with the morale not being so low and the number of deserters not increasing day by day.
What was she doing at a time like this?
Ajuka held back the sigh that was threatening to spill from his mouth as it was useless to lament over an issue one could not change.
Left unsaid, even with Serafall's arrival, the situation would be hard to salvage.
At this point, a miracle was necessary.
By the time Shirou first woke up in a state of grogginess, he felt that something was missing from where he had slept. It was a feeling of warmth that had wrapped around him in his dreams, but he quickly shook it off in favour of getting out of bed and understanding what was going on.
From the noise he could hear outside, something large must have had occurred in his absence.
He pushed the covers of the bed off of himself and stood up on his feet, dizziness assaulting his head as his blood worked harder to circulate within his body. Almost immediately afterwards, the pain caused by maintaining his current appearance set in, the tribal marking over his body stinging like heated irons.
His face didn't so much as twitch anymore. Pain, he now understood, was all in the mind. He could ignore it, so long as he chose not to register it; not that it didn't come with any detriments by doing so but he preferred to at least be able to function normally.
He walked towards the exit of the room and pushed the door open leading outside.
"How long ago was this sent?"
Serafall's voice subsequently entered his ears.
She had her back to him and in her hands was an opened letter that she was gripping so hard that it was already wrinkled. From the way her lips pursed together and her brow furrowed, whatever content the letter had wasn't good news.
"A week ago, my lady," Allon said, while noticing Shirou and gesturing for Serafall to turn around.
"Ah," Serafall exclaimed in surprise. "You're awake. Sorry for my reaction, you've just been sleeping for almost two days now."
He simply inclined his head. He had grown used to the persona he was exemplifying, and it made it easier to cope with the pain he was under by not speaking too often. As such, he preferred using body gestures and signs to convey his intentions when possible. Still, this wasn't one of those situations.
"What's going on?" He asked.
The last that he remembered was setting order to the mountain logistics site, and then handing Serafall a map of the other key locations. Therefore, he was convinced that he hadn't neglected anything before falling unconscious.
Serafall pursed her lips, not sure where she should begin, but realizing that it would be best if she just let him read the letter in her hand.
She gave it to him without much fanfare before crossing her arms and pondering to herself.
The letter detailed the current situation in the latest battle between the Old Satan Faction and the New Faction at Kalinse Plains. Needless to say, the current situation of the war wasn't in the New Satan Faction's favour.
Reading further, his mood began to plummet as he considered everything from another perspective. Was this situation brought upon by his own intervention? It was more than likely as he could determine that Serafall should not have had been with him at this time based on the inquires of her actions written in the letter.
His eyes glanced sharply at Serafall who was biting her lip.
"What do you intend to do?" He asked.
"I'm going to make my way to the battlefield. Maybe I can change something if I get there fast enough with everyone else," she bit her thumb in confliction.
"And I'm telling you milady, not every devil under your command has the capability to keep up with your speed. Even then there would only be a select few which can hardly impact a large-scale war. What is one person to an army? Especially one who would have had exhausted their magical energy in their haste." Allon persisted on the side, trying to dissuade Serafall from taking rash actions and hinting at Shirou to help him.
Thinking for a moment, Shirou knew that acting rashly wasn't something Serafall should do which was ironic when he considered his own actions in the Holy Grail War. Regardless, he had grown to understand that his actions had consequences on not just himself, but the people around him, and it was this reasoning that was able to restrain his impulses.
"He's right Serafall," he spoke, making sure that their gaze met. "There are some things that you can't do on your own even if you have great power."
Serafall's eyes narrowed before drooping. "E-Even you Kuro? You're against me too?"
He shook his head before placing a palm on her shoulder.
"I said that there are certain things that you can't do on your own. Then doesn't that mean that one should ask for help." Shirou said wryly.
Serafall stared at his impassive gaze, and suddenly felt reassured.
"Then you have a way?" She said frankly, all pretenses left forgotten as an air of seriousness surrounded her.
He simply nodded his head. This was his fault for changing things, therefore it was up to him to remedy it. Fortunately, when he had last unleashed the magic seal of Marbas, more than just one function of the seal was made apparent to him.
Who was Marbas? A President of the Underworld and most importantly, a leader of thirty-six legions. When Marbas and the other Seventy-Two pillars moved, how then did their legions follow? The answer lied in their magic crests. Just as present-day devils were able to summon their familiars through their magic seals, it was the same concept.
"If I may, I'd like to have your hand," he said without much thought.
Serafall froze as Allon stared at Shirou in peculiarity.
Moments later, a flush was beginning to work its way up Serafall's face as she stammered incoherently. Her serious expression then immediately shattered as she averted her eyes and hung her head down in serious contemplation. Even if she was worried for her friends, Shirou's question was directly related to her.
In the old High Devil Society, to ask for one's hand was akin to a marriage proposal. But surely, she was just over thinking things. Her eyes locked with Allon's for reassurance but the man only smiled enigmatically. As far as Allon was concerned, Shirou had already passed his test and was suitable as a suiter of the Sitri family. For all of Allon's enigma however, all he got to show for it was a stomp on the foot with a heel.
"May I have your hand?" Shirou repeated, brows furrowing as he wasn't sure why Serafall was hesitating when there were people to save.
Composing herself, Serafall reassured herself that this was just a misunderstanding on her part, and tentatively, she held out her dainty hand.
Shirou took it in his, and almost immediately got to work. There was a function in the magic seal of Marbas that authorized its branding on another to allow the other to use its functions. In this way, he planned for Serafall to first make her way to Kalinse Plains before activating the seal and summoning him along with the rest to battle.
He had briefly skimmed over the fact that there was some sort of tradition in the exchanging of magic seals between the families of the Seventy-Two pillars as it wasn't within the scope of Structural Analysis. However, how can Serafall and Allon not understand the old traditions of their founding ancestors?
"K-Kuro you!" Serafall pulled back her hand in shock as Allon laughed uproariously.
The exchange of magic seals was the greatest symbol of marriage between the Seventy-Two pillars. Each of the pillars magic seals were unique and could never be forged. Therefore, they were the very representation of a Noble family. The exchange itself would allow the individual to harness the power of both the family's magic crests. Thus, the exchange of seals was only strictly reserved for husband and wife, but the technique itself had long been thought to have been lost.
The magic seal of Marbas flashed over the back of Serafall's right hand as she stared at it in a stupor. She didn't know what to feel. In fact, she was angry that Kuro didn't wait for her consent, but a larger part of her was feeling inwardly pleased.
Yet, perhaps the most pleased with the situation was the butler who had been serving the Sitri family for generations.
"A banquet, a grand banquet, I must inform the lord and lady with post haste!" Allon said before excusing himself much to Shirou's inner confusion.
With Allon's departure, only Serafall and Shirou were left, and the two were caught in an awkward silence.
Serafall didn't want to speak as she was too overwhelmed with the situation, and as for Shirou, he would rather not speak if he didn't have to. However, some things still had to be spoken.
"When you need me, all you have to do is think of me, and I'll do the rest," he said, referring to the procedure that she would have to use to call upon him and the others he intended to bring to Kalinse Plains. "There are some additional sentences you must say beforehand, but the most important is still that you must think of me."
He didn't understand why Serafall was growing more and more demure as he spoke, but he assumed that it was because of the worry she felt for her friends.
"W-Who needs you," she muttered embarrassingly. "I'm plenty strong."
He rose a brow at her remark. Following Allon's previous reasoning of a single individual being unable to affect an army, why was she still denying his help? Furthermore, the Old Satan Faction was sure to have devils on equal standing with Serafall, making it impossible for her to change anything alone.
He sighed.
"Even if that's what you believe. I can't let you handle everything on your own."
Letting her do so was simply too dangerous. Her death could mean a catastrophe in the future.
Staring at her, he seemed to convey that it wasn't the time to be thinking about irrelevant matters, and the seriousness soon returned over Serafall's features. The fate of the underworld was on the line.
"This is what I have planned."
Sparks flew in the air, embers seeking the heat of a flame.
He brought down the hammer once again, the clang of metal against metal resounding in the forge he currently occupied.
When he had considered what it was that was in his power to do, he realized a single fact. He was at an ore mine. That fact, coupled with his knowledge pertaining to the thirty-six legions that followed the demon Marbas, lead him to a single decisive conclusion.
Serafall couldn't change anything on her own anymore. Moreover, even if she brought the roughly a hundred devils she had under her command to Kalinse Plains, it wouldn't do much to influence the state of the battle. Instead, it was more likely that her group would get swallowed up by the enemy's numbers.
From the letter Serafall had received, there were as many as a hundred-thousand devil on the Old Satan Faction side, and eighty-thousand remaining from the previous hundred-and-ten-thousand the New Satan Faction had had. Also detailed in the letter was the stark difference in the capabilities of the devils of both sides.
It was a miracle that the New Satan Faction could be able to hold out for a month, but this was precisely due to the efforts of Falbium Glasya-Labolas.
Serafall had been immediately distraught with the information and the knowledge that she could do nothing to help. However, unlike Serafall, he was thinking outside the box with the resources he had access to.
Perhaps, more than just a sword, he was more suited to being a blacksmith.
The hammer fell once again, molding the Devil Core into a particular shape.
Throughout the process of tracing the swords he had stored in his armory; the history and each individual forging process was made known to him. Ores that would generally be difficult to smith became child's play in his hands, and the same could be said for the Devil Cores after he had adjusted himself to their properties.
He hammered down again and again, crimson metal turning smooth as he heated it and then cooled it in a vat of water.
The design was in his head. He had to make sure that it was perfect.
The best way to deal with large armies wasn't through brute force, but through fear. Intimidation. When one retreated, the others would soon follow.
The number of combat-able devils under Serafall's control was too few in comparison to the enemies she would face. However, if he considered the number of low-class devils currently on the mountain, then Serafall had access to over half the number of devils in the Old Satan Faction's side. This was after she had sent men to raid the other logistics location Nirgul had provided with his map.
Of course, it would all be a sham should a battle fully break out as one High-Class devil could probably decimate thousands of Low-Class devils on its own. Therefore, he had to make everything perfect.
When dusk was approaching, he called for Serafall to gather all the low-class devils together. The success of the operation would be entirely dependant on them. His task was the completion of all the armours within two-weeks using his proficiency.
In the main halls within the mountain, several thousand low-class devils stood murmuring to themselves as he walked up to a set podium.
"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," he said curtly, his voice quieting down the entire area.
It was no secret between the low-class devils that many held great respect for him. An Ultimate-Class devil who treated low-class devils as equals. This respect had shifted to admiration after it was spread by word of mouth that their freedom had come from his efforts.
"The reason I have called you all here is to ask of you a request," he said as his gaze moved around the room.
"If it's within our power, then there's not even a need to ask!" A man from the crowd yelled.
Next to this man was Lucus Arthos who was just as eager. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say that Marbas of house Marbas had become the idol of low-class devils. He was their hero.
"Then I'll meet your vigour with respect. Low-class devil or high-class devils, we're all the same. We are devils! And at this moment, I ask of you all to fight with me!"
He signalled with Serafall with his eyes, and she slowly brought over the armour and weapons he had been working on during the day.
Crimson steel riveted with interlocking pieces of cast metal enshrouded by a flowing red mantle that billowed from curved shoulder plates. Traces of magic suffused its surface, the magical potency of Devil Core running rampant and creating the image of flowing tendrils. Emblazoned on the back was the symbol of the Seventy-Two Demons, a crest of the underworld.
The room fell into silence.
Even if they were low-class devils, all understood what that symbol was. What it represented more than just the red armours of legend.
"T-That's," someone gasped for words.
In truth, even Serafall and the others had gasped upon seeing the armour Shirou had forged. Nirgul had been even more positive of his decision to defect from the Old Satan Faction after seeing it while Edith, Crawford and Tyne simply stood gaping.
"All of you will wear this armour, and I guarantee that I will protect you while you stand by me," Shirou said. "I'll only ask that you follow my lead."
He bowed his head low, touching even the floor much to everyone's shock. An Ultimate-Class devil bowing his head to low-class devils.
The sincerity in it.
It would be a lie to say that none present were moved.
Strong but humble.
The low-class devils swallowed their nervousness.
"We will follow you."
The voices were unanimous.
Serafall didn't know what to feel as she had rushed on her way to Kalinse Plains at Kuro's behest almost a week ago, but she knew that it didn't really matter anyway.
The plan that Kuro had devised was relatively simple. If she didn't have enough numbers to make a difference, then hoodwinking could work just as well. Even the art of war relied on deception, and if the enemy knew not of one's true ability then all the better.
It was just that even till now, she was in secret awe of Kuro. His integrity, and his beliefs, not once did he ever waver on them. He was truly unique as an heir of one of the Seventy-Two pillars like herself. He was perfect, a man she could depend on.
Her husband.
Her face blushed in embarrassment, nearly causing her to stagger and run into a tree. The act that Kuro had done previously, she still wasn't sure if his only intention was to get her to summon him and the rest like in his plan or if there was another motive. Perhaps, he liked her? The thought made her exceedingly joyous, but she had been too indecisive to clarify anything. Besides, Kuro as an Heir to his house must have had understood the customs. Old man Marbas would not have had neglected him on such a matter.
Therefore, had he truly proposed to her?
This time she did crash into a tree, twigs and pieces of bramble catching into her hair, but she hardly noticed it in her involuntary cussing.
"Damn it Kuro, why are you so hard to read," she complained.
Still, she clapped her hands over her cheeks.
Now wasn't the time for distractions.
From where she was, she could hear the sounds of battle in the distance. After travelling for more than a week, she was just arriving at the destination near the end of Falbium's allotted time frame of one month.
She put strength into her legs and shot forward. She had been the one to rush towards Kalinse Plains because she was the swiftest and Kuro would have to be present with the other devils to transport them.
Determination rising, she pushed passed the forestry and entered the boundary of Kalinse Plains.
The grass was soaked in blood, and numerous craters and holes lined the open field as the scent of iron wafted in the air. Her nose scrunched up as a result. She never liked the smell; for it only meant that trouble was brewing.
She took in a breath and paused in her advance a couple hundred meters away from where all the fighting was occurring in front of her. She knew that her movements had been spotted by both the Old and the New Satan Faction members fighting in the air. To go any closer would ruin Kuro's plans as attacking wasn't truly an option for them. Thus, it was best to stay out of range unless an opportunity arose.
From where she stood, she could see Falbium directing the devils under him. He was pointing and constantly shouting which was a far cry from the slouch she generally knew the man as. Sirzechs and the others were fighting near the front lines, preventing the Old Satan Faction from collapsing the formation Falbium had set up.
Yet from the looks of everything, Falbium and the others weren't going to be able to hold on for even a few more days. Falbium had promised a month, and it was nearing the end of the month. They were at their wit's end.
Serafall knew that she had to intervene now.
She only took one look at Kuro's magic seal at the back of her hand before she swallowed and set her resolve. For the sake of an underworld that all devils could be proud of, she would fight.
To win this current battle, one thing needed to change.
Morale needed to increase.
She could see it from the defeated expressions of the devils fighting in the distance.
Now was the time.
Her arm raised itself, magical power reaching the center of her palm and igniting into a torrent of flame.
"Serafall of House Sitri!" She drew attention to herself, her shout causing Falbium's and the others expressions to brighten.
Her voice carried in the wind, her lone figure standing in stark contrast to the two armies before her.
The trust she had in Kuro, the belief and conviction she had seen from his eyes, they told of the truth of his words. She believed in him.
The gamble was on.
"Heed thy call," Her eyes narrowed, the Sitri magic crest expanding rapidly. "Thou who art soaked in battle, and thou who judgeth the right from wrong, he who answers the truth of that which is hidden,"
"The Lion of the Underworld!"
Thrumming, the Sitri magic crest first glimmered before a secondary magic seal appeared overtop and expanded towards the sky. A magic of old. A transportation spell that had once moved the armies of the Seventy-Two Pillars.
The factions in the distance began to stir. What both sides of the factions had once taken as just a sole devil, growing infinitely larger in importance.
"He who ruled in the Seventy-Two districts, a President!" Her arm swung from her side, her words carrying power. Carrying weight. "One whose kind was famed even in the heavens, a Demon!"
Figures began to appear within the magic circle. Blurred, and indistinguishable, but they were enough for wide spread shock to stunt the movements of both factions. For at the edges of the magic circle were Seventy-Two figures far larger and more imposing than the many that were appearing at the center. And those figures, even without discernable features. They were familiar.
A resonance of blood and kin.
"Thou clad in the oaths of the cardinal sin, the Guardians of the Underworld! Lord Nobilities of the Seventy-Two Pillars and the armies that once stood at their behest!"
Thunder struck, tendrils of black lightning writhing from within the grey clouds that gathered up above. A dark omen, crows taking flight in the distance and cawing as the magical light of the seal erupted into pillars that stretched towards the sky. Those seventy-two figures were enveloped within them, their hands clapping together as they fueled the magic seal's power.
"Twice I ask thee, thrice I call thee!"
Her words resounded, a heavy thump shaking the very earth as a mass of steel appeared behind her.
"The River of Red and The Mantles of Glory,"
That which was only spoken of in legend and archived into the annals of history.
Swords were raised, spears pointed forward, and war horns sounding in the plains, the Crimson Legion appearing once more.
To give the hope that would turn everything around.
Crimson armour fastened itself over Serafall's body, her eyes closing as she uttered the final words to complete the magic seal; the crimson army that had fully appeared behind her raising an eternal banner.
Proud.
Lofty.
And Dignified.
"Praise be, The Legions of the Underworld!"
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