The Holy Man of The Church Creek

27

A Hero is not a hero because he had saved someone or some thing.

A Hero is only a hero because he or she is acknowledged.
One whose very influence would remain.
The Fifth District of the Underworld was the location of a supreme defensive formation that had become the haven of all low-class devils in the Civil War between the Old and New Satan Faction: A large dome of energy, rippling with tendrils of magical might that were constantly active around the entire territory. Rumours even spoke that the protective energies of the barrier were the direct result of the unfathomable weapons said to be stored in the pillars that stretched towards the sky.
This rumour had even reached the ears of many of the other Factions, and when investigated, many returned with perturbed expressions. They all weren't able to discern if such weapons existed or not, but they were capable of detecting the divinity that swelled from the pillars in waves of power. Therefore, there was indeed some credulity to the rumours, and when that information had spread it had caused a massive debate both in the Underworld and in the other Factions.
But regardless, no one could take any actions without consideration.
For within the protective barrier was a bustling city of the Underworld.
In fact, it was a capital city now. A location of urbanization that had flourished due to one sole fact.
It was the territory of the fifth Demon of the Ars Goetia.
The lands of Marbas, President of Hell and Lion of the Underworld.
He who was a Hero of not only the Civil War, but of the Underworld itself.
The Lonely Demon who was no longer around.
The sound of her footsteps echoed across the tiled surface of a hall decorated with lavish designs and portraits hung upon the walls of granite and marble. They were of a sole lineage of Devils, proud and dignified as they posed to have their images drawn, and her head lowered once for all of them. For it was a sign of her respect.
The hall was dim, candles mounted and lit every three or so meters and giving off a soft orange hue that produced an air of solemnity.
Her mood dropped as it always had whenever she went to visit this place of mourning for it reminded her of the Lord who had saved her and her mother in her youth. The Kind Lord. A Benevolent Lord.
One who had even taken the time to entertain the ramblings of a child petulant enough to ignore the differences between status.
The mumblings of a young Adelina.
And the results of that man's kindness spoke for itself.
She adjusted the weight of her sword strapped to her back for it was simply too long to fasten on her waist. Made of tempered steel, the stainless blade was sheathed in a black scaffolding decorated with a simple flying swallow etched into the wood. It could be described as mundane, and beneath that of any magically enhanced weapon, but it would be eerily familiar in the eyes of the veterans from the battle of Kalnise Plains. In fact, many would scoff at the ignorance of others to insult such a sword.
For it was a sword whose use was demonstrated first hand by the Last Demon of the Underworld. However, she rarely used it, defaulting instead to the regular broadsword supplied to her by the Sitri Family of the Seventy-Two Pillars.
One reason was because she believed that she was not yet worthy to truly wield the blade crafted in the likeness of her once young Lord but another reason was in consideration for her current King by obligation.
Serafall Leviathan.
Serafall was one of the New Four Great Satans and the owner of the peerage Adelina belonged to by a contract. Adelina was Serafall's Knight, and it wasn't difficult for her to notice the sheer sorrow and pain reflected across Serafall's eyes whenever Adelina deemed it fit to draw forth her Long Blade. It wasn't because she was particularly striking when she did so, it was just because her forms and appearance were just too overwhelmingly similar to Marbas. But it couldn't be helped for her forms and positions were the forms and positions that Marbas had once taught her.
At times, her blade was the spitting image of his, and it was evident that the image Serafall had of Marbas was superimposing with hers as she trained. It didn't help matters much that she dressed in shades of red in respect for Marbas and the Crimson Legion recorded in the magical Library of Dantalion.
And Serafall was suffering in silence because of it.
Therefore, Adelina rarely used the Long Blade created in the likeness of her idol's sword.
She released a breath she didn't know that she had been holding as she arrived before the final portrait in the hall. A depiction of Marbas drawn to the standard of the memories Serafall and many others had of the Last Demon of the Underworld.
He stood standing, expression vacant while staring off into a distant sunrise, his posture languid and head held up with a tilt. It was the kind of expression she could remember him for and it caused her to swallow audibly, a tremble in her hands. When her father was first killed in the Civil War, she had thought that she knew loss and beleived that she would never experience it again. Yet when Serafall had returned to her on that day and told her of Marbas's death in monotone, she experienced it for a second time.
She stopped the trembling of her hands by biting down on her lips, the taste of copper in her mouth distracting her as she renewed her vows and oaths to Marbas and subsequently, Serafall.
After all, Serafall was also the last known Devil to carry the magic crest of Marbas.
It was why in the Capital city of Marbas, Serafall had supreme rule on all matters, and was also why Adelina had allowed herself to work as Serafall's Knight Piece. It was all because of Adelina's unwavering loyalty.
Adelina was perhaps the most devote and loyal to the name of Marbas, the Noble House of the Hero she had preserved within her mind.
Serafall carried the magic crest, therefore Serafall had her loyalty as the only capable successor to the lands of Marbas.
That was all, and that was all that mattered.
She knelt down on her knees and smoothly removed the sword strapped to her back before laying it down horizontally before her.
"It's been several years," she spoke in the silence, her long hair falling past her face as she inclined her head. "I, I'm no longer that low-class Devil of before."
She fell into silence, her mouth closing and brows knitting together.
"I wasn't strong then," she said in reminiscence. "Just a child unable to protect anything. Therefore, would you be proud of me if you saw me now?"
Silence. She wasn't expecting an answer anyway. This was simply her annual ritual.
She closed her mouth and no longer uttered any words, accompanied only by the gentle crackle of scented and burning wicks.
"Thank you," she said after a moment, a tremble in her lips as a surge of emotion welled up from within her. "For what you've taught me, and what you've created. For everything that you've done, I can't thank you enough. I was never really smart for a Devil, and don't really understand the significance of what your existence meant, but to me, you will always be the kind man that delivered a child who could no longer stand back into the arms of her mother. A man who could smile even without self gain."
She pursed her lips.
A man like him.
A man like him shouldn't have had died.
She swallowed down her bitterness and composed herself. There was no longer a need to wallow in self pity and doubt. What mattered was protecting the Underworld in which he left behind. One that was a world where even Low-Class Devils have better treatment. For in the words of Marbas, Low-Class or not, they were all still Devils. The Residents of the Underworld, walkers of the flames of Gehenna.
Her hands moved under the shadows of the candles, drawing forth her blade from its sheath, the gleam of silver reflecting her grey coloured eyes and causing them to glimmer in the dark.
She swung once, and the light of the candled flickered before extinguishing, small trails of smoke leaving behind a lingering smell of ash and soot.
Her feet pushed off of the ground, bringing her body up to a stand along with the sword she swiftly sheathed and strapped behind her. Her visit to pay her respects to the dead were over.
It was time to leave.
Her expression cooled until it appeared indifferent to everything. She was never much of a social person in the first place and the first time she truly ever opened up to anyone was to her parents and mentor, the Great Demon Marbas.
As such, in the case of anything else, she was never really an individual of many words; her indifferent expression a means to ward away others attempting to pester her with useless banter that would only serve to irritate her.
If they had so much time for idle chatter, why did they not use it to hone their own skills?
Her mentor Marbas was the best example. He too was an individual of few words and an impassive expression, but he used most of his time to train or use his actions to speak for himself. He was her role model, and until the point in her life where she met him, she never could have had imagined a Devil of higher standing aiding Devils of the lowest standing.
He was a leader of the Underworld like none other.
She took a step forward followed by another as she made her way out of the mausoleum created in honour of the Marbas bloodline and returned to a bustling street.
The Lands of Marbas had become something better known as the City of Marbas. The homes that were once made of brick, tile, and thatch replaced by smooth concrete, steel, and paint polished over with a layer of finish to lacquer over the wood used as furnishing.
The difference from the home of her childhood, and her present home of now were worlds apart, but she had long since grown used to it no matter how jarring it was that the change had occurred in only a short number of years.
She walked down the streets, ignoring the stares that locked onto her not just because of her frost-like beauty, but because of her current rank as a Devil. She was of the Ultimate Class, her rise becoming something of a legend amongst those of lower standing.
She, a devil of the lower-class had achieved the ranking of an Ultimate Class despite lacking the required magical energy. In rough standards, she could barely even be counted as a High-Class Devils when comparing magical aptitude and capability, but she had made up for a whole difference in rank based on her sword-skills alone. In fact, the only individual in the current Underworld she believed could contend with her was Okita Souji, a man within Sirzechs Lucifer's peerage.
Her lips thinned while thinking about the challenge she had issued against that particular swordsman that was still left unanswered.
Her thinned lips shifted into a frown as she pondered. She was certain that the man wasn't afraid of her, but for some reason her challenges were being ignored. From a swordsman wishing to test their skills against another swordsman, she was growing increasingly frustrated as she struggled to achieve the perfection she had seen on that day in the hands of Marbas.
Nonetheless, her personal issues aside, she was almost to her designated location.
She glanced up, staring at a nearby clock and inadvertently noticed one of the Underworld's current sources of entertainment.
It was a love story written in a book and even acted out in plays.
It was of a man and a woman on opposite sides of a war who fell in love with each other after numerous confrontations.
It was the love story of the then Sirzechs Gremory and Grayfia Lucifuge in the Civil War of the Underworld.
Of course, Adelina herself had heard the story numerous times as the Underworld was still lacking in entertainment values when compared to the humans on earth. Like many in the Underworld, she found the story to be uplifting and warm hearted. A tale of a forbidden love that had been able to reach fruition to the point where Grayfia had even become Sirzechs's Queen.
Yet all tales had their contrast.
It was just that many in the Underworld disliked how bleak that contrast was and chose to neglect it.
If Sirzechs and Grayfia was the story of a happy ending.
Then Serafall's and Marbas was the story of a tragedy.
It was a sad tale that began like all happy stories where a boy meets a girl, and Adelina herself was directly included in the story. For she was the little girl that followed the teachings of the protagonist.
A happy time it had been, Adelina smiled wistfully, thinking back on the memories of her childhood, yet feeling bitter inside.
Serafall was said to have had experienced love for the first time, something that no suiter found by the Sitri family could ever achieve. For Marbas, she had even delayed her arrival to the front line just to stay by his side, and when she did return, she returned with the Legions of the Underworld in tow, bringing victory in a battle that was almost certain defeat.
It was never known what Marbas truly felt for Serafall, but many in the Underworld speculated that he loved her back. Why else would he marry her without a second thought? Why else would he exchange his magic crest without hesitation in a show of a joining between two Noble families? Most of all, Marbas had given his life for Serafall's, throwing her back just to keep her from killing herself.
Yet that was the crux of the tragedy.
Marbas had died, making a love that should have had been, mean nothing but a lonely existence.
One of the Sitri Family's greatest regrets was Serafall's appearance as she arrived back from the Civil War and straight into a grand banquet made in her and Marbas's honour. She had stood rooted in place, her tattered and dirt smeared clothing left uncleaned and ruffled even as the calmness of her expression literally broke down. She had swallowed, a tremble starting from her lips that made its way across her face and made it impossible for her to keep her composure. She had begun to sob, trails of tears slowly trickling down her pale cheeks that she tried to wipe away yet was unable to because they simply wouldn't stop. Looking at the reception in front of her, it had been all the more painful for Serafall when she remembered that everything before her was meant not just for her, but Kuro as well; the promise Kuro had made playing endlessly throughout her head.
Adelina wasn't present for the scene, but many of the other young Nobles of the other families of the Seventy-Two Pillars were there and invited as guests. All had seen what had transpired on that day.
Serafall Leviathan, one of the New Four Great Satans had been gently taken away in the arms of her mother.
And this was how the story of Serafall and Marbas ended.
A tragedy where only Serafall was the one to remain.
Marbas, the Last Demon and Hero of the Underworld, a casualty of the Civil War.
Lost in her thoughts, Adelina only noticed that she had arrived at her destination after seeing the statue of Marbas before her created by the Low-class Devils and original inhabitants of the Lands of Marbas. It was made of granite and polished stone decorated with magical paint that gave the statue a certain life-like aesthetic.
Adelina however, never found it very pleasing for she understood Marbas's personality. Her young Lord had never liked using luxury on himself. This alone was already evident by the fact that when he had first saved her and the others, he didn't live in any of the shelters he had helped build. Instead, he rested in the forest without shelter, siting down with his back against a tree without complaint.
She shook her head as her personal thoughts on how others revered her mentor wasn't something that she should complain about.
Instead, she entered the building before her, the place where Serafall was meant to handle her work as one of the New Four Great Satans. As expected though, Serafall wasn't present in the main office.
Serafall was somewhat like Falbium in some ways. Of course, Serafall wasn't as lazy but she wouldn't hesitate to abandon her responsibilities when something came up. More than likely, Serafall's absence had something to do with her younger sister, Sona Sitri. The one individual Serafall was too overprotective of much like the Crimson Satan Sirzechs and his younger sister, Rias Gremory.
Adelina sighed, making her way towards the desk she could clearly see still had a massive pile of paperwork to sort through regarding policies and relations with the other pantheons.
Methodically, Adelina got to work.
When Serafall was out, it landed on her to finish everything left behind. Therefore, it can be said that Adelina had become proficient in this regard. She was Serafall's Knight and this too could be considered as part of her duties.
Only this time, something gave her pause.
It was a floating scroll sent by a magic seal that was clearly overlooked by Serafall as it was still left unopen by the furthermost side of the desk behind the piles of paperwork. Serafall had probably neglected it for the same reason that she was currently absent.
What a troublesome King she had, Adelina complained inwardly as she removed the restrictions on the scroll within the magic seal and took it within her hands.
Her brows raised unwittingly as she recognized the scroll for what it was upon close inspection.
A Family Registry?
She thought in befuddlement.
Like Serafall, Adelina knew Sona to be an intellectual Devil. Sona wouldn't have sent a Family registry to the office of one of the New Four Great Satans without a reason.
The Family Registry itself was a simple scroll that was first introduced at the end of the Civil War by the Old Duke Dantalion to keep a record of the descendants of the Seventy-Two Pillars that remained. After all, it was a direct result of the Great War and the Civil War that some of the descendants of the Seventy-Two Pillars were wiped out of existence.
As the family of the Demon of the Ars Goetia known to harbour the magical library of all knowledge, the head of the Dantalion Family tasked himself with making the registry.
Its function was relatively simple and direct. It had gathered all the remaining Noble Families of the Ars Goetia and had them touch the registry to react with the depicted magic crests drawn within. If one was of the blood of the specific magic crest, it would glow with a dull light proving that the family line of that particular Family had not yet been extinguished. Alternatively, if the symbol of the Noble Family was faded, it meant that that family had already perished.
The question now was why Sona would send such a thing as the families of the Ars Goetia that remained had already been recorded.
Curious, Adelina unraveled the scroll, the dull glow of a plethora of magic crests lighting up her features.
Almost instantly, it felt as if someone had punched her in the gut; her hands crinkling the parchment of the family registry and threatening to tear it apart.
Her composure shattered away, her lips pursing together as her eyes narrowed, looking piercingly at the glowing magic crest before her numerous times.
She grew stiff, almost frozen due to her own intensity, finally, she let out a choked gasp. One of disbelief yet filled with a hope that she had not known for a number of years.
Immediately, she activated a magic seal on her person, one only used in the direst of circumstances to make sure that Serafall wouldn't ignore her summons.
For this matter was too important to her.
There lying flat on Serafall's work table was the Family Registry of the Seventy-Two Pillars.
A magic seal that had once been faded and blackened, was now glowing with a crimson light.
It was the symbol of the twin keys and the knower of all truths.
The magic crest of the fifth Demon of the Ars Goetia.
The very same symbol of the Hero of the Underworld.
It was the Magic Crest of Marbas.
Serafall had been feeling as if something was wrong from the very moment she had chosen to leaver her office and shirk off her responsibilities for Adelina to handle. Nonetheless, she had left for what she believed was an apt cause.
Her little sister, Sona Sitri may have had found her destined other, and Serafall would be damned if she didn't get a proper look at the man.
Even if Serafall herself was left hollow with her own love interest, she didn't want a similar thing to occur with her younger sister. Ever since Kuro died, Sona had become one of the only people she loved dearly and she used Sona as a lifeline to keep herself from wallowing away in a pit of self pity and despair. That and losing herself in her work to protect that which he had left behind.
The emptiness in her heart caused by his absence would never truly heal, and she knew it. That was why the best she could do was busy herself with the concerns of others. Just like Kuro had when he had taken her dreams of the Civil War and made them ever grander.
It was all because of Kuro again.
His absent words, his remarks, forever preserved in her memories.
She closed her eyes, forcing down any emotion that would cause her to feel like sobbing and brought forth the bubbly personality she had grown used to personifying before opening her eyes once more.
"~The first wife?" She said candidly, staring across at the girl who had literally walked in to the current meeting to discuss Sona's future partner. "~Well I suppose the order doesn't really matter."
The girl appeared to be slightly younger than Sona's age, with strikingly blue hair and a green highlight hidden within the soft flowing locks. She was beautiful, not losing out even in Devil standards with a lithe figure and an ample bosom that was barely able to be contained by the jacket worn over her shoulders. From her stance, to her confrontational glower, Serafall was able to identify immediately that Sona had competition to deal with.
"Mrs. Quarta," Michael was the first to speak after Xenovia's outburst. There was a slight pause in his voice, but Serafall noticed the way his expression brightened enough to let her know that his mood had improved with Xenovia's arrival. "Take a seat, this a very delicate matter."
Serafall closed her mouth and allowed Michael to do as he wished. To begin with, this entire meeting was a result of her own selfishness in forcing the matter. Oddly enough, Michael and Gabriel had acceded to her request only because of some particular circumstance Serafall could speculate had required them to use a substantial amount of power. Thus, she had had the higher ground in the negotiations. Yet Serafall would never press an advantage given the current state of affairs and the peace talks. Threatening a potential partner was never a good idea in the long term anyway. Therefore, a meeting was eventually arranged after some debate which Sirzechs got involuntarily mixed up in, leading to the current situation.
Hearing Michael's voice, Xenovia bowed in Michael and Gabriel's direction before sitting down on a designated seat. It was only then that Irina appeared next, having ran after Xenovia.
"I, ugh, um, sorry?" Irina said bashfully when all attention fell on her.
Gabriel only smiled and gestured for Irina to also take a seat.
Irina did so meekly, feeling both stifled and awed at being able to sit in the presence of Michael and Gabriel of the Seraphim.
"Now then," Serafall cleared her throat, a hand moving to flatten the wrinkles that had formed on her magical girl outfit composed of a pink two-piece set of a skirt and a tank-top. "~Where were we?"
"On the matter of your proposal," Gabriel chuckled, her appearance bewitching. "I refuse. How could I possibly accept when you don't even understand the significance of your proposal?"
Serafall was far from convinced with Gabriel's words, partly because she had never been able to get along with Heaven's most beautiful Angel to begin with. As such, how could she be sure that what Gabriel had said had any credibility to it. It was true that she had heard from Tsubaki that the man who had defeated Sona in a game of chess was part of Heaven's faction, but that didn't really matter. In fact, with the peace talks, inter faction marriage would only strengthen ties. Therefore, Serafall couldn't see what the problem was. Especially when she had asked Tsubaki how Sona felt for the man who had beaten her, and only got an ambiguous answer as a reply. This was more than enough to convince her that Sona must have had felt something for she had always been rather direct when it came to marriage. She either liked the man or she didn't. An ambiguous answer was unheard of.
"Significance?" Serafall said, a smile playing on her face. "I'm certain that this situation shouldn't actually be that much of a big deal. To begin with, I didn't actually think that this matter would require representatives from both Heaven and the Underworld's Factions."
"Well you thought wrong," Xenovia said, her arms crossing. "The only one who can decide who he marries is Shirou himself."
"A true answer," Michael nodded in approval. "Therefore, there's not much meaning in this meeting any longer."
"Is that so?" Serafall's expression grew serious. After all, this decision may mean her younger sister's future happiness. Yet she knew that she couldn't insist any further for Michael's words were words used to end the conversation.
It didn't help that Sirzechs was also gesturing for her to back down. She frowned. Was there something here that she didn't know? Did the man Sona fancied be someone of a high position in the Heaven Faction?
A part of her didn't really care about all those meaningless things, but she always had to be considerate when it involved the livelihood of the Underworld. However, she couldn't let this matter rest so easily.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, she stiffened visibly, goosebumps running down her skin and causing her hairs to raise. A magic circle that stemmed from the back of her palm flashed with a dull blue light near the seal of Marbas that Kuro had granted upon her.
Adelina.
Serafall's lips thinned. Adelina would never actively contact her unless the situation was dire or it concerned the city of Marbas. In any case, she wouldn't tolerate any of the choices. She may appear bubbly and carefree, but there were some things that she would take with the utmost of seriousness. Anything related to Kuro was within that category.
She stood up, her expression blank. "Unfortunately, some matters have turned up that I must attend to," she said, an air of coldness around her that caused Sirzechs to blink.
For a moment, Sirzechs was reminded of the woman he had known in the Civil War. One who could be ruthless towards her enemies.
Evidently, Michael and Gabriel sensed something too and allowed Serafall to leave under Xenovia and Irina's gazes.
None knowing that when Serafall would return next, there would be a major development.
When he had arrived back at the present, it was to the same room he had been in before his departure. Everything looked the same as it had been before, and it was only the slightest differences in the hour hand of the clock on the wall that let him know that he had hardly been gone for long. An entire journey through time in the underworld, and only two hours had passed in the present. It was almost too hard to believe.
"The flow of time has always been hard to predict," God's voice sounded in his head. "A past event may run faster than a future one due to the many branches that could form as a result of altering the past. Something that you've already done."
He heard God's voice but didn't reply back because he knew that God was only speaking the truth. What mattered to him now was just to make sure that everything hadn't changed too much because of his actions.
The fact that he had arrived in the same room of his departure with barely any changes in the environment was a good sign in his opinion.
He stood up and absently began inspecting his surroundings until he was satisfied and returned to a seated position.
"Did you find out what you were looking for?" He broached the matter he didn't bring himself to ask God in the Underworld due to a lack of time. "And what's the Trihexia?"
"The Beast of the Apocalypse, the Trihexia," God said solemnly, almost as if God was at a loss for words. "When I was absorbing my past strength, I was able to distinguish just where it was that the taint of the Grail had gone to in this present era. And it's far from good. It's the worst possible situation."
"Is it that bad?" He asked, brows furrowing together.
"More than you would know. It will take everything we have and more to right the wrongs of my past, and to do so would require the help of the others that I would rather not have to deal with. Then again, the situation leaves us with no choice."
"Is there something that I should do?"
"None that you alone can do at the moment, but there will be something in the future. For now, it's best to discuss some things with Michael before proceeding with anything."
With that, God fell silent in a state of contemplation, leaving Shirou alone to himself.
He sighed, his eyes clouding over as he thought back to the image he had seen at his supposed death. It was his happiness to save others. To experience what Kiritsugu had when he himself had been saved. As such, he hardly had any regard for his own well being, believing that so long as he saved the individual, all would be well. Yet, from the despair he had seen in Serafall's eyes, he wasn't so sure anymore.
It was more of a personal issue than something he really had to debate over, but a part of him was already placing more importance behind his own life just so he wouldn't have to see such a sight again: An image where it looked like the person he had saved would rather die than be alive.
His hands clenched into fists, a resolve forming from within him to prevent such a thing from happening again.
He stood up on his feet, restless and unable to remain where he was seated on a recliner.
It was true that he had once said that he wouldn't step out of the house in the current timeline to avoid trouble, but he couldn't remain still.
He fooled himself by believing that he was only going out to verify that the changes he had made weren't too major, but unexpectedly he ran into a person he was familiar with almost immediately.
Sona Sitri stared at him with peculiarity, not knowing how she wasn't able to see the resemblance Shirou had to one of the Underworld's greatest Heroes. If not for the colour of his skin tone and the lack of black tribal markings, he would be almost identical to the Demon recorded in the Magical Library of Dantalion.
Regardless, she had only gone out for a walk to avoid whatever situation her sister was causing in Kuoh. However, she never would have had expected that her walk would lead her to the man who was the source of all commotion.
She had a lot of words to say at the moment, but only a few seemed suitable.
Any notion Shirou had had about not changing anything too major in the timeline were subsequently blown away.
"You," Sona said slowly, her face scrunching up in concern.
"Are in a very complicated situation," she said directly.
Thanks for Reading!
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P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious