Shattered Line

Chapter 46: Him

Isla watched the exchange between Calimitrin and Meissier. His description of the Demon King stunned her. Monster. The word echoed within her. She had heard the word used before, far too often, but why now?

Yet, the usage fell short for his reaction shocked her the most. Here she stood, staring at the man who revolted against such a decree. Her gaze remained fastened upon Calimitrin as he laughed at Meissier, his face souring at the Demon's insanity.

Calimitrin reined in his laughter and the lines framing his face hardened. The fire dwelling within his crimson irises brightened, fueled by disorder. His defiance against all returned, stronger and deadlier than the norm, shaping his raw hatred.

Yet, his anger was directed. Not upon Meissier, the soon dead God, but the Gods altogether.

Calimitrin flipped the polearm, grabbing the hilt. With a strong arm, he flung Meissier's weapon, the blade driving into the far wall.

Without sparing a distraction, he raised his greatsword and launched a swift slash to Meissier's head, ending the God.

Time snapped his last emotion. Framing the picture was his white, stricken skin and wide frenzied eyes. If the light never faded from his amber eyes, and the pool of blood from his severed neck never appeared, she would have thought he would move.

Still, just another God.

"Isla?" Lucifer questioned.

She flinched and her gaze shifted from Meissier to him. He stared back, his hand grasping the narrow stair railing leading to her father. Beyond Lucifer, Calimitrin's black cloak peeked from the corridor before disappearing.

Isla sighed, her breath's long release stretching her side. Her free hand brushed the shallow ache, her fingers bearing her red life. She rolled the sticky substance, feeling the consistency give. An odd trouble, considering her normal constitution, but where did the fault lie?

She searched the room, narrowing on a forsaken blade The inscriptions still glowed without their user. The symbols contained blood and time in sequential order. From there, they linked to the core. The two combined cracked her current conundrum. But how long would this last?

Keeping pressure on the cut, she walked towards Lucifer. "I'm fine, let's go."

They increased their pace, returning to Calimitrin's side. The corridor extended straight, the walls empty, sullen and shadowed. Yet, a vivid flare directed their path forward, the ball floating and distant, but never reachable.

The fluctuating glow diminished then transformed the corridor from darkness to light. The shift transferred their party into a wide circular room. Tapestries blanketed the room, their colors vibrant against the standing army of one.

But the colors and decorations failed to soften what sat behind the army—her father.

Unlike their first meeting, he wore platinum studded armor, but the light reflected off his attire much like a refined gem. Stunning really, if she ignored his murderous and manipulative nature, and how he ordered the death of an entire city of innocents to reach one child.

Even worse, as if chained, both Skye and Rein protected his sides. Had their earlier betrayal been swept away, or did he scheme further, planning to face them against her?

"Quite the party here," Lucifer mumbled, pulling her attention from the cold chill crawling up her spine.

She smirked. "You're starting to sound like Asterick."

"Someone needs to keep his spirit alive."

"He isn't dead yet."

"True."