Fantasy That Time the Demon Lord Killed our Party Leader: Ic

[DSLIX]

Chrome Van Der Linde

Watching from the skies, Chrome circulated his mana within him to refill it quicker as Nergal tried to recover from him and his allies assault, which worked momentarily but it seems like everyone was locked in now as Eleanor unleashed a strange new ability manifesting as a fierce pink flame radiating off of her sword. Paimon quickly taking charge after her, and starting a coordinated assault to push Nergal back into The Well. He thought of it as a solid idea but way too safe as Nergal will most likely not be confined for long, and he is a omen of destruction wherever he goes. Chrome felt the need to crush Nergal not out of any hatred but merely because Nergal was strong. Nergal was so strong that Chrome felt the need to crush him and prove his strength as Nergal was too much of a threat to the party for him to be left alive. He takes a deep breath as he watches the backline support the injured mages, before deciding to zip over to some trapped survivors under the rubble and destruction. He saves a few injured and heavily traumatized students at the academy as well, using his blood magic to quickly stop their wounds from bleeding and bandage them with the little medical items he keeps on him. He's hulking stature and somewhat cold demeanor making most of the people saved flinch when first seeing him but seem to realize his intentions after saving them. Chrome actually didn't speak while saving anyone as anybody who can see what's going on knows where NOT to be right now, the only thing he responded to was when some academy students asked his name which he casually replied with "...Just a hero." After making sure all the survivors that he could detect nearby was saved he had happened to turn around to the sight of Azaera transforming into her draconic form and charging into the fray having her god Inanna summon and swing her legendary axe at the plague god. He smirked as he notice the blade's trajectory heading for the cage and he thought "Is she trying to free Phoenix? Hah lucky if she doesn't cut her in two." Chrome jokes to himself forgetting the intense battle that's supposed to be taking place before taking a deep breath releasing a strong wave of mana as his body overflows with it and saying "Alright....that was a good break, lets get back to it." His mana breathing refilling most of his mana as he side tracked himself with saving the civilians, he then immediately takes flight in a blur as his wings suddenly spawn from his back and launch him upwards.

Chrome focuses in on all his allies and thinks of a way to add to his allies attacks. The only solution he could come to was to bind Nergal in some way to guarantee his allies attacks hit. He thinks of a good way and a memory pops into his mind. Parzival's memory popped into his mind reminding him of a spell one of the vampire heroes used to bind the Crimson King. He flies high above Nergal and his allies as he hold his hand out and his palm facing down before muttering "Form...what'd he say? Ah...Blood Iron Stakes. " Blood leaks from his palm out into the air around him and forming into a overwhelming volley of blood stakes. Though as more form the ones fully formed start to turn into solid iron eventually making a volley of 30 iron stakes which he then points at Nergal and the stakes all take aim simultaneously. A simple flick of his wrist was all it took before they stakes disappear from where they once stood and close in on Nergal at the speed of a bullet. Immediately wrapping around the god's figure like a snake and piercing into his joints, feet, and neck trying to restrict the plague's god movement as much and long as possible. Using his control over the stakes to continue digging into Nergal's flesh the more he tries to resist, planning to make the stakes burst into flames as soon as his allies attacks land.


Mentions: Zariel Nessi

 

[Nessi]

Eleanor

“Block out everything. The only thing that matters is defeating Nergal.” Eleanor thought. Ever since she had manifested the pink flames that coated her blade, she felt like she was completely in the zone. Despite the current situation she was in, fighting against a god, she felt as if everything was under control.
When Enthy blinded Nergal, Eleanor rushed forward, and slammed her fist into Nergal’s head. The attack caused the plague god to stagger backwards.
By the time Nergal recovered, Rohen and Aaxir’s combo attack slammed into him, instantly sending him under the water. Before he could process the fact that he was now underwater, he was dragged back to the surface by none other than Eleanor, who had constructed a lasso via light mimicry. She slammed Nergal into the temple that surrounded the well.

Azaera came in quickly with Inanna, and with the realm destroying axe, struck the birdcage that trapped the goddess of rebirth, and after a few, almost painstakingly long moments, the cage crumbled, and phoenix immediately grew to a regular size, and fell limp into the water.
“No!” Nergal cried, scrambling towards Phoenix to try and trap her once more.
Paimon would intercept the plague god, and once more pulled him into a furious combo, only now he did not heal after every punch. Aided by the strong winds produced by Fel, each strike pushed Nergal closer and closer to the swirling vortex that was the well of wishes.
“I don’t know how you got out, but I’ll be sure to make sure you never return!” Paimon roared. With a final, powerful punch, Paimon launched Nergal into the well, and the sounds of the plague god’s screams slowly faded out of existence.

Eleanor, with the fight finally over, fell to her knees, all of the exhaustion and pain from the prior fight crashing into her like a mighty wave. “We…survived…” she said in between breaths. Slowly but surely, she stood up, and faced her comrades, a sense of pride washing over her. They did it, they had won the fight, and now they could actually do what they came here for, and then go back to the Academy.

Or at least, that’s what Eleanor had hoped.

Eleanor suddenly, and very violently started getting dragged towards the Well of wishes. She whipped around, and to her horror found the head of Nergal’s mace biting down on her boot, pulling her towards the well of wishes.
“Paimon!” she cried out, trying desperately to resist the pull of Nergal’s mace.
“I’m coming!” Paimon cried out, successfully grabbing Eleanor’s hand, while digging his fingers into one of the temple pillars. “Azaera, come help!” Paimon yelled, as he could feel his champion slipping from his grip with each passing moment.

Eleanor tried to grab onto Paimon with both of her hands, but no matter how hard she gripped, the constant splashing of water made it impossible for her to properly hold on. “Paimon, please don’t let me go!” she begged. She could feel his grip tighten, but it didn’t stop anything, and eventually, Paimon’s grip was broken, and Eleanor screamed as she was dragged into the well of wishes.

Being in the well was a surreal experience. The path downward twisted and turned, immediately disorienting Eleanor. She couldn’t tell which way was up, and which way was down, all she knew was that wherever she was going, she was moving fast, faster than what would possibly be safe. While the center of the vortex was free of water, Eleanor constantly found herself crashing into the almost blindingly bright water, barely getting chances to breath some much needed air.

After what felt like an eternity, Eleanor suddenly shot out of the water, and found herself free falling.
“Shit!” she cried out, trying to think of a solution that didn’t include turning into a stain on the floor. But she was falling too fast, there wouldn’t be anything that she could do with the time that she had. With nothing that could be done, Eleanor closed her eyes, and braced for impact, only to suddenly feel herself slowing down. She quickly opened her eyes, to find that her descent had been slowed by some unseen force. Landing on her feet, Eleanor immediately reached to her side for her blade, but could only sigh when she realized that the weapon wasn’t on her.

“Oh sweet Eleanor, looks like you’ve misplaced your sword, how clumsy.” Nergal cackled from a distance.
Eleanor looked up, and found the plague god standing in one of the exits to the dome that they were currently in, a smile on his face. Besides him, hooded figures surrounded the other available exits, to which Eleanor had counted 7.
“Was this yer plan all along? Drag me down here, try and separate me from the others?” Eleanor asked, her fists clenched and ready to defend herself if need be.
“Yes of course! All of your friends played their role perfectly!” Nergal laughed, spinning in pure ecstasy. “You shouldn’t be so glum, Eleanor! After all this is a family reunion, you haven’t seen these guys in so long!” Nergal laughed. With a snap of his fingers, the hooded figures guarding the exits all took their hoods off.

The moment Eleanor saw the faces of the hooded figures, her stomach dropped to the ground, and her heart began to beat out of its chest. It was her friends…no, her family from Breuci, their corpses standing before her in their mangled, undead glory. “Leo…Lottie…Toby…all of you…how did you even-”
“Get them? Oh it was so easy for Eleanor, because I’ve been watching you, for a long, long time. I knew where you had buried their bodies, and I just knew how much you’d love to see them back!” Nergal cackle with glee.
Eleanor furrowed her brows in anger, and began to step towards Nergal with the intent of beating him down with her bare fists.
“Ah! If you want to get to me, You’ll have to get through them!” Nergal laughed.
Eleanor’s friends immediately began to rush forward to defend Nergal, causing her to hesitate. “No…they’re just corpses. They’ve long since passed, and right now, I’ve got to get to Nergal!” Eleanor told herself, before rushing in, and caving one of the corpses chest in with a single punch.

Eleanor had expected to be met with decayed flesh, dirt, maybe a few maggots and what not. What she did not expect was the feeling of fresh blood covering her golden fist. She looked up at the man she had attacked, and saw that his face was contorted with pain, staggering backwards as he clutched his wound.
“They're…alive?” Eleanor uttered in disbelief. Before she could process this realization, Lottie would grab Eleanor, and shove her back, followed by everyone else surrounding her , and holding her in place. “You guys! It’s me, Eleanor! Stop it!” She cried out, trying to get through to her family.
This message did nothing to stop her friends, as Lottie wrapped her hands around Eleanor’s neck, and began to squeeze.
“I..I can’t die here…I don’t want to die here!” Eleanor screamed to herself. She threw her head back, and delivered a mighty headbutt to Lottie and forced her back. She then threw the rest of her friends off of her, and immediately began her own counterattack. One by one, Eleanor killed her friends with her bare hands, and when the dust settled, she was once more, the last one standing.

Only this time, it was Eleanor who was the monster.

Surrounded by the corpses of her friends, and covered in their blood, panic began to set in as Eleanor processed the severity of what she had just done. Her eyesight went blurry, and her legs wobbled as she fell to her knees, panting as if she had just been running for days.
“They were all still alive…I killed them, they know I killed them!” Eleanor cried, staring at the blood on her hands.

Eleanor had been through a lot during her time spent fighting in this war. She’s killed thousands of Olrodian soldiers, and has lost plenty of friends along the way. However nothing she had ever experienced could compare to the pain she felt right now, the searing pain of guilt that made her heart feel like it was about to explode.
“You’ve been through a lot, child.” A mysterious voice said. It was the same voice she had heard back in Hofn, the same voice that spoke to her while she was unconscious. “You’re in a lot of pain so much pain that it’s almost crushing. You’ve had to kill the first people to have ever called you family.” The voice comforted. “It doesn't stop there does it, your friends don’t quite like you much either, do they? They see you as weak, foolish, just a human who’s out of her league, right?” The voice asked.
Eleanor didn’t respond, but her silence was more than enough for an answer to the mysterious force speaking to her.
“I can take all that pain away, relieve you of the duty that is simply too much for a mortal to bear…All you have to say is that you no longer wish to exist.” the voice explained.

Eleanor sat on the floor, contemplating what she had just been told. “No matter what I do…I’ll just be a human, worse than a human, a monster who can’t even protect the few things she swears too…” Eleanor murmured. She remembers the promise that she had made to Paimon, the promise to live on for her friends, the same friends she had just murdered.

“I no longer wish to live.”

 

[Nessi]

???

A dark aura surrounded Eleanor, one that exuded loathing, hatred, and most importantly, power. Eleanor’s entire body began to shift into something much more masculine, her chest shrank, shoulders grew more broad, and shot up in height by a considerable amount. Her round ears sharpened to that of an elf, and parts of her hair went from its regular dark brown, to white.

When the transformation ended, Eleanor(?) opened her now red eyes, and took in the surroundings.
“My king, I welcome your return.” Nergal said, kneeling to the being that stood before him.
“I didn’t expect you of all people to be the reason I was partly freed.” The being said. The voice that came sounded like 2 people were speaking at once, with the second voice being much deeper and masculine.
“Of course, I longed for your return after my…failure to bring you back all those years ago, King Paimon.” Nergal admitted.
“The name…can’t have 2 Paimon’s running around…call me Hajun.” Hajun stated, stretching his limbs out. “Ah, here comes the calvary.” he chuckled, as Paimon, alongside the other heroes descended from the vortex.

“This is tricky. It’s gonna take some time for me to fully transform this body…and the brat has the rest of my power. We’ll have to work together for the time being, you keep Paimon busy, he’s at full power and will be problematic. I’ll have a little tango with the little shits!” Hajun explained to Nergal, who nodded in agreement.
“Hey, you bunch of useless mortals! I’ve stolen your friend's body, and if you want your friend, you'll have to fight me for it!” Hajun shouted, before taking on a fighting stance next to Nergal.

 

[CasualTea]

Demon's Bane

Rohen Xiong, "The Mad Orca"

Interactions: Nergal + Hajun Nessi

Mentions: All Heroes, Nel Dawnsx , Chrome DSLIX

As the attacks piled on, it became clear that the battle had been one sided from the start. Despite Nergal's rapid healing from the trapped phoenix, nothing can stop him from being affected by the heroes' continuous onslaught. Sure he can't die, but the bastard can still feel pain. Out numbered, he was the town punching bag taking every instance of impact and force. He can heal and not die but that doesn't he can't be passed around and beaten senseless by every able bodied patron in the bar. It was just downright disgusting and brutal. But damn, watching him squeal and desperately trying to get that bird back was a sight of pleasure. She could watch this sight all day, the feeling of making a God their bitch was quite a new and refreshing feeling since the fight at Tiryan's doorstep. She couldn't even care that somehow Aaxir's attack was conjoined with hers. She hated his guts, but it did feel like she carried that instance. It made her feel good. And now, with Paimon finally sending the fucker off and out of their way, his screams fading out was just the cherry on top. The chef's kiss. She wasn't even tired or drained. Finally, having won a battle without suffering too badly felt like a redemption. Time to go to the well, check how Eleanor's doing and...

"...Eleanor, what's that on your-"

Before she could finish her sentence, she was already being pulled by that thing. "Shit! Get her!" She began sprinting towards the well, the speed of the pull being way faster than she expected. Even with Paimon taking a hold of her, it only bought time if no one else got to her. It was a mad dash against time and just as she got there, Eleanor's and Paimon's grip had broken. She dove towards her to try and catch her hand. As she hooked her left arm around the temple pillar nearby, she swiped her hand towards Eleanor's but only grazed it and she watched helplessly as Eleanor fell deeper into the well and eventually out of sight in mere seconds. "Eleanor!!" She cried out. Nothing. If only she was faster, if only she had reacted sooner! If only... if only...!

"Urgh..! Come on!!" She exclaimed as she unbuttoned and took off her shoal along with her beanie and threw it over and out of the well, revealing her defined body frame coated by her combat jacket. She raised herself up only to put her feet against the pillar, took a deep breath and with a majestic backflip, shot herself down the well after Eleanor. There was no time for caution, no time for hesitation. Nergal was down there and she wasn't going to let Nel's title decree of Champion be wasted on her after having somehow lifted Eleanor's spirits up that one time! Was Rohen full of ego? Sure. Was it impulsive? Probably. Did she think any of this through? Not so much. But none of it mattered to her. She was not going to let Eleanor go this time to redeem herself for what happened prior. As she dove deeper into the eye of the vortex, she began to notice the sudden changes in direction and its strength. Assuming Eleanor was just getting thrashed around in a panic, she would only end up at the finish line of this twisted path. The blinding lights making Rohen's eyes squint in an effort to counter its visuals but still disorienting nonetheless. What she could only do is just ride the current, flow with it and take her where she had to go. There was no use fighting it. Just stay calm and focus.

After a very long long time, finally shot out of the water where she took a refreshing and full breath of air... Only to realize she was in the air once more. Another damn free fall and no Knight with Wings: Chrome was gonna pluck her from the sky. At least, not here yet. And at least this time, she wasn't blown out of the sky by Golroth. She had a plan. Albeit that plan... Might not even work, but worth a shot. Perhaps she can slow her velocity if she summoned the Narwhal again and rode it. It would at least provide some cushion of water. "Here goes nothing..!" She exclaimed. She closed her eyes in order to concentrate her mana and begin her incantation. "From the moment of origin, all will return to... huh?" She opened her eyes as she felt like she was being pulled and pushed at the same time, her velocity slowing down as she caught sight of Eleanor who was sitting down. Was she waiting here the whole time? Did she really take that long? "Eleanor? You good?" ...No response. "C'mon, I've been falling for thirty minutes and still am. What are..."

It was only then did she take a look at the elephant in the room. Bodies, blood and... Nergal. Something was very wrong. "I no longer wish to live." Then, an aura formed around her as she went some sort of transformation. She watched as Eleanor's figure warped and shifted soon taking on the frame of a man who looked like... Paimon? “My king, I welcome your return.” Nergal said, kneeling to the being that stood before him. “I didn’t expect you of all people to be the reason I was partly freed.” The being said. Rohen watched in confusion as she was still descending, questions raising itself in her head. “Of course, I longed for your return after my…failure to bring you back all those years ago, King Paimon.” “The name…can’t have 2 Paimon’s running around…call me Hajun.” Hajun stated, stretching his limbs out. It was then where Rohen could finally touch down and gain her footing. “Ah, here comes the calvary.”

“This is tricky. It’s gonna take some time for me to fully transform this body…and the brat has the rest of my power. We’ll have to work together for the time being, you keep Paimon busy, he’s at full power and will be problematic. I’ll have a little tango with the little shits!” Hajun explained to Nergal, who nodded in agreement. Rohen looked at Paimon and began noticing some similarities. But just what the hell is going on here? Before she could draw up any conclusions, her distractedness was broken by this... Hajun's call. “Hey, you bunch of useless mortals! I’ve stolen your friend's body, and if you want your friend, you'll have to fight me for it!” Hajun shouted, before taking on a fighting stance next to Nergal.

Possession. That was the only word that came up in her head. Why can't they just have one fucking victory and it feels like one. Followed by a period of respite and rest. No, there just had to be more enemies and the enemy is one they just defeated and another who had Eleanor's body. Contradicting... But once more, resolute. Only one solution came to her and she didn't like it. Not. One. Bit. "...Release restraint: burst. Level one." She growled as dragonic scales began to coat her skin and harden. Rohen was entering her partial synchronization, armoring herself while also summoning several water swords that formed and floated around her, pointed at Nergal and Hajun. After her transformation was complete, she flicked her left arm and once more released large axe blades on either side of her arm using the Water's Edge. "I'm sorry, El. I'm gonna have to beat the shit out of you." She said as she began walking towards their opposition, unsheathing her dao and a flurry of water projectile swords flew through the air, launching themselves towards Nergal and Hajun.

 

[Nano]

act29side

Enthyskana Rhoda

A modest patch of flowers waved gently in the wind, carrying its saccharine caress from the delicate white petals reminiscent of a certain dragon’s feathers. Dirt-stained hands clasped together in prayer, hoping that the little spot of life would one day spread and reproduce, creating a marvel of beauty nourished by the ashes of a man who’d fallen down the wrong path. All was at peace, yet the young woman’s mismatched eyes remained dull and devoid of the life she so fervently prayed for.

“Are you watching, Adaline?”

she murmured as she dropped her hands and gazed numbly upon the sparsely decorated ground,

“Everyone has finally been laid to rest.”

Each time she closed her eyes, the rusted sword that stole away her brother’s final breath danced vividly behind her eyelids. With her own two hands, she finished what she should have done decades ago, burying the last of her kin and a part of herself in the process. As she stood before the grave that held her brother’s ashes, her longing for the earth’s cold embrace grew stronger.

“And once I’m gone, this cycle of hatred between our families will reach its end.”

That day was burned within her memories, and she could still recall the firm yet gentle manner in which the God of Justice pulled her away from the figurative precipice she’d been teetering upon. The hand that reached out to her had been spotless and ethereal, a juxtaposition to her own which was muddied by the blood and dirt of mortal ordeals. Selfishly, she clung to that lifeline, thirsting for some manner of validation that she was still needed. Because someone had told her that her worth was still greater than her sins, she continued to walk forward in hopes that she'd one day come to know why fate had spared her and not them.

The sight of Eleanor's form twisted by Hajun's power, however, reminded her that she'd unknowingly set herself down a path accompanied by a lifetime's worth of misery. Rohen and the heroes quickly rushed forth to cleanse the blonde’s body of the entity possessing her, yet the dragon remained still with the head of her axe planted firmly within the ground.

“Four years ago, you told me to live—that even someone like me still had a purpose to fulfill,”

Enthy spoke silently in her mind to the god by her side,

“but it feels as if I’ve only succeeded in falling down over and over without being able to reach the beginning of this journey. We’ve tasted defeat, and now how many times must I turn my blade against the people I’ve broken bread and shared laughter with?”

Veritas remained unmoving from his spot before the dragon, his cold expression as unwavering as the day she’d first set her gaze upon his face.

“They were nothing more than empty shells reanimated through the emperor’s dark magic,"

he said as if stating fact, and Enthy had received the courage to lay them to rest back when he’d first uttered those words. Now, his instruction only increased the weight of the yoke upon her shoulders.

“You forget that I am but a mere mortal, My Lord,”

she replied,

“A divine being such as yourself may possess an immovable heart of stone, but I am weak. My hands tremble each time I must fight, but I’ve nonetheless faithfully followed your doctrines in hopes that your words will one day deliver me to my final destination. You saved me, and in turn I’ve listened to the voice telling me to slay those whose sins merely amount to following the wrong king, while I must stay my hand in the face of a so-called hero who steals the breaths of innocents still fighting to live on in spite of their pain. Is the justice that I must follow this fickle? What do these vague lessons of yours preach?”

“Whenever I remember the faces of those who once accompanied me in battle as I floundered about foolishly, I always think: why was it not me? They were good people. I am not. And now, selfishly I can’t help but think, if they take Mei from me too, I will never forgive the gods who watch as we dance upon this cursed stage while they sit upon their thrones built upon empty promises and broken ideals.”

Whether he was stewing in anger or stunned at the audacity of his chosen hero’s words, Veritas chose not to answer, leaving the young dragon to her thoughts alone. Grunts of pain and the sounds of battle pulled their fragmented attention back to the ordeal at hand, and the God of Justice turned away to do his part.

“Now isn’t the time for this, Enthyskana.”

Enthy’s grip upon the handle of her axe tightened before once again turning slack. Light once again coalesced at her fingertips as she prepared the beginnings of a spell, but her eyes remained downcast.

“Bind this sinner so they shall trespass no more.”

The young dragon locked her sights upon the figure of the unfamiliar version of Eleanor who stood by Nergal’s side. Neither sadness nor hesitation wet her eyes, leaving behind only apathetic acceptance and a gaze that looked upon the white-haired demon as if they were an enemy.

Golden chains burst out from below Hajun, this time aiming to entangle and burrow into flesh, delivering a painful bite rather than simply wrapping around the target’s body like usual.

“As you wish, Veritas,”

she whispered under her breath.

Her hands no longer shook.

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Interactions:

Mentions:

“I can’t believe you’re coworkers with that guy.”


Standing amongst her fellow heroes, Nel put her hands on her hips and puffed out her cheeks. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure what was going on anymore. One second, everyone was making kung pao chicken out of Nergal with a flurry of coordinated attacks. Next second, Eleanor got yoinked down the well! By the time Nel caught up with everyone, Eleanor was a man and Nergal was a smug bastard and Enthy was having an angsty moment!


Nel dropped her arms back to her sides and pouted. She was feeling some angst coming on herself. ”So we gotta beat up Eleanor real good? Or… off her?”


Beside her, Shiva huffed disdainfully. “Have I taught you nothing, you little dunce?”


Nel looked around at the gods battling alongside their heroes, then squinted up at Shiva. “You haven’t done much in this fight, have you?”


“I can pop your head like a balloon,” Shiva threatened, glaring back down at Nel. Without another word, he stepped a few paces away from Nel, then took on a familiar position across from her.


”Inviting me for a dance?” Nel giggled. She didn’t miss a beat when Shiva commenced the Tandava. It’d been a long, long time since they danced together. The last time was when Nel was still learning the steps, and Shiva danced across from her while she tried to copy him like a mirror. Now, they were partners in a shared mission to deliver blissful salvation.


The duo’s steps brought the well alight with flames. Nel’s movements were brisk and bright, and her heart and mind equally so. After all, how could one expel darkness without the most radiant light?


Shiva had none of the good humor that his champion did. Centuries of scorn and antagonism were now brought to physical form by the ferocious flourish of his toned body.


Twin pillars of inferno assailed their foes, one seeking to liberate, and the other to vanquish.

 

[Kibaa]

Bastet
Mother of Cats

Khatiy grimaced, landing with a thud and a splash-- having dove forward in an attempt to grab on to Eleanor's hand, only to hand face-first into the wet floor. Her features frowned deeply with feline wrinkles of frustration, clawing the ground. As a very brief moment of silence is shared between Paimon, herself, and Azaera, the sound of Eleanor's scream vaguely echoing from deep below the surface. It was clear that despite the party's combined efforts, despite having succesfully separated Nergal from Pheonix.. the enemy was still alive. Something had taken Eleanor. The time had come, to venture forth. To breach the Well.
...

Bastet grimaced as her beast senses alerted her of what was going on. Nergal was gone, but not defeated. Only missing. Glancing around at those within her barrier, she could not help but feel out of place, her duty to protect the injured heroes from Nergal's evil already complete. The Plague God's projectiles would have collided with her barrier only to fall meekly to the ground like duds, disarmed bombs, their evil properties nullified by Bastet's magic. The Goddess thumped her staff into the ground, dispelling the barrier as well as the lion-sized sphinxes that upheld the barrier. She felt out of place here. Confessions of love, injured human mages that had no business being here. Though she had completed her duty to protect humanity from evil forces, both natural and unnatural, Bastet knew that her guidance was immediately needed elsewhere. "Lord Wanga, I trust you have everything under control here."

...

Khatiy stared at her own reflection in the water after Paimon had already leapt in. Rohen, Nel, the heroes showed no hesitation in diving through the well to reach their comrade. Bastet stood there too, next to the Usaaman, staring down solemnly at the water. No words were spoken between each other, only silence. And then, as Bastet's eyes squinted furiously at the water, detecting the evil that was manifesting deep below, where Eleanor was taken, her hand gripped angrily around the handle of her staff. At once, the Goddess thumped her staff into the water, and without further contemplation, the rippling water consumed both Khatiy and Bastet.

...

????

A thunderous echo bursts through the inner chamber of the Well, where Nergal had taken Eleanor. Something powerful was coming through the vortex. Right then, the vortex above exploded violently for a moment, as a powerful force suddenly breaks through. Releasing a fearsome, blood-chilling roar that swept through the Chamber with divine magic, suppressing any evil energies inside, this force would reveal itself to be a great lionin entity, perhaps once a living thing, now a fossilized titan of stone and crystal, powered by the magic of the heavens. Its massive head punched through the bottom layer of the Vortex, protruding out into the chamber with abundant intention to crush whatever evil had manifested itself inside the Well. A menace so majestic and large that its body did not fit through the opening of the vortex, only able to push its head through, remaining there, the rest of its body suspended within the vortex above the room.


The entity's eyes had immediately lit up with vibrant, red celestial energy, drowning the room with a sickening ringing sound before unleashing. Bursting with anger and power, the massive feline's eyes bursted, firing a superheated solar beam of destruction right at Hajun and Nergal, intending to scorch them at once. Its very entrance into the vortex had also pushed out swathes of water onto the new battlefield, the waves of water now rapidly evaporated by Nelumba and Shiva's godly flames which cause layers of dangerous steam to momentarily surround Nergal and Hajun before quickly evaporating. The feline roared once more, this time, revealing the mastermind behind its appearance. Bastet, Mother of Cats-- who stood there in stark posture upon the stone tongue of the suspended champion, a furious expression upon her features. Beside her stood her Hero, Khatiy of Usaama, accompanied by the noble Ter Fuzen at her own side. The voice of the celestial matriarch of cats rang through the chamber with a divine echo as she stomped the end of her staff loudly upon the sphinx's tongue in a clear declaration of war. "Eleanor? Heavens.. We are honorbound to avenge her." Khatiy lamented, frowning angrily.

"Demon King Hajun! What foul necromancy has commanded your return?! By the Will of the Heavens, you were banished long ago. Your evil is not welcome in this realm-- What have you done, Nergal?!" Bastet's voice rang with uncharacteristic fury. The Goddess of Cats had not shown herself for battle for many centuries until now. Not against Tiryan, not against Golroth. It was apparent that Bastet may possess certain knowledge about Hajun that has provoked her to get involved now of all times, when she has not done so in the past. Or, worse yet, it may even be possible that Bastet had interacted with Hajun in the past. Whatever the case, Bastet's concerns were loud and clear, this was a situation that she would not leave in the hands of mere mortals. Evidently, Bastet felt that her involvement was necessary, for reasons the Heroes would likely find out sooner rather than later.

"We will not repeat King Paimon's mistakes of the past. Your name will meet its end by my hands, Hajun! Consider this chamber to be your final grave!" Bastet roared, spreading out her hands, staff in hand."

The sphinx itself bellowed with another guttural roar. Its name was Heka-Maat, the First Sphinx. Firstborn of Bastet, the legends tell of how Heka-Maat led Bastet's army against the evils of Veita in ancient times, when humans were still struggling to settle the continent peacefully. Had Heka-Maat met in battle with Hajun in the past? The beast, although now a fossil of stone and magic, seemed angered and restless to put Hajun to rest, perhaps powered by a memory of the past.

"I will not allow you to leave this Well! My angels will make sure of it!" The goddess proclaimed, as from the jaw of Heka-Maat, Bastet's guardian sphinxes would now manifest, spreading their large wings as they leapt out from Heka-Maat's mouth and took flight. Larger and more armored than they had appeared before, albeit much smaller than Heka-Maat himselfthese were the Sphinxes in their true form. Nyalon and Ter Cit, who bombard Hajun with the same solar beam that Heka-Maat had casted as they each fly to the entrances of the Well, standing guard there.

"You have been a fool if you expected your return to be met only by mortals, Demon King. And you will die a fool once more. Die!"

Bastet thrusted her staff in the direction of Hajun, channeling her heavenly energy, the power and mass that she wielded able to be felt across the entire chamber, like the pulling force of a Black Hole. This energy manifests itself in the very maw of Heka-Maat, with crackling bolts of orange energy beginning to form a visible conduit.
"... Shindwa, pepo. KOMBORA KUBWA - KUAA JOKA! (Be vanquished, Demon-- Great Dragonbane Missile!")

The room was drowned by a deafening silence, before a thunderous sonic boom bursted from Heka-Maat's maw. As Bastet fired her divine missile, a heavenly projectile of energy guided by an echanted harpoon that fired away from Heka-Maat's mechanized stone interior, zooming towards Hajun with dangerous velocity. This was when Khatiy clapped her hands together, lowering herself and planting them on Heka-Maat's tongue, channeling her own mana.

"We will decide this battle before the enemy has a chance to power up! Fusion Art: Silver Armory! [Metal]" Channeling her mana through Heka-Maat's body, Khatiy proceeds to echant the flying harpoon with a powerful silver coating, enhancing its capability to inflict damage upon evil targets. "Grand Metal Fusion: Golden-Flame Alloy!" A superheated boom emanates from the heroes position as Bastet's projectile would suddenly ignite with great Golden Flames, powered by Bastet's own celestial elements, but also by Khatiy's rare Golden Flame mana, intent on delivering a powerful blow to Hajun to set the tone of battle early.
As the Dragonkiller Harpoon finished its trajectory, it would produce a grand explosion, with the hopes that Enthyskana's chains would ensure a direct hit, and hopefully provide an opportunity for Nel and Shiva to consume the enemy once and for all with their flames, perhaps saving Eleanor in the process -- Although Bastet and Khatiy seemed to be under the impression that Eleanor was gone, or that destroying Hajun was more important than potentially saving Eleanor.

Khatiy's eyes tilt to glance at Bastet for a moment as they endure the smoke of the harpoon's impact. "Mama Bastet.. Wewe na Bwana Heka-Maat mlikuwa wapi wakati wa vita dhidi ya Golroth? Labda ungeweza kumuua kwa uwezo huu. (Mother Bastet.. Where were you and Lord Heka-Maat during the battle against Golroth? Perhaps you would have been able to slay him with this power.") Bastet glanced back, lowering her staff. "Mimi na wewe tutamshughulikia Golroth muda ukifika, Bibi Khatiy. Tafadhali, mzingatie Hajun. Ni lazima tuhakikishe anakomeshwa hapa na sasa. (You and I will deal with Golroth when the time comes, Lady Khatiy. Please, concentrate on Hajun. We must ensure he is stopped here and now.")

"Basi mimi nakuachia Mfalme Pepo wewe Mama, nitakabiliana na Nergal sambamba na Mfalme Paimon, na tukibahatika labda Arrian, Suzuki, Azaera na hao wengine wakaungana nasi. Je, Tiberius aliuawa? (Then I leave the Demon King to you, Mother. I will face Nergal alongside King Paimon, and if we are fortunate, perhaps Arrian, Suzuki, Azaera and the rest of them will join us. Was Tiberius killed?")

"Kijana Nakayama aliweza kumponya. Lenga akili yako sasa, Malkia mdogo. Bwana Shiva na Bwana Veritas na mimi tutamfukuza Hajun mara moja na kwa wote. (Young Nakayama was able to heal him. Focus your mind now, young Sultan. Lord Shiva and Lord Veritas and I will banish Hajun once and for all.")

Khatiy continued the conversation no further as the smoke began to settle, reaveling the chain of the harpoon which was connecting the Harpoon itself, wherever it landed, to the mechanism inside of Heka-Maat. Khatiy bursted with energy at once, channeling her inner power, feline ears sprouting out of her cranium, dangling with long, royal earrings, as lionin fangs now decorated her mouth's features. Reaching for her sistrum, she rang it loudly, settling her eyes upon Nergal like a predator homing in on her prey. Ter Fuzen was the first to pounce forward, beginning to sprint down the chain towards Hajun and Nergal with hunger and fury. Right behind him, a group of old friends now make their appearance, as eight mighty lions spring forth from Heka-Maat's jaw as well. These were Khatiy's monsters-- The Azuzema Clan. Like their prince, Ter Fuzen, they were dressed in long, brown Usaaman cloaks, each one adorned in many bits of bronze jewelry denoting their heritage as one of the Noble Lion Clans of Usaama. Equipped with sharpened bronze attachments at their fangs and claws, it was almost cruel, the way the Usaamans had transformed these noble beasts into weapons of war. At the very least, these eight lions were what was left of the Azuzema Clan, because, as the party may remember, most of the Azuzema Clan was slain in battle by Tiryan's forces on that fateful day when Arlux was killed too. They were what remained of Ter Fuzen's sons, but it only meant their hunger for vengeance was even greater. For the moment, they were all chained with a leash, all 9 of which Khatiy held in both hands.

"Obey me, Azuzema!" Savage, chill-inducing roars filled the chambers as the clan descended upon Nergal with blind wrath, Khatiy clasping her hands once more to amass more mana, pressing the edges of the 9 leashes together. "Sage Art: Beast Armory..." The Sultan chanted, channeling her mana through the harpoon's chain to reach her lions, armoring them with a thick layer of Mana Armor styled in the fashion of ancient Alkebu-lan armor. Her black Sage tattoos rippled through the features of her face now, spiraling down through her back and shoulders. "Tear the enemy asunder! Savannah Art: Sacred Beast Charge!" Releasing the leashed, Khatiy fueled her companions with her magic, enabling them to suddenly lunge and launch themselves at Nergal like rockets through the air, their mana armor igniting with Golden Flame. "Fuse!" She poured her mana into them, controlling this orchestra of flaming lions, all of them diving head-first for Nergal, bombarding him as they would explode with Golden Flame upon impact. Seeking to claw and bite him apart right afterwards, but the true objective of this technique was to attempt to wrap down Nergal in Golden Flame chains, their leashes, taking inspiration from Enthyskana and Veritas. These chains were not embued with any kind of suppression magic like Enthyskana's, rather it was Khatiy's attempt at locking down the enemy through brute force and offensive magic of her own.

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions:
Mentions: Nessi

One after another the heroes chained together their valiant efforts like the constellations under the canvas of twilight. It was a testament to the strength and cunning of Nergal that he was able to stand before such power and unity alone, even with the Phoenix in his possession. However, it was also a testament to their growth that together, they could even push back a god. Then finally, like a comet, Eleanor streaked across that same canvas as she always had. It was strange, for a moment Aaxir thought he saw Arlux in her place, but thr thought did not bring the aroma of sweet nostalgia. Aaxir's heart sank a bit, she was always running ahead of him; truly fearless in all areas of life and he couldn't help but feel as if he was falling behind. It was as if so many were racing to take her place. He had to catch up...he couldn't let her become the next Arlux.

The Phoenix was finally set free and Nergal was no longer a threat, but something was wrong. Like honey falling from a hive, time came to a dripping halt, a dream too sweet, a victory too good to be true.
"Eleanor," Aaxir shouted before taking off after her immediately. Why was it always like this? Why was he always chasing her shadow? Why did he even care? Aaxir's imagination was his own worst enemy, for with each ticking second Aaxir could only imagine the fate of Eleanor and Nergal. She wouldn't lose...not now, or at least that is what he told himself. Nevertheless, the infinite power of one's own imagination could not hold a candle to the finite power of reality. Aaxir lost his breath, his eyes widened in disbelief though his heart knew that the monster before him was Eleanor. Everything about her appearance was a grotesque characture of who she was even down to her expression. The sinister aura that exuded from her signaled that this was no longer a mortal entity, but a demonic replacement with the smell of death all around him. Aaxir could only remain frozen as time left him behind. To his surprise his comrades immediately launched attack after attack against the monster that was now Eleanor. Perhaps they sensed the danger the mysterious entity represented, but this was still Eleanor. What if they killed her? Why couldn't he lift his sword?

"That is Hajun. Even though I am the most beautiful, bountiful, and wisest goddess of the entire pantheon, I have limited knowledge of the god killer known as Hajun. One thing is certain, you are no longer dealing with that stain known as Nergal. If you are to battle, you will have to go all out...luckily, he appears to not be at full strength. If he was, you would be dead."

"But...Eleanor what if I-"

"I won't sugarcoat it. You will have to prepared to kill her if need be. We cannot allow Hajun to grow to full strength."

"..........No"

"Arhghgk, oh my chest! Breathe Pele, breathe. Um...E-excuse me? Aaxir, darling, I just so eloquently explained that this isn't an ene-"

"No"

"Wh-what are you five? You can't just "nah" reality!"

"Eleanor is in there. I can tell. She wouldn't let some obscure god take over her body. The very thought is comical."

"WELL I beg to differ because she quite obviously did!"

"I'll win on my terms........Eleanor! There's no way you're losing to this has been! I won't accept it!"

"Oh for Pele's sake...FINE. I mean if anyone could pull it off, it would certainly be MY chosen hero! Oh that will really stick it to my sist- ahem...Aaxir, You have my blessing, go save the reckless woman."

"Consider it done."

That was still Eleanor. Despite what he said, fear crept into the fissures of his heart. Nevertheless, the only thing worse than having to kill Eleanor with his own hand was the thought of this sick God piloting Eleanor's body like some puppet. He couldn't help but recall the Eleanor who was lying helplessly on the cool stones of the prison. Perhaps she was in that state now. Alone, lost in darkness consumed by her own despair...At that time what she needed the most was someone to offer their hand and help her. Instead, Aaxir chose venomous words to snuff out whatever light she had left, something he still regrets. This time will be different. He won't let her deal with this alone and when she wakes up, he would be the one offering his hand so she could stand once again.

Aaxir let out his battle cry before flying toward Hajun. Emerald sparks grew into a swell to consume the Obsidian blade he wielded proudly while his scales blackened signaling his divine synchronization. He weaved through and around the various attacks launched toward Hajun, before circling to a blind spot to land a heavy strike that would also consume the enemy in his dragon flames.

"Eleanor, wake up! "

 

[Midrick]

Lower Empire (Instrumental)

Arrian Dreagher

Arrian's form was battered back by Nergal's counterattack, remaining upright but sliding backwards several meters. Gritting the teeth of his iron form, Arrian charged back into the fray as he threw himself at Nergal in an attempt to keep the plague god occupied. His efforts however were in vain as Nergal bypassed the front line of the heroes and attacked the the spell casters, both heroes and academy students who accompanied them. A combination of attacks and diversions by Han Xiangzi, Freyr, Mei, a newly risen Tiberius, and all else who were engaged sent Nergal reeling. Arrian began to rise, but a his limbs refused to obey his command as the fires in and around his body dimmed and sputtered, his from returned to that of his normal self. immediately he fell to one knee, Nergal's rot had been halted by the divine fires of Cu Chulainn's power that was poured into Arrian, but the damage was done. Taking a few moments to gather his strength, Arrian suddenly realized that the ride side of his vision was occluded.

"What's wrong?" Cu Chulainn's voice, usually boisterous and dripping with sarcasm had turned to one of abject concern as he quickly returned to Arrian's side, placing his hand on his kneeling champion's shoulder and lowering himself to Arrian's level.

"Cu... I can't see..." Arrian muttered sluggishly, removing his right hand from the side of his face that had been sliced by one of nergal's missile. Cu Chulainn's features drew up into a cringe at the sight of the damage. the decay had spread to encompass the upper part of his jaw and the rot had attacked his eye. the organ had turned a milky white with blotches of blackend, coagulated, blood speckled throughout the sclera. The iris was faded and sagged, the muscles that controled it having died sometime while they were synchronized, the ocular organ utterly decimated.

Cu Chulainn cursed, Arrian had burned a significant amount of mana while utilizing the second of their divine forms, the rot had been halted significantly in other areas, but the eye was too far gone and seemed to be host for Nergal's malady to continue spreading. In that moment Cu Chulainn realized what would need to happen to keep his champion in the fight.

As Paimon and Eleanor battered Nergal together, Cu Chulainn lead Arrian away from the immediate battle towards where Rohen had emerged from the waters below them.

"We both know it would be pointless to waste mana stymieing the damage, its already to far gone..." Cu said in a grave tone as he reached towards Arrian's boot, where a dagger was stored. Drawing the small blade, Cu began heating the blade with divine magic.

"Just get it out..." the feverish nausea prevented him from saying much more, but Arrian began to clench his jaw and hold himself steady as Cu Chulainn placed his hand on the top of his head and peeled his decayed eyelid open.

"Odin sacrificed his eye for knowledge once upon a time, But im not certain any of the lessons I've taught will get through that thick skull of yours." Cu Chulainn admonished, hardness replacing the concern in his voice as his grip tightened around the dagger, preparing to excise the source of the disease. "Offer yours for strength instead, for the will and resolve to end this battle and all to come for the promise of a better tomorrow... Remember what you've learned today so we don't have to repeat this procedure again, I'd rather not make a habit of this."

Arrian's vision went white in his remaining eye, the pain itself exquisite in its intensity even though most of the cells and nerves were gripped by necrosis. A strangled scream tore its way through his throat as Cu Chulainn flicked his wrist with divine persicion and severed the ocular muscles and nerve, allowing the putrescent orb to fall free from the socket. Any grogginess was banished as Arrian tried to focus on breathing to distract himself from the aggressive burn in where his right eye used to be, Cu Chulainn meanwhile tore part of Arrian's sleeve to fashion a makeshift bandage to cover the vacant hole. As this took place, Azaera's realm destroying axe shattered the cage containing Phoenix, and Nergal was forced back. Despite the dazzling display of power and might, it seemed even without Phoenix empowering, Nergal was one persistent bastard. Attempting to respond to Paimon's call for aid Arrian stood, but his weakened body betrayed him once more, only managing a few uncoordinated stumbles before Eleanor was dragged under the water into the well of wishes.

"Fuck!" Arrian's cry echoed in the cavern, consternation setting in. What had been supposed to be a simple task had been a headache at every turn. And now even after fighting a god there was still more to do. the pain in his eye faded now from a vibrant burn to a dull throb, ever present and aching but still enough to agitate. Arrian silently cursed Nohea and resolved to take the man's other arm as recompense for the utter shit storm he had thrown them into, the imagined violence soothing his growing intemperance with the promise of reprisal. With the partial return of his strength, and deciding that he wouldn't be outdone by his compatriots, Arrian lowered himself into the crystalline waters and with a deep inhalation and descended to the Well.

Arrian emerged drenched and landed on his feet, greeting him was the sight of Rohen, Enthyskana, Nel, Shiva, and Aaxir all attacking someone who looked eerily similar to Eleanor. Seeing the raw power displayed in their attacks, it didn't take a genius to decipher that whoever this mystery addition was, they were a bigger threat than Nergal at the moment. As he took stock of the situation, his eye lingered on Enthy, something was wrong with her. Her eyes seemed dead, laced with apathetic dispassion, the light that once was had gone, replaced by a yawning nothingness that could threaten to swallow someone whole if they became used to giving in to the darker corners of their mind. Arrian would know, as he had become quite adept at it during the time when the heroes were separated. To see your enemy not as a living being, but as simply obstacle to be destroyed whatever way you saw fit was the first step on a descent into a place that would see you warped into shadow of what made you who you were, a place where you killed the parts of yourself that sought resolution in ways other than the extreme to better sharpen the killer instincts within into the keenest edge they could be.

As much as he wanted to say something to her, now wasn't the time to wax philosophical, Arrian was injured and nearly spent, and he would be more hindrance than help with whatever Aaxir and the rest of the more able bodied were engaging at this moment, but that didn't mean he was out of the fight just yet. Arrian coalesced his remaining mana into bringing forth his ace of spades, a wound was rent into the fabric of space and time adjacent to Arrian, just large enough to plunge an arm into. He planted his sword into the stone tip first, embedding it for later reclamation as a he inserted his right arm into the aether, his fingers brushing against finding purchase upon his prize. Arrian withdrew a crimson spear crackling with eldritch energy, the tear in between the material and immaterial world closing as he did. He walked slowly until he stood beside Khatiy as he held the Gae Bolg, spear tip pointed downwards, and prepared himself for the coming fight.

"I'll follow your lead on this one, Usaaman, but when the time comes, He's mine..." Arrian said as he leveled and pointed the spear at Nergal, A baleful red pulsed intermittently through the divine weapon like a malign heart beat, the same energy began to light the iris of Arrian's eye and the empty socket covered by the bandage.

Mentions: Pretty much everyone
Interactions: Kibaa

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

His arm wreathed in hard shadows, Tiberius breathed deep. The cold, night wind shrieked as it passed over him, knifing across his exposed chest and snatching at the ivory locks of his head. Their valiant efforts, vindicated, resulted in the Phoenix's tremendous and overdue liberation. The combination of their attacks dealt a blow to a God, it was almost difficult for Tiberius to resist that urge. A surge of satisfaction was stemmed, the pride of a blazing heart momentarily snuffed out, for the gladiator knew, entwined with his Goddess in spirit, that this perilous battle was not concluded. Attuned as they were, Goddess and Gladiator sensed the fickle, shifting tide. His dim azures now riven with divinity, gazed across the verdant lands of the Well. Like a falling star streaking down from a starless night sky, Eleanor's spirit sundered beyond repair. They heard Aaxir's cry, his shout reverberating. Disturbing. Revolting. His electric blue gaze fixed Eleanor, watching his friend's body be mangled; from the creaking of bones, the skin on her battle-hardened face sag and tighten, the musculature in her chest contorting into an unnatural shape, to the way her fingers snap, lengthen into someone else's. Despite Tiberius' stoicism, he felt the keenest sense of revulsion since his recruitment of their holy covenant. In fact, the sight alone reminded him of the defiled heroes whose cold bodies became the hosts for a parasitic corruption, their bloody corpses a testament to the perverseness they defied.

The brutal, merciless scene before him provided a strange assurance. It gave him focus.

The shadows trailed from his arm, wafting up and down strangely, Tiberius lifted his hand. He clenched his fist, closing his eyes tight. His fist shook. For a moment, his muscles become suffused with the potency of the celestial mind. For a moment, the confines of his mind are expanded as he merges one with the Manifestation of the Cosmos. But, the union did not last. "Still enfeebled. Nergal's assault." The gladiator spoke aloud, voice possessed of a glacial coldness, a hardness like ice. "Mmmmm, indeed, my dear Gladiator. However, fret not, it shan't be forever." Her illustrious voice rang out inside — deep, alluring, gracing his soul with the liberating warmth of a summer's breeze on his back. "It is heartening to see you stand tall once again." Tiberius paused before replying, letting the howling wind be his voice for a moment. "It was sobering." "Oh, yes, yes. Especially with how drunk you've been, my prized Gladiator." Qin trailed off, a phantom of a smile parted Tiberius' scarred lips. "We'll discuss that later. For now, who is this?" The gladiator gestured towards this new malefactor.

"It must be seen to be believed." Qin spoke, her voice coloured ominously. Tiberius felt a raking motion at the back of his head as Qin once again subsumed a position within the folds of his mind. Her svelte fingers pierce, puncturing deep. His eyes saw not the battlefield before him, but things long since forgotten. When it stopped, his breath caught and his hand swam up, messaging his temple. He almost reeled from the psychic transference. Eventually Tiberius nodded. It had been a foe unlike any other, even Nergal's diabolical deviance did not equal his master's monstrous nature. He emanated a black, aching presence since his manifestation, growing thicker with the tick of each second.

Regardless, the path forward had been clear in order to free Eleanor, they must fight her captor here and now. Not simply for her sake. Not simply for theirs, but the trembling balance of an unstable World hinged on their success.

There was a metallic thump and a heavy thud of a maul being shouldered behind the gladiator. He didn't turn, innately knowing who it was behind him. For a few long seconds, the Gladiator and the Night's Warden locked eyes, saying nothing. Without a word, Tiberius placed a gloved hand on Polux's pauldron. And the dread giant returned in kind, wrapping a gauntlet around the man's shoulder. Shadows, as thick as black smoke, poured forth from the pair, enwrapping them in its obfuscating darkness. They moved.

Tiberius' grip on his spatha tightened with a subconscious fervor, his mind steeled by his discipline, his Goddess brook no assistance this time. He had not required it. In this hallowed place, the morass of shadows shifted about, striding through the rank-filled air. On one side, Tiberius emerged. Spatha blade hurtled, trailing streams of etheric darkness in its wake, towards Hajun in tandem Aaxir, whose obsidian weapon suffused wholly, a conductor, jade energies that snapped like fire.

Polux, ever impervious and revenge-hungry, assisted Khatiy and Arrian's efforts against the wretched plague God. There would be no greater satisfaction than to stamp out this virulent vermin vainly delighting in misery dolled out by hands, the titan shall savour it.



Interactions: LazyDaze (Aaxir), Kibaa (Khatiy), Midrick (Arrian);
Mentions: Nessi (Nergal/Eleanor - Hajun);

 

[Zariel]

Azaera and Inanna reaped the reward for their combined efforts, Phoenix's freedom, the sweet fruit of their labour. But their moment of victory was fleeting.

A chilling wind swept through the Well of Origin, carrying with it a sense of impending dread. The water rippled anxiously, and the ground seemed to tremble underfoot. Inanna's eyes narrowed as she sensed a dark, familiar presence approaching.

Demon King Paimon, The God Slayer.

While he now referred to himself as Hajun, he was still as sick and twisted as ever. Except, something was off. He felt... weaker.

Azaera’s reptilian eyes fixed on Hajun. The vessel he inhabited was a twisted, grotesque imitation of Eleanor. The resemblance was a mockery, a cruel joke.

"That form... It's holding him back. He isn't at his full strength," Inanna remarked with a sense of urgency. "We must strike him at once before he completely assimilates into Eleanor's body." The Wayward Blade now had soulless eyes, and she was shrouded in a dark aura that pulsed with malevolent energy.

The sight of her dear friend being controlled by a fiend ripped open old wounds. It dragged Azaera back into the depths of her own haunted memories, a time when she herself had been a puppet under the thrall of the Banished Ones. They had used the cursed crown to bend her formidable power to their vile will, forcing her to commit unspeakable atrocities.

Echoes of those dark days thundered in her mind. She could still hear the desperate cries of the innocent as her flames consumed their homes, the crackling of burning wood, and the screams of lives abruptly snuffed out. She remembered the sensation of helplessness, of her own teeth being used against her will to bring about death and destruction. The images of ravaged towns and charred bodies seared into her conscience, reminding her of the brutality of her past sins.

But amid the torment of these memories, she found sanctuary in one particular encounter—the memory of her liberation. She recalled that fateful day in the Monastery. It was Aliza who had shattered the crown that shackled Azaera, breaking the hold of the Banished Ones. In that moment, Azaera felt the chains of control fall away, and for the first time in ages, she was free.

I will find you again, one day, my dear friend... the she-dragon reminisced, as she remembered the reason she first set out on this journey, which led her to reunite with her former companions.

And at last, the final memory she relived was of her revenge.

With a roar that echoed through the rubble and broken hall, Azaera launched herself at the prophet. Her massive body coiled around him with lightning speed, trapping him in her crushing embrace. The prophet's sneer turned to a look of panic as he struggled against her powerful coils.

"You thought you could control me!" Azaera hissed, tightening her grip. "Your fate was sealed the moment you adorned my head with that crown."

The prophet tried to summon his dark magic, but Azaera's fury was unstoppable. She relished the sound of his squeals and pleas for mercy. His voice trembled with fear as she constricted him, her amethyst eyes blazing with a thirst for retribution. She glared into his fear-filled eyes, savouring his terror, before devouring him whole.

The dragoness snapped back.

She spotted Aaxir, the first to hurl himself at the new enemy. There was an unusual determination in his eyes, though, he appeared troubled, an inner turmoil that he fought to keep at bay. And in a streak of darkness, Tiberius followed closely after the red dragon.

Wary of their new foe, Azaera turned to her goddess. "Inanna, can you assist the gladiator and Aaxir face off against Hajun? I will help the others deal with Nergal. My flames are a potent weapon against that rodent's attacks."

"Understood. I'll see what I can do," Inanna answered resolutely. She reached above her head, her fingers curling around the air as she summoned her Unbreakable Scimitar. The weapon appeared in her grasp, its golden hilt gleaming with divine power. As soon as her hand closed around it, a whirling sandstorm engulfed the surrounding area, the winds howling with a ferocity that matched the goddess’s own warrior spirit.

"Inanna..."

"Yes?"

Azaera looked over, worried, at the crazed Aaxir, and then back at the Goddess of War. Always so reckless, she sighed.

"Please... protect him."

Inanna simply nodded.

With a burst of superhuman speed, Inanna raced across the battlefield in a blur as she sprinted toward Aaxir and Tiberius. She launched herself high into the air, her figure vanishing into the sun's blinding light. Using the sun as her cover, Inanna dived down at Hajun, her body twisting violently through the air like a spinning blade. Her descent was swift and silent, the element of surprise her greatest weapon. She cut through the air with lethal grace, her scimitar aimed directly at the God Slayer.

Meanwhile, Azaera focused her attention on the looming threat of the Plague God. Her serpentine form shifted with a predatory grace, her piercing eyes fixed on the malevolent figure spreading decay and corruption in his wake.

"You dared to defile the sacred Phoenix! And now you revive a Demon King! ... For that, we will make you sssuffer, vermin!" Azaera hissed, her scales rippling with anger.

Summoning Inanna's Fury, the black dragon unleashed an empowered roar, her voice blending with the divine power of the goddess of war. The ground shook and the air trembled as the sound waves rippled towards Nergal, intent on blasting him away.

Inhaling deeply, she then exhaled a torrent of black fire, scorching the earth beneath her. She slithered through the flames, her dark scales absorbing and reflecting the heat. The fire clung to her, wrapping her in a burning shield that danced with an ethereal yet terrifying beauty.

Several of her allies rallied at her side: Arrian, The Berserker; Khatiy, The Sultan of Usaama; and Pollux, The Warden Of The Outer Night.

Azaera looked back at the rest behind the frontline, each one in turn, and in the end, her eyes settled on Enthyskana. Her gaze lingered on the younger dragon for a moment, before she faced back toward her opponent.

Wreathed in her own deadly flames, she roared fiercely again, challenging the Plague God.

AZAERA​