The Devil Mind : Prologue

I hear you.

Your feverish prayer, of which I am tired of.

Salvation from death, you wish for?

Patient, you lot are not.

You no longer pay attention to my Disciples anymore, yet you cry out to me.

You lot could have called upon any other deity-nay I am the recipient of your hypocrisy.

I, EMROY, AM YOUR PATRON GOD.

YOU HAVE ENJOYED IMMEDIATE RESULTS!

YOU HAVE REAPED THE BENEFITS OF MY BLESSINGS!

YOU HAVE SPAWNED GENERATIONS OF MY DISCIPLES!

YOU HAVE BASKED IN THE SPOILS OF WAR!

YOU HAVE STOPPED THE FLOW OF CRIME!

BEHOLD THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR DISRESPECT AND IMPATIENCE! YOUR LACK OF ADHERENCE TO THE WARNINGS OF YOUR BETTERS! YOUR COMPLACENCY, FORGETFULNESS AND FAITHLESSNESS HAVE INSPIRED ME TO DELIVER A MOST TIMELY BLESSING! YOUR BEST BLESSING EVER!

I gave you war so you may become strong and stay strong.

I gave you madness so you may remember your mortality and fight till you die.

I gave you crime so you may have reason to purge heresy and refine yourselves.

I gave you death so you may honor life and in doing so, have the greatest death.

But you have spat on my teachings.

And your walls that you have fortified-feeling so damn safe inside, your assumed superiority, stolen wealth, illegitimate connections and heritage, reinforcing your own agendas, destroying the glory of nations-everything you have achieved shall be burned to ashes. Your foundation of stone and steel shall melt and swallow your nation and people whole just as molten volcanoes have consumed your tribute evil-doers.

Just because I am the god of war, crime, death and madness, doesn't mean I am unjust.

Perhaps next time the unfaithful call to me, they will remember you and shut the fuck up for they have not the privilege for calling upon me with such intimate prayer. May my Disciples have mercy upon you-for I won't.

Good luck…you're fucked!

And you'll all be wondering where my Disciples are as you die.

Tall, dark grey walls which serve as the eternal bulwarks for this nation. A once mighty nation of people who used to be lionhearted. Behind these walls are people who prefer peace in contrast to their dark history. People who prefered to accommodate and compromise in the spirit of cooperation and sparing judgement for the weak, slow and dumb. This nation of a solid purple banner now merely scares away the small threats. Sections of the weathered walls show signs of recent battles and skirmishes.

One skirmish in particular that just ended. A nearly ancient warrior who wields a wild weapon with finesse and confidence.

She slowly licks her lips and takes a moment to adjust her black bow as she frowns.

She yearns for satisfaction. A great flourish to finish the day…

But it never came.

The opposition Rory fought today weren't enough to get her off. It will be night and although their enemies grow bolder every year, none have dared to risk a full-scale battle. With a few flicks of her right hand, she dusted off a spot on her outfit.

A slow, deep sigh. Her eyes closed as she remembered the days of old. Ye olden days of yesteryear. Glorious battles of grand scale, so much risk and reward. Growing by combating challenging opponents, her edge never dulling. The minds of generals and crafty sergeants proved to be a worthy weapon against the reach and weight of her beloved halberd.

"See how they've taken those trenches? They've revealed themselves and can't easily defend or fall back. They've created a bulge in the frontline which can easily collapse with them surrounded."

A knight commander in dark purple armor was speaking to the field marshal.

"We charge their flanks with mages forming the second line. We make the Dragon Claw formation, collapse their ranks and isolate the enemy's second in command. With Ithurdal Ur captured their moral should drop low enough to force an unconditional surrender."

"And if they keep fighting, demoralized troops are fodder."

"Exactly."

Suddenly a new voice is raised.

"Then I will engage the bulge directly."

A small girl, a priestess of Emroy stepped behind the knight commander.

"New halberd?"

"Yes ser. Newly commissioned halberd. I will have little difficulty handling the enemy officer at the trenches."

A wicked grin flashed upon the lolita's face as her tongue licked her lips. The red frills and black dress gently sway in the wind.

"Well, have at them then. ALL SQUADS! MOVE TO DRAGON CLAW FORMATION AND CRUSH THEM! ISOLATE THE BULGE!"

While the troops moved to rout the enemy, the priestess charged up the center as she laughed and smiled. Her new weapon felt just right. After one hundred years she believed she found the perfect weapon suited for her.

It is a spectacle.

Defying expectations.

The reach and force to shatter hopes.

And the wielder to complete the set-drastic difference in size.

Grace and brutality.

Rory opens her eyes and now it is nighttime. The moon has risen part way into the sky and clouds block the stars tonight. No wind, somewhat humid and no chance of rain. Off in the distance is a thunderstorm. Streaks of lightning ignited the grass and trees but from this distance they're just blurred colors at best.

Well, damn. Rory really wanted to see the stars tonight. Looks like she'll have to settle for tomorrow then. But, still thankful for the moon and sky. Better than a red sky filled with smoke and the scent of her people's burnt flesh.

She knelt for a silent prayer thanking Emroy before leaping away from her little stone perch.

AN: I'm tired of reading the same shit over and over again. Time to fuck the status quo in the ass! Naysayers be damned.