Chapter 3 Defiance
As Sparda continued to gather forces to join the rebellious army, Mundus, on the other side of Hell, heard the words of Argosax in his mind, "Loyal Mundus, see me now…" Suddenly, bright blue lightning and orange flames surrounded Mundus who was thrown into a transport tunnel of sorts, being unwillingly brought before his master. As he was flung through the abyss, the only thought in Mundus' mind was that Argosax might know of the upcoming revolution. Unlike most of the demons, devils and oddities in Hell, however, he didn't care; not being one for cowardice, Mundus embraced this inevitable confrontation.
A large cloud of red energy hovered and swirled above a dark throne of skulls, and through the blue lightning came Mundus, falling to the ground.
He looked up at the enormous throne before him; the clouds seemed to bleed fire as Argosax materialized himself as a large creature with a corona of gigantic fiery wings and a faceless countenance adorned with horns. The fire flowed and ebbed as the body of Argosax the Chaos.
Mundus lowers himself to one knee as Argosax sits on his throne. Indolent cur…Mundus thinks…
Argosax gestures with his hand, opening his palm up towards Mundus, "Rise…" Mundus brings himself back up. "…..Servant," Argosax finishes his command as Mundus hides his contempt. Argosax sees Mundus' feelings, and uses them against him.
"You called for me." Mundus speaks in a dry tone, in the form of a statement, not a question. It was clear that Mundus was having a hard time holding his temper and arrogance, while at the same time Argosax was enjoying every second of it.
"Yes, I did. You are my most powerful and loyal servant, Mundus; an elite devil indeed…. That is why I've called you to me." Every time Mundus is called 'servant', he loses a little more control of himself but remains calm, playing his part.
"This throne, the throne of Hell, unlike the powerful kingdom it reigns over, is a delicate thing. So many of my servants wish for it…look upon it with lust and envy." Argosax trails off, "Ah, two of my favorite sins…"
"I'm sorry, I lost myself." Mundus grows tired of Argosax's babbling. "The power of this throne is diminishing. I can feel that there are some who wish to seize it from me, who believe that they, mere servants, have the power to do so."
Suddenly, he comes to a frightening realization; Mundus finally determines why he has been brought before Argosax. His eyes narrow slightly in concentration. So he does know, Mundus thinks. He quickly regains his calm and decides to play along.
Mundus words come out slowly yet firmly as his pride gradually begins to get the best of him, "Yes. There are some that grow tired of servitude. They require something…something to shake them out of apathy. To give them meaning…"
Argosax smiles; Mundus has played right into his trap. "And what is that something…" Argosax leans down to Mundus allowing his final words to come out as naturally as a breath of air, "…SERVANT!" He screams into Mundus' stone face sending a tremor around his great throne. Mundus' eyebrows lower and he becomes serious, ignoring his role as the proverbial servant.
"That throne will be mine…" He says under his breath.
Argosax lunges downward and grabs Mundus tightly around his body and brings him up to his like a toy and screams, "What! Did you say something?"
Red lightning begins to pulse around Mundus and the hand of Argosax. Mundus grabs the hand that covers his body, and sends demonic electricity through his King, and Argosax releases him.
Large wings sprout from Mundus' back and glow with brilliant white light. He flies up to Argosax's throat and grabs him by the chin. In an act of ultimate defiance he turns and pulls Argosax off his throne of skulls, throwing his Master to the ground.
Standing on the flaming chest of Argosax, Mundus looks into his eyes, "This throne… will be MINE!" he roars, his deep voice echoing throughout the demon world itself.
Argosax smirks and raises his hand. Mundus turns his head just in time to see a beam of power blast him directly in the center of his body, sending him hundreds of yards away. He lands, skidding along the ground and comes to a stop. Shocked by the power of Argosax and his own fallacy, he looks down to inspect himself; a large gapping hole smolders on his chest and he grunts in agony. Feeling immense pain and sudden numbness, he slumps to the ground, unconscious.
Argosax gets back to an upright stance and glares at Mundus with disgust, "You might want to get that army, if that's what you want to call it, up and running soon, Servant! I would soon grow tired of having to dispose of each of you separately…"
Sparda walks through the lowest, darkest, coldest levels of Hell, his cloven-hooves crunching icy ground. Large pillars of black and blue ice stretch into the sky. Sparda walks steadily until he hears a rush of wind above him.
His head slowly turns upward and he reaches for the handle of his sword, still clasped to his back between his wings. He turns around in slow circles, searching and observing his cold surroundings lined with sparkling glaciers. Suddenly, the noise of breaking glass and ice brings Sparda back around, his arm outstretched, his giant sword still in his hand. A moment of silence gives Sparda the opportunity to activate the sword; with a burst of demonic energy, the sword's blade extends from the handle, doubling in length and transforming into a scythe-like weapon.
He turns to face a large, reptilian demon, covered in ice and armor, lifting itself up into the air; its legs stretched downward, its arms parallel to the ground. Its body transforms into shards of ice and flies toward Sparda. He easily dodges the attacking Frost, however, the rest of clan descending upon him is another story:
Entire hordes of Frosts attack Sparda, each completely covered in ice with razor sharp claws and a long C-shaped blade on their right arm, crowned with three sharp ice shards on their shoulders. Sparda is forced to counter-attack. The irony here is that they do not fight because they are enemies; rather, they are testing themselves. The incredible speed of the Frosts gives them a definite advantage yet the agility and near flawless defense of Sparda cancels it out. As one Frost tries to pierce Sparda with its blade, he counters by spinning his blade in a circular motion, knocking the Frost away but slightly covering his own blade with the ice of the Frosts near absolute zero temperature. The Frosts and Sparda block all incoming attacks, neither side doing damage to the other.
"Mi-hork, talak ma frot!" ("Cease!") Sparda hears the demon language echo off the pillars of ice. The language of demons is a universal one, however the different clans speak in different dialects.
"Stop, let me speak with him!" Sparda stands as the Frosts back away. Sparda lifts his head in the direction of the voice as a large Frost, the clan leader, jumps down. It lands in a crouching position, and raises its body. It stands slightly shorter than Sparda appearing almost identical to the other Frosts except with more defined shards and a longer blade.
"Outsider, why do you come to this place? This exiled land?" Sparda deactivates his sword, and places it on his back.
"My name is Sparda, and…" Sparda's words are cut off by the clan leader.
"I have heard tales of you, young warrior."
Sparda continues without missing a beat, "…and I have a proposition for you and your clan. Our current King banished you here, to this place, the farthest reaches of Hell, for your disloyalty to him. You cannot possibly enjoy it here, so this is my proposition: Come to the Blood Plain tomorrow if you wish to ever leave this place. Mundus will be waiting for you there."
"The Creator?" The clan leader says, revealing his persistent loyalty to his master.
"Yes, and so will I. Be there." Sparda words come out definitive and persuasive. He turns and continues on his journey.
The clan leader speaks before Sparda is out of sight, "You speak of treachery."
"No…..I speak of revolution"
Sparda makes his way even deeper into Hell's caverns, where light does not exist. The only light visible is that of Sparda's glowing red eyes. Loud shrieks coupled with dark whispers, flow throughout this place and suddenly thousands of glowing red eyes and purple mist begin to arise from the abyss, all peering at Sparda.
Sparda speaks into the darkness, "Shadows! I know that you have been exiled here by our craven ruler. He fears that your darkness would engulf him and extinguish him, but he does not yet know the ebon terror of the Shadow clan. Meet me at the Blood Plain tomorrow if you wish to leave this place and be free to roam Hell once again. Let this be known throughout the gloom of the Underworld." Sparda's voice becomes sterns as he says his last words, "You WILL be there."
As he turns, a muted growl erupts from the fading dusk and a presence seems to remove itself from the darkness leaving nothing but empty, silent, shadows.
The army of the Rebellion was almost complete…..
