"There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery."– Dante Alighieri

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13 years ago – unknown village in Isla Centrum

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"Papaaaa!" a small, scarlet-haired girl shouted as she ran gleefully towards a tall, muscular man with the same hair color, dressed in a typical farmer's clothes.

"What is it, my cute girl Emilia?" the man, smiling, answered her as he turned around and lifted his small, six-year-old daughter up high in the air, swishing her back and forth.

"Do you like flying, my dear?" he commented as his daughter laughed joyously, stretching out her arms and swung them around whilst the sun's warmth caressed her fair skin.

"Yes! Yes, Papa, very much!" was her joyous response, enjoying the light breeze of wind that came her way as her father lifted her back up. Her laughs brought a larger smile on her father's lips.

He stopped abruptly as he heard galloping hooves and rolling wheels on the road. He placed Emilia gently on her feet again, looking around to see a familiar face.

"Hey, Nord!" an old, cackling voice shouted towards his way.

"Greetings, Yuvic." He noticed that his friend's voice was nervous with a tint of grimness whilst his face held a sorrowful frown.

"Yuvic…?"

"Oh…" Yuvic began nervously, clenching his old hands into fists and avoiding eye contact with Nord. "The Devil's armies conquered the Northern and Eastern Islands."

Nord widened his eyes in shock. The kingdoms on those islands consisted of formidable fighters and had some of the most elite mages in all of Ente Isla; they had fought against garrisons of demons before, slaying them all mercilessly. Nord had not expected them to suddenly fall to the Demon King.

"I'm…. sure the Holy Father's prayers will protect us." he shrugged nervously, desperately trying to convince himself and mainly Emilia. "Heaven will not abandon us."

Emilia, upon hearing the mention of the Devil, looked up to her father in curiosity. She had heard stories of the so-called 'Prince of Darkness', 'Lord of all evil' and whatever other names he was known as. But nobody ever spoke of his name, as if his name was so fearful that it should never be spoken.

"I… I must take my leave now, Nord.." Yuvic said, faintly seeing a few priests, clothed in white robes, approaching. "Goodbye."

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"Papa…?" Little Emilia asked, tugging her father's garments. Seeing these white-robed men scared her. "Papa, what's going on..? Who are these scary men?"

"They…" he began, finding himself hesitate as they approached the scarlet-haired girl.

"We are from the Church, little girl." one young priest finished, studying Emilia's frightened figure.

"Papa, what do they want?" she whispered, shooting a desperate glare towards her father.

"Dear… this will be very difficult to explain." Nord said curtly, caressing his daughter's hair for a moment. "Go inside the house do not leave unless I tell you to."

Emilia nodded. For since she could remember, she would always hide in fear and recoil as soon as a priest was even mentioned, which made her the subject of much scolding from the villagers because she had refused to attend Holy Mass.

"Why am I… afraid?"

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Three weeks later, little Emilia had found herself chained inside the basement of her village's parish, heavy and exhausted. She was brought only a loaf of bread and water once every day, and no one except trained clergymen from the Church were allowed near her.

Despite their attempts of kindness, Emilia found herself detesting them. Nobody was willing to answer the many questions that ran through the frightened, young girl's mind – would she ever see her father again? Would she have to be chained like this forever? Would she never see the light of day?

The place she was chained in was one of darkness, of loneliness. The clergymen treated her like the prisoner she was – no kindness, no compassion. It was as if they detested her very existence, even though she had never harmed anybody or committed a grievous sin.

Suddenly, the door in front of her was opened. A bald man in his late fifties with grey and receding hair entered her prison.

"Emilia…" he began hesitatingly, his voice showing a hint of concern.

"…"

"I… I brought you bread and water."

Emilia didn't reply. She wouldn't reply. The clergy, in chaining her away, scarred her deeply.

"Eat, child." he commanded. "You should be grateful a sinner like yourself receives food and drink."

She grit her small teeth. Sinner? She was a small child! She began to realize why she feared going to Mass.

"My father…" she breathed out. "Where… where is he!?" Her voice boomed louder, she was yanking her chains in a desperate attempt to break free and run away.

The old priest's gaze remained stoic. He scowled towards her before he forcibly made her drink the whole water at once and forcibly fed her the bread.

After he had finished his abuse, he let out one final scowl and left. Large tears formed inside Emilia's big eyes as she cried into the darkness, hoping that the darkness would understand her agony if the light was not willing to.

In anger she once more yanked her chains, screaming desperately for someone to help her, to free her from the agony she had found herself in.

A bright fire suddenly engulfed her prison, melting her chains in rapid fury, sacking her onto the ground; her mind went black.

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Chapter 9: Fire and Brimstone

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Emilia's eyes shot wide open.

She looked around, scowling in disgust. The stench of death and torture never dulled, just like the pain caused to her by this dream. It was no stranger to her.

Once more she had found herself chained up, abused, demeaned, scowled at, denied food and drink, given only when she was on the brink of death.

She had always buried the darker elements of her past into the back of her mind when she learned that the Demon King's armies had destroyed her village, killing her father in the process. And even then – her desire for revenge had always felt downright diabolical to her, as if wrath itself had overtaken her. Wrath – one of the seven deadly sins.

She had never questioned her feelings; after all, it was righteous to wish for the demise of the Devil, right? Everyone - clergy, layman, peasant, noble – they all yearned for the Demon King's demise. Emilia even more so than others. Her thirst for revenge demanded to be quenched. She would have stopped at nothing to kill the Devil with her own hands to pay him back for the loss of her father and her beloved village.

But now – she was confronted with the scary truth about what she really was. Nephilim. Angel. Demon. Especially the last part raced through her mind constantly. Demon. She was a demon. The very thing she had always fought against. It was a reality hidden in plain sight. Her diabolical desire for revenge, her outbursts of wrath, her curiousness about the Demon King – no 'holy' person would ever experience such things.

And for that reality, she was undergoing tortures unlike she had ever seen before. Physical tortures – having her nails chipped off violently, one by one; whipped and beaten until her injuries were severe; being scourged with thorns of roses blessed by the priests of the Church; even burned with fire, as if to prelude her to the pains of Hell.

An ordinary human would have died during even the faintest of the severe tortures, but Emilia survived it all – sometimes she wished she wouldn't, just to be free of the agony.

The greatest pain, however, wasn't, believe it or not, the physical torture; It was the mental agony she experienced – all alone in the darkness once more, with no one to comfort her, no one to console her, no one to show even a mustard seed-size of kindness.

To humanity, she was the Demon King's whore. To the Church, she was a demon. Demon, demon, demon. Emilia clenched her fists with all the strength she had left in her malnourished body. For the first time since her capture, tears rolled down her cheeks. No one was there to witness. No one to mock and demean her. She screeched and cried loudly with all the strength in her voice, but no cry would be able to convey the agony the scarlet woman found herself in. She sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, reeling and yanking her chains, reopening her wounds, which caused her to cry out in agony.

A perfect, big hand suddenly was placed on Emilia's mouth, silencing her screams of agony. "I can't recall permitting you to cry, whore…" a sickly-sweet, familiar voice cooed inside her ear, causing her to yank even more violently.

It was Sariel. Emilia's eyes narrowed, wanting to curse him to death for humiliating her in her weakest moment.

"I must admit, it is absolutely… intoxicating to see you, a wretched demonic creature, suffer", he began as he intentionally burned her most painful wounds with his Holy Fire, "This is only a small prelude to the agony you will suffer in the lake of fire…"

Lake of fire!? Her eyes widened. "Oh yes", Sariel chuckled darkly, "The Church has decided to burn you on the stake."

"Without a fair trial?" Emilia spat. "Is that your justice?"

Slap.

"You, concubine of the Devil, deserve no trial. Your guilt is evident." Sariel scowled in return before he smirked evilly. Oh, Emilia would love what he had to say next. "That spawn of yours will receive a more agonizing death." Emilia's hands clenched, shooting her tormentor a hateful glare.

"Pierced", he paused dramatically, "by a hundred blades right in front of your eyes."

Upon hearing that, Emilia's hands clenched so hard that her palm started to bleed.

"YOU WRETCHED MONSTER!" she jeered, recoiling at the utter depravity of the Angel of Heaven. "HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO A CHI- AAAH!"

The Holy Fire intensified, exposing Emilia's bare muscles on her back. "Ahahahahaha, yes, yes, scream, your agony is beautiful justice!" His manic laughs filled the whole room and Emilia stopped screaming. She lifted her head to look her tormentor in the eyes; her glare was so deadly that any human would have recoiled at the sight.

"Burn… in…. Hell, Sariel…" she spat as her face contorted to hatred, not being able to completely mask her pain. "Satan… he will show you the abyssal void.."

"Satan is dead." Sariel retorted, "It was I who killed him."

"You cannot taunt me with your lies.." Emilia growled, gritting her teeth. "Mark my words, you angel scum.." she snickered cruelly, "You will know Hell. Satan will be merciless with you."

Sariel was unfazed. "Your delusions are fascinating, little girl, however-"

"Lord Sariel!" he heard a faint, terrified voice coming his way. Sariel narrowed his eyes. Who dared interrupt him during his torture sessions? If it was something of no importance, he swore, he would-

"Lord Sariel… our men…" Sariel took one look at him and was utterly shocked. The man before him was one of the guards in the outskirts of the dungeon, presumably in his forties. His armor was almost entirely melted and blood and burns, particularly his left leg and his right arm, were scourged by burns.

"What happened?" The Angel inquired seriously, approaching the guardsman and grabbing him by his collar. "What makes you think I will tolerate this humiliation…?"

"Lord Sariel… it… it was a massacre…"

"Elaborate." Sariel ordered coldly.

"Two mysterious… figures… appeared before our dungeons", the guard began, "They… they burned all our men… with demonic fire…."

Emilia's eyes widened for a bit. Demonic fire? Could that mean it was-

"Nonsense", Sariel commented with a tint of fury in his voice, "I killed Satan, it can't possibly-"

"No… it was young demons… a boy.. and a girl…" the guard continued, "The boy's ability… our men collapsed… as soon as they looked into his eyes…. He buried them in their own blood…"

"Buried them in their own blood?" Sariel repeated. The guard nodded faintly.

"The girl… burned us with a black-flamed explosion…" The guard's voice increased in terror as he narrated this. "I.. and a comrade are the only survivors…"

Sariel dropped the guard violently like a sack of potatoes. "No matter", he tried to calm himself, "Whoever they are, they are no match for me."

Emilia smirked. It was refreshing to see the Archangel in distress for a change, having been on the receiving end of it until now. "Don't get your hopes up, harlot." Sariel said coldly, trying to quench any spark of hope she had. "They won't reach you."

"They… they left as soon as they killed nearly all of us…" the guard whispered towards Sariel, "It is foolish to go after them.."

"I wasn't planning to. Now shut your mouth and leave at once." Sariel boomed, kicking the poor guard out of the room.

Outskirts of the Inquisition dungeons

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Two pairs of glowing eyes, serpentine green and icy blue - demonic in nature - stared at the large tower which constituted the main building of the dungeons. Before them laid a myriad of burned, bloodied bodies, missing arms and legs.

"So these are the infamous dungeons of the Inquisition?" the female, child-like voice cooed mockingly. "I must say, I am disappointed."

"Rozaria."

The white-haired small demoness shot her comrade a sly, cocky look. "Impatient, are we, Raizel?"

"I don't like wasting time in this disgustingly human place." he scowled hatefully while he sternly gazed towards the dead bodies now displayed before him.

Displayed before them was a large wooden port, illuminated by two mounted torches on the sides. The port was morbid-looking; it was thick and dark, yet the stench of the tormented and tortured souls could faintly be smelt even outside.

"This place disgusts me." Rozaria hissed quietly. "I don't understand why the Clan Leader sent us here."

"We have no choice but to investigate." her partner commented curtly, his voice as stoic as ever. Crossing her arms, Rozaria nodded.

"She should know that making our presence known would be a very risky endeavor" Rozaria walked forward, trying to ignore the smell of the dead bodies, "especially for a trifle such as this." She shrugged in disgust. "Tch, humans."

Hidden amongst the dead bodies was a young, shivering man, having tried to hide himself from the massacre he witnessed. "Oh?" she cooed, "A survivor?"

"Interrogate him." came Raizel's order behind her. "Perhaps we can find out more."

"I already predicted who exactly is being held here", she replied, "His mind is so easy to read."

"In that case, he is completely useless to us. Kill him." Rozaria shook her head.

"Perhaps I should throw humanity a bone – just so they know how outmatched they are." she grinned sadistically, "But first, let me burn his eyes." She conjured a small, black flame in the palm of her hand and threw it in straight into the eyes of the poor surviving guardsman. As she expected, he was screaming in agony just a second later, the smell of burnt flesh once again disturbing the two demons' nostrils.

"That's enough. Let's report back before Clan Leader grows impatient."

And, like a shadow, they vanished.

The Devils Castle, Underworld

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Hundreds, thousands of demons, demons of all species were assembled below the balcony of the Devil's Castle in the demon world. Loud cheers, roars and jeers could be heard throughout the entire outer hall, right before the entrance to the Castle.

"My fellow demons", boomed the chilling – manic – voice of the Demon King, Satan Jacob, standing on the balcony as an ecstatic, sadistic grin appeared on his lips, "today is the day all of you have been anticipating."

"There he goes with his speeches…" Lucifer whispered lazily under his breath, letting out a sigh behind the Demon King.

Satan's greeting was met with even louder cheers and roars of fury and wrath – anger, spite, hate and rage - resonating throughout the outer area of the Castle. Their hands were up in the air as their manic cheers drowned every single curse they were uttering against their enemies.

Their screams were screams of bloodthirst.

They wanted war.

They wanted revenge.

Satan's grin grew even louder as he recognized exactly what demonkind wanted. Lifting his fist up high in the air, he continued, "The day of our wrath, the day of our revenge! Humanity enslaved us for far too long", he paused for emphasis, "far too long have we been forced to run away, clinging to our small lives as humanity mercilessly butchered even the nursing demon women with children!" He slammed his fist on the balcony, "Children! They butchered even the children mercilessly – I have seen it myself, their corpses laid on the ground in a pool of black blood!"

Crestia, who was standing between Alciel and Lucifer, froze as she listened to the Devil's speech; She had seen how peaceful the demon infant had been with them during their stay in Japan. She could not – did not want to – fathom that humanity's deprivation was near bottomless, as the abyssal void of Hell itself.

"I refuse to watch this abuse continue – right now, that damnable Church is conspiring to commit genocide of our kind once more", he paused again, "and right now, they are committing the ultimate atrocity."

Crestia gasped, knowing what was about to come. "Emilia, the esteemed Hero of the Church, is one of us! She had fought for humanity; she decimated our armies all by herself! And what does the 'honorable' Church do?" Satan clenched his fists in cold fury, "They torture her, they burn her flesh, and they deny her to care for her child, my child!" Alciel gasped in surprise. He had not expected to claim the demon infant as his own, despite being unsure of her parentage.

"Now it's out in the open." Lucifer commented sternly, causing Alciel to gaze at him confused. "Their relationship, I mean."

The demons below gasped audibly as well, but Satan remained steadfast, taking note of their visible confusion.

"The Devil and the Hero sired an heir!?"

"Would that mean that she… she is his mate?"

"Why would he not choose one of the many women in the underworld!?"

"I know what you must be thinking right now." Satan, after a long pause, began again, his tone serious with a hint of worry. "She is demon, so is she not of our kin? Does she not deserve retribution, justice, for what has been done to her and her child? She, whose loyalty has been rewarded with the scourge of betrayal?"

Everyone fell silent. No one knew the pain of loss and torture better than Satan himself, having been on the receiving end of it as a child. He would end humanity's reign of terror against his kind once and for all.

He raised his fist high in the air, "Let us fight our oppressors to the last demon, let us slaughter them as they have slaughtered many of our brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers!" The scarlet moon cast its light upon the Demon King, "We shall watch the damnable Church burn in the everlasting fires of HELL!"

The Demon Generals smirked in contentment, relishing in the demon folks' cheers and roars of anticipation.

The scarlet moon shone brightly over the Devil's Castle. Crestia looked up the night sky briefly. Ah, how fitting; the moon was completely red like blood, a prelude to the Church's damnation.

A wicked grin appeared on the Devil's face as he spread his giant, bat-like wings, hearing his dark cape flutter in the air, and lunged upwards in the air, regarding the faint view of the Church's headquarters with a vengeful stare.

A/N: Yeah, I know, you want to see fights, bloody massacres and hellfire, but you will have to remain patient a little longer. Sorry guys… but I am taking this rather slow to build up the great clash between the demons and humans.

And yes, the Dante quote was NOT random at all.

If you love the tale of Satan and Emilia, leave a review, favorite, follow and share with your friends! I love your continued support - it really motivates me.

Until next time…..