Unknown location, Underworld
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"Have I not misheard? Someone of our kin is being held in these dungeons?" a dry, raspy, audibly surprised voice echoed from a high place inside a great hall.
"Precisely, Clan Leader, without a shred of doubt. Rozaria unmistakably identified the magical signature as belonging to our Clan."
The Clan Leader paused for a moment, tapping her left cheek gently with her slender fingers. "Does he speak the truth, Rozaria?" inquired the Clan Leader solemnly and seriously.
"Certainly." was the white-haired child-like demoness' short reply. She, like her partner, was kneeling on the lowest stair, having her head inclined before the Clan Leader.
"What else were you able to find out, Rozaria, Raizel?"
"It appears that…" Rozaria hesitated, a sudden rush of nervousness coming over her body.
"Yes…? It is quite unlike you to hesitate, dear Rozaria. Are the news troubling?"
"N-No, Clan Leader, it is…" she inhaled deeply before moving on, "Satan Jacob, the Demon King… he is planning a siege against the Holy Ones."
"A siege?" The Clan Leader's voice got frightfully serious as she abruptly arose from her throne-like chair. "That cocky fool…" Her face contorted into scorn as she paced back and forth in front of her chair.
"What are we to do?" Raizel, having remained silent all this time, suddenly chimed in. "By your orders, we have not interfered in his last raid where he was forced to flee Ente Isla."
"Our very existence is clandestine, Clan Leader. His sudden return must have not gone unnoticed – the Holy Ones could be provoked to attack the Underworld once more." Rozaria continued, "Our existence could be forced out in the open-"
"It is true that we have always had a policy of noninterference ever since the last true Demon King was overthrown over 500 years ago." The Clan Leader cut her off, walking back and forth more quickly. "However, the Holy Ones, by holding one of our kin in their dungeons, have transgressed grievously against our Clan."
The Clan Leader's frightfully chilling and deadly tone sent chills down the young demons' spines, nodding quickly. "I – we – cannot allow such a transgression to go unpunished." She paused dramatically, "We are the true nobles of demonkind. Our pride is everything."
"Are you saying it is time for-"
"Yes, Rozaria." The Clan Leader cut her off once more, a sadistic grin appearing on her still young face. "It is time for vengeance against those who have caused our noble line to be overthrown."
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Chapter 10: Cometh the Hour
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Mariejois, Isla Centrum
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The sun shone highly and agonizingly hot in the clear day sky over Isla Centrum's Imperial Capital Mariejois. Thousands of denizens of the central isle were assembled to watch the weekly executions of accused heretics and witches – those who had been accused of spreading unapproved doctrines and those who had been accused of being in league with the demon race.
However, today was indeed a very special day – it was no ordinary execution of some unnamed, terrified peasant who had been merely accused of heresy or witchery – oh no.
'THE DEVIL'S WITCH ABOUT TO BE EXECUTED' – so was the title plastered across the latest newspaper issue in all of Ente Isla; under the order of the Imperial Crown and the Church, of course. Any peasant worth his salt knew – or thought he knew – all the nitty-gritty, personal details of the former Hero's liaison with the Demon King; every detail given carefully, incrementally, as to ensure that no one, absolutely no one, ever had even an iota of sympathy for the scarlet-haired woman.
The papers detailed carefully crafted details such as Emilia's loyalty to humanity being the greatest ruse of all time, or, Emilia actually hating humanity and wishing its elimination from the face of the earth, even implying that Emilia had been the betrothed of the Demon King from the very beginning and that it was her, in her supposed hatred for humanity, who ordered the raids on even her own village.
The Church did not let a single newspaper issue go to waste to craft her scenery of propaganda against Emilia, appealing to the peasantry's anger and hatred for demons – they knew, of course, that humanity could be played like a flute; emotions are fickle. Humanity would not rebel because of Emilia's execution – the Church's graphic depiction – or rather, fiction – of her relationship with Satan would make sure of that.
And that was why no one was in uproar over the fact that Emilia was not given her day before the Court of Lady Justice to prove her innocence – humanity paid no attention to this overwhelmingly one-sided story without hearing Emilia's.
Humanity was fickle. Really fickle. Even against better judgment. They were primarily emotive – their deceitfulness, their intelligence and their craftsmanship all were secondary, and usually more prevalent in the higher society of nobles, of clergymen, of educated officials.
And among these classes, one objective was prevalent in all: Their lust for power. Like a spider's web, they backstab their superiors to inherit their position. They dream of absolute power, they dream of reaching higher, even close to the Divine himself. Thus, they were inconsiderate of anyone different - of different race or creed.
Humanity's hegemony was built upon blood – of demons and of humans. So much blood had been spilt in an effort for humanity to craft their proverbial Tower of Babel – humanity's permanent rule over all of the earth, to oppress anyone they deemed different.
Poor peasants; they knew not a thing.
12 o'clock, the gong strung. The sun reached its highest position, burning the hottest.
And there she was; caged like the most savage animal, malnourished, worn out, covered in her dried blood, chained and yet still beaten with a rose-thorned whip.
The sight was so horrifying that it would make any logical-thinking creature recoil in horror and rage – but not humanity. They cheered for her oppressors, throwing holy water against her already burned skin. It was truly a horrifying sight to behold. Humanity did not question anything – after all, this was the justice of the Divine.
Emilia said nothing. There was no point in doing so – anything she would say would drown in the peasantry's vile curses.
"And to think that all of these, hundreds, thousands of peasants used to be the ones who cheered you on…" remarked a sickly-sweet voice, belonging to an angel who clapped his hands. Emilia narrowed her eyes. Sariel.
"Look at them", he whispered, cupping her face harshly, "and study their faces contorted to rage and hatred, wishing for your demise…"
Emilia would not give him that satisfaction. She slammed her eyes shut, only for Sariel to force them to open with his magic. "Torturing me until the very last moment, huh?" she grunted.
"I want you to behold every single face." Sariel retorted, smiling wickedly. "Look at every single one of their faces…" he paused, grinning wider at her peril.
"Stop.." she whispered barely audibly.
"Their looks of rage, of hatred…" he paused again, ignoring her little remark and laughing coldly.
Ou"Stop", she said with a more pressing voice, gritting her teeth.
"..and most importantly: your demise." Sariel finished, breathing deeply inside her ear as he said so.
"STOP!" Emilia, having had enough of Sariel's tortures, finally bellowed loudly, yanking her chains, only to earn a few beatings with the rose-thorned whip again. She didn't care; if she was to die, it didn't matter whether she died with a few more beatings.
Violently she was dragged out of her cage, being still chained, and, like cattle hoarded to slaughter, she was dragged to the tall, wooden stake in the center of the market place, where the executions were usually held.
Clergymen from the Church tied Emilia's feet and her chest to the stake. The wood felt harsh and rough on her feet; she was not allowed to wear anything other than the bloodied sackcloth she had worn for the longest time inside the dungeons. She stared at the clear sky. Was she truly to die here?
"Citizens of Isla Centrum!" a horribly familiar, old, cackling man shouted in front of her, causing Emilia to recoil in disgust and horror.
'Olba!?', she thought to herself. 'What is he doing-'
"Today we have assembled to witness one of the, if not the most important burning in our lifetime." he continued in a hypocritically neutral manner. 'As if he isn't savoring this moment', Emilia commented in her mind, quietly growling in disgust. Emilia had remembered the rogue Archbishop she and Satan had fought in Tokyo when he allied himself with Lucifer under the pretense of getting the fallen angel reinstated in Heaven.
She had thought that the Church would have long excommunicated the rogue clergyman by now, or even executed him for being allied with one of the Demon King's Demon Generals. Never in a million years had she expected that he would still be in good standing with the Church.
"I present to you: The whore of the Demon King Satan!" he shouted, putting special emphasis on the word 'whore', knowing it would tarnish her truthful purity greatly as he yanked her out of her thoughts back into reality.
"Burn her!"
"Burn the harlot!"
"Throw her into Hell!"
The peasants' chants soon drowned out any form of conversation on the marketplace as they were calling for Emilia's execution.
"She is the one who had been in league with Satan from the very beginning, deceptively earning humanity's trust whilst conspiring with him behind our backs!" Olba roared, lunging his fist up in the air, feigning rage and indignation. Emilia knew it was all a ploy to fire up the crowd before him into cheering for the burning of an innocent woman.
She had witnessed countless burnings in the past; as the Hero of the Church, they made it her duty to watch what happens to those who oppose the Church either willingly or unwillingly – there was no mercy, and justice? Not anywhere. And in the beginning, she had recoiled in horror, falling in line – exactly what the Church had intended in showing her this. However, burning after burning, Emilia learned to control the shocking memories of terrible screams and the smell of burnt flesh. It did not faze her anymore; it was merely another reality of the crusade against demonkind.
'Liar', Emilia indignantly growled inside her mind, narrowing her eyes. She had been loyal to humanity – it was a sincere loyalty, not feigned. She wanted to better humanity, she wanted to lead them into a brighter future where demons were only folklore and scary bedtime stories to make children behave. She had been fully committed to the Church's cause – to eradicate demons without question.
Never in a second had she ever thought of conspiring with Satan, who was her archenemy at that time. He had killed her father! Why would humanity possibly believe that Emilia would ally herself to the one responsible not only for her own father's death, but countless innocent people as well?
"Emilia Justina has not only been conspiring with Satan, she has also sired him an heir!" Olba shouted towards the crowd, still feigning rage. The audience gasped, recoiling in horror. Olba then beckoned the soldiers behind him to bring him the chained infant Rias, crying wildly, and presented her to the audience.
Tears formed in Emilia's eyes; Sariel was not lying after all when he said that the infant would also endure a terrible execution. The audience ceased cheering, gasping as they beheld the infant in Olba's arms as she cried wildly, releasing her unholy aura, making many peasants faint.
"LET HER GO!" Emilia, having found bravery, screamed with all her might, fearing for the life of the infant she and Satan had come to accept in Japan. They truly wanted to raise Rias as their own daughter, away from the conflicts between humanity, angels and demons. "SHE IS INNOCENT!"
"Shut your ugly mouth, you whore…" Olba scowled, slapping her with his rose-thorned whip. "I never gave you any permission to talk."
"To hell with your permission! Do you really think it is just to brutally kill an innocent infant?" Repeated slaps could not make her back down.
"Her death is the Divine's will! And so is yours!"
"No, that is your will! Your sick, twisted, evil, wretchedly human will!" Emilia jeered, feeling her serpentine green eyes change to a bright red. "You, like the Church, are drunk with the blood of innocents that have perished for mere accusations!" she continued, snapping at him, "Just like many of my people who have been slaughtered because they were born with a set of horns and a tail! Innocents, Olba, innocents!"
Again, the audience gasped, whilst Olba did not say anything – he had never seen someone condemned being so feisty. Normally, others would beg for mercy, recoiling in horror at the fate that awaited them. But not Emilia. She openly defied Olba, making him, the soldiers and Sariel look like fools in front of the peasantry he was tasked to demonstrate the power of the Church.
'My people?'
'I-Is she…'
'Is she…'
'Is she…'
"Yes, I am a demon!" Emilia finally roared decisively to the peasantry, making all of them step back in shock. "The truth has been kept from me… all these years I have fought for humanity and slain the demons – I did not know that I, too, was one…"
She exposed herself. With this, she had hoped, humanity would realize that the Church played her for a fool and would rally behind her. What a foolish hope it was.
'Yes, burn the demoness!'
'Burn!'
'Burn!'
'BURN!'
Olba grinned victoriously. Emilia had played her hand very poorly, and now she would pay the ultimate price for her foolishness.
"So it shall be done!"
Outside of the Imperial Capital, a different scene was depicted. The great, fortified walls of Mariejois were under attack. A chillingly malevolent aura spread across the area, making the stationed soldiers hitch in their breaths, recoiling in fear, trembling.
Before the iron port to the capital stood a myriad of bantering soldiers, each clinging to their posts, shouting, wailing at a heavily armored, tall and muscular man, who was their leader.
His hair was an ashen grey, his eyes dark and cold – as one would expect from someone beholding a gruesome sight. His left eye was covered with a thick scar, as were his hands. This man was truly a veteran, having fought many battles and still having come back alive and victorious.
"W-what.. what should we do!?" a frantic, erratic voice asked, its owner's body trembling at the feeling of the malevolent, thick aura in the air. Faintly he beheld gruesome figures marching forward, towards the great walls.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHH!" another voice screamed in terrible agony, making the remaining soldiers recoil even more.
"I'd know that voice anywhere! That was Bran! He is one of our best men!"
"Oh Divine, what will come upon us!?"
"Whoever is attacking us has already breeched our outer defenses! We need to escape!"
"In here, we will all die!"
"The death cries are getting more numerous… Oh Divine, have mercy-"
"SILENCE!" the leader's voice sounded, booming across the area, sending chills down the spies of his subordinates. "I will not tolerate your pathetic shows of fear any longer!"
He studied their pale, frightened faces, their cold sweat and widened eyes and let out a scowl of disgust. "You disgust me." he began, still walking to study them. "You yell and scream like infants; you, who fought and slaughtered even the most terrifying of demons, you who still live to tell the tale – You call yourselves soldiers of Holy Mother Church?"
Deadly silence filled the area after the leader's words. Slowly, everyone called down.
"We will defend our home against any invader! These walls will never fa-"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"
Another loud scream sounded from afar, and once more, the soldiers recoiled visibly.
"Oh God, they are advancing…"
"They are getting closer and closer…"
All eyes turned towards the leader as he, too, had his eyes wide in shock, but he did not recoil like the others did. His hand was carefully gripping the hilt of his sword.
"L-Lord Commander?" a soldier yelled, hoping for a response. "Lord Commander?"
"CRAFT A BARRIER AROUND THE AREA, NOW!"
"…Sir? That-"
"THAT'S AN ORDER!" the leader, having a frightened voice, yelled towards the soldiers who then took out their beads and started to chant in Ente Isla's native language. Slowly, but surely, a large, green, thick barrier emerged from the ground, engulfing the area the soldiers were standing and the walls in a dome-like form.
The malevolent aura did not cease – even the celestial aura from Heaven itself could not make it so – this frightened the soldiers a lot, so they still recoiled.
Anger and terror filled the commander's being, recognizing dark figures from afar.
Demons.
"A magical barrier, eh? Cute." A chilling voice, assuming a mocking tone, boomed. All soldiers looked around, but could not find the voice's owner. It sent chills down even the commander's spine, but he kept his countenance. 'Oh Divine, what am I about to witness…?'
"W-whoever you are, you will never get into the Imperial Capital! These walls are blessed by Heaven itself, you will never-"
"Oh, won't I? I would be careful flaunting that arrogance around me, for how can you claim to be able to defend yourselves against an enemy such as I when we have never met?"
"Enough with your games!" the commander's voice bellowed, rushing forward, pointing his blade in the air. "Show yourself, now!"
"Do not presume to order me around, church dog. I take no orders from hounds such as yourself." The frightful, chilling tone was enough to make everyone almost faint on the spot.
"MEN, TO ARMS!" the commander shouted in an attempt to boost his subordinates' morale, rallying them to him. On the spot, the men readied their lances, treated with holy silver and prepared to lunge forward.
And with one, audible punch, the green barrier shattered as if it was mere glass. What was now displayed before them was a much, much taller creature than their puny forms in comparison; he had two bronze-colored horns, teal hair, a pair of glowing, fiery red eyes and dark claws. Metallic-black plates, showing only his brown hooves, covered his furry legs. A scarlet red cape adorned his shoulders and he wore a distinct, royal blue uniform.
Behind him were three figures – a purple-haired one with black, feathery wings, an ashen blonde, tall man with reptilian claws and tail, and a young, navy-haired woman who wore no special attire.
"Now tell me exactly who you lot are!" the commander demanded in a display of bravery, also an attempt to boost his troops' morale.
"Haven't I already told you?" was the chilling response as the teal-haired figure lunged forward to grab the commander's neck, looking deep into his eyes. "Do not order me around, worm!" With that, he threw the commander way back.
The soldiers realized what they were up against; but did they also know who they were up against?
"Unholy creature!" one soldier shouted in rage, "We, the soldiers of God, will vanquish your-"
"Heh."
"W-what!?"
"Hahahahaha…"
"W-what is he-"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA!"
"He's.. he's laughing?" the woman whispered slightly terrified.
"YOU? Soldiers? Of the Divine? You lot? What a great, pathetic joke! AHAHAHAHAAHA!"
Slowly, but dramatically, he walked forward. Every soldier with a weak heart fainted on the spot. "See, you cannot even stand before me, and you call yourselves soldiers." His gaze fell upon the commander of the troops. "Your commander is a little better than terrible." He gave the commander one scorned look before continuing.
"Go on; call upon your heavenly master." He scowled at the mention of the last word. "Let us see if he will answer your miserable prayers for safety from a monster such as I."
Dead silence filled the area. "No answer…? Not even an imprecatory prayer..?"
"Who… who are you…?" the commander asked creakingly, looking the tall demon straight into the eyes.
"Me? Guess."
"Has your damned King sent you here to wreak havoc?"
"Perhaps I should tell you my name." he drawled, a wicked grin appearing on his face before continuing. "It is Satan."
Satan.
Satan.
Satan.
The Demon King.
The commander's face grew pale, his eyes wide in shock. He quickly crawled backwards until he reached the iron port.
"Starting to get the picture now, are we?" the Devil, once more, drawled, walking towards the commander. "Where is that bravery you were flaunting a minute ago? Hollow, like the prayers you lot utter against my kind?"
The distance between the commander and the Demon King was a rather large one, yet the commander could still hear Satan's voice as if he was before him.
Suddenly, a beam of light shone upon the poor commander, illuminating him. Having found new bravery, he rose up and pointed his sword towards the Demon King.
"Oh, you think light is your ally…?" the Demon King commented mockingly, baring his fangs as he drew closer and closer to the commander. "You merely adopted the light. Emilia was born in it, molded by it…" he continued, inching closer. "…unaware that your false light is nothing more but BLINDING!"And with that, Satan ferociously grabbed the commander's neck, poking holes into his soul, making his body reel. The other soldiers were still unconscious; they could not see the terror of the Demon King. The commander wished he had that luxury.
"And you, dogs, have condemned her to the most painful death only because she belongs to us!" Satan slammed the commander's head against the port, growling loudly as he gripped his neck even more tightly. "She, who fought for your wretched armies to defend your abominable Church!"
Slam.
"You treated her like royalty, but once you uncovered the truth she didn't even know herself, you discarded her!"
Slam.
"She, whose only sin was to be born of the 'unholy race'!"
Black flames lames started to engulf the entire area, and the soldiers caught fire. Their screams of terror echoed throughout the entire area, but none of the screams penetrated the thick walls.
And Satan was pleased with this. They should die, alone and forgotten like the countless others who passed through the fires, guilty or not. It was a fitting punishment for them.
"Tell me, commander." Satan began, his voice assuming that frightful tone. "In all those eons where your Church thought she was blessed by the Divine…" he paused, noticing that the commander's body was still reeling, "…has she even once considered the visage of Hell?"
No answer came. "No, of course not. After all, the Church has the mandate of Heaven, correct?" Satan lifted the commander's body up high. "Oh, but the darkest places in Hell are reserved for those who use their holiness to abuse other living creatures."
With one last scowl, Satan threw the commander's body into the black-flamed lake.
"The Church's sins shall not go unpunished."
Not even wasting a second, the Devil opened the gates to the Imperial Capital of Isla Centrum.
And the sky darkened in a fiery red.
As Olba and the soldiers were still busy preparing the Holy Fire that would burn Emilia, they took notice of the fiery red sky slowly creeping in, crowding out the light blue. Even the sun seemed to flee in terror.
The peasants started to shiver in fear, not being sure what the sudden change of color in the sky meant.
One moment after the next, a few audible explosions caused the same peasants to run in fear, to run for their lives as blue fire rained down from the sky, burning down in the fire, ruining the livelihoods of the humans living in the capital.
Olba stood, frozen, on his spot. He could not move; his body did not obey him, as if a spell had been cast upon it.
Amidst all the fire and brimstone, the tall, bronze-horned demon walked towards the stake Emilia Justina was chained upon. Black fire followed him, adorned his cape, yet it did not burn.
Emilia, upon recognizing the figure, widened her eyes in joy as joyful tears ran down her cheeks.
"Satan…" she whispered, feeling him inch closer to her, undoing her chains. His black flames did not burn her, in fact, they soothingly licked her wounded skin; another sign she was demon-born.
Satan looked at Emilia with endearing, but sad eyes before they changed into hellish fury.
"They will pay for this…" he growled furiously as he beheld Emilia's malicious wounds. "I will make the heavens fall."
A/N: And so it begins… the great apocalypse of Ente Isla. And yes, I did copy a reference from The Dark Knight Rises, but it felt so fitting here… hehehe… I hope you can forgive me for that.
I honestly didn't know how to write this, but I will have a lot more fun writing the actual carnage. This is just the overture, so stay tuned.