Crimson Twilight: Midnight

Chapter 38: Second Interlude

The walls outside Glastheim shook violently as a massive, hairy fist struck them. The old stone cracked and bits of rubble fell to the ground. Clouds of dust rose from the impact. It was a mark of Glastheim's excellent architecture that the walls still stood even after thousands of years. Piles of rubble lined the base of the outer western walls of Glastheim; the striking had been going on for quite a while already.

'Damn your bones to the Abyss, Abraxil…I know how you plot against me…'

The demon, Baphomet, struck the wall again, causing it to shake in its foundations. He was not a fool, he knew that Abraxil dithered and delayed in their attacks. The skeletal being was obviously plotting to kill him and absorbing his essence! He was likely looking for a way to kill an immortal without Baphomet's knowledge. The alliance between them was more of an alliance of convenience anyway. Baphomet knew and respected the power of Abraxil Sovivor and did not want to worry about an attack from him, at least early in the war. Still, the Dark Lord was taking too much advantage of the situation.

'I will do as I please this time…there are immortals that can be attacked easily enough.'

The goat demon stalked out of Glastheim. This time, he was going to hunt on his own.

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"He's such a fool as always…"

Abraxil Sovivor watched from his scrying spell as his "ally" stalked out of Glastheim. There were few things that happened without his knowledge and the plans of his enemies were well known to him as well. Both the Clock Tower Manager and the Turtle General were still cooped up in their lairs, too afraid to make any move. Osiris was accompanying the blood knight in a forest at the base of Mt.Mjolnir. The doppelganger was cavorting around Prontera making a fool of himself as usual. The battle between the Stormy Knight and Hatii was over but the victor wasn't important as the Lord of Death was already there, ready to finish off the spoils. The Evil Snake Lord and the Incantation Samurai were still fighting although Abraxil himself was ready to kill whoever won between the two. Moonlight Flower was in Payon, wavering between her or his personalities. With so much activity around him, Abraxil was easily poised to take advantage of any situation that arose.

'Even in my own camp I must plot against those around me…'

Abraxil Sovivor knew of other things that took place inside the ruins of Glastheim. While he had slain the leader of the injustice, Zealotus, the race of degenerate humans still existed. He knew full well that they plotted revenge against him. The injustice roamed the lower dungeons beneath Castle Glastheim itself, where they once served as wardens, guards and torturers along with the rybios. There was no need to deal with them directly though…

"Maiha…"

The Dark Lord spoke the name with a slight hint of pleasure. Maiha Il-Xalascent was his greatest…minion right now. He would even say an ally if the assassin possessed even a spark of immortality. He heard the faint sound of something gliding across the floor, an aspect of the woman even he had to admire. His personal chambers were under several enchantments of his design. One of them is that he could magnify any sound that a living thing made while walking his floor. The faint sound told him that the assassin made less noise than a rat crawling over a thick carpet. He did not need to look to imagine the grace and fluidity in the woman's movements. She reminded him of a sidewinder; silent, graceful and fascinatingly lethal.

"You called, Abraxil?"

The smooth feminine voice did not hold any fear for Abraxil when it spoke. He did not mind in the slightest that she did not call him "my lord" as most groveling minions did. Maiha did not do his bidding because she feared him. She did so because they shared a lot of goals and in some ways…traits. Besides, he paid in her favorite currency; slow, sweet torture from a being of power. It was something that was a bit rewarding to him to give as a reward.

"The injustice plan to mass out and attack me in my own chambers. I don't want to lessen my undead by meeting their forces with my own hence I need you to kill them all."

Maiha pouted and twirled Malys with one hand. Rivulets of poison landed on her clothes and stained the carpet of the Dark Lord's chambers. It was a mark of her "employer's" confidence in her abilities that he considered her a match for a mob of injustice. Still, she wanted to kill someone who was a little more…personally involved with her or Abraxil instead of some random monster. Slicing and dicing some animal and then watching it squeal in pain and for mercy was amusing at best but to place your skin close to a person you were once involved with; to smell their fear and taste their pain...that was the sensation she lived for. That was why she worked for Abraxil.

"That sounds so much like drudgework, Abraxil…"

The Dark Lord floated towards Maiha. His imposing, skeletal form seemed to dissipate and was replaced by the figure of a man. Abraxil's human form stood several inches above six feet, allowing him to stand at least a head taller than Maiha. His black hair was trimmed and carefully swept back. He had never allowed a single strand to fall out of place. He was clean shaven, with pale skin and dark brown eyes within deep sockets. He still wore the robes of his former office; that of a high priest of Glastheim. The runes that marked his crimson robes were embossed and gold-bordered showing that he used to be the Grand High Priest in Glastheim. This appearance did not hide the sinister gleam in his eyes or the malice he projected like an aura but it was more settling as opposed to being a nine-foot tall skeleton with wickedly sharp teeth, black electrical arcs coursing through you and menacing horns that projected from the side of your skull.

"Consider it a boon, Maiha, since you won't be killing anyone else until this miserable week of peace comes to an end. The injustice are as much as a gift as they are a mission."

Abraxil closed in on Maiha and grasped her right hand. The assassin regarded him coolly, an amused and playful smile on her lips. She stared at him invitingly, her own dark brown eyes seeming to ripple with fascination for him. There was an attraction here. It was not love as love was an expression of good which was anathema to the both of them. It was...a mutual fascination between the different facets of evil they saw in each other.

"You'd give them to me to toy with? That's so sweet of you, Abraxil…"

The Dark Lord brought the hand near his lips and smiled, revealing pointed teeth. He was undead but he wasn't without his own pleasures.

"Not that I won't compensate you of course…"

Maiha's smile widened as she showed her bare wrist to the Dark Lord. Abraxil's touch alone could send waves of sickening pain through mortal flesh. The thought made her giddy and a little weak in the knees. She gasped slightly when the immortal brought a fang down her wrist, easily piercing the skin and causing drops of blood to fall on the carpet, marking the already bloody cloth with fresh, crimson stains.

"A-Abraxil…"

The Dark Lord's own smile widened as he watched the assassin. It was fascinating; watching this woman enjoy the sensation of her precious life blood leaking away, watching her writhe with ecstasy as he send waves of pain through her lithe body. He had made up his mind that he would have this assassin by his side rather than the crude and generally stupid Baphomet when the time was right. He released the hand after closing the wound; painfully of course.

"A little preview to get you motivated. Finish them for me, Maiha."

The assassin moaned in slight disappointment and sheathed her daggers. The Dark Lord noticed the eagerness in her step when she left the room.

"I almost feel sorry for those injustice…"

Sinister laughter echoed through the chambers…

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"The Dark Lord will die this time!"

The sentence repeated itself through the lips of every member of the crowd that gathered in the dungeons of Castle Glastheim. It would have been a terrifying sight to any adventurer within the ruins. A mob of injustice and their distant cousins, the rybios, had gathered to avenge to their leader. All of them clamored for the death of the immortals that had killed Zealotus, the Dark Lord and Baphomet.

"With Baphomet away from Glastheim, we can surround and destroy the Dark Lord! Now is the only time to attack him!"

The leader of the injustice, by the name of Hedgaszvill, shouted the words to the mob. The rybios howled their reply as they twirled the wicked-looking, curved swords they carried. The injustice rubbed their katars together and yelled as well. Their revenge had come. Not only that, they hoped that slaying the Dark Lord would liberate the stolen essence of their leader and bring her back to life.

"Oh, stop yelling! You sound like you've won already but you won't even be leaving this prison alive!"

The injustice and the rybios turned to see who dared mock them. They recognized the female assassin who stood by the entrance of the prison. Hedgaszvill's eyes narrowed.

"Abraxil Sovivor's assassin whore…so he's already discovered our plans. You will be the first to die then…"

The injustice needed no goading. They were sadists by nature as well as extremely violent. Both those aspects were accentuated by their pitiless black eyes and dull gray skin. They were bred for speed and power and they knew how to use their viciously barbed katars with deadly proficiency. The rybios were slightly slower than the injustice but these demonic torturers and executioners were stronger. The permanent blood stains in their terrible weapons promised pain and death within a few strikes. They ran their forked tongues over rows of cruelly sharpened teeth as they charged.

Maiha Il-Xalascent waded among them gleefully...

Malys sliced through the wrist of one injustice and kept going until it hacked off a piece of a rybio's skull. The demon fell to the ground, its brains leaking from the resulting hole. The shard of its skull skittered towards the shadows; its right horn still attached. The injustice with the severed right hand howled in pain but slashed again with its left katar. Its target was no longer there, however. Maiha hand leapt over it and landed directly behind the cursing injustice. Furie buried itself into the base of the injustice's spine. Malys whipped about again, slicing another injustice's throat wide open. Sticky, crimson liquid sprayed over Maiha's face. Laughing softly, she licked some of it and spun about, flicking some of the poison from her daggers into the eyes of her rapidly increasing attackers.

Hedgaszvill's eyes widened. He did not expect the walls of the prison to echo with the screams of dying injustice and rybios. An arm, a katar still attached to it, flew past him as the mob pressed on the assassin from all sides. The injustice were berserk with killing lust now. The rybios were the same. The resulting clamoring coaelscing with the clash of steel and the cries of the dying was deafening if not maddening.

"This woman is unbelievable. I had expected her to fall from the initial rush alone…what kind of demon has Abraxil Sovivor produced from Rune-Midgard's humans this time?"

Maiha continued laughing as a curved sword caught her shoulder with its hooked end. The hook tore a portion of her flesh painfully, spraying blood on the rybio who had attacked. The assassin grinned and slashed the demon's eyes out with a horizontal cut from Malys. Furie lashed out as well, slashing off the knee cap of an injustice. The creature howled and fell face-first to the ground. Another injustice tripped on its fallen comrade. Before it could pitch forward, Furie lashed out again, slicing its throat so viciously that its head fell back, attached to the body only by a strand of muscle. A katar found an opening and plunged forward, imbedding an inch of steel into Maiha's right leg. The assassin whirled and severed the arm connected to the katar by the wrist before she ducked a wide swing from a rybio's cleaver. Another rybio's arm fell off…

The slaughter continued on and on…

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From all aspects, Acheron seemed to be an infernal plane of chaos. It was a plane of eternal war, where armies clashed over and over again inside whirling cubes that clashed against each other. Instead it was a plane of law, where armies where organized and mobilized for all eternity. There were no lulls in the fighting here. When a soldier died, he would reincarnate as a soldier for the side of the army that killed him. This way, the conflict never ended. Acheron had long been classified as having five layers; Ocanthus and Thuldanin being among the most famous.

More probing scholars, however, discovered a sixth layer, Canzisanus. Here, war raged harder than anywhere else in the plane. The only clouds were clouds of arrows. The source of light came more from the constant explosions of spells rather than the weak sun that hung above the plane. Canzisanus was arranged like a cylinder that tapered as it went deeper. The sides were composed of concentric "rings" where war raged. At the bottom and center of all the fighting clashed two strange beings. They resembled gigantic trees with root-like tentacles for legs. The "trunk" was dotted with one hundred arms and fifty heads. Each arm held a weapon and every head was shouting a battle cry and looking out for attacks. They were the hecatoncheires, Sgaidex the unspeakable and his brother Fvellam the forbidden. They were abominations, born of long-dead gods and sealed within the plane; forced to fight for eternity as their imprisonment. Above them, as if to witness their eternal duel, was a massive palace, carved from the pitiless stone of Acheron. Here in this palace resided the demigoddess, Mira Kerarilvenae, the avatar of carnage. In her personal domain, she participated in constant battle or thought of ways to spread her carnage to other planes.

It was here where she decided what to do with Rune-Midgard…

"Someone is calling for me…"

The sound of dying screams and war cries always accompanied every word that left Mira's lips like a counterpoint. In response, her confidant and herald replied.

"Who is, goddess? Who calls for you?"

The voice came from a set of six swords that floated in front Mira. Her herald, Visiden, was a rage wind, an amalgam of the souls of ancient warriors that animated a set of weapons. Mira stood from her throne and stalked the room. Her "throne" was made from steel. It's edges were sharp and serrated as well as polished to a lethal shine. Swords, spears and axes adorned her throne room like trophies and indeed they were. Every weapon belonged to a worthy enemy and there had been so many of them. She had been focusing on Rune-Midgard when she "felt" the call. As a demigoddess of carnage, she was acutely aware of any massive slaughter that occurred in any plane where she had influence. Rune-Midgard was not supposed to be one of them. She did not have any worshippers in that fledgling plane so she could not enter it…yet. Still, she felt "something" calling out to her sphere of influence; a potential spreader of her domain. This could be her way to enter Rune-Midgard…

"A mortal who wallows in carnage as a way of existence…"

Mira concentrated some more, trying to pinpoint more information about the mortal who unconsciously called out to her. Visiden hovered near the demigoddess, trying to anticipate her next command. Strife was Mira Kerarilvenae's primary domain. When battle and carnage flourished in a plane of existence, her influence grew. For her to notice someone in a plane where she has no presence yet indicated a powerful mortal who lived her domain.

"Maiha Il-Xalascent…"

A name finally came to Mira. It was a strain, even for a demigoddess, to find someone in a plane of existence where she was not allowed to enter. It was an unbreakable rule among divine beings that they could not remain in a plane where no one believed in them or what they stood for. The best Mira could do was to send a "herald" to gain her first believer and then let the flame of her new faith spread to others. A divine herald was also a being of power, since it was not a god, it could enter any plane. Still, it is also limited. It is forbidden to exercise its full might on a plane where its patron did not have presence. It cannot proselytize the faith. The only thing it can do is convert one follower or bring the potential follower before the presence of its patron.

"Visiden, Bring her to me. I wish to speak to her…"

The rage wind complied and in a flash, it was already gone. Mira rested on her throne and waited. She had touched the mind of the mortal who had called for her and found it insane. Maiha Il-Xalascent was a madwoman, likely a psychotic outcast who knew only how to kill. She was involved in the machinations of evil and went along with it willingly. The demigoddess probed the garbled thoughts to find something more interesting. It was then she discovered deeper feelings in the mortal.

'Your thirst for vengeance from the outside but there lies something deeper than that. There is rage in you, rage you mask with insanity in order to prevent it from taking over you. Jealousy…hate…confusion…a lust for power…these do not manifest your core being.'

The demigoddess kept probing; this mortal would be her passage; that was completely certain now. It was risky business, relying on something insane but she was certain that she would succeed in this one. If it meant granting her some power then so be it…

'I cannot be the only one who has no presence in Rune-Midgard, Thomas…'

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"Delicious…just delicious…"

Maiha staggered slightly but she still kept her momentum. Bodies piled up around her one after another. The rybios kept coming; they hacked at her with bloody hatchets and curved hook-like swords. Their mouths were bared fiercely, revealing dirty, bloody fangs. The injustice were fewer in number now. Many of them had been hacked to pieces. Grayish limbs littered the prison floors. Maiha had more than a dozen vicious wounds on her body. Blood streamed from her and formed a puddle by her feet. Still, she was grinning and both Malys and Furie still glinted with the promise of a painful death. Suddenly, one injustice stepped forward. He was taller than the other injustice and his katars looked especially wicked when he raised them.

"It's clear that we can't bring down Abraxil Sovivor if we cannot even kill his assassin without losing half our number. For that, I'll make your death especially slow and painful…"

Hedgaszvill's voice was low and raspy when he spoke. It was true, his attack on the Dark Lord was doomed from the start but he still wanted this assassin whore dead. It would be a pleasure to spill her guts and rip that smug smile on her face. Still, he could not help but feel a twinge of fear when she responded to his threats with a smile.

"That sounds wonderful, injustice, but you'd disappoint me with such rash promises. I'll have your heart instead…"

Hedgaszvill dashed forward, crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat. His right katar smashed into the assassin's main gauche while his left one moved to outmaneuver the gladius. His tactic worked. His weapons were lighter and faster, allowing him to slip past the two-weapon defense and cut at the assassin's throat. Maiha managed to tilt her head though, turning the lethal slash to a nasty graze. Furie thrust forward but the injustice managed to step back, causing the stab to hit nothing. Maiha stepped in, Malys whistling through the air as she made a horizontal slash aimed at her opponent's jugular. Again, Hedgaszvill managed to back away in time. His right katar slashed from below, wounding Maiha on the cheek.

"Rash? On the contrary, it's inevitable!"

Hedgaszvill grinned cruelly. He had the assassin now. Malys swung again and missed him by an inch. Furie moved upward, defending Maiha's chest as Hedgaszvill stepped forward to attack. The katars were a blur when they moved. Hedgaszvill aimed for the assassin's dark brown eyes…

"Oh, so it's fate now?"

Maiha's smile only widened when she ducked the blinding swing. Malys lashed forward, slicing a deep gouge into the injustice's armpit. Hedgaszvill grunted in pain and stepped back. The grunt was music to Maiha's ears. Furie moved in, dealing several light gashes to the injustice's chest. The katars moved forward again but Maiha brought Furie down on the left katar, severing the leather bindings that attached it to the back of the fist. The three-pronged blade clattered uselessly to the floor. Hedgaszvill looked up in surprise and straight into the assassin's eyes. It was his last mistake. The shock of being disarmed caused him to ignore Malys, which promptly hacked off his right hand. The weaponless injustice staggered back but Maiha had dashed forward before he even thought of howling in pain. Malys and Furie descended on Hedgaszvill so fast that he did not even get to scream.

"It looks like fate isn't as reliable as you think, injustice!"

Maiha laughed softly as she went to work. The idea that these pathetic monsters considered fate was laughable. They were only weak demons after all. They did not see what she had seen or realized what she had realized. Only she had to bear such things. That was why she was stronger than any of them.

The rybios looked in shock as Maiha reduced the injustice leader to chunks of flesh. The assassin gave Malys an expert twist, instantly carving out a hole in the chest. Her left hand plunged into the hole and ripped out the heart. Laughing softly, she sampled it with her tongue, savoring every drop of blood that trickled towards her mouth. The rybios did not stay around to watch her finish the grisly meal. Even the demonic executioners knew when they were outmatched by something that had more killing power than they did.

"That's it? This really is a chore!"

Maiha pouted again. She hoped that the reward was worth the disappointment of this fight. It dawned on her then that there was no reason for rybios to be frightened of her. The assassin turned around only to find herself surrounded by six floating swords. The weapons surrounded her in a ring and glowed with a menacing light.

"Maiha Il-Xalascent?"

Maiha raised an eyebrow. She was panting in exhaustion and weak from loss of blood. Her wounds were jagged and wonderfully painful. They were likely poisoned and dirty too. The injustice had no notion of a fair fight and the rybios loved to cause pain. She nibbled on the fresh heart and watched the swords in fascination.

"You are a divine herald."

Maiha turned around again, to see who spoke this time. It was Abraxil. He stepped over the piles of bodies and moved towards the assassin. He put an arm around her shoulder and ran a sharpened nail across one of her wounds.

"You did an excellent job, Maiha. You even attracted the attention of some divine being."

Maiha moaned with pleasure as negative energy flowed from the Dark Lord's fingertips, closing her wounds and causing immense pain in the process. The swords swiveled about and pointed at Abraxil Sovivor.

"I am Visiden, a herald of the carnage avatar, Mira Kerarilvenae."

Abraxil held up a hand.

"I've done research on your goddess, herald. I had expected something like this would happen…"

The swords flashed momentarily.

"Then you know what she wants."

Abraxil waved his hand.

"She wants what all gods want in a fledgling plane; a way to spread her influence into this world. She sees that goal in this assassin then?"

The swords did not reply. Abraxil smiled. Immortality did not seem such a distant goal for Maiha Il-Xalascent after all. The assassin had her eyes closed as she leaned on him, moaning with pleasure as he increased the flow of negative energy. Most mortals would be screaming in pain and terror by now…

"Is she willing to grant the power of an assassin cross?"

The swords swiveled again. Visiden knew what Abraxil spoke about and he knew what the skeletal being's motives were for the assassin.

"The carnage avatar can easily grant such power. It depends on the willing choice of the assassin."

Maiha opened one eye half-way. She had been listening to the entire thing.

"Assassin cross? It has a nice ring to it…anything to give my baby sister a surprise by the end of the week…"

The swords bobbed as if nodding.

"Follow me then…"

One of the floating swords swung in a circular motion. The air rippled around the spot and a circle of white light appeared. Soon a gate had opened, leading to what appeared to be a massive battle field. Abraxil Sovivor smiled as he let go of the assassin. Things were turning out better than he had anticipated. Still laughing softly, Maiha staggered towards her fate…