Disclaimer: Black Clover is owned by Yūki Tabata, Studio Pierrot, and Shonen Jump.
Saga 47: Devil in Your Heart Part 2
Leviathan's Beached Zone, Clover Island, No Man's Waves, Late Night
"Pft, 'how did you end up here', you said," mocked the stranger, "funny, I can ask you the same thing."
"Well, the presence of Inquisitors in Clover Kingdom caused to-"
"Wait wait wait, stop right there," the stranger remarked, "... did you say, 'Inquisitors'?"
A realization dawned on Claudius like a haymaker to the proverbial groin.
"... You're also running from them, aren't you?" asked the Fallen Angel.
"... Yeah, and as you can tell, I don't take kindly to outsiders crashing into my new home unannounced," the stranger remarked, "nor I am charitable enough to lend an ear, given that I have one of your brats at my fingertips, and said 'fingertip' blowing a hole through a plate of steel, so try me."
Wonderful, I just aggravated her further, he thought, alright, Baldr's not dead yet, so there's still some wiggle room.
"So, it seems that we're on the run from the same predator," Claudius pointed out, "tell me, would you like to join forces with us? Separate, we're insufficient, but together, we'd have a better chance of taking down the Inquisitors-"
"Hahaha, no," the stranger remarked in a bait-and-switch manner as she pressed her metal barrel into Baldr's temple, causing him to bleed slightly from the friction inflicted, "I got driven out of my own covenant for being unable to become a full-on Adaptor."
"Adaptor?" Thor remarked, "the hell is that?"
"Funny thing is, humans without mana can still make contracts with Demons," the stranger explained, "unlike Contractors, whom have to give up a portion of their own lifespan as part of the agreement, Adaptors just flat-out absorb the very Demon into their own bodies, warping their genetic basis into something in-between a human and a Demon, hence the 'adapt' part of our titles. I unfortunately couldn't withstand the transformation and ended up rebounding mid-ritual, and next thing I knew, I was hurled off of a frozen cliffside and into a freezing river."
"... Wait, so there were others like me?" Astaroth pointed out his past as 'Asta' on not having any magic.
"Sephira declared that she would save everyone," Claudius venomously remarked, "rubbish, she couldn't even keep the very promise that she made."
"... As you can see, I really didn't trust anyone after my near-death experience," the stranger remarked as she kept the barrel's tip steady against Baldr's head, "at least the Inquisitors are honest about their intentions to tie me up on a stake and burn me alive just because I didn't have mana. Thankfully, or not, one of them did a shitty job tying the rope on me, and I cut loose and killed everyone in the very village that watched me get roasted. With my bare hands, mind you."
She then flips up her cloak, revealing nothing but burn scars from the neck-down, her nipples being burnt off to reveal nothing but charred muscle fibers where her breasts would be.
"Still though," the stranger growled, "that bastard Saiga wasn't laughing when I ripped his eyes out. Still, I just kept running in a daze, through Ulster, through the Witch's Forest, though the whole godforsaken Clover Kingdom, and finally, I only stopped when I saw the whole rumored whale-road laid before grain-earth below my feet."
"... 'Whale-road'?" remarked Astaroth confusedly, mentally picturing Leviathan walking on land, "... 'grain-earth'?"
"It means 'ocean' and 'sand' respectively, Prince," Leviathan explained, "from where she came from, they still use an archaic tongue."
"Well excuse me for being uneducated!" snapped back Astaroth.
"Well, nowhere else to run, so I just then ran across the water before I found myself drowning just like back when I feel through the ice after my drop against my will," the stranger deadpanned, "strangely, in spite of running for my life, I found myself oddly calm as I filled up on salt water, only to begin to think that why was I ended up being the runt of the litter in a world that demanded power and nothing else? Why was I born weak and tossed aside, forced to run alone while the other had others with them?"
"Her envy of others..." Leviathan remarked, "... resonated with my own. I saw her sinking in my sight, yet her soul burned with envy, the embers of her life fighting to still burn as her body grew colder and colder. Ergo, an incomplete contract was formed between us. She'll have none of my powers, but in turn, she'll have my protection at her disclosure."
"And for the next, 50 years, I sunk every single boat that so much as approached the open sea or got as this close to my new home," the stranger declared, "Clover Island, as it was called. The origin of all magic, now the hive of my own plot for vengeance against to those whom abandoned me. Gunpowder, barrel-boring, trajectory-dynamic mathematics, a method to kill all magic users before they can cast a spell. 50 years of ceaseless labor, and I find a bunch of pretenders who dare to claim themselves as victims. Disgusting, all of you."
"The humans have nearly wiped out our kind!" Thor retorted, "our own magic was used against us! We suffered because their greed and our own incompetence! We were forced to hide for 500 years waiting for our own chance to strike back! We will not die before we paid them back in their own blood!"
"Sounds like a 'you'-problem and not mine," the stranger pointed out as her finger moved towards the hair-trigger, "considering how powerful you bastards are, even if you tried to give up on magic and learned from your destroyers, did you make a dent in their population to begin with? And weapons of mass destruction that you've unleashed that cut down entire villages like grass? Did you made any attempt to move past survival?"
"... You know we elves are," Thor remarked, "our birthrate are low, our fertilization rate even lower, even if we tried to go about like rabbits, so practicality was our only option. At least that way, we wouldn't be spotted by any prying humans."
"Well, I have a way out for that little issue," the stranger suggested, "euthanasia."
"NO!"
The stranger squeezes the trigger...
"... The fuck?" she remarked as she kept pulling her trigger for her Big Iron, the hammer moving back and forth twice, but no charge from the other chambers that turned towards the hammer's direction, "a jam, now of all times-what!?"
Between the hammer and the chamber, she noticed a small bit of iron that wedged itself between the workings, preventing the hammer from hitting it hard enough to ignite the gunpowder in the bullet. The said fragment that he got from the broken helmet back at the first Grimoire Tower's trash chute was sneakily thrown towards her Big Iron by Claudius at the very last minute, compressed between his fingers to be melded into the perfect aerodynamic shape while distracting the stranger with the conversation long enough to finish his work.
She then looks back towards the front, only to see a black fist speed towards her in a blinding jab that drilled into her mouth and sent her flying off of her feet, the sensation of her own neck being undone from the inside felt and heard like snapping twigs.
Baldr was freed from the stranger's grasp, with Claudius standing before the stranger with the caved-in mouth.
"Learned that trick from the [Platinum Magic] user," Claudius deadpanned as he removed the iron fragment beween the hammer and revolving chamber, "annoying as that [Glitter Dart] was, I sort of praise it's ingenuity. Sort of."
He then undone Big Iron's hammer, clicking it back in place without discharging it before tossing it aside.
Spade/Clover Kingdom Borderlands, Twrch Trwyth Tavern, Late Night
"Oi bossman," Cissonius remarked as he leaned his back against the countertop, his head leaning back and facing Dagda, whom he himself was tapping a few tunes on a piano, "what do you think of this kingdom? Think it might be good for business?"
"Eh, bastards with money try to kill me multiple times and wasted good food too," Dagda answered while he played softly on the tavern piano, "I mean, people here are fine, but even dried fish more life in their eyes compared to these sorry lot."
"Yeah, but from their perspective, we're practically freaks of nature," Cissonius remarked as he lit a pipe in his mouth before puffing out a few smokes, "this place ain't Ulster, that's for sure. At least the Demons there run free and we can take em. Here? A stiff breeze can topple everything over like an old teepee."
"Eh, it's not just that they're weak, we're just made of tougher stuff," Dagda remarked as he closed the piano, "... guess that's what it means to live in peace, or at the very least, not having the need to constantly sleep with one eye open. Hell, I thought that we were going to run into at least one Lindwyrm on our way here, but no such luck."
The steps upstairs clacked as someone came down, revealing to be Brigid.
"Pulling another all-nighter?" Dagda remarked, "yer gonna git a wrinkle on yer pretty face, ya know."
"Oh shut your trap and get me a coffee," Brigid remarked as Cissonius prepared a late night mug for the scantly-clad sorceress.
"Ere' you go," Cissonius remarked as he laid the mug of coffee before her, "whiskey or cream on that?"
"Keep it black," she replied as she snatched the mug and drank the black coffee, "have to say, I've been studying the mana patterns around here and something seems to be odd about this place."
"How so?" Dagda asked, "I mean, compared to Ulster, this place seems nuthin' special. Sans for a few arseholes..."
Brigid snaps her fingers, causing a few sounds of cluttering to be made before a floating crystal ball beckoned towards her. She then waves her fingers around it, the orb then projecting an image of her mana samples that she've collected.
"Here, the mana patterns here," she pointed at the orb, "my Relic, [Anbhair], detected a similar wavelength that I've recorded at the Grinberryall territory before it got overrun by Hellhounds. See how similar that the two are almost... identical?"
"Yeah, they look like conjoined twins, so what?" Cissonius remarked.
"It means that this place was already crawling with Demons before anyone of us schmucks from either Ulster or Avalon came ere, ya idjit," Dagda pointed out, "and unlike us, where our Demon populace fluctuated-"
"Here, it's gradually rising," Brigid pointed out, "just what does that mean? Is something... building up?"
"... Or, the people living here might've think that they've killed a Demon, but the bastard is pulling a fast one on them," Dagda also pointed out, "no one's waiting but him."
"Ugh, it's getting late," Cissonius remarked before he vaulted over the counter and headed out the door, "gonna get some fresh air before I hit the sack."
Out he went to the porch and lounged against the chair for a smoke, and looking down at the squad of Clover Kingdom's Magic Knights assigned to watch over them.
"Oi there," Cissonius greeted the Magic Knights, "how yer doing tonight?"
"We're doing fine, thank you," the stone faced Magic Knight with a light golden-beige robe replied as the Knights in black robes were sleeping.
"Well, don't stay up for too long," the Ulsterian with the pipe remarked before he tapped the ashes out of the pipe by the ledge of the porch, "... wait, does this place even have Garmrs?"
"Garmrs?" remarked the stone-faced knight.
"Wolf monsters that can either breath [Fire Magic] or [Poison Magic]. Nasty buggers, I'd tell ya," Cissonius pointed out, "can't go two seconds without seeing a whole pack of em, trust me."
"Rest assured, I will not fall to such creatures that you speak of," the stone-faced knight remarked, "for my name is Shiren Tium, the 'Stone Sentinel' of the Golden Dawn, and I shall stand firm."
"Counting on ya," the Ulsterian remarked before he headed back into the tavern building.
Leviathan's Beached Zone, Clover Island, No Man's Waves, Late Night
"It's over," Claudius remarked as Baldr was being consoled by the other Dark Elves while burying Tyr, "... now what?"
"Well, the bitch is dead, thank god," Astaroth pointed at the dead body of the stranger, her neck bent in random directions like a jagged twig, "I mean, I don't see the harm of leaving it here to rot, but you think it might be a good enough food for the Dark Elves?"
"Have you seen what's underneath her cloak?" replied Claudius, "she's nothing skin and bones! There's barely anything left of her for the Dark Elves to eat!"
"They can eat the marrows inside the bones if they want," "I mean, that's what a few memories back when I was a human can recall, something about a local hunter who taught the whole village of Hage how to prepare for a meat shortage... or at the least, that how my former life can recall it."
"I mean, sure, but considering that her body has been exposed to raw Demon particles twice in a row, allegedly, we honestly don't know where's she's been in," Claudius retorted, "for all we know, her meat might be tainted."
"Not our first time eating meat and getting a stomach bug from it, for the record," Sinmara pointed out, "I mean, we had to worry about wasting food back at mainland, but I think we're a long way from worrying about food here, what with all the fish around the island coasts."
"Alright, anyone got a knife on them?" asked Thor as he and the others converged on the dead body of the stranger, "a little thin, should last us a while if we smoke and cure her-"
The stranger, in spite of her outright-destroyed neck and wrecked body, lashed out like a wounded animal and pounced onto Thor like a rabid predator pinning down its prey after a long and exhausting chase.
Both tumbled and rolled towards where the gun was tossed away at, the struggling two now reaching their hands towards the weapon, and just before the Fallen Angels can intervene...
*BANG*
... A sound of a gunshot cracks across the dark night sky, with Big Iron in Thor's hands, and the stranger's head now sporting a freshly-carved hole running through her forehead.
"... The bitch is dead," Thor remarked as he tossed the corpse off of himself and rolled himself back up to his feet, "... how in the actual hell a snapped neck didn't kill her before!?"
"I swear, that punch was enough to level an entire cliff," Claudius protested, only to notice that something was now wrong with the corpse, "... um, Thor?"
"Yeah?" the Dark Elf replied.
"... Just what was in that thing that you shot her with?" asked the Fallen Angel, "from my observations, that carries six shots rather than our Tanegashima's one."
"... Uhh, a lead ball?" replied Thor, "why?"
Claudius points behind Thor, the latter turning his head to witness upon something horrific.
The stranger was back on her feet, despite her neck being crooked and gnarled like a thunderstruck timber, and her head missing its top, with a few bits of meat and bone hanging by its fractured fringes.
"... HOW!?" cried out Thor at the standing corpse, "I THOUGHT PEOPLE COULDN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEIR HEADS!"
"... Did she say that she was human to begin with?" Claudius recalled the stranger's words, "... oh right, Adaptors aren't fully human, insinuating that they don't follow the human laws of mortality."
"Oh no, she's dead," Leviathan remarked from the side as the braindead stranger begins to float, "what you just shot with her device was something meant for herself."
"... What do you mean?" pointed out Astaroth, "a weapon that was deliberately meant to be inflicted on its wielder!? That doesn't make any sense!"
Besides them, they hear Leviathan laughing.
"What's so funny?" asked Thor.
"... I guess there was a benefit being an artificial Demon," Leviathan said, "... especially when one's creator happens to be an overly-paranoid schizophrenic."
Claudius's face then contorts into that of one's face that have swallowed a ball of iron greased with animal fat.
"... Oh no."
"What is it?" Astaroth asked worryingly.
"I recalled Lucifuge being the creator of Leviathan, correct?" the Fallen Angel recalled, "well, there was a certain incident back down Hell where she allegedly stolen certain objects of great importance from another Elusive Evil and scattered them through her own means..."
As Claudius glanced at Leviathan, the latter was giving the former the most caustic and smuggest smirk possibly imagined in the collective imagination of all sapient being walking the face of this earth.
"... Lucifer, I do not envy your upcoming predicament in the slightest."
"DID SHE JUST TURN ONE OF THE FUCKING STIGMATAS INTO A BULLET FOR HERSELF!?" roared out Claudius, "HOW!? HOW IN THE NINE HELLS DID SHE TURN A CHTHONIC EFFIGY INTO ANOTHER SHAPE!? IT TAKES THE FLAMES OF HELL ITSELF TO EVEN HEAT THE BLACK METAL!"
"... Let's just say that angel wings burn really well," Leviathan smugly pointed out, with Claudius mentally recalling Ishmael's lack thereof when they encountered him several hours prior, "what Hell can't do, Heaven can. If hellfire isn't hot enough, an angel's flame would suffice as the ultimate smithery's furnace."
"... Milord, everyone else," gulped Claudius as the half-headless stranger's levitation reached its apex, emitting a sickening aura, "RUN-"
Next to Claudius and Astaroth, Thor's whole body then ruptures out into a literal burr of swords that formed into a perfect sphere.
Qliphoth, the Eleven Thrones of Evil, Hell
"So, a stolen Stigmata has been invoked," Satan remarked as he slouched on his throne.
One of his six eyes stared literal hole into Lucifuge's throne, the aforementioned currently not present and simply left a paper sign reading "Gone Home, FUCK OFF" pinned onto her seat. Satan then telepathically withers the paper with his other, lower-left eye staring at the sheet until it was ground to colorless ash.
"Tribute has been confirmed, precisely 1 out of 666 Dark Elves part of the transaction has been met," Ishtar pointed out as she looked at her slip of paper with the invoker's name on it, "client is confirmed to be of a human descent with some Demon particles inside of her biology... irrelevant to the current contract. Proceeding with the rest of the transaction."
She then swipes her fingertip across the sheet of paper in her hand, causing the number 1 to steadily increase in value.
"So, who's going?" asked Satan as the number on the contract increased towards the number 666, "any volunteers?"
"... Don't wanna," Belphagor grumbled mid-snore.
"As much I'd love to have a shootout at a beach, the island is too puny to withstand my magnificence," Adrammelech remarked as he struck a pose while sitting on his throne, "plus, it's not even a full moon, let alone, any sort of moon."
"Oh course, you of all people would be concerned about something small-fry as that nonsense..." Beelzebub commented as he bit off a Stygian's head that he was holding onto like a snack.
"What, you wanna take a swing?" Yetzer pestered as he hung from his own throne upside-down.
"Oh my, I'd love see him suck on the whole world with that big, meaty, mouth of his~!" Asmodeus orgasmed out while he drove all five of his fingers into his crotch area as drool cascaded from his blocky, tombstone-like teeth.
"I recall Beelzebub giving horse-cock a blowjob just a few centuries prior," Ereshkigal commented as she sat in a dignified manner on her throne.
"Yeah, and the fact that I saw his tower-sized dong sinking down at the sea of blood I was dipping in," Naamah pointed out while pouting, "thanks a lot for ruining my swim, you jackasses-"
"GUARGH!" Cain roared out as he tore off the armrests of his own throne, "WILL YOU FUCKERS, PLEASE, SHUT THE FUCK UP-"
"Transaction complete," Ishtar cut in, "Cain, you're up."
"NO NEED TO TELL ME TWICE, OLD HAG!" Cain barked back, veins bulging out of his thick black fur coat and his eyes getting redder by the second, "I'LL DO IT SO I CAN GET AWAY FROM YOU LITTLE SHITS!"
The ratel Demonic embodiment of [Hatred] then springs out of his throne and into one of Satan's six hands, of which then he shoved the Demon through the tight gaps of King Apocrypha's throne, slipping his presence out into the mortal world and towards his new vessel.
Upon reaching the First Layer, [Limbo], he comes across a wizened female whom looks as if had went through a prolonged period of physical and psychological abuse.
"So tell me," asked Cain, "what do you wish, insignificant one?"
"I wish... for the complete destruction of all whom I deem my enemies," the girl replied.
"For what reason they've earned your ire?" Cain asked another question.
"They've dared to intrude upon my sanctuary from the wretched world that I seek to destroy," the girl answered once more, "my body has been rendered useless after one last struggle, yet my soul burns with this hatred of their hypocrisy."
"What is their source of their hypocrisy?" Cain asked yet again.
"They seek to destroy all magic, in spite of them being loved by mana," the girl answered again, "the other seeks to destroy Sephira, in spite of not actively taking initiative to do so."
The latter statement then mentally recalled a certain Fallen Angel into Cain's mind. Now, it was personal.
"... From now on, your [Hatred] shall become my own," Cain pointed out, "your soul, will become mine."
"Never cared for it," the girl replied, "I just wish everyone that isn't me to be dead."
The ratel Demon then touches the girl, turning her into an ADAM. He then devours the black fruit whole, and then transforms its body into its Apocryphal Form.
"... It'll be done."
The sounds of course whirring then echoed throughout the void as Cain ripped through the veil and towards the world of the living.
Orphanage, Hage Village, Forbidden Realm, Clover Kingdom, Late Night
Shifting beneath the shared bedsheets, Nash peeked out from beneath, his ears picking up a faint, sharp sounds coming from outside of their bedroom.
"... What's that sound?" the boy mumbled to himself as he discreetly crawled out of his shared flat and tiptoes his way towards where the sound was coming from.
Ahead in the dim hallway, Nash spots a faint glow of candlelight coming from across the turnpike of the hallway.
Who could be up this late? Nash thought as he stumbled in the dark, did someone to forget to to blow out the candles?
As he got closer, the sharp sounds grew ever more present, luring Nash ever more closer and more curiouser.
Upon reaching the end of the hallway, he turns his head to find the main chapel, its candles all lit brightly superimposed against the night sky from the windows around the chapel.
"... Hello?" Nash hoarsely called out at the bizarre scenery, his voice akin to a dying frog's croak, "is anyone out there?"
No one answered, except for the sounds coming from the end.
Ever more curious, Nash sneaks towards the chapel, and in his utmost horror, find Sister Lily, kneeling before the main podium while topless, whipping her back with a thick and frayed strap of leather, leaving behind cuts and gashes spilling out blood from her pristine skin.
Nash's legs give out, causing him to fall back onto his butt, knocking over one of the candlesticks onto the stone floor, a loud clanging sound giving his position away to the bleeding nun.
"... Nash?" the boy heard Lily's voice as he curled up his whole body into a ball while facing away from her, "... did you look?"
"... I didn't mean to..." Nash sobbed, the sight of Sister Lily's bleeding back forever etched into his mind, "... I swear... I didn't mean to..."
"... Give me a second," Lily sighed out, "... I'm a little indecent right now."
The half-erotic, half-traumatic image of a topless, yet scarred Sister Lily, Nash knew, that tonight will be a night that he'll never forget in all the worst ways possible.
"... You can look now," Sister Lily spoke to Nash, the latter now seeing the former now back in her modest cloth.
The two looked away from each other in awkward silence, both mortified of what psychological scars that they've unwittingly inflicted onto each other.
"... Can we talk outside?" Nash suggested, "I feel super awkward in here."
The two then immediately find themselves sitting by the stairway before the entrance. Nash and Lily tried to speak up, but neither couldn't muster up the courage to do so.
Nevertheless, one of them inevitably broke the silence.
"So um-" the two spoke out at the same time with the same words, "oh sorry, I didn't mean-"
The awkwardness then turned into laughter at the fact that the two of them were at similar wavelengths, finding humor at their admittedly morose situation.
"... So anyway," Lily spoke first, "... I'm sorry that you had to see that."
"... What were you doing back there?" Nash asked, still trying to stomach the sight that was burned into his eye.
"Flagellation," the nun answered with a pained look on her face, "... a practice of self-harm to absolve of one's greatest sins as penance."
"... Is it about Asta?" Nash pointed out, causing the nun to break down bawling in her knees, "... I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to-"
"No, it's alright..." Lily sniffed out through her knees, her teary eyes peeking behind her cover, "... I'm just afraid that I might not be strong enough to protect you all... I'm the sister assigned to this place, the children are supposed to be my responsibility... and I was too late to save him..."
"... I know..." Nash bitterly remarked as tears fell from the corners of his eyes, "... I wish I was strong as big bro Yuno and Asta... I hate being weak... in a world where the strong does what it pleases..."
Lily then wraps the crying boy in her embrace as a form of comfort.
"... Let's just do our best to survive from now on," Lily begged as she sobbed, "... together."
"Promise me..." Nash begged, "... that you won't hurt yourself from now on... I hate the sight of blood ever since that day."
The two then shared a quiet embrace of warmth and tears outside the church, at least, up until a lamplight shone on the two of them.
"What's going on here?" a youngish-male voice spoke towards the two of them, revealed to be Rowan Hage, Hage village lord's eldest son and a part-time botanist, "it's already late. You two should be back indoors."
"... Oh, Rowan," Lily remarked, "haven't seen you outside for a while. What changed?"
"Well, with my younger sister now joining the Magic Knights, surviving two major attacks on the kingdom's inner regions, thought I pick up the slack where she left off," Rowan remarked as he showed his green armband with a yellow stripe running down the middle, "so, with the aid of my father, Baron Oak Hage, we formed a town watch in case if the Magic Knights show up a bit late in a time of crisis."
"... Can I join?" asked Nash, seeing the chance to make a difference for himself and the others.
"Appreciated, but no," Rowan replied, causing Nash to be downturn, "I mean, wait until you're a bit older? Last thing we need are children sticking their necks out for a sake of some old guys like us... no offense?"
"None taken," Lily remarked as she shook her head, "come on Nash, let's go back in-"
Suddenly, the night sky around them became a lot darker all of the sudden.
"... Sister?" asked Nash as his head sweated profusely, "... are the clouds covering the moon?"
"It's new moon," Lily remarked while her heartbeat began to accelerate at gradual rate, "even then, there should be some starlight..."
"... That ain't no new moon," Rowan gulped out as he and the others looked up, only to find the night sky swarming with giant, tower-sized swords suspended in the air above their heads, the similar sight being found as far as their eyes can see, with other giant swords being found floating around the Demon Skull that Hage is famous for.
"Nash," Lily sternly ordered the frightened boy, "wake the others up."
All three of them began to wake up the rest of the village at this utterly bizarre night.
Leviathan's Beached Zone, Clover Island, No Man's Waves, Late Night
"... What the hell," Astaroth stuttered out in utter horror as he was earthbound to his knees, "... the actual fuck just happened."
In an instant, every single Dark Elf around them had their bodies burst out into chestnut burrs, with each individual spine being a sword blade that exploded out of their bodies, turning them into perfect spheres that rolled around them as their mangled bodies, men, women, children, and the elderly alike were dripping with blood that trickled down their jutting steel spires.
In a matter of seconds, the entirety of what remained of the Dark Elf populace has been consigned to extinction.
"Milord," Claudius croaked out, "don't freak out, but there's something you need to see up there."
The two look up, and find the skies themselves blanketed with floating swords each the size of grimoire towers, their tips pointed towards the earth, ready to fall towards the earth to smite anything in their way down.
"... That's overkill, even for me," Astaroth gulped out.
"The overly-excessive amount of weapons..." Claudius remarked as he looked towards the half-headed corpse floating in the air, the fresh orifices now bubbling with blood, "... we're dealing with Cain, the seventh of the Eleven Elusive Evils, and the bearer of the sin of [Hatred]."
"Okay, how strong is he, aside from LITERALLY MANIFESTING GIANT-ASS SWORDS AS FAR AS I CAN SEE THE FUCKING HORIZON!?" cried out Astaroth.
The Fallen Angel gulps.
"To put it simply," Claudius pointed out, "we're going to need to fight, for it won't let us run."
"Works for me!" replied the Prince as he flew towards the half-headed stranger in the air, Ravager in hand and swung towards the body with all his might.
The half-headed body then stops the swing by catching Ravager's edge between its fingertips.
"... So, this is the Prince of War that stands in my way?" the half-headed corpse spoke, much to Astaroth's shock, "... just because you're weak doesn't mean I should hate you less."
Before the Prince can protest, the corpse then flicks the former's forehead with enough force to part the entire island across its vertical half, ripping the Fallen Angel's body across the earth, leaving behind a canal for the seawater to flow into the cavity that parted the entirety of Clover Island.
"Eyesores... every last one of you..." a guttural and coarse voice ripped across the air, "... get out of my sight."
The corpse raises its right hand, followed up by a long blade bursting out of its palm.
"[Weapon Manifestation Magic: Mass Production-Damocles Industry]."
The hand is then sent down, and all of the giant swords fell towards the earth.
EVERYWHERE ELSE WITHIN THE CONTINENT
The blades of giants appeared at one night.
As one woke, the others were aroused from their slumbers.
Men, women, children, the elderly alike.
The poor, the rich, the pristine, the filthy, the noble and the wicked.
From the highest of bastions to the lowest of hovels.
None of those differences mattered as all of whom were walking on the same earth and watched underneath the same sky.
Everywhere, the signs of the coming tragedy were manifested.
And at the command of one whose rotting, pitch-black heart beats in the rhythm of hatred in its purest form...
... As all hell broke loose as the skies of steel fell towards the earth.
Law of [Hatred]
Harmony and peace are but the past
Life and prosperity are lies whispered by the holy
The only truth is death and destruction
Right and wrong will be decided by the survivors
Cleanse all life that have wronged the one
Exempt no one for they shall never repent
The one sword shall be the monolith that shall be the sole object of prayer
The heart shall roar of fury
The eyes will sting of spite
The hands shall firm of resolve
The blood will be air breathed in
As [Hatred] ruins all
MANIFESTATION OF CAIN, THE SIN OF [HATRED]: REALIZED
STIGMATA TRANSACTION: CONFIRMED
SYNCHRO RATE: 100%
"NOW DIE! EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!"
Two more blades of wrought iron, one from the left palm, the other geysering out of the remaining lower half of the destroyed head from the orifice. The destroyed neck contorted into a row of steel fangs, and a massive and snaking tongue that was forked at its tip, and from the freshly-formed maw, shrieked out an unholy howl that caused the sea itself to boil and the earth to melt.
However, in the face of such suffocating and and toxic [Hatred], one other sin stood firm.
"... Lucifer..." Cain growled out as he spotted the Fallen Angel rallying the other remaining Ars Goetia to battle, "... why won't you just die?"
The Fallen Angel shoots him a look at the sin of [Hatred].
"... [Pride]," growled the [Hatred], "fine then, I'll keep kicking your bloated head in until CANDY COMES OUT!"
Cain then summons and exceptionally-large sword and plants it down into the bottom of the ocean, from half of its grip to its pommel were visible above the stirring waters below.
The sin of [Hatred] then lands on the improvised foothold, crouches down, and spring sits whole body towards the Fallen Angels.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes: Well, as I was writing this after Midterms and getting my feet wet into Othello and Final Papers, my phone decided to be a bitch and start spaz out. First, I was blocked from Arknights and Cardfight! Vanguard ZERO with the label "App is Not Working" (thankfully, it was resolved and I was able to play it the next morning), then, after that, Fate/Grand Order the application can't get past the black screen after the white disclaimer page, and well, I'm honestly a bit worried and stressed out. Even worse, it had to happen at the release of the Tokugawa Labyrinth Event of all times, so while everyone else are rolling for Kama, I can't even get into the game.
Granted, I might've deleted some data in my phone's memory, some of them labeled as "Fate/Grand Order", but before you accuse me of deleting my own file, Arknights and Cardfight! Vanguard ZERO, I was able to retrieve my data back just fine, so that can't be it.
I'm starting to assume that it's because of Samsung's servers starting to go to shit, but as soon I get back my access to F/GO, I'm going to have to take more stricter account management.
So rant over, let's get to the meat and potatoes of this chapter.
First, not sure how the conversation with the stranger turned out, and there might be a little bit of "Too Dumb to Live"/"What an Idiot!" moments, but in my defense for the "stranger", having little to no conversations with other people and secluding one's self in a deserted island for half a century kinda takes a mental toll, and having someone else to talk to other than a killer Demon whale. At that point, one would subconsciously jump at any opportunity to grandstand, doubly so when wielding Black Clover!world's first revolver pistol. "Power-Mad" is the proper term for the stranger here, and Claudius's [Pride] won't let him break his promise of protecting the Dark Elves, so reckless action is unwarranted. Buy time, not make things worse.
Second... I have nothing to say about me including Lily flagellating herself, but then again, that's my final ode to my past edgy self as I start to make an attempt to move past my initial tone. Also, Rowan appears after +40 chapters, and to be honest, as I wrote this fic further and further, I kinda forgot that he existed, or rather, I couldn't find a place to fit him in until now-ish.
However, the Dark Elves subplot was starting to get bloated, so I had to make them their own downfall just to avoid a plot tumor via Cain. Plot reaper aside, even I started to notice that the cast was getting a little too bloated, so...
... God my mistakes are starting to bite me in the ass. Oh well, least I can do is work with it.
With that said, what do you think of this Saga?
Please leave a comment or a review, for I'd like to know what my audience is thinking!