Between binging Batman Beyond, trying to 100% LEGO games, and working on my college classes, the next true chapter will probably be a ways away. In the meantime, enjoy this teaser.
In his mind, Nicodemus cursed the rain falling from the sky. Only inside his mind, though. It would not do to seem as if he were not in control of the situation. No matter what happened, he needed to continue to appear confident. Panic would only lead to mistakes.
After all, what difference would it make that he couldn't use his magic fog because the rain would wash it out of the air? He had no shortage of other tricks. Demonic Beasts, both traditional and artificial. Humans mutated in other ways, twisted in order to make them stronger. Spiders the size of horses. Twenty warriors bred and trained to match the strength of Crest bearers, not counting himself. Likely the traitorous Death Knight did not realize Nicodemus had already replaced him and that fool, Odesse, and with two Knights far stronger than Jeritza and Odesse had ever been. And in addition, Thales had offered him the use of the Disciples of Orpheus. Eight necromancers were at his beck and call, with the legions buried within the Tomb of the Agarthans at their fingertips.
For the human armies, that would be enough. But the presence of Indech and Macuil made things complicated. Fortunately, Nicodemus had options. The scions of Sothis were not the only entities with power. There were fiends that could be summoned, if you knew how to do it. After hours of searching, Nicodemus had found one that might be able to kill the dragons.
Assuming, of course, that it didn't kill them first.
"I don't like this," the false Cornelia Arnim gave voice to the doubts of all of those present. "Do we really need the aid of this monster?"
"I'm afraid so," Nicodemus said. "Thales denied us the use of the Elites and the Titanoi. Even with our Demonic Beasts, we cannot fight three dragons, especially not with the Church's golems present."
"Even so, how can we be sure this creature will not turn on us?" Cornelia questioned.
"Likely, it will," Nicodemus said. "But fighting three dragons should weaken it enough for us to finish it. And our newest Knight of Styx has some experience with such beings."
"I don't know," the Knight in question responded. Even at a glance, it was obvious this Knight was neither human nor Agarthan. He was eleven feet tall, and covered in thick body hair. "The last time I fought one of these things, it was a half-breed, and I was juiced up on dark magic. And I still almost died. And you want to summon the real deal?"
"I understand your concerns, Blood," Nicodemus told them. "But the fact remains that we have little choice. I have no intention of dying today, nor do I intend to leave Shambhala to its fate. If this thing can grant us victory, then I will accept the consequences. If you are unable to do the same, then leave."
No one did leave. Drinker of the Blood of His Enemies was no coward, the Agarthans were loyal to Shambhala and would not let it fall, and the two human Knights of Styx were loyal to Nicodemus himself. None of them had any intention of letting the approaching army breach the gates of Shambhala.
"Then, let the summoning begin," spoke Tacitus, the necromancer placed in charge of the summoning. The old man bound in the center of the summoning circle screamed in fear as he felt the fiend appear behind him.
His fears were soon justified. The creature, seeing its helpless prey, began cutting him to pieces with its claws, ensuring that it wouldn't make a fatal wound too quickly. It wanted the pain to last.
The creature simply appeared wrong, in every sense of the word. Despite being humanoid, it was just a bit too tall, and too thin. Its arms were too long, and they led to hand that were too big, with fingers tipped by claws sharper than those of any animal. Its face was inhuman as well, with a mouth that was too wide and filled with sharp teeth. And none of those present had any intention of looking it in its yellow eyes. Its body was covered in fur of a sickly yellow color. Furthermore, its very presence simply felt wrong, as if it didn't belong in reality at all.
When the monster had finished torturing the old man to death, it turned to its summoners. "Who dares summon me?"
"It was on my order," Nicodemus spoke up.
"Foolish mortal," the monster spoke. Even its voice was horrible, as if the sound of a nail scraping against metal could form words. "Do you presume to command me?"
"I do not," Nicodemus assured. "I know of you, Agony of the Body and Soul. I know what horrible fate awaits those who would try to control you. I brought you here not with a command, but with an offer, an opportunity."
"What is your offer?" Agony asked.
Nicodemus spoke, and Agony smiled.