Chapter Seven Into the Shrine of Night

Trent looked up in surprise at the knock at his door. The room itself was a lot nicer than he'd expected; then again, he hadn't known that Zelas lived in a palace like this. It was spacious; easily a thousand square feet, with full bathroom and bathing facilities. The furnishings were simple, but perfectly satisfactory; bed, desk, chair, and a large series of bookcases holding various small sculptures or such that he assumed had been the property of whoever had built this place before Zelas came.

Pausing just long enough to return his flute (he silently resolved to figure out some time and place where he could get a decent period of practice/relaxation in), he called out, "come in."

It proved to be Zelas.

The monster lord smiled sweetly at him, stepping through the doorways to flounce onto the bed next to him. "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

Trent gave her an odd look, but considered. He needed information on the shrine, or whatever it was that contained the sword of Falaris. Granted, he could always just prowl around until he found it, but having her cooperation would make things a LOT simpler. "In exchange for information on the shrine?"

Zelas shrugged unconcernedly. "If you want. I'm certainly willing to help."

Trent nodded calmly. "Well, what were you interested in?"

Zelas's smile turned sultry. "I was speaking with Xellos; he mentioned a number of...talents you have. Things not readily apparent, but partially from your heritage and partially from training. I was just curious..."

--------

Filia paused as she went towards Trent's room. She'd concede that if nothing else, Zelas had been a good host. The rooms had been spacious, well-furnished, and no one had tried to kill them during the night. That didn't mean she TRUSTED the mazoku; given the choice she'd stick close to the other members of her party.

Turning the last corner between her's and Trent's room, she frowned. "What are YOU doing here?"

Deep Sea dolphin looked up from where she'd been eavesdropping, her face bright red with suppressed laughter. Not trusting herself to speak, she ignored the golden dragon priestess's rudeness and gestured for her frantically. Puzzled, Filia knelt beside the monster lord to place her ear against the wooden door.

"Oh...please...not there..."

Filia's eyes widened considerably; about four sizes.

"What's the matter? As I recall, you're the one who requested this. Really, just try to enjoy it; I think you'll like it over time."

"Wait...oh!...OH! Oh, I take that back. Go right ahead."

The dragoness felt a vein start throbbing in her forehead at the pleading tone.

Deep Sea Dolphin finally got her voice under control. "I came here about five minutes ago, and THIS is what I heard. They've been going at it non- stop since before I arrived."

"Wait...go lower...yes, right there..."

Her somewhat hair-triggered temper finally reaching the boiling point, Filia chose action. Yanking her mace out from her garter, she slammed open the door, screeching, "WHAT do you think you two are DOING?!"

Trent looked up in puzzlement at Filia's outburst. "Uh...did you need something?"

Zelas frowned from where she lay on her stomach. "He's really quite good at this. I reccomend you try it out."

Filia felt her face redden in embarrassment, though not for the reason I'm sure is going through your dirty little hentai/ecchi mind right now.

Trent sat back on the bed, fully clothed despite the rather suggestive dialogue earlier. In point of fact, the only skin revealed by his outfit was his face, neck, and arms below the elbows of his rolled up sleeves. Zelas was similarly fully clothed, lying full-length.

Trent shook his head at the two intruders, turning his attention back to Zelas. Placing both hands at the small of her back, he leaned forward, and thrust them forward slightly, drawing a loud pop. "Honestly, I never imagined the monster race had physiological problems at all; I thought you were just astral constructs or something."

Zelas purred as he went lower to start working on her ankles. "In our true forms, yes. But when we take a human or near-human form, we acquire almost all the little problems that you people have."

Trent 'hmmm-ed' as he finished off popping her ankle joints, working towards a foot massage. "I never imagined you people would suffer from stiff joints; that just seems so...mundane for demons."

Filia cleared her throat, their dialogue having proved long enough for her blush to subside. "Uh...what ARE you doing to her?"

"Adjustments. You know, chiropractic medicine?" Trent finished off, gesturing for the monster lord to hop off his bed. "Rei Magnus was originally a healer priest you know. Some of the texts I studied in his lab covered things other than just magic and the nature of this world; I also learned a little bit of non-magical healing. Not much, just a lot of simple things that add up over time. You know, sterilization, basic physical therapy, massage therapy; stuff like that. You need an adjustment?" he finished off, massaging his wrists.

Filia stammered painfully. "Er...that won't be necessary."

"Goody, my turn then!"

Trent finished off his wrists as Deep Sea Dolphin flopped bonelessly onto his bed. "Anywhere in particular that hurts, or do you just want a kind of...well, tune-up?"

She shrugged. "Oh, just anything that you think will help."

Trent nodded as he started out at her neck. "Funny thing about the human body; you've ever heard of chakras?" He gave a sharp jerk with his hands, drawing a gasp of shock from the mazoku. "It's weird, but almost every civilization on the planet is convinced that most of the important parts of you in a spiritual or biological sense are aligned with your spine. In fact, there's one specific point that triggers a complete loss of any pain whatsoever if you hit it; right around the second or third vertebrae of the neck."

Filia just nodded wordlessly, the 'not there' finally making sense.

Trent directed her onto her side to best reach the kinks at the point where her spine met her pelvis. "A lot of this comes in handy for me in combat terms too. Knowing how the body bends teaches you all kinds of things concerning how you can dodge, how your opponent can move, where to get leverage, vulnerable spots...the list goes on and on."

Filia sat down heavily in a nearby chair. If she was any judge of what was going on, this was going to take a while.

--------

One of the strange things about humans is their proliferance. When you really think about it, how could they have survived and thrived enough to live in so many different environments? Comparatively speaking, they're generally weaker, less capable of cooperation, and last to little time to get the biggest things done. So really, humans only have about three different things going for them; their versatility, their passion and dedication (every once in a while), and their greater numbers.

Still, on an individual basis many can go beyond these.

What Valred had struggled so hard to achieve beyond any other attribute was patience.

It's easy enough when you grow up little more than a maggot, a scullery boy for the Seyruun knights. You learn the hard way that you can't fight back all the time; sometimes you just have to try and outlast them and try not to do anything rash or stupid in the process.

That had all changed the day the monster barrier had fallen.

Most people had chosen to stay behind, where things were comfortable, safe, and familiar. Not him, and not quite a large group of others from Seyruun. While their raving lunatic of a king might have been convinced that anyone who lived in the greatest city of white magic would have been joyous, he obviously didn't think it through. Any city that generates that kind of happiness index can only cause unhappiness to someone else. Namely the poor, homeless, or degenerate like himself.

Even before the expedition to the world outside the barrier had been formally proposed, he and almost forty others had packed their bags, pooled what money they had, and gone off for a grand adventure to a place where they could be kings themselves.

Patience is a virtue, this is true. It is not always used FOR virtue however. Over years of disgraced service, Valred had become extraordinarily good at manipulating people around him without their even knowing it. He'd had little choice in the matter; it was the only strength he had. Skills he put to use now with deadly effect.

By the end of the first week, six of their party was dead, another eleven of them forcibly removed for doing or helping to plot the killings. It was a source of considerable pride for him that he'd managed to manipulate almost half of his party into either death or exile, without even ONCE implicating himself. Rather, he'd become the most trusted of the group; the one entrusted with their entire meager savings.

A large part of his ability to inspire trust was based on appearance. He just didn't look like the kind of guy that you had to think twice about trusting. He was neither tall nor short, not fat, skinny, or muscular; he was fairly average in appearance and build. His face was not handsome, but it had character and the wonderful appearance of joy; he'd gotten VERY good at feigning it around the knights. His pale blue eyes sparkled with false mischief and laughter, his short ash blond hair framing a smiling face. All of it a mask of flesh.

During the second week of their journey, he'd finally made his move. He'd wasted a good portion of his money at a legitimate apothecary's shop to purchase a decent sleep potion; he'd forced himself to stay awake for three days to make sure that his tale of insomnia was reliable. He'd allowed himself deep sleep the next two days to recover; he'd need the time. Slipping the potion in the water that night, he'd been the only one spared the magic sleep. During the night he'd dragged the remaining sixteen or so (a few lucky ones had found decent positions through the journey and had withdrawn) into the brush and left them there bound and gagged. Most of them anyway; he'd come to hate a few of the most innocent, the ones most convinced that they'd find a golden land outside the barrier. A few of them would never wake up through his machinations.

In the end, he'd made it outside purely on his own. It had proven a disastrous choice on his part; no town wanted him, no kingdoms needed rulers. He cursed his companions for their part in his downfall; if even ONE of them had been useful, he could have dragged them along and used them. Now he was stuck waiting until his meager copper and silver went out and he starved to death.

Then he'd found Sirius.

Watching the overworlder preparing to leave, he'd been struck by an inspiration. In any world, he'd be miserable; that much he was convinced of. However, in a higher world, 'miserable' would be a relative quantity. He could be immeasurably happier there. And more importantly, anything he gained in overworld would be far above this little speck. Anything he gained there would be enough to make him GOD in this world.

And thus it had begun.

He'd been right about some of the things; he'd gained HUGE magical and spiritual powers there, and even held three of the five godly weapons. Now he only needed the last two, and he'd be ready. Not that he needed them at his power level oh no, he just needed to make sure that not even the tiniest pebble could impede his progress.

It was only a matter of time. His three most trusted sevants (betrayal would result in death by hellworms devouring them alive from within) held the three weapons. Soon, it would all be his.

--------

Gourry scratched his head in confusion. "Uh, Lina? Are you sure this is why we came here in the first place?"

Lina looked up from her massage. "Hmmm? No, not really."

"Then why are you just getting a kind of check-up? I thought we were here about the sword so we could find the other weapons later."

Zelgadis nodded, having managed to get his blushes under control. Nearly every one of them had ended up arriving right in the middle of Deep Sea Dolphin's adjustment/massage. It had taken Filia about fifteen minutes to completely explain what was going on; by that time, Lina had decided to indulge in his 'talents.'

That wasn't what had given him the blushes.

In the middle of his treatment, Trent had indicated that a few of his texts were still in his satchel; he'd lent Zelgadis a few on medicine. The embarrassing part being that a great many of them had involved massage and accupressure techniques that...He banished the thought. "So Lady Dolphin, what do you know about the shrine? Or about This god of night, or whatever he is?"

"Delphine."

Zelgadis nodded in understanding before he realized that he hadn't the faintest idea what she was talking about. "Excuse me, what?"

"Call me Delphine," the blue-haired mazoku lord said. "I'm sorry, but 'Lady Dolphin' just sounds silly, and Deep Sea Dolphin isn't the kind of thing you want to say over and over again in casual conversation. Just call me Delphine; I prefer it anyway."

SNIKT-SNIKT.

"Oh Gourry dear!"

The swordsman froze in shock at the voice, then vanished just before a HUGE pair of scissors managed to close in the general area of where his head had been. Eris frowned in confusion. "Hey, where'd he go?"

"That's funny, I never would have imagined that my fingers had this kind of gripping power."

Lina gaped as her gaze traced the source of the voice. "Gourry, how did you..."

Somehow, he'd managed to vertically leap sixteen feet in the air (Zelas apparently liked high ceilings), and was clinging to a pair of rafters with nothing but his fingers.

Eris grinned gleefully as her prey reappeared. "Oh come on, just a little trim? Maybe some styling gel, a little cologne? I know you'd look better."

Gourry dropped just before her flying charge was able to reach him. At the sight of her fading through the ceiling he paused, but not long. He didn't have the time; before he could make any inane comments Eris had managed to reappear, her eyes glittering as she made a few mock cuts with her scissors.

Gourry was not the smartest man in the world. He wasn't the dumbest, but he's no genius. Still, he did have two things that are in generally low supply when one stays with Lina Inverse. Practicality, and common sense. For example, when confronted by a crazed would-be mazoku barber, he did the sensible thing and started sprinting away at speeds approximately three times human norm; foot-speed honed by years of running from bandits, monsters, beast-men, and angry shop owners served him well at this moment.

Trent sweat-dropped at the sight of the warped cross of a free-for-all and a marathon. "Uh, back to the sword?"

"VALGAAV-SAMA!"

Zelgadis groaned as he was impacted by a eerily affectionate blue-haired priestess (Valgaav having used him as a living shield yet again). Though at least this time the impact was only enough to knock him out of his chair as opposed to planting him in the ground. "I'll get you for this Valgaav. I'm not sure how, I'm not sure when or where, but vengeance will be mine."

Kashura blink-blinked as she came to the realization that her hunky ancient dragon was actually a rock-skinned (and at the moment convinced that the gods were once again bored enough to start going out of their way to target him) swordsman. "Oh...sorry about that. I was aiming for - "

"Valgaav, I know."

Kashura managed a more successful glomp this time, grafting herself onto the ancient dragon while she pouted at him. "Oh, don't you like me? Why do you have to be so mean about this?"

"THE SWORD," Zelgadis prompted again.

Zelas chuckled in the psuedo-embarrassed way that those who hung around Xellos knew so well. It was usually a prelude to either gratuitious violence or a massed face-fault. "I'm afraid that the Ancient Dragons did a VERY good job of making sure that place remained a secret. I've tried to break through the barriers at least forty times, and it never worked even once." She turned to regard her priest for a moment before continuing. "Even after Xellos brought back that technique for combining black and white magic, it didn't make a dent. So I'm afraid that I really don't know anything about the insides of the shrine, or even if there IS a sword in there."

Trent was unfazed (though pleasantly surprised by the straight answer; he'd expected 'that's a secret' or something.) "No, the sword's in there. I'll trust the words of a god when I hear them. It's just a question of how we get in there."

Filia frowned in thought. "Do you have ANY information on the shrine?"

Zelas shook her head. "The only thing I know is that the golden dragons tried VERY hard to destroy it early on in the war; probably the only place that took a worse beating was their homeland. And that the shrine didn't sustain even a single scratch."

Trent stood, retrieving his coat. "Well, could we at least see the shrine? If nothing else, I imagine we can find out something useful once we actually, physically get there."

Zelas swept gracefully to her feet. "As my lord commands," she spoke, delighting in the blush that suffused his face.

--------

Delphine gave Zelas an odd look as she let Xellos lead them towards the shrine. "What was that comment supposed to mean back there? The one to the elf/dragon."

Zelas chuckled richly. "Oh, nothing really. It's just so much fun to tease him; he seems to react so strangely to my teasing."

Delphine gave her a side-long glance. "When Mazoku gain the ability to feed off positive emotions, there are...side-effects that you and I are both aware of. You wouldn't be happening to FEEL any, would you?"

Zelas turned to her in annoyance. "Don't be so cryptic; no one's listening. No, I'm not in love with him if that's what you're asking; I'm well aware that monsters can only experience those emotions they're capable of feeding off of. I like him, certainly. He's polite, attractive, powerful, easy-going, and most importantly of all he doesn't arbitrarily try to incinerate me with spirit shamanism for being a demon. Why shouldn't I like him?"

Delphine shrugged, her eyes wide with mock concern. "No need to get so defensive; I was just curious." Her smile was a bit more genuine. "Besides, as you've mentioned he has several things going for him. I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn't mind if I decided to go after him."

Zelas turned to her in curiousity, but chose to remain silent. After all, Delphine only said she'd TRY. If it came right down to it, Zelas was fairly sure that she'd win that kind of a contest. After all, he hadn't reacted so strongly to the dolphin, if she understood the events of the voyage correctly.

And besides, just because she didn't love him didn't mean she would just hand him over like that.

--------

Trent cocked an eyebrow at the sight of the shrine. "You sure this is part ancient dragon?"

Valgaav nodded, despite the fact that the question had been aimed at Xellos as much as him. "It's ours, of that I'm certain."

The shrine didn't really appear to be all that impressive, especially compared to the ground surrounding it. The entire place looked like some kind of divine trowel had cut an inverted cone out from the face of a mountain; pure rock for over a hundred yards around, seventy yards deep. The hole it rested in fit well, but there were limits; it was still quite obvious that the hole and the altar came from different places.

As for the altar itself, it was little more than a cottage-sized building cut from raw limestone and set with the bones of dead dragons. Trent personally hoped that they weren't golden or some other kind of gristly war trophy; a mausoleum was a bit easier to deal with than a head-hunter's wall.

As Valgaav stepped forward reverently to try and touch the wall, Zelas's hand shot out to stop him. "I wouldn't reccomend that. The last person who just tried to walk in got buried in a thimble. There was that little left."

"Looks fine to me," Trent remarked as he started in through the door. "You guys coming or not?"

Everyone but Valgaav suffered a collective face-fault at the dark elf's blatant lack of concern. Valgaav just shrugged it off. "At the temple in the north, all it would have taken to open the shields protecting Galfeira would have been the presence of an ancient dragon. Why should this be any different?"

Amelia groaned painfully as she pulled her face out of the bare rock. "Do we REALLY have to go in there?"

"Not really," Valgaav called from deeper inside. "Stay right here if you like; we'll get the sword on our own."

The inside of the shrine was as much a let-down as the altar itself. It stretched downward in unlit tunnels carved and unfinished out of the living rock; wide, spacious, and decently comfortable underfoot, but still just raw unfinished rock. Lighting spells took care of the gloom of the cave, but that wasn't the irritating part.

The annoying part was that the tunnels started by heading to the edge of the island, then traced around and around, as if following the path of some gigantic corkscrew to the chamber in the lowest point of the inverted mountain.

"Why precisely this round-about way?" Trent grumbled as they continued; the entire track was probably a good mile until they reached the final chamber. "I mean, this was intended for dragons; why not just a straight shaft into the center? Dragons can fly."

Lina shrugged. "Don't ask me; that weird guy said they were some kind of cult; maybe it was a religious thing for them."

Trent echoed her shrug. "I guess, but I can't see why. The spiral isn't of any particular importance to the worship of Falaris."

"Any other gods?" asked Zelgadis from behind.

Trent shook his head. "No Forcerian ones; maybe one of your gods or dragon kings here. I know of a few desert tribes who worship strange animals and symbols, but I can't see how that could have any influence here."

Nothing more was said until they finally reached the inner chamber. It was obivously the true place of worship, the only concession in the entire island to beauty or opulence. The chamber itself was still just carved from the native limestone, but the normally dull stone had been painstakingly polished and smoothed to nearly a mirror sheen. Reliefs featuring the symbols of ravens and near-new crescent moons had been etched into the walls, the corvids set with onyx and volcanic glass, the moons the bright yellow amber of a new rising.

The center of the chamber sported a simple cylendrical block of tightly grained obsidian, a smaller column of pure darkness shimmering upward from its surface. Trent stared at the scintilating sheen of black from the entrance of the chamber. "It's there. Dear gods, I can actually feel it."

Not one to advocate hesitance, Lina prepared to march forward. She wisely chose to stop just as a javelin of pure darkness lanced into the ground inches from her feet.

Trent ignored her squawks of protest, kneeling reverently. "Great lord of night, divine one who guards half the earth, let your shield rest and allow my feet to touch hallowed soil. Great lord..."

The ground began rumbling, responding to Trent's hushed prayers. The pillar of darkness ceased its odd shimmering, like oil refracted on water to withdraw into a single, immobile pillar. Trent stood, still serious. "It's done. The protections have been unsealed just enough to allow entry into the chamber; the final protections won't be dispelled until the sword has been removed from the pillar itself." He took one step closer into the chamber, steeling himself.

The only reason he wasn't instantly skewered with his first step was due to the orihalcon mail layered within his coat. As it was, he felt lucky that the massive claymore only managed a gash.

Lina's eyes widened in shock at the sight of the demonically glowing, greenish creature. "Uh...anyone care to explain?"

Trent winced as he applied a recovery spell to his shoulder. "Don't come any closer; it only attacked because I stepped into the barrier. It probably won't bother any further attacks if you stay out. Or at least until after he kills me."

Zelas stared at the thing. "What IS it?"

Trent sighed in relief as the pain faded away with his wound. Never underestimate the usefulness of healing spells. "Something I never knew could exist. Hyuri unchained."

Zelgadis felt a sweat-drop form as the thing started howling and frothing at the mouth. Especially odd, as the frothing was nothing but a special effect from the creature. "What precisely is a Hyuri?"

Trent leisurely dodged the attempted swipe with its retrieved claymore. "Hyuri is a spirit that's not totally uncommon in Lodoss. Its area of influence is in rage, hatred, and insanity. Normally you only run across these things possessing others, turning them into nigh-unstoppable berserkers."

Gourry watched appreciatively as Trent continued dancing around the crazed, lumbering swipes from the apparition. "So how do you fight one that's not possessed?"

Trent shot upward, sending an elmekia lance through the spirit with no apparent effect. "Well, with normal Hyuri you can either kill the possessee, or if you get lucky there'll be some kind of trigger that forces it back; usually another person the berserker cares for. With one like this? I only have ideas." Landing, he drew Soul Crusher from subspace. "Feeding time."

The spirit howled in agony as Trent hurled the sword at it, the far stronger demon within the blade eagerly feasting on the enraged spirit. In moments, the only thing left was the fading echo of the demon's howl.

Lina sweat-dropped, watching him pick up the blade and nonchalantly re- sheathing it. "Uh...that works."

Trent shrugged as he turned to the altar, his face approaching seriousness. "I've only fought a berserker one other time; about the only thing I could do was run away and pray that I didn't get in the way of his sword; I honestly doubt I could have beaten him. This time I had something that could actually get the job done; more the sword than me."

His seriousness having completely returned, Trent faced the pillar of darkness obscuring a sword that he'd been promised was stronger than any other weapon he'd ever touched. Steeling himself, he extended one hand into the darkness.

It was not as bad as he'd imagined it to be; without the flow there was almost no force to resist his hand's passage, and the only other sensation he got was one of almost agelessness from within. Still, he had a feeling that if anyone else had tried to go for the sword, they'd be minus a hand.

His hand fumbled around inside the pillar for almost a minute before he finally managed to wrap his fingers around the hilt. Bracing himself one last time, he began pulling upward, prepared to try and force the blade if it wouldn't come easily.

With no more than a whisper of stone against steel, the sword came free.

--------

When one is a god, then normal terms are insufficient. Such mundane trifles as life and death become negligible to ones of such great power; immortality ensures that gods and the powers they represent remain unless far greater powers ensure their demise.

In short, Kardis was no where near as dead as Trent would have preferred.

That didn't mean that she was happy; survival is usually enough to please people. However, letting herself be killed by an uppity dark elf had NOT been something she'd tolerate. Okay, he might have apparently been part dragon; that didn't mean she'd sit back.

The problem has to do with the rules of near-death for gods. Kardis's influence in the world of Forceria had been effectively destroyed; death in that world made it impossible for her to ever return to that world. She had other worlds she could influence, but that wasn't the point. Her power had been lessened, and she would never allow that.

Her power was still sufficient to see Trent in the middle of Falaris's altar. And most delicious of all ironies, that was the one source of power that she could use against him. After that uppity Elder God had dared to encourage the elf to destroy her, his power would now be the source of his death.

Immortality (life wasn't a good term for her), was good.

--------

Trent gazed reverently at the sword as the darkness faded away from it. To a degree it resembled its opposing force, the sword Spiritus Falis. Aside from some minor coloration issues, they were nearly identical. Sanguis Falaris was over four feet long from pommel to tip, the blade a good forty inches long. Straight and untapered for the majority of its length, the portions near the hilt flared outward into a pair of scallops, the watered steel blade meeting the hilt of carved onyx and ebony. All along the length of the blade, some unidentifiable black material had been etched in, forming a complex web of dark lines reminiscent of ivy, minute ravens flocking among the vines.

Beside Trent, the darkness flowed into a long, slender black and gold shape; the greatsword's sheath. Trent didn't bother to look as he clasped it in his hand, preparing to sheath the blade.

"DIIIIEEEE, SHADOWLIGHT!!!"

Trent turned to regard the bellower coldly as he sent rains of crimson lightning towards the elf. He recognized the robes readily, though the caster's next words removed any doubt. "IN THE NAME OF KARDIS, DIE!"

The crimson electricity shattered itself against the divine shields unleashed by the sword; it was little more than a light show. Trent turned towards the entrance, where the momentarily stunned Lina and Co were preparing to charge into the fray. "Stay out of this. He's mine."

The red-cloaked priest cackled insanely. "Yes, YES! LET YOUR ARROGANCE BE YOUR DEATH KNELL, BLASPHEMER!"

The elf ignored the screams as he felt himself align with the power in the sword of darkness. Falaris had spoken the truth; in his hands, this weapon was by far mightier than Spiritus Falis, the Holy Sword. The darkness wrapped itself around him, embracing him, whispering assurances to him. In the grasp of the divine darkness, he could imagine, if even for a mere instant, how it felt to wear the Cloak of Night, to be Falaris Himself. It passed in mere moments, but it had been there. The power, and the knowledge to wield it remained.

And Trent did not hesitate for even a second.

Staring coolly at the still ranting and cackling priest, he raised the sword and unleashed its energies, sending a massive pulse of black energies to batter his opponent, pounding him into the walls. "You talk too much."

Above, Kardis ground her teeth in frustration. She finally had a chance, and her fool priest was too damn WEAK! Grimacing at the exertion necessary, she chose to proverbially take matters into her own hands, the dying priest transformed in an instant to nothing more than a massive conduit for her wrath.

The priest gasped, his gasp giving way to a choke, and finally a full- throated roar of essence deep pain. Then the roar choked itself away, as a gutteral voice moaned from a throat never meant to carry such words. "yOU dARED tO oPPOSE mE. yOU aRE sTRONG, bUT yOU aRE nOT a gOD. yOU wILL fEEL tERROR, aND yOU wILL fEEL mY rAGE. aND iN tHE eND, I wILL sUCCEED." With those last words, the priest died, unleashing a surge of crimson light.

Trent was one of the last of a race of ancient dragons; the power of that bloodline made him nearly six hundred times stronger than a golden dragon such as Filia. He was still weaker than Xellos or Valgaav, but his latent power was vast. In his possession he held a sword of divine light, and a sword of divine darkness.

Yet in the end, Kardis had spoken the truth.

He was not a God.

The surge of light couldn't kill him, nor could it harm those who had come with him; it wasn't intended to. It's only intent now was to send them far away, send them out of their reach and to terrify them.

It's purpose was to make them feel weak.

Amelia and Filia simultaneously yelped in shock as the shockwave of crimson light tore the altar to shreds. What had once been an island of stone in a pit was nothing now but a blasted crater.

As she stared at the smoking ruin, Filia summed up their predicament quite aptly. "We are SO dead."

--------

Falaris frowned, panting shallowly as he surveyed the damage.

Anubis stared at him in shock. "You contained that blast? To what end?"

Falaris sighed. "I told you; I don't have very many worshippers I can take any real pride in. I don't intend to lose any of them." He gestured to three new portals, each one sporting a handful of the groups; Trent Zelas and Delphine, Gourry Lina Sirius and Eris, and lastly Valgaav Kashura and Sirius. "I wasn't able to contain it totally with so little warning, so I had to transmute what I couldn't contain. They've been transported away to different parts of the world."

Anubis shook his head as he looked over the new changes in this game. "The only choice we have left now is hope."

To be continued...