(Author's Notes: Here's Chapter 51! We check in with the baddies now. ...I'm slightly proud of the title.

Thanks for all the continued support! I appreciate all the feedback. Enjoy and let me know what you think!)

Chapter 51: Infernal Affairs

A cold, grave wind swept across the Gloaming Fields. It rattled the gnarled branches of the dead trees and scattered loose dirt across the plains. The twin moons cast their pallid light across the gothic landscape. The pale white glow provided just barely enough light to illuminate the way ahead.

The Demon Lords travelled down a wide, dirt road known as the Highway of the Damned. It was a long highway that stretched from Shroud and ran northwest towards the cities of Sepulcrum and Vespers. As such, it crossed through the feudal lands of the Desolate Moors.

Lucemon, Bagramon, Barbamon, Lilithmon, and Demon all travelled in black carts at the head of the army. Beelzebumon, ever the defiant one, still insisted on riding his motorcycle ahead of the others. The rest of the Demon Lords' army, totalling about two thousand now, followed behind them in a semi-orderly fashion down the highway.

The highway ran alongside a long, deep river that flowed downwards from the Lost Mountains in the north east before bending and heading west towards the Delta Ocean. The Weeping River, as it was known, was calm and placid. The moons reflected in the gentle current, disrupted only when a massive creature broke the surface of the water. The massive, crimson body of Leviamon swam up the length of the Weeping River, parting the water around him and causing it to splash up onto the embankments with his huge mass.

While the river ran parallel to the highway on the left side, over on the right side was a vast cemetery. The moonlight reflected eerily off of the numerous headstones and mausoleums that decorated the unholy terrain. Every so often, a few curious ghost Digimon would poke their heads up from around the graves and stare at the passing army of demons and undead.

Many in the army had wounds of varying degrees. Those who had been too wounded to move had been left behind. Although they were, by all accounts, retreating, the blow to morale was offset by the huge spoils that they had received, along with the fact that they had finally been able to let off some pent up steam. Many of the soldiers were bragging to each other about how they killed however many soldiers or how much they had been able to loot before they left. Although they hadn't achieved their original objectives, the Demon Lords had been able to spin it to make it feel like a victory. The legions of demons were generally pleased and excited for more.

Lucemon: Falldown Mode sat inside the Devidramon-driven cart. He rested his cheek against his fist, with his elbow propped up on the window sill. The burgundy curtains were pulled open and he boredly stared out the left window. Every so often, his icy blue eyes would land on Leviamon and an acidic frown would appear on his face.

Bagramon sat across from Lucemon. His left eye was closed as he meditated on the events of the past week.

So much blood had been spilled. Had it been worth the gains that they had made? He had to hope so. Although many of their soldiers had been killed, they had increased their war chest considerably. He supposed now they had more leverage in negotiations with the lukewarm demon aristocrats and black claw mercenary groups, whose support they would need.

Bagramon glanced up at Lucemon, noticing his sour expression. "Is there something wrong?"

"No. Nothing at all," Lucemon replied, his furrowed brows smoothly relaxing. He looked out the window again and saw that they were coming to an intersecting road in the highway. He recognised it as the road that led off towards NeoVamdemon's demesne. Lucemon rapped his knuckles on the wall of the carriage. "Stop here," he ordered the Devidramon.

The gothic carriage came rolling to a smooth stop in the middle of the crossroads. Lucemon opened the door and stepped gracefully out of the Devidramon-drawn carriage. The Demon Lord of Pride touched down on the ground like a falling feather. He turned around and raised a hand, signalling to the army behind him.

The cavalcade of carriages immediately rolled to a stop at Lucemon's command. As soon as they did, the Nightmare Soldiers promptly halted behind the crossroads. Nobody dared move without Lucemon's say so.

"We stop here!" Lucemon spoke up, turning around and sweeping his arm out towards the swaths of legions and their commanders.

With a flick of his head, he swept his blond hair aside and smiled charmingly. "You have all done a remarkable job, and I commend you for our victory! Although we have lost some honoured martyrs, our war is only just beginning! This is merely the first step as we climb our way back up to the Sky Colonies! This will be our first victory of many! We will not stop until we have regained our rightful place in the Digital World!" Lucemon declared, looking around at his army.

"We will bring holy justice down upon the Three Great Heretics and their mindless followers! We will trample beneath our feet the Royal Knights and the other heathens of the Two False Faiths! We will bring glory to the demon race and show the world that we are not to be vilified, but lauded and feared! We will dismantle the chains of injustice that enslave this world! We will stand up to the false god and tear down its deceitful order! We, the Demon Lords and our faithful followers, shall show the Digital World a glimpse of what hell is like! We will conquer, plunder, and reap fame and glory for ourselves!" Lucemon passionately promised.

Excited and passionate cheers erupted from the ranks of the Nightmare Soldiers. Their roars split the silence of the night. From the way they reacted, one wouldn't have thought that they just retreated from a battle.

Leviamon merely sneered and rolled his eyes as the crowd of soldiers hailed Lucemon.

Bagramon watched from within the carriage as Lucemon delivered his rousing speech to their followers. He certainly was charismatic; he would give him that. After all, it had been Lucemon's very words that had given a voice to his discontent and stirred him to rebellion in the first place. He could not deny the fallen angel's power of persuasion.

However, Bagramon was no longer his follower. He had been planning this for decades while the Seven Demon Lords were locked away. This was as much his rebellion as it was Lucemon's. However, he would never say as much. He quietly allowed Lucemon to take the lead. Bagramon preferred to direct things from the background, as he had always done.

Barbamon looked out of his and Lilithmon's carriage, trying to see what all the fuss was about and why they had stopped. "What is he doing…?" Barbamon grumbled, tapping his finger on his staff impatiently.

Lilithmon gazed out the window with a blasé expression, her cheek resting against her hand. "Being the centre of attention, as usual," she boredly replied. "He simply can't help himself."

Lucemon smiled smugly and raised his hand to quiet the fervent cheers. "However, we must rest up and prepare for the next move. This is where we depart. Commanders; dukes, duchesses, counts, marquis, viscounts, and barons of this dark and wonderful land! Take your troops and return to your demesnes and fiefdoms for the time being! As soon as we are ready to depart for our next campaign, we, the Demon Lords, shall call upon your support again," he told them. "Go. Enjoy the taste of the spoils. There will be more waiting in the future."

With that, the demon aristocrats began to organise their personal forces, the army starting to split off into groups. Hundreds of Nightmare Soldiers began leaving at a time, heading down the different roads towards each aristocrat's personal territory.

As this happened, the Demon Lords began emerging from their carriages. Leviamon stopped swimming and crawled halfway onto the river embankment. Realizing that everybody had stopped, Beelzebumon halted about a hundred meters ahead of them and frustratedly shrugged.

Demon stepped out of the cart and walked over to Lucemon, Bagramon, Barbamon, and Lilithmon. "Lucemon?" he questioned, casting his piercing, blue eyes towards the elegant fallen angel. "Why did you disband our army? What if the Royal Knights attack?"

"They won't. And if they do, we will know about it," Lucemon confidently responded. "It is better if our soldiers feel… comfortable. Let them relax and relish in our victory. There is no point in having them sit around on aristocrats' plots of land. We can easily raise them again if we need to."

"We should be drilling them. They are amateurish and undisciplined. Did you not see their performance in New Terminal?" Demon challenged. "The fact that they turned tail like scalded cats fleeing a sinking ship shows just how weak and craven they are."

Lucemon folded his arms and thought about it. "Hm… I see your point. However, give them three days of reprieve. Then you can whip them into shape," Lucemon acquiesced.

"Fine," Demon conceded tersely. "But I want patrols along the border. We cannot afford any moments of weakness. The Royal Knights will be keen to capitalize on any misstep."

Leviamon shuffled partway up the bank so that his eyes were at level with the rest of the present Demon Lords. "So, what's the plan now?" he asked.

Lucemon shifted his head and cast a cold leer over his shoulder towards the demonic crocodile.

Bagramon glanced towards Leviamon as well. "We do what we were supposed to do before we were waylaid. We need to consolidate our power here," he explained. "After the Heavenly War, the fallen angels who were exiled came here to the Gloaming Fields. This is a feudal land that is highly decentralized. The many aristocrats of the Gloaming Fields have their own personal armies, lands, and economies. Although several have united behind us, there are many who are either cautiously neutral or outright hostile to our presence. It isn't just the various duchies and counties that we need to exert our influence over, but the independent cities of Sepulcrum and Vespers as well."

"Yes, you mentioned that the Gloaming Fields is a complex patchwork of alliances, rivalries and vassals," Barbamon mused. "It is a political labyrinth. We must navigate it to centralize our power and create a solid foundation for our campaign."

"Rather than navigating the maze, we simply smash through it," Demon suggested. "We bring to heel all those who refuse to kneel."

"And waste monpower and goodwill fighting pointless civil wars?" Lilithmon questioned with a roll of her eyes. "You are a brutish general, so you don't understand that these things require a softer touch. The pen is often a mightier tool than the sword."

"I understand perfectly, Lilithmon. We have a preponderance of power and we should use it. Fear is a powerful motivator, and these weak and selfish nobles will crumble and surrender to our will when we sic Leviamon on their doorsteps," Demon coldly explained.

"What about me?" Leviamon asked, glancing back over upon hearing his name.

"Nothing; you aren't important," Barbamon dismissively waved. He quickly turned his attention back to the conversation. "I believe that a combination of these approaches would be best. We start with persuasion, using Lucemon, Bagramon, Lilithmon, and myself, with our aristocratic supporters as mediums. We try to convince them that the wind is blowing in our direction. Those who cannot be persuaded with words can be bribed with the wealth I obtained from New Terminal."

Bagramon nodded. "Specifically, the nobles should agree to swear an oath of fealty to our cause. If they do not donate their armies, wealth, and land to us, then there is no point in doing any of this. A handful of semi-independent nobles are weak and easily fractured. In order to have a chance of standing up to the Heavenly Choir or the Royal Knights, we need a united land and a centralized power base," he explained to the Demon Lords.

"And if sweet-talking and throwing money at them fails to work?" Demon questioned.

"Those that won't be bribed and cannot be charmed will be met with force," Lucemon calmly decided. "We will take out the leaders and absorb their estates and armies. As Bagramon says, we must form a united state from which to launch our crusade against God. Those who refuse to comply are enemies of our cause – and enemies of our cause are things to be destroyed."

"Fine, although I suggest that we make an example of the first noble who refuses our direct overtures," Demon stated. "This will show the others that they are to refuse us at their own peril."

Lucemon nodded with his omni-present smile. "The carrot works best in tandem with the stick."

"Very well," Lilithmon concurred with a sly smirk. "In that case, I will go to Sepulcrum and see if I can sway the mayor to our way of thinking."

Bagramon nodded at Lilithmon. "Very well. I am going to continue to NeoVamdemon's castle. I have some things to attend to there."

"I shall accompany you," Lucemon decided. "I want to find a castle that is in a defensible position for us to use as a primary base."

"Then I'll come too," Demon told him. "I know more about military matters than you do."

"Yet I am a superior strategist," Barbamon boasted, looking at Demon with a smirk. "You go ahead though. I'll tell you later if you are doing a good job."

Demon leered at Barbamon in an ominous silence. The hooded demon slowly turned away and extended his wings. Without announcing his departure, he took to the air and began flying down the road towards where Beelzebumon was boredly waiting.

As the Demon Lords spoke, a Phantomon floated over uncertainly and bowed before the Demon Lords. "Begging your pardon, my lords…"

Barbamon cast an eye towards the small spectre. "Yes, yes, go on, speak," he told him.

"Yes, well… I am from the Seventh Legion. Our commander and lord, Count Mephismon, sadly fell in battle," the Phantomon explained. "What will happen to his estate and his vassals?"

At this, Barbamon's face suddenly lit up. He walked to the Phantomon's side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah… yes. What a tragedy… You see, Count Mephismon changed his will and testament just before he died. He told me personally that, if he were to perish in the coming battle, he wanted to donate his land to our cause, with me, Barbamon, as the official beneficiary," Barbamon explained with a forlorn sigh. "It is with a heavy heart that I must carry out such a fine warrior's final wishes! Of course, I humbly and graciously accept Count Mephismon's generous donation. Yes, my dear Phantomon! I shall be your benevolent master from hence forward, as per his decree! Do your best to serve me as you would him."

"Y-Yes, Lord Barbamon!" the Phantomon stammered, a bit overwhelmed at the speed at which he had to process the information. It wasn't as if he could argue with him either.

Barbamon smiled crookedly and there was a greedy glint in his eye. "Now, how many hectares is his county, exactly…? Does it produce any lucrative resources?"

Lilithmon stared at Barbamon with a flat and disparaging gaze. "What a shameless slime ball."

She cast her attention over to the several treasure-filled carriages that were halted behind them. Seeing the sparkle of the metal bits and lustrous gems, the Demon Lord of Lust smiled and began sauntering down the road towards them. "Well, if Barbamon gets to help himself, so do I," she decided.

Leviamon's reptilian eye followed Lilithmon as she wandered towards the carts. "What are you doing?" he growled.

"It is none of your concern," Lilithmon replied, casting him a swift glare as she walked past his face. "I am merely reimbursing myself."

The violet-garbed demoness raised her slender arm and pointed at two Evilmon attendants. "You two! Fetch me a bag!" she commanded.

"Yes, my lady!" the two imps effusively obeyed, bowing and rushing off to the supply wagons.

As they scampered off to grab a large bag, Lilithmon went ahead and opened the door of one of the carriages. She smiled widely and raised an eyebrow as she beheld the piles of gold, gems, and coins inside.

Leviamon snarled and looked down the road at Barbamon, who was still chatting with the Phantomon. "Hey, old man!" he called out, the very vibrations of his voice causing the water around him to ripple. "Lilithmon's taking the treasure! Are you going to let her?!"

At this, Barbamon immediately cut himself off mid-sentence and spun around. He watched as Lilithmon began taking handfuls of gems and coins and began dropping them into a bag held by a pair of Evilmon. His yellow eyes behind his golden mask began twitching as he suffered a mild conniption.

"W-W-What do you think you're doing?!" he demanded, immediately marching over to Lilithmon and the carriage.

Lilithmon glanced over at him boredly and continued dropping a handful of bits into the open bag. "What does it look like?" she asked.

"It looks like some foul harlot is stuffing her pockets with my hard-earned treasure!" Barbamon caustically yelled.

"Oh, please! You barely lifted a finger the entire battle!" Lilithmon fired back at him. "I don't recall this treasure belonging to you, you insipid, crumbly skinflint!"

"I did all the work breaking into the Central Bank!" Barbamon complained, grabbing hold of the bag of coins and yanking it out of the Evilmons' hands. "It was my idea to invade New Terminal to begin with! It was my strategies that carried the day and allowed us to get this wealth! It should be mine!"

"You just conned your way into a new estate!" Lilithmon protested, grabbing the bag and attempting to wrestle it away from Barbamon's claws. "This money is supposed to be for all of us!"

Bagramon stepped forwards, casting a suspicious eye towards Barbamon. "Indeed… You did say that this wealth was intended specifically for our war effort, Barbamon," he reminded him.

Lucemon folded his arms and leered at the Demon Lord of Greed as well. "The entire justification for that debacle in New Terminal was that we would come away with a sizeable amount of wealth with which we can fund our war. Or, are you saying that you led us on that costly siege merely to line your own pockets?"

Barbamon stiffened and looked towards Lucemon and Bagramon, although he still clutched the bag of money like it was a canteen in a desert. "Well, no…" he hesitantly responded, not wanting to appear as greedy as he actually was. "Of course this treasure is for our campaign…"

"Well then," Lilithmon said, stealing the bag away from him.

"However!" Barbamon protested, unwilling to concede defeat. "Somebody needs to look after all this money! Some greedy thieves could attempt to steal it. Or it could be mismanaged and squandered." He cast an emphatic glare towards Lilithmon. "Somebody who knows how to handle money should be in charge of such a vast amount of wealth." Barbamon gestured to Bagramon. "Should we have an ascetic hermit looking after it?" He gestured to Lucemon. "A puritanical demagogue?" He cast his arm dismissively towards Lilithmon, Leviamon, Demon, and Beelzebumon. "Them?"

The Demon Lord of Greed smirked and shook his head. "My, no… We need somebody who can be trusted with such important finances. Now, as the former treasurer of the Sky Colonies, there is nobody better suited than I. I will make sure that the money is doled out accordingly. Or would you rather have some spendthrift blowing through our limited cash on wasteful endeavours?" he argued.

Bagramon stared at Barbamon pensively. He didn't trust Barbamon at all, and he was beginning to see his true colours. He was greedy, manipulative, and scheming. However, Bagramon knew that he had a point. He knew that he could be trusted to look after the money. For all of his greed, he had been a sound treasurer before the fall. As a first rate miser, Barbamon liked to amass wealth, not spend it. It may be good to let him handle it under a watchful eye. "…Very well," he tentatively agreed.

"You will be accountable to us, however," Lucemon told him in no uncertain terms. "We do not need to ask your permission to spend how we see fit."

Barbamon sneered and gripped the Death Lure tightly. "…Fine," he conceded through gritted teeth. "However—"

"Terrific!" Lilithmon exclaimed, taking her bag of coins and pushing past Barbamon. "Off to Sepulcrum!"

Barbamon spun around and reached after her futilely. "What?! What do you think you're doing with that?!" he demanded.

Lilithmon cast an annoyed look over his shoulder at the miserly demon. "It is called 'retail therapy'. I'm upset after the overgrown lizard lost that battle for us, so I'm going to buy things that I like to make me feel better."

"Hey!" Leviamon snarled in protest.

"You are going to waste our money on frivolities?!" Barbamon demanded incredulously. "I think not!"

"You can't stop me; this is mine to spend!" Lilithmon answered defiantly, continuing to saunter along with the pair of Evilmons following her.

"Get back here!" Barbamon ordered. Upon being ignored, he growled and continued after her. "Lilithmon! I'm warning you! If you start indulging yourself on extravagant luxuries—"

"You'll what? I'd like to see you try and stop me, you penny-pinching geezer!"

"Oh, I'll stop you alright!" Barbamon shouted, going after the Demon Lord.

The pair continued to argue as Barbamon followed Lilithmon down the highway towards Sepulcrum. They would go on to argue for the entire journey.

Demon passed the pair along with Beelzebumon, who were making their way back to the remaining Demon Lords.

"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Beelzebumon mused, meandering down the road from behind Demon. "Maybe I'll go into town and blow off some steam too!"

"Do whatever you want," Demon told him. "Just don't cause any problems for us."

"Yeah, whatever you say, Dede," Beelzebumon flippantly replied.

Leviamon glowered and slipped back into the river with a large splash. As the waves splashed around his massive, reptilian body, he glanced up at the other Demon Lords. "I don't know where she gets off saying that it's my fault…" he grumbled.

Lucemon immediately spun towards him with a piercing glare. "It is your fault, you blundering incompetent," he accused him, his words sharp and scathing.

The Demon Lord of Envy snarled and retaliated with a glare of his own. His deep growl sent waves splashing around him and bubbles popping from the end of his snout. "What?!" he demanded incredulously. "You still dare to accuse me?! I was fighting four Royal Knights single-handedly!"

"The only thing that you were doing single-handedly was botching the whole battle," Lucemon coldly stated.

"The battle was botched? So much for this being 'the first of many victories'," Leviamon replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I guess all your pontificating speeches are just a bunch of lies and hot air, like usual."

Lucemon sneered at the crocodile's accusations. "The outcome could have been so much better. We had to make the best of a bad situation because of your cowardice."

"How in the seven rotting hells was it my fault?!" Leviamon demanded, whipping his tails violently in the water. "The rest of you retreated too!"

Demon's glowing eyes narrowed from within the shrouded shadows of his hood. "The Royal Knights' reinforcements got past you, forcing Barbamon to retreat. Beelzebumon and his troops fell back, and the Royal Knights outflanked me from both sides. I had no choice," he countered in a biting, gravelly tone. "If you held your ground, we could have taken control of the northern half and reinforced you at the river."

"Are we still going on about this?" Beelzebumon distastefully spat. He shrugged and rolled his three eyes. "Yeesh, get over yourselves already. We're still alive and kicking. Chill! We'll show 'em who's boss next time."

"Demon is right," Lucemon concurred, staring condescendingly down at Leviamon from the top of the highway. "The siege fell apart because of you, lizard."

"At least I did something! I wasn't just sitting on my ass the whole time, like you were!" Leviamon fired back passionately. "But no, you're too good to get your hands dirty. You always make other people do the dirty work for you, while you get to be some sort of glorious, rebel hero when all you do is talk a good game." His reptilian eyes narrowed into spiteful slits. "You're happy to take all the credit when somebody else wins a victory, but whenever there's a setback, you always blame it on somebody else."

"When there is a setback, it is usually because of your oafishness and volatility," Lucemon harshly rebuked him. "Do I need to remind you how often you had switched sides during the Dark Area wars? Or how many opportunistic blunders you have made? Or the amount of times you have betrayed somebody in the middle of a battle? You are an unreliable ally."

"But he is an ally," Bagramon interjected in Leviamon's defence. The half-skeletal fallen angel stepped in between them, raising his true hand diplomatically. "Enough, everybody. I realise that feelings are running high at the moment, but we have to put our differences aside and remain united." He turned to Lucemon beseechingly. "It is as Barbamon said. This was a victory for us, even if it was an ambivalent one. We have to rise above our differences if we are to succeed."

"I don't need you to tell me that," Lucemon snipped. The Demon Lord of Pride folded his arms and closed his eyes. As if meditating, his calm and confident expression soon returned. He opened his eyes and cast a forgiving smile towards Leviamon. "Very well. I shall forgive your mistake. Try not to let it happen again, Leviamon," he told him, his words smug and benevolent.

Leviamon uttered a deep snarl. He didn't even think he did anything wrong, yet Lucemon's idea of putting things behind them was forgiving Leviamon for something he hadn't done? "Typical," Leviamon acrimoniously thought. "He acts like I'm the one in the wrong. Well, fine. Whatever. I'll show him…"

"Leviamon?" Bagramon asked, turning towards the large crocodile.

Leviamon snorted out a puff of rainbow smoke and glanced away. "…Fine," he reluctantly agreed.

Without another word, Leviamon dove underwater and began swimming up the river beneath a rolling wave.

Meanwhile, Beelzebumon began stuffing handfuls of money into the pockets of his leather jacket and pants. Once he was satisfied that he had enough bits to spend, he turned to Lucemon, Bagramon, and Demon with a cocky grin. "Okay, losers. I'm off to Sepulcrum," he declared.

"To do what?" Lucemon asked.

"I'll prolly find the best restaurant in the city, stuff my face, seduce the server, go out on a bender, seduce the bartender, eat some greasy street food, and wind up in somebody's bed 'til morning," Beelzebumon proudly replied. "Or whatever shit ends up happening. I'm not picky."

Lucemon and Demon rolled their eyes at his predictable debauchery.

"Enjoy yourself," Bagramon responded with a tired sigh. "Don't bring anybody back to the castle. It would be rude to our host."

"Yeah, yeah. Later," Beelzebumon dismissively said, waving over his shoulder. He began striding back to his bike, hopped on, and began speeding off down the road after Lilithmon and Barbamon.

"We should get going as well," Demon said. He looked back at the Devidramon-drawn carriages and snapped his fingers, prompting the demon dragons to immediately begin moving. As the wagons began creaking past them, Demon stretched his wings. "I'll check on Belphemon. Hopefully he hasn't wrecked the place."

Bagramon nodded and watched as Demon began flapping his bat-like wings and took off into the night sky. This left only Lucemon and himself.

Lucemon began walking, prompting Bagramon to walk alongside him. The pair of fallen angels began walking down the dark road, heading to the left towards NeoVamdemon's castle.

"It is up to us to make sure that this war proceeds correctly," Lucemon told his counterpart.

Bagramon nodded. "Indeed…" he agreed thoughtfully. "We must keep the other Demon Lords in check. It would be all too easy to fall back into bitter rivalries and self-interest. If that happened, the Three Angels and the Royal Knights would be able to exploit our divisions."

Lucemon smiled at Bagramon. "…Fear not, Bagramon. I will lead them by example," he assured him, detecting Bagramon's underlying meaning.

"Of course…" Bagramon replied. He turned his red eye forwards and stared into the night. "It is imperative that we come together and consolidate our power, both externally and internally."

"I know that, Bagramon," Lucemon explained, looking ahead as well. "You aren't the only one who has been planning for this day."

"I'm glad…" Bagramon mutedly said. "My brother's rebellion failed because he didn't have a base of power. He struck hard and fast at the Royal Knights and their icons, and he was nearly able to break them. However, it was an all-or-nothing gambit. He didn't have a base to return to, and he didn't have a loyal army, relying solely on mercenaries. While mercenaries are useful to fill out the numbers, they are self-interested. He didn't have an army united behind a cause. It was that desperate gambit and lack of long term stability that led to his demise. I aim to learn from his mistakes."

"Indeed…" Lucemon glanced at Bagramon quizzically. "I was unaware that you had a brother. You never once mentioned having one."

"I disowned him," Bagramon coldly answered. "He was a cynical atheist who believed only in a warped sense of justice."

"Hm," Lucemon mused, walking along. "Well, then, it seems as though you were right to do so."

Bagramon closed his one eye lid, his other eye dark and hollow within the darkness of the night. He unclenched his fist and walked alongside the Demon Lord.

"I suppose I was…" the white-haired fallen angel agreed. "However…"

The Demon Lord's empty eye socket glowed with the light of a blood ruby. He turned his eye up towards the night sky, and watched as a shooting star flickered across the void.

"There were some things that he was right about."

Four Digimon strode down a dark and winding road made of dirt. It was late at night, and the moons kept ducking in and out behind the creeping clouds. Without any lamps, and hardly any moonlight to light the way, it was hard to see.

Bolgmon led the way down the curving road. With his cybernetic vision, he looked around the dark landscape alertly, using his HUD and RADAR to determine the best route through the area.

Blitzmon walked at Bolgmon's side, gazing around the dark moor. He walked at a calm and unhurried pace, but his serious eyes spied the crests of the craggy hills cautiously. He knew that the main roads of the Desolate Moors usually had pranksters at best and bandits at worst.

Meanwhile, Wizardmon lingered behind the two insect mercenaries. They had been walking since Shroud, so his comparatively shorter legs were tired. Every so often, he would slow down, putting more distance between himself and the two Black Pincer Company members.

Whenever he did, he would come uneasily close to the DarkSuperStarmon who was walking behind them. The Digimon was a short creature with a dark, violet star for a body. Whenever the Wizardmon slowed down too much, he leered irately at Wizardmon through his shades, which he confusingly wore even at night. This caused the mage not to want to be anywhere near him.

The DarkSuperStarmon was a reasonably high-ranking member of Kowloon Co., a huge mercenary company with several branches across the Digital World. They were grey claws bordering on black, who were willing to commit their troops to any job for money. Blitzmon and Bolgmon had met him in Shroud, and he agreed to join them to meet with Bagramon to settle the conditions of their employment.

The landscape of the Desolate Moors was exactly as the name suggested. It was dark, empty, and unnerving. The fields around them were littered with sharp and craggy rocks and boulders.

Wizardmon pushed through the pain that his legs were feeling, using his staff as a walking stick to keep himself going. As he pressed onwards, he couldn't help but look around the ominous landscape.

On a distant hill, he was able to see a ruined church that he was sure was haunted. Every so often, he would see a lone tomb in the distance, a gothic castle against the waxing moon, a frightening angel statue sitting atop a hill, or a scary tree. Each unnerving landmark made him progressively more anxious. The eerie whistle of the wind blowing across the rocky moor was enough to send shivers down his spine.

The frightened mage hated it here. He held his staff close to his body and looked around with nervous eyes. He didn't know why the Desolate Moors had to be so creepy.

"Are we nearly there?" the DarkSuperStarmon asked from behind them, adjusting the sunglasses over his eyes.

Blitzmon glanced over his shoulder at the two short Digimon before looking at the large, beetle-like tank that was rolling beside him. "Bolgmon?"

"We're nearly at the Gloaming Fields. Castle Nocturn should be down this path," Bolgmon explained, studying the terrain before them. "About two kilometers. I think I can see it. Yeah, I recognise this place now."

"Good…" Wizardmon murmured. While he was relieved that they would finally be off of the road, he didn't exactly feel good about the thought about visiting a vampire's castle that was filled with Demon Lords.

A monstrous groaning sound in the distance reverberated from the impermeable darkness and quickly changed his mind. "Ah!" he cried out, running up and hiding behind Blitzmon. "W-W-W-What was that?!"

"Who knows?" Blitzmon apathetically answered. "Maybe it was Belphemon."

"W-We're only meeting Bagramon, right?" Wizardmon asked, looking up at Blitzmon timidly.

"Bagramon is our employer. If he wishes to include the Demon Lords, that's up to him," the lightning beetle replied with his usual bluntness.

Bolgmon smirked. "What? Are you scared?" he tauntingly asked the short wizard Digimon.

"Yes, incredibly," Wizardmon meekly peeped.

DarkSuperStarmon increased the speed of his stride and walked closer to the three in front of him. "This had better not be a waste of my time," he grumbled. "If you two Black Pincer Punks are playing me for a fool…"

"We're not," Blitzmon shortly answered, unconcerned with his threat. "This is a legitimate business meeting."

"Besides, what are you gonna do? A pipsqueak like you can't take the two of us on by yourself," Bolgmon cockily declared.

DarkSuperStarmon glared behind his sunglasses. "Tch, please. I'm the Interim Junior Sub-Commander of Shroud Branch of Kowloon Company. You don't get to that rank without being a certified badass," he defended with his own roguish swagger.

Bolgmon glanced down at DarkSuperStarmon's strapped boots and tilted his head. "Certified badass? …You've got Velcro shoes," he dryly mocked.

"…They're button-straps!"

Blitzmon rubbed his brow with annoyance. "Stop antagonizing him, Bolgmon. Focus on what's in front of you," he ordered.

"The castle's in front of us," Bolgmon explained, gesturing to the silhouette of a large, gothic castle outlined by moonbeams. "A few guards too."

"G-Guards?" Wizardmon asked, already nervous enough.

"Oh, grow a spine," Bolgmon told him with a roll of his eyes. "You worked with ol' half-and-half for how long now?. If you can do that without getting nightmares, you'll be fine."

"Er…" Wizardmon sheepishly murmured.

"Silence," Blitzmon told them, walking forward to meet the guards, who were roused by their approach.

A SkullGreymon ambled out of the darkness, followed by a Devidramon. The titanic dinosaur skeleton stopped on the path leading up to the gate of the castle and loomed over them. He looked down at the group suspiciously, sizing them up. Wizardmon cowered behind Bolgmon, but the mercenaries looked up at the skeletal titan unflinchingly.

"Who are you? State your business," the SkullGreymon breathed in a hollow voice.

"We're Black Pincer Company. We work for Bagramon," Blitzmon explained, keeping a hand on the satchel over his shoulder. "We were told to come here and wait until they returned. Is Bagramon back yet?"

"He just returned today with the Demon Lords," the Devidramon spoke up, prowling over. "Bagramon is inside. Wait here while I confirm the meeting."

"Fine," Blitzmon permitted, waiting at the base of the castle with Bolgmon, Wizardmon and their guest, all under the watchful eye of SkullGreymon.

As they waited, the Devidramon opened the doors to the castle and disappeared inside.

"So, did they win or lose?" Bolgmon asked, looking up at the SkullGreymon.

"Inconclusive," SkullGreymon responded. "They came back with lots of money though."

Blitzmon looked up with interest. "Good news for us…" he noted, glancing over at DarkSuperStarmon.

"Good. We only take upfront payments now, after the DarkKnightmon fiasco," DarkSuperStarmon informed them.

Bolgmon snickered electrically. "Your guys' fault for getting swindled by a guy whose only line of credit was from the Dark Area," he teased him. "Every merc should know that you ask for a payment upfront."

"At least half before, half after," Blitzmon agreed, folding his arms. "I hope that Kowloon Company is better at handling enemies than you are at handling money."

"The best company around doesn't need advice from a two-bit, two-mon merc group like you," DarkSuperStarmon retorted indignantly. "What happened to the other one – GrandisKuwagamon – anyways?"

Blitzmon cast a cool look towards him and then shot a silencing stare towards Bolgmon. "…We went our separate ways," he spartanly explained.

Wizardmon looked away uneasily. He, too, had wanted to know what happened, but he didn't want to ask. Instead, the scientist looked past the guard and towards the castle doors, hoping that Bagramon would appear at any minute.

To his relief, the doors began to open and the Devidramon emerged from the dark interior. The dark dragon beckoned to the group. "Come in," he told them. "Go straight ahead."

The SkullGreymon stepped aside and allowed Wizardmon and the three mercenaries to pass. They walked through the gothic arch of the large, imposing doors and stepped into the darkness.

The foyer was made of black stones and the dark room was lit only dimly by ensconced torches. Across the center of the foyer was a long, scarlet carpet that was sprawled out, leading towards the great hall of the castle.

Blitzmon looked around and made his way across the entrance, following the carpet towards the other room. He was eager to meet with Bagramon and complete the job that he asked of them. Bolgmon followed behind him, not really caring that he was tracking mud and dirt from his treads all over NeoVamdemon's carpet. Wizardmon stuck close to the two members of Black Pincer Company, desperate not to get left alone in such a creepy place. DarkSuperStarmon followed after them, just wanting to arrange the business deal and leave already.

The four Digimon walked inside the great hall. It was vast and grandiose, the walls adorned with beautiful, commissioned paintings, stained glass windows, and gothic, vaulted ceilings. Standing in the center of the room was Bagramon, who watched them as they entered.

Blitzmon locked eyes with Bagramon and walked straight towards him. "Bagramon."

Bagramon nodded at the azure beetle man as he approached. "Blitzmon, Bolgmon, thank you for coming."

Blitzmon walked up to him and placed a hand on the satchel that hung from his shoulder. "Our pleasure…"

The half-angel garbed in white then looked past the two members of Black Pincer Company, noticing the short, violet body of DarkSuperStarmon bringing up the rear. "You must be from Kowloon Company," Bagramon greeted. "I thank you for making this journey to meet me in person."

"I hope it will be worth the trek," DarkSuperStarmon responded aloofly. "When Blitzmon contacted me in Shroud, he told me that this was a huge business opportunity and that the contract would be lucrative. He wasn't misrepresenting you, was he?"

Bagramon smiled a little. "Not at all… This is indeed a vast undertaking. Well, I don't wish to keep you, so let us get right to it, shall we?"

"Please," DarkSuperStarmon said, walking up beside Blitzmon while Wizardmon lingered in the background. "I'm DarkSuperStarmon, Junior Sub-Commander of the Shroud Branch of Kowloon Company." He offered his gloved hand towards Bagramon, though, behind his sunglasses, he eyed Bagramon's artificial arm with unease. "I'm here on behalf of our Commander with the authority to deal as I see fit."

"Welcome to our headquarters," Bagramon said to him. He reached out with his organic hand and gently shook the star mutant's hand. "I presume that Blitzmon has already explained who exactly we are and what we represent."

DarkSuperStarmon retracted his hand and adjusted his sunglasses. "You and the Seven Great Demon Lords are mounting some kind of campaign against the Heavenly Choir and the Royal Knights, right? And you need mercenaries to fight for your war."

"To put it simply, yes," Bagramon answered. "Does Kowloon Company have any qualms about working with us?"

"Not as long as we get paid. Assuming you aren't completely outmatched by the Royal Knights. We tussled with them before and they're some of the strongest Digimon around," he answered.

"The Demon Lords fought the Royal Knights on even footing in this last battle. There are seven Demon Lords in total with power greater than a standard Ultimate level Digimon. We have over three thousand soldiers. Our strength is only going to increase," Bagramon assured him. "I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't confident in our chances."

"Glad to hear it. A job's a job, but we don't waste good mercs on unwinnable odds. Half now, half when the job is done, win or lose," DarkSuperStarmon told him in no uncertain terms. "You understand that us being there, while increasing the odds, is not a guarantee that we'll win. If we lose, we'll need to recoup on our losses. If there are sore losers who won't pay up, we won't hesitate to let our angry mercenaries loose on our clients' properties. We have to reimburse ourselves one way or another, you see."

Bolgmon smirked. "He has to say this because, last time, DarkKnightmon took them for fools. The bastard died before paying 'em," he smugly added, snickering to himself and thinking it hilarious. Bolgmon was immediately silenced by a sharp, painful elbow to his fleshy side, courtesy of Blitzmon.

Bagramon momentarily frowned at the mention of his brother's name, but he didn't give him any further thought. He smiled reassuringly. "You don't need to worry. We have a considerable base of wealth which will only grow with time. You will receive what you are owed."

DarkSuperStarmon placed his gloved hands on his angular, star-shaped hips and stood in front of Blitzmon and Bolgmon. "Let's get straight to the point. What specifically is it that you want from Kowloon Company?" he directly asked the Demon Lord.

"If I may answer with a question; how many mercenaries are you willing to spare?" Bagramon questioned. "I'm assuming that you wouldn't want to place all of your eggs in a single basket."

"That's correct. That's one reason why DarkKnightmon's failed rebellion wasn't an insurmountable loss for our organization," DarkSuperStarmon replied. "We'd be willing to commit up to three brigades, which are comprised of around one thousand soldiers each. We also have a range of small but elite specialist teams: engineers, covert ops, wall breachers, tanks, trappers, you name it and we probably have it."

"He already has covert specialists," Blitzmon pointedly asserted, slightly annoyed at the rival mercenary for trying to muscle in on their territory.

"Three brigades will be enough at this point," Bagramon informed them. "And the price?"

"For three brigades… I'll show you our rates," DarkSuperStarmon explained, taking a price sheet out of the pouch that he carried. "In addition, I'll be joining the brigades as junior sub-commander. I'll be in charge of them and keep them in line."

As DarkSuperStarmon opened up the price sheet on the table for Bagramon to peruse, Blitzmon glanced at it from over the shorter Digimon's shoulder as well. He could see that the prices were in the tens of millions of bits for what Bagramon was asking for. Although that was standard fare for a mercenary army of that size, Blitzmon's mathematical mind could see that the prices were inflated. He rolled his eyes at the greedy prices, while Bolgmon scoffed at DarkSuperStarmon's lame assertion of authority.

Bagramon studied the sheet carefully, recognizing that this would be a very costly endeavour for him. However, he deemed that it was worth it. "Yes, that is fine," Bagramon calmly insisted. "I won't bother to haggle, although Barbamon surely would. I am planning to use most of my own money that I have accumulated over the years." The one-eyed demon looked at DarkSuperStarmon closely. "And since I will be paying you personally, you will follow my instructions."

"We have a deal, then. At the end of each year, you can choose to end the contract or extend it," the mercenary sub-commander informed him.

"A single year, for the time being," Bagramon answered.

"Okay. I'll write up a contract and we'll make it official," DarkSuperStarmon agreed. "After that, you can pay the first half and we'll start organizing them from our Shroud base. Where do you want the army?"

"Send them up here," Bagramon said, offering his hand. "That is all I require for now."

DarkSuperStarmon reached up and shook the much taller Digimon's hand. "Pleasure doing business with you," he said. "Can I go back to Shroud?"

"You are free to do as you wish," Bagramon answered, gesturing his skeletal arm towards the door. "I look forward to working together."

DarkSuperStarmon tipped his star-shaped body suavely. "We'll be here within the week," he told his new employer. "See you around."

With that, the short mercenary spun on the heel of his shoe and began making his own way out of the castle.

Bagramon watched quietly as the void-coloured star man disappeared into the darkness of the foyer, his body blending into the darkness.

After waiting a few moments to be sure that the mercenary leader was gone, Blitzmon eyed Bagramon sceptically. "The price he was asking for was excessive. Are you sure about that, Bagramon?" he wondered.

"It's fine with me, Blitzmon. Even if I have to dip into the Demon Lords' war chest a little," Bagramon answered unconcernedly. "It is worth it, even if I'm paying over the odds."

"Why is that?"

Bagramon surreptitiously glanced down the length of the hall before speaking. "…Let's just say that it is a good idea to have two separate fighting forces in play."

Blitzmon raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust somebody."

Bagramon didn't reply. It was true, there was somebody who he didn't trust. He didn't fully trust Barbamon. He had seen how eager Barbamon was to attempt to amass their recent gains for himself. The half-sighted Demon Lord knew that the one who controlled the money ultimately controlled the army. There were many demons who were ideologically motivated by Lucemon's cause, but there were also many who would sell their friend out for a few bits.

By having a group of mercenaries loyal to himself, he could check Barbamon's influence if the Demon Lord of Greed attempted to bribe the demon nobles and the army to his own position. He hoped that Barbamon was smart enough not to divide the Demon Lords in the middle of the war by selfishly bolstering his own position, but he had to be prepared to deal with Barbamon's greed.

"No, it just makes sense from a logistical point of view," Bagramon insisted. "Having two armies on the field."

Blitzmon eyed him, unconvinced by the logic. "Then why not haggle the price down?"

Bagramon gestured with his hand towards his plain, ascetic, white robes. "I don't care about money. Its only value to me is as a bargaining chip to persuade those who do care about it. I have never been interested in being wealthy or having money for its own sake."

Blitzmon leered at Bagramon out of the corners of his sharp, green eyes, silently judgmental. "Only someone who has never been poor could say that…" he contended.

Bagramon responded with an aware smile. "I suppose you are correct… I was born into an aristocratic family. When our parents were killed, I inherited the family estate and all of their wealth," he explained. "However, I gave it all up to join the Exodus to the Sky Colonies."

Blitzmon eyed him with quiet incredulity. "You gave it all up for the sake of religion?" he asked, his words suspicious and cynical.

A soft chuckle escaped Bagramon's mouth. "Yes, I did. I was young and idealistic. I truly believed in the goodness of God." His smile faded as he stared down at his large, skeletal arm, flexing the fingers carved from the wood of the World Tree. "Young and foolish…"

"And now?"

"And now I wish to bring down the unjust god that I once pledged my life to," Bagramon answered matter-of-factly.

Blitzmon nodded. "Well… I am one of those Digimon who cares about money, so as long as you keep providing work and payment, we will continue to help you."

"The chances to blow things up are a huge bonus," Bolgmon added, tilting his cannon head with a jovial look in his eyes.

Bagramon nodded at Blitzmon, who he considered the one in charge of Black Pincer Company. "I am glad to hear that."

The fallen angel then cast his eye towards Wizardmon. The mage sheepishly lingered behind the pair of mercenaries, looking down and kicking the floor with his shoe.

"Wizardmon… It's good to see you again. I hope you're doing well," Bagramon greeted.

Wizardmon put on an uneasy smile and stepped out from behind Bolgmon. "Uh, I'm alright…" he hesitantly responded.

"He was restrained by Alphamon in your hut while he was waiting for us," Blitzmon bluntly informed the fallen angel.

Bagramon looked at Wizardmon thoughtfully, seeing the scientist wince and open his mouth to protest. "Is this true, Wizardmon?" he questioned.

Wizardmon ducked his head behind his large collar. "Err… I'm afraid so…" he admitted, fidgeting with his gloved hands. "I-I swear that I didn't tell him anything that he didn't already know! All I said was that I was working for you and that I helped you with the dark rifts! By that point, he had already figured that out!" he nervously insisted.

"We freed him while Alphamon was dealing with the siege," Bolgmon added.

Bagramon gazed at Wizardmon's frightened face, quietly studying him as he spoke. "…I see," he answered neutrally.

He closed an eye, leaving only his empty socket staring at Wizardmon. As the mage began to shrink further under his ominous, crimson stare, Bagramon then smiled reassuringly and placed his humanoid hand on Wizardmon's shoulder. "Apologies, Wizardmon. I didn't intend to involve you in this stage of the plan directly. I had hoped that you could leave without the Royal Knights knowing about you. However, now it seems that the threads of our fates are interwoven…"

Wizardmon swallowed to lubricate his dry throat. He tipped the rim of his hat down over his face and grimaced reluctantly. "I… I suppose so," he mumbled.

"I suggest that you stay with me for the time being. There is something that I may need your help with…" Bagramon told him cryptically.

Wizardmon nodded softly and glanced down, his wide hat and short stature preventing Bagramon from seeing the unwillingness in his eyes. "Yes, Bagramon…" he conceded. He knew that with the situation that he was in, he didn't have much of a choice.

Bagramon frowned and turned his attention back up to the pair of beetle mercenaries. "Speaking of which, how did your job go? Were you able to steal the true Yggdrasil Codex?" he asked.

Blitzmon carefully lifted the heavy satchel off of his shoulder and carried it over to a candle lit table. Bagramon arched his forked eyebrow and walked after him, followed by Bolgmon and Wizardmon.

Blitzmon gently removed a heavy object from the bag. It was a large, thick rectangle that was swaddled in layers of dense cloths. He placed the covered rectangle on the table and began to slowly unfurl the layers. His dextrous unwrapping finally revealed a book of white marble that seemed to emanate a holy light that was dim yet pure.

"It was surprisingly easy to steal for how ancient and important this thing apparently is," Blitzmon noted, his voice calmly triumphant. "I expected there to be more complicated security systems."

Bolgmon rolled up beside them, looked at the book, and then back at Bagramon. "It's the real thing, right? We didn't just steal a copy?" he asked, earning him a glare from Blitzmon.

Bagramon frowned and stepped forwards. He extended his wooden hand and held it directly above the Yggdrasil Codex. Gently, he lowered his bony palm and pressed it down against the marble cover of the tome.

The surface began to react against the wood of the World Tree. The cover glowed with an even brighter radiance that illuminated the area directly around them. The book seemed to produce a faint hum as it resonated with the hand.

"It is the real one," Bagramon responded, slowly lifting the artificial hand that was cut from ash wood. As he pulled his hand away, the book's light began to dim and the ethereal humming faded.

Wizardmon's eyes widened and he stepped forwards, looking at the book with great curiosity. He held his own hand over the book, but saw that the massive tome didn't react to his own touch. The scientist looked up at Bagramon. "How did you do that?" he inquired with wonder.

Bagramon held up his artificial arm, curling its wooden fingers. "This arm was cut from the trunk of the World Tree," Bagramon explained. "The pages of the Yggdrasil Codex are made from the World Tree as well. It is reacting to itself."

"Fascinating…" Wizardmon mused, having temporarily forgotten about his situation due to the interesting distraction.

Bagramon turned to Blitzmon and Bolgmon. "Thank you, both of you," he told them. "You did well to bring me this. I will arrange for your payment."

"Why'd it have to be the real one?" Bolgmon asked. "There are copies of the Yggdrasil Codex that are easier to get, aren't there?"

"There are only a few copies, and they are not word-for-word translations. They omit some sections that are deemed too sensitive by the Keepers of the Codex. Nor are the copies made from the World Tree's bark. It is only through certain methods that hidden sections will be revealed," Bagramon explained. He lowered his artificial arm emphatically, causing the book to glow for a moment. "As I said, like reacts to like…"

Bolgmon frowned and folded his thick, metal arms along with the smaller pair that extended from his sides. "Okay… So, why'd you ask us to get the book? What are you gonna do with it?"

"I am going to read it," Bagramon responded simply.

Bolgmon's eyes flattened at the unsatisfactory answer.

"It doesn't matter what he's going to do with it," Blitzmon said, staring at Bolgmon. He glanced back at Bagramon. "I assume it has something to do with your war."

"Something like that," Bagramon enigmatically replied, lifting the book in his large hand. "From what my research has told me, this book will provide me with the clues I will need for the later steps of my plans."

"Whatever you need to do," Blitzmon answered pliably.

"Actually, there is something that I need you to do," Bagramon informed them, turning to the pair of mercenaries.

Blitzmon cocked an eyebrow and placed his hands on his hips.

Bolgmon smirked. "Will it involve beating somebody up this time?"

Bagramon's brow furrowed as he considered his request. He couldn't deny the distinct possibility. "…I leave it to your discretion. Do whatever you need to do," the angel of death told them. "It doesn't matter as long as you competently complete the task."

Blitzmon's green eyes narrowed. "What exactly is the task?"

"There is something that I need you to retrieve for me," the Demon Lord clad in white explained. Behind his blighted, white locks of hair, his blood red eye gazed down at the Yggdrasil Codex in his hand.

"…It is called the Orb of Yang. It is a large sphere, as black as the void, but with traces of white light within it. It is about the size of a humanoid head," Bagramon informed them. "It is one of two orbs that were created by Huanglongmon when he was shut away during the Great Sealing."

"What? The Great Ceiling?" a befuddled Bolgmon asked.

Wizardmon looked up timidly. "The Great Sealing was the event that ended the First Cycle," he decided he should explain, looking over at the pair of mercenaries. "Huanglongmon was overthrown by an immensely powerful, evil Digimon and he was sealed deep inside a pocket dimension within the Digital World. His power was split among the Four Holy Beasts, who had helped him rule up to that point, in order to have them fight the usurper. Huanglongmon was a being of stability and equilibrium, and his very existence was said to keep the peace and order of the Digital World. Because of the Great Sealing, his stabilizing influence was removed from the Digital World, which allowed chaos to run rampant. They managed to destroy the usurper, but there was a civil war between Four Holy Beasts because of the chaos of the world."

Wizardmon frowned as he immersed himself deep within the ancient history. "However, Huanglongmon called upon them from within his prison and begged them to cease their fighting but his yells couldn't get through to the surface. In an act of desperation, he sacrificed the rest of his body, putting the rest of his balancing data into the Orb of Yin and the Orb of Yang, which are believed to be two concentrated packets of stabilizing programming data. As Huanglongmon went into a deep slumber, it is said that his power coursed through the Digital World as Dragon's Veins. The Twin Orbs meanwhile were able to cause a state of balance and permanence across the Digital World, restoring order, ending the civil war, and beginning the Second Cycle," he explained.

Bolgmon stared vacantly down at Wizardmon as he spouted off dry, studious history that he couldn't care less about. "…That's nice."

Wizardmon soon realised that he had been talking way too much and quieted down in embarrassment. "…At least, that's what the Golden Annals say happened."

"Indeed…" Bagramon agreed. "It is more or less what Wizardmon has said. I need you to retrieve the Orb of Yang."

Blitzmon frowned and folded his arms. "What about the Orb of Yin?" he wondered.

"Only one of the orbs is necessary. The Orb of Yang will be easier to get – it is the only one that I have ascertained the location of."

"…Okay. We can do that," Blitzmon agreed, looking over at Bolgmon.

"Yeah. Where is it, exactly?" Bolgmon wondered, already preparing a map in his mind.

"It is located in the Forest of Equilibrium. Do you know it?"

At the mention of the forest, Blitzmon's features darkened gently. "Yes…" he answered. "It's in the Western Reaches, about thirty kilometers north of Restart Forest."

Bolgmon grunted and looked away uneasily. "…What? So it's just randomly lying around in the forest? That place is huge!" he irritably complained.

"No, not exactly…" Bagramon responded. "It was once located in a heavily guarded shrine, deep within the forest. However, circumstances changed and guardianship passed to another group. It seems that the Orb of Yang is now under the protection of an order of monks of the Religion of Light."

"The Sky Colony angels?" Bolgmon asked, tilting his head.

"What would they be doing with a relic of the Golden Faith of Huanglongmon?" Wizardmon wondered, frowning as well.

"It's amazing what being away from the intransigent, self-perpetuating dogma of the Sky Colonies can do to one's perspective," the demon in white contemptuously mused. "Perhaps they realised that there can be more than one so-called 'God'."

Wizardmon glanced up at Bagramon. "S-So, are they heretics?"

Bagramon turned his glowing red gaze down on the mage, gazing at him philosophically. "That depends… What is a heretic, Wizardmon? Is it somebody who you disagree with? Somebody whose views are wrong? What is right and what is wrong? Who decides that? Do Digimon decide? Or does God decide? By all accounts… I am a heretic. Yet, I am more enlightened about the truth of the world than any scholar of the Virtues who has devoted their life to reading the canonical scriptures. It is all relative, isn't it?"

Wizardmon shrunk back. "I suppose so…"

Blitzmon began tapping his finger against his bicep. "So, these monks… Where do we find them?" he swiftly asked, refocusing their conversation.

"They live in a monastery on the southern edge of the Forest of Equilibrium," Bagramon informed them. "The Orb of Yang should be located within the inner sanctum. It will be under heavy guard from ex-Powers soldiers. They will be elite soldiers, so be careful."

"Nothing that we can't handle," Blitzmon confidently responded. He glanced at Bolgmon resentfully. "Even if it is just the two of us now."

Bolgmon rubbed the back of his head. "We'll be fine."

"So, we can do whatever we need to in order to get it?" Blitzmon questioned, looking back at Bagramon.

"Yes... That is why I hired you," Bagramon confirmed darkly. "Do what you must."

Blitzmon cracked his knuckles. "Understood. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, don't touch the Orb of Yang directly. It is full of concentrated energy, so I can't be sure how it will react. It could very well destroy you if improperly handled. Use the proper receptacle to carry it," Bagramon advised them.

"Noted. And our payment?"

Bagramon nodded. "Due to the danger involved, what say you to a fifty percent increase from your current payment?"

Blitzmon quickly did the math in his head. "That works," he agreed.

Bolgmon smirked, excited to finally be seeing some action. "I'm down," he said, smirking darkly.

Wizardmon glanced up at Bagramon uncertainly, but he remained silent.

"Good… I have complete faith in you," the fallen angel encouraged them. "That is all, unless you have any questions. If not, feel free to wait in the lounge while I retrieve your payment."

"Is there alcohol there?" Bolgmon asked, leaning forwards with excitement.

Bagramon turned and began wrapping the Yggdrasil Codex back in the cloth. "Wine and a few spirits."

Bolgmon reacted with distaste, knowing the sort of environment they were in. "When you say 'spirits'…"

The smaller of the two scarab beetles shot the larger one a look. "Come on, Bolgmon. Let's go already," he told him, grabbing Bolgmon's arm and pulling him towards the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Yeesh," Bolgmon complained, driving after him.

Bagramon's faint smile began to fade and level out into a serious frown as he watched the pair of insect mercenaries step into the darkness.

"To uphold my own brand of justice, I am forced to use mercenaries. Digimon who use their abilities to maim and kill in exchange for money. Merchants of death…" Bagramon quietly mused.

He quietly clenched his smaller, organic fist. "What kind of god allows Digimon with such evil hearts to exist? Why are Digimon capable of such destruction? Digimon are born and evolve with such destructive abilities. Digimon kill each other all the time. We kill for myriad reasons… for hatred, fear, prejudice, wealth, food, conquest, justice, love, pleasure… sometimes for no reason at all. As the Archangel of Death, I have seen it all. I have witnessed firsthand the depths of darkness within Digimons' hearts."

"Why are we like this? Did God – did Yggdrasil make us this way? If so, why allow such evil? …Or is it our fault? Were we born a blank slate? We have the free will to decide whether or not we will be good or evil… If this is true, why does God not intervene? If morality comes from the hearts of Digimon, then isn't it the creator's job to guide them? Why doesn't God correct the wicked? Why does he allow atrocities like the Death-X Invasion to occur? Why did he stand back and allow the Night of Falling Stars to happen? If he won't lift a finger to protect his own so-called 'Chosen'… then what use is such an apathetic and unjust god?"

The memory of DarkKnightmon's words to him reverberated in Bagramon's mind.

"Do you really think that our world is governed by an omnipotent, omniscient, intrinsically moral being? Have you seen the amoral world that we live in, Bagramon? At the very most, there is a being or a core program that has created the Digital World and that runs processes that stabilize the natural laws of the Digital World. Yggdrasil or Huanglongmon - or whoever - is a passive being that exists to keep the world in order," the voice of DarkKnightmon echoed, back from the last time he had seen his brother.

Bagramon's eyes darkened as he covered up the codex completely.

"I suppose we will see, dear brother…"

Wizardmon tugged at his collar and looked up at Bagramon uncertainly. "…Is it okay to let them do whatever they want to those monks?" he nervously asked, hoping that he might reconsider his words.

The glowing ruby in Bagramon's dark eye shifted and pointed towards the small mage. "Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater justice of this world. I cannot afford to shy away from that fact any longer," Bagramon explained, his tone stiff and neutral. "The Orb of Yang is that important."

Wizardmon frowned and looked down at his boots. He sighed and recognised his current lot for what it was. "…What are you going to do with it?"

Bagramon turned towards the mage and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I will explain in due time," he answered, unforthcoming. "For now, I require your help with a new project."

Wizardmon tipped his hat back so that he could look up at Bagramon more easily. "What project…?"

The corner of Bagramon's mouth curved upwards. "You have been bountifully helpful in using the dark rifts to access the Dark Area," he explained gratefully.

Bagramon lowered himself, bending down so that his blood red stare was at eye level with Wizardmon. He smiled disarmingly at the uneasy wizard, though his Invisible Snake Eye burned with a radiant intensity.

"…What do you know about accessing other pocket dimensions?"