(Chapter 57 is here! My productivity gets worse in the sweltering heat of the summer, but I'm going to do my best to keep on top of my schedule. Anyways, let's see what some of the villains are up to. Enjoy and leave a review if you can!)
Chapter 57: Treachery
Smoke drifted across the barren expanse of the Gloaming Fields. A howling inferno lit up the night, casting orange light across the landscape.
A gothic castle stood upon the precipice of a cliff. The cliff was fifty meters tall, making the fortress loom over the Weeping River below.
This castle was engulfed in an all-consuming blaze. The flames roared as they swelled into the night sky, and the smoke climbed into the clouds in the form of a bent pillar. Beneath the cliff, the dark water of the lazily flowing river sparkled orange as the glowing cinders blew across the landscape.
Demon's indigo eyes flashed with cold triumph as he beheld the blazing castle far in front of him. He watched as the stone and mortar crumbled, and counted his victory as the fire crept up the towers of the stronghold. The castle had been breached, looted, and razed.
Directly in front of the cloaked Demon Lord was a blazing crater. That was where Count MarineDevimon had been standing before Demon crushed him into ashes.
On the other side of the crater was a small army of a couple hundred demon and undead Digimon, all of whom were kneeling before him in fealty.
The tip of a large, red snout suddenly appeared from over the edge of the cliff. Leviamon dragged himself up the cliff from the Weeping River below. His heavy weight caused the stony precipice to fracture and crumble slightly, but he dug his hind legs into the side of the cliff and scrambled up to where the Demon Lords were.
Demon watched as Leviamon emerged, the thunderous movements of the giant Demon Lord causing the ground to tremor. The nearby castle shuddered at the heavy steps. Flames seeping out of its windows, the highest tower blazed with unholy wrath. As Leviamon shook the earth, the tower suddenly began to crumble. The spire cracked and started to collapse like a falling tree. Demon observed as the tower fell away and disappeared over the side of the cliff. It fell to the river below and hit the water with a mighty crash, breaking apart in a mighty cascade.
The soft beating of wings behind him pulled Demon's attention away from the destruction. The Demon Lord of Wrath turned around and looked up to see Lucemon descending from the grey clouds overhead. His body basked in moonlight, Lucemon: Falldown Mode dove down and landed gracefully beside Demon.
As he settled on the ground, Lucemon brushed his hair to the side and turned to Demon with a soft smile. "It seems as though everything went according to plan," he mused, looking around at the bowing army and the burning castle.
"Indeed," Demon responded, glancing at Lucemon through the slit in his hood. He looked back at the smouldering crater and blazing castle. "The fool, Count MarineDevimon, is dead for daring to resist our crusade. He was so obsessed with his personal power and fortune that he thought he could deny us. Now his castle lies in ruins and his data is scattered to the winds."
Lucemon nodded and folded his arms. He looked across the army of kneeling demons and undead, carefully inspecting the hundreds of Digimon who dared not to rise. "And this is Count MarineDevimon's army? Have they formally surrendered?"
"They threw down their arms as soon as the Count was killed," Demon responded, his cloak rippling in the ashy breeze. "The battle was swift and decisive. We lost about fifteen soldiers, they lost fifty or so."
"And? What do you make of them?" Lucemon wondered, scanning the rows of nervous soldiers thoughtfully.
"They are better trained than some of the others that we have fought," Demon explained. "They are loyal, but intelligent enough to know when to surrender."
"So it seems…" Lucemon mused, gently tapping his finger against his bicep as he deliberated. After a few moments, he released a confident scoff. "Well, then. I think we should absorb them into our Nightmare Soldiers. Your thoughts, Demon?"
"I concur," Demon responded. "With a bit of training, they could make for some fine troops."
"Good," Lucemon decided, unfolding his arms. "With Count MarineDevimon destroyed, so ends the last bastion of resistance to us in the Gloaming Fields. He was the final hold out, assuming Lilithmon's negotiations went as planned…"
"With any luck, she used her charms effectively," Demon grunted. "I don't want to waste time besieging Vespers if we don't have to. Not while the Royal Knights are regrouping."
"Very well. With your campaign over, it would be best to take our legions back south to Castle Nocturn. Then we can regroup with the rest of the Demon Lords and decide our next course of action," Lucemon decided, ignoring the sounds of the heavy, earth-shaking footsteps that grew closer.
Demon turned slightly as Leviamon marched across the field towards them. The legion made space for Leviamon to walk through their ranks without stepping on them. As the huge Demon Lord passed through, the victorious legion continued passing by their kneeling foes. In their arms was as much loot as they could carry from the pillaged castle.
"Leviamon," Demon spoke, casting his eyes towards the leviathan. "We are leaving. Tell Marquess Mephismon X-Antibody to get the surrendered Legion up and moving."
"We're leaving already?" Leviamon sceptically questioned, stopping his snout meters away from Lucemon and Demon. "Why?"
"The Count is dead. The castle is taken. All of our foes in the region have been defeated. Therefore, we have no further reason to linger here," Lucemon informed him with a sideways leer. "Unless you can think of any rationale in your boundless wisdom…"
Leviamon grunted with annoyance at Lucemon putting him on the spot. "…No," he had to admit. However, not wanting to appear a contrarian fool, Leviamon quickly thought of a rebuttal. "Apart from giving everyone a rest. We've been campaigning non-stop for weeks."
"It will take over a day to return to Castle Nocturn. We don't have time to waste," Demon argued. "They can rest when we arrive."
"Demon's right. There is no point in sitting around outside of a smouldering castle when we have things that we need to do," Lucemon concurred, casting a suspicious gaze upon Leviamon. "I suggest you get moving. Get the defeated army organized and have them follow the Legion. Or is that too much for you to handle? Could it be that you're just thinking of yourself, like usual?"
Leviamon scowled at Lucemon contemptuously. He released a grunt, causing warm breath to shoot out of his nostrils and blow Lucemon's hair back. However, he turned his reptilian snout away and began to walk past them. "Fine…" he begrudgingly agreed.
As he turned his head, he cast an angry eye onto the Digitamamon who was kneeling at the head of the army. "You!" he shouted. "Get all of them up and moving! Follow me!"
"Yes… my lord," the egg-shaped demon Digimon replied, bowing his shell-encompassed body and rising to his stocky feet. He turned around and beckoned to the former Count's personal army. "All of you, get moving! Follow our new masters!"
Leviamon grunted and his reptilian eye lingered on them for a few moments before he turned forwards. The crocodilian Demon Lord began marching forwards along the long, dirt path that led away from the castle.
"That's right. Follow me," he thought to himself.
As Leviamon made his way down the road, Lucemon and Demon flapped their wings and took to the air. He watched with narrowed eyes as they flew ahead of him and took the lead on their journey back to their headquarters. He remained quiet and followed along, playing the part of an obedient servant; even though it burned him up inside.
The legion began following after them, splitting in two so that each half flanked the Count's surrendered army, just in case they tried anything underhanded. The Count's army knew better and followed their orders to the letter; to do any less would be to meet the same fate as their former master.
Leviamon sympathized with them. They were in the same situation as he was. Forced to march to the beat of somebody else's drum. However, he was different. He was strong. He was smart. He had options.
As Leviamon followed after the foremost Demon Lords, the scaly corners of his snout twitched and his yellow eyes sparkled with contempt.
"You'll all see…"
It took over a day of marching for Lucemon, Demon, Leviamon, and their army to return to the southern plains of the Gloaming Fields. They marched west through Sepulcrum until they reached Castle Nocturn, NeoVamdemon's castle.
Although it was NeoVamdemon's name on the deed, the gothic castle was now the Demon Lords' de facto headquarters. As NeoVamdemon was now their subordinate, nobody had any doubt as to who really owned the fortress. It was only a matter of time until Barbamon convinced him to sign the deed over to them to make it official. The fact that the front entrance had been vastly enlarged to allow Leviamon to enter into the great hall was evidence of this.
It was evening by the time the Demon Lords and their army arrived back at Castle Nocturn. The sun had set and the moons reached their peak in the crepuscular sky. The wind whistled eerily as it blew across the desolate plain. As the gentle breeze funnelled between the walls and buildings of the castle, the tremulous sound of church bells tolled in the distance.
The Demon Lords congregated in great hall of Castle Nocturn. Lucemon, Demon, Lilithmon, Barbamon, Beelzebumon, and Bagramon stood in the center of the formal hall, which NeoDevimon used for hosting social occasions and diplomatic meetings. Leviamon sat at the front of the hall. His head and snout protruded from the foyer and into the large, torch-lit chamber, while the back half of his body stuck out of the castle's front entrance.
The seven stood over the expansive, crimson rug that stretched across the hall from end to end. The moonlight from outside shone in faintly through the stained glass windows, though hardly enough to provide enough light to see. In the center of the room was a large table with a map of Eniac unfurled. The melting candles placed along the perimeter of the table and the wisps of fire that hovered overhead illuminated the map for all to see.
A PicoDevimon servant carefully marked an 'X' on a point on the map that was just below the Lost Mountains at the northern edge of the Gloaming Fields. Once the point on the map was crossed off to match the other small 'X's around the area, the imp retreated off to the side to await further instructions.
"So, you crushed Count MarineDevimon, destroyed his castle and captured his army…" Barbamon mused, leering down at the 'X' where the Count's castle used to be. "Well done, though losing a strategically placed castle is shameful waste."
"It couldn't be helped; we had to force them out," Demon responded, folding his robed arms. "Though, Leviamon was excessive in his attack."
Leviamon scoffed and grumbled lowly. "You told me to attack it from behind…" he muttered in response.
"It matters not," Lucemon insisted, raising a hand and looking around at the Demon Lords. "We have no need for a fortress that far to the north. What matters is that, with the death of Count MarineDevimon, the last bastion of resistance in the Gloaming Fields has been eliminated. The other nobles who have declared against us have either surrendered or been ground into dust. There is nobody else in the region to oppose us."
"Lucemon is correct," Bagramon confirmed. "All of the nobles who wished to remain neutral have now flocked to our banner. It seems as though they wish to avoid the same fate as the aristocrats we have conquered."
Barbamon turned to Lilithmon with a captious eye. "And what about you? How did your excursion to Vespers go? Did you manage to come back with anything other than designer fashion?"
Lilithmon met Barbamon's sneering comment with a rivalrous glare of her own. "As a matter of fact, yes, I have, you vile, old miser," she took great glee in telling him. "When I have a job to do, I do it remarkably."
"Oh? You do surprise me…" Barbamon dryly answered. "Well? Out with it."
She smirked and swirled the glass of red wine that rested between her fingers, causing the maroon waves to slosh against the inside of the glass. "I had a very productive meeting with Mayor NoblePumpmon. I was able to persuade him to support our cause."
"Yeah?" Beelzebumon asked with a teasing smirk. "How'd you do that, Lili-chan? Did ya jump his gourd?"
"No, I'll leave that to you," Lilithmon retaliated indignantly. After her initial annoyance, she smiled, breathed in the deep bouquet of her wine, and took a polite sip of the alcoholic liquid. "All I really needed was my silver tongue and, with that alone, he was practically on his hands and knees before me. While Demon needed a week to conquer those foolish lords with his fists, all I needed was ten minutes to wrap two mayors around my little finger. That… that is called 'charm', men."
"Thank you for that, Lilithmon," Bagramon told her appreciatively. "The quick acquiescence of both Sepulcrum and Vespers is very important for our plans. I don't think any of us wanted to get bogged down in besieging the two largest cities in the Gloaming Fields. We're at a point where we have to move quickly."
"I'm glad that at least one of you is a gentleman who shows some appreciation," Lilithmon replied, still rotating the liquid in her glass into a small whirlpool. She cast an alluring gaze over to Bagramon. "It is just a pity about what they did to your body…"
"…Indeed," Bagramon answered, averting his gaze away from hers.
"Yes, I am relieved that you somehow managed to convince them to our way of thinking," Lucemon concurred, looking at her with a smirk.
Lilithmon's eyes flattened with disdain. "When you say it, you just sound patronizing," she dryly answered before taking a strong drink from her glass. After softly swallowing the liquid, she sighed and summoned an Evilmon servant for a refill. "Well, no matter. I suppose triumph is its own reward."
"Indeed it is," Lucemon declared. When the Evilmon approached him with a bottle of wine and a glass, the fallen angel merely sent him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now then, with the Gloaming Fields unified under our leadership, the initial phase of our plan is complete."
"Yeah," Leviamon grunted from the entrance of the hall. "So, now what?"
"Yeah, what do you brainiacs have planned next?" Beelzebumon asked before taking a swig of beer from one of the bottles he had managed to find in town.
"There are a few different matters that we must address at the moment," Bagramon responded.
"Oh, I got one!" Beelzebumon said, raising his hand. "What are we gonna do about the snooze ball in the garage? Are we ever gonna wake him up or what? Do we even know how to wake him up?"
"I have been doing some research on the locks that were placed on him, and there is a way," Bagramon explained. "And, yes, I believe that we will need Belphemon's power soon. However, it is a matter of timing. When is the best time to begin the unshackling ritual?"
"Belphemon is certainly a powerful tool," Lucemon agreed. "Bagramon is right. We have to unleash his rage at the optimal time so that we can harness his energy productively."
"He's a real tool, alright," Beelzebumon muttered with a smirk.
"Yes, he is not exactly a morning person," Lilithmon remembered with a sigh. "If anybody should be on his bad side when he's grumpy, it should be the Royal Knights or the angels."
Lucemon looked at the half-skeletal fallen angel. "Bagramon, I believe we may need him in one of the coming operations. Find whatever you need for the ritual quickly."
Bagramon nodded quietly. While the other Demon Lords either campaigned against the other nobles or tried to persuade them to their cause, he devoted much of his time to reading the Yggdrasil Codex. It was a lengthy tome with archaic script, so it required much attention and an encyclopedic level of knowledge to parse. However, he believed it to be just as important to their cause as winning battles, if not more.
No, he was certain of it. Knowledge was the key to winning the struggle against God himself. He counted himself fortunate that he had had some help with deciphering the codex.
Bagramon turned his head and peered over his shoulder, the artificial façade of the destroyed right side of his face pivoting to look at the back section of the great hall.
Near the back of the room, standing beside NeoVamdemon, was the small, awkward-looking form of Wizardmon. He stood in the shadows, holding a half-drunk glass of water between his gloved hands. He watched uneasily as the Demon Lords commenced their strategy meeting. He didn't really want to be there, but Bagramon insisted that he stay.
Wizardmon scuffed the stone floor with his boot. He didn't want anything to do with military strategy or, indeed, this war at all. He wanted to leave. All he had wanted to do was research anomalies, but now he was way in over his head. He was a fugitive, who was witnessing a bunch of mass murdering Demon Lords declare war on what felt like the entire world.
He was terrified. But what could he do? Try to leave? He would be dragged back and they'd do - who knows what? – to him. He felt like a prisoner in this creepy castle, even if nobody said as much. All he could do was stay out of the way and keep close to Bagramon. Bagramon was the only one who he trusted here. He was the only one who he felt would protect him. However, even Bagramon was nothing like he seemed when they had first met.
The one-eyed demon, even though Wizardmon had been frightened by his appearance, had seemed so kind and welcoming. Bagramon seemed like he had all the answers, and he actually enjoyed working with him to uncover the mysteries of the Dark Rift.
But now…? Ever since the Demon Lords appeared, there was a determination – a darkness – that emanated from Bagramon. He seemed like he would stop at nothing to achieve his ends. He was almost nothing like the Bagramon he had first met those couple years ago. Or maybe that Bagramon was just a façade, and he was always like this. It seemed to Wizardmon that Bagramon was ready to wage a war against God and the entire world.
For the past few days, Bagramon had Wizardmon researching a bunch of scientific texts and dissertations that Bagramon had accumulated. The topic was his field of interest: dimensional barriers and pocket dimensions. This was something he could really lose himself in – something that he loved doing. And while he was fascinated by the intellectual pursuit, for some reason, he couldn't enjoy it like he used to.
Satiating his own curiosity was no longer enough to justify what was going on around him. He felt responsible, and he knew that the research he was being made to do might cause further bloodshed. The guilt was eating away at him. Alphamon had been right. He was complicit in the Demon Lords actions, even if his hands weren't dirty. Now he was on track to cause even more harm. He hated it.
Still… what could he do? He was just a small, scrawny wizard who was interested in science. He doubted he would be able to escape. Was there anything he could do other than be dragged along by Bagramon and the Demon Lords? He felt doomed either way. If they lost this war, he would be guilty by association. If they won, hundreds of thousands of Digimon might die and he would be partially responsible.
Wizardmon felt helpless. The guilt, fear and despair in his heart were almost too much to bear. As he stood in the dark, he pulled the rim of his hat down and blinked back the tears that began to emerge in his eyes. He wished that he was back in that hut with Alphamon. He wished that he could explain to him. He wished that there was something he could do to make things right…
Wizardmon blinked. That was it. Maybe there was a way. Maybe there was something he could do.
Bagramon trusted him. He trusted him enough to let him in on his plans. While the Demon Lord certainly kept his information limited, Wizardmon at least knew some of what Bagramon planning. He had been there when Bagramon sent Blitzmon and Bolgmon on a special mission, after all.
Maybe… Just maybe… he could do something to make up for his willful ignorance.
Wizardmon looked over at Bagramon and the Demon Lords. They were all in the middle of planning strategy. He hadn't really been paying attention, as he was so wrapped up in his own problems. He doubted they would notice if he was gone; he wasn't exactly contributing anything. Maybe he could make a subtle escape back to his room.
He glanced up at the NeoVamdemon beside him nervously. The tall, gaunt, nosferatu listened intently to the arch demons' discussion. Wizardmon doubted that he paid him any mind either.
He turned away from him and slowly started walking away from him, moving along the long wall of the hall to the door that was in the center.
"Are you going somewhere?" NeoVamdemon asked in a voice as deep and cold as the dungeons of the castle.
An icy chill crept down Wizardmon's spine and he stopped in his tracks. He swallowed and nervously glanced over his shoulder. "Er… I'm going to go back to my room…" he uneasily replied.
"Didn't Lord Bagramon request your presence?" the vampire questioned, narrowing his eyes.
"H-He was just being polite…" Wizardmon summoned his courage to respond. "I don't actually have anything to contribute here… I would be put to better use researching like Bagramon asked me to… plus… I kind of have to use the facilities…"
The NeoVamdemon sighed and shook his head. "Fine. Go," he answered with a dismissive wave.
"Thank you, Sir…" he replied.
Wizardmon turned forwards and continued walking along the wall. It wasn't until he released the large door that he felt bold enough to release a sigh of relief. Once there, he glanced covertly over his shoulder. To his relief, the Bagramon and the Demon Lords were too busy talking to notice his exit. He supposed that was one bonus to being small and unassuming.
He clasped his gloved hands together and began quickly walking down the long, gothic corridor. He knew he had to act fast, while the meeting was still going on. His strides were quick, but not so swift as to attract attention in case NeoVamdemon's servants were watching.
As Wizardmon made his way back to his room, the Demon Lords continued their meeting.
"Well… Concerning more practical matters…" Barbamon continued, tapping the butt of his Death Lure staff against the floor. "I have been in contact with Count Murmuxmon."
"Who?" Beelzebumon asked before taking another drink from his glass.
"One of my vassals from the Dark Area," Barbamon responded. "He and a couple hundred other Nightmare Soldiers escaped during the Dark Area fracture. Apparently, they've taken up residence in Dark Point and have taken over the shipping district at the expense of the other syndicates in the city."
"In Dark Point? Why there?" Demon questioned.
"Because that's near where one of the larger fissures had opened," Bagramon responded.
"Yes. Since they were separated from us, apparently they went into Dark Point and started making nuisances of themselves," Barbamon replied. "It seems that they were eventually able to gain a foothold by edging one gang – the Talons – out and monopolizing the main ports. Yes, there has been a series of violence and murder on both sides, but that's business; it sounds like they're turning a nice profit now."
"Uh huh. And other than your pockets getting fatter, why does this matter?" Beelzebumon wondered, tossing the empty beer bottle over his shoulder, knowing that a PicoDevimon servant would frantically swoop down to catch it.
Barbamon rolled his eyes and looked at the leather-clad demon. "Try to keep up, Beelzebumon. I already have to speak slower so that Leviamon can understand," the bearded demon lord explained, earning him a bitter glare from the crocodile. He clasped his gaunt fingers together and squeezed the staff between his hands. "It seems like they've added a decent amount of Dark Point's demon population to their ranks as well, putting their numbers at over four hundred and counting."
"What else did he say?" Lucemon wondered.
"Count Murmuxmon said that a cult started by some exiled fallen angels cropped up in Dark Point around the time of our escape," Barbamon answered. A crooked grin crept onto his pale face.
"They go by the name of The Deliverers of the Light of the Falling Stars – or simply 'The Deliverers' as that is rather a mouthful," Barbamon explained with a demonstrative shrug. "Apparently they're a millenarian cult that has been gaining followers from the wretched poor and the opportunistic. They believe that the return of the Seven Great Demon Lords is a sign of the apocalypse that will end the current cycle, and that only the chosen ones will be spared from the coming purge. They seek to 'deliver' this calamity and aid us in our conquest."
Lucemon smiled darkly and folded his arms. "Hm… I like that. They are not wrong either," he stated. "How many followers do they have?"
"Over a hundred and counting, he says," Barbamon answered, opening up a scroll and rereading the letter. "Count Murmuxmon, Baron SkullSatamon, and the Twentieth Legion have been working with the cult's leaders; he assures me that they have already been co-opted for our purposes. They will follow us willingly. In fact, they have already been using the cult as a nefarious arm of the Legion. While they have been fighting gang wars, they arranged for the cult sew chaos in the city by staging riots and starting fights with gangs. Just recently, they had the cult assassinate key figures in Dark Point: the vice mayor, one of the commanders of the Night Guard, and a few other influential Digimon. Dark Point is becoming increasingly divided and unstable."
Lucemon smirked and inspected his fingernails. "Ergo, Dark Point is ripe for the picking…"
Lilithmon sauntered over to the table, placed her wine glass down, and looked at the map. "While intriguing, there is one obvious problem… We aren't anywhere near Dark Point." She placed the claw of her Nazar Nail on the map, circling a point on the west coast of Eniac, just past midway down the map. "Dark Point is on the furthest tip of the Western Reaches. Standing between us and it is the Metal Empire and the Autonomous Expanse. That is roughly the same distance away that New Terminal was. Why would we want to capture a city that is so far away?"
"It's an easy victory," Barbamon explained. "Not just that, but Dark Point is a major trade hub. We need a port on the Delta Ocean if we have any hope for maritime access. And we need to take control of some of the trade coming in from Iliad over on the Colossus continent."
"Of course, it all comes down to money for you," Lilithmon argued. "Look at what happened when we let your greed form our strategy: we were sent running from New Terminal."
Bagramon frowned sceptically and turned to Barbamon. "Lilithmon has a point. It is very far away, no matter how financially enticing it might be," he concurred, wondering about Barbamon's motives. "It isn't like New Terminal, which we could easily approach by taking the Grand Highway."
"It isn't just about money, not that that is anything to sneer at," Barbamon said with narrowing eyes. "Strategically, having a major port gives us more options. Also unlike New Terminal, which would have been difficult to capture and difficult to hold, Dark Point will be easy to capture and easy to hold. It's in an extremely strategic location, with a pliable population. The darkness of the city favours us."
Barbamon looked between Bagramon and Lilithmon. "Dark Point is an independent city with no army, only powerful law enforcement in the Night Guard, which poses no real threat to us. Furthermore, the Royal Knights won't be expecting it. Unlike New Terminal, they won't be in any hurry to try to rescue such an amoral city that would be difficult to attack."
"Barbamon makes some good points," Lucemon mused, twirling a lock of hair around his finger as he gazed at the point on the map. "I think that this is a necessary conquest. However, I don't want another half-victory like with New Terminal.
"If it's difficult to attack, how would we have any better chance?" Demon asked. "Marching our army south again seems foolish when we could be putting it to better use elsewhere."
"We use the lessons we learned from our successes here," Barbamon explained. "A mixture of force and diplomacy. Given the instability in Dark Point, I think that a single Demon Lord linking up with the Legion in Dark Point would be enough to tip the balance. Bribe the right people, kill the right people, and make a push to capture the administrative heart of the city. That should be enough to make them submit."
"One Demon Lord travelling alone does fix the logistical problems of moving an entire army through hostile territory," Demon supposed.
Leviamon narrowed his eyes. He began to get to feel like he wasn't being included in the conversation. "Even if that works, how are we supposed to get there? It's still far down on the coast!" he protested.
"Simple," Barbamon replied. "We travel west of here and absorb the Deserted Wastes into our territory. It isn't exactly important territory, and nobody will put up any resistance, but we can take the Port of Souls on the western coast. It's a small, ramshackle port, to be sure, but, that way, we will have a direct route by sea between our territory and Dark Point."
"Yes, that all makes sense," Lucemon agreed, walking up to the map and drawing a line with his finger from the Port of Souls. "That frees up our army as well. We really have nothing to lose, do we?" The humanoid angel turned his head and glanced over at Bagramon, who was deep in thought. "What do you think, Bagramon?"
"Hmm…" Bagramon thought carefully, mulling over Barbamon's argument. He had been sceptical at first, especially after Barbamon's dubious risk in attacking New Terminal before. However, Barbamon's words were persuasive. While it was ambitious, there was no real risk to their plans, and he could see the benefits of having captured Dark Point. "I suppose I have no objections," he finally said. "Which Demon Lord do you intend to send?"
At this question, Leviamon immediately stepped forwards. "I'll go!" he declared assertively. In his head, he decided that this was their last chance. If the other Demon Lords failed to recognise him, he would have no choice…
Lucemon and Barbamon both turned towards him with distasteful leers.
"You?" Lucemon questioned, his voice dripping with derision.
"Trusting you with an important task? After the debacle you caused in New Terminal? Oh, what a wonderful idea." Barbamon sarcastically exclaimed.
"Why not?!" Leviamon demanded angrily. "If I swim there, I can get there in no time! I can get there way faster than any of you can. I'll be there in less than a day!"
"That doesn't change the fact that you will likely screw it up somehow," Barbamon answered with a flick of his hand.
Lucemon stared at Leviamon, his icy blue eyes cold and penetrating as he gazed at the reptilian Demon Lord.
Bagramon frowned and looked at Lucemon carefully. He could see the Demon Lord of Pride's antipathy and reluctance. After a second, he glanced back at Leviamon. He saw the indignation and outrage in Leviamon's crocodilian eyes. There had been palpable tension between them since New Terminal. Even before, they hadn't been on good terms. Bagramon worried that the Demon Lords' old rivalries were getting in the way of a unified crusade.
The half-skeletal Demon Lord walked up to Leviamon and leaned forwards, whispering in his ear. "Respectfully, Lucemon, it might be wise to let him go. He brings up a good point about being the best suited to travel to Dark Point," he advised the foremost Demon Lord.
Lucemon narrowed his eyes slightly and turned towards Bagramon. "I don't trust him," Lucemon murmured harshly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he took the city and kept it for himself."
"We must learn to trust each other if we hope to have any chance of succeeding," Bagramon encouraged him.
Lucemon frowned and leered at Leviamon steadily. After a few moments of thinking, Lucemon shook his head. "Trust must be earned," he decided, refusing to bow to Bagramon's point. The well-dressed fallen angel turned his incongruous body and stared at Demon. "Demon, you will go to Dark Point."
"Very well," the cloaked Demon Lord of Wrath answered.
At Lucemon's words, Leviamon felt his anger begin to bubble up inside of him. He closed his massive snout and quietly gnashed his jagged teeth together. His bitterness and resentment swelled in his stomach like a forming maelstrom.
Again and again, he felt he was treated like a joke. He felt cast aside, disrespected. He was made a target of fun. He was blamed for the failure to capture New Terminal. The Demon Lords treated him not as an equal, but as a patsy. They didn't respect him. They didn't respect his power. He felt they ought to treat him with the respect that he deserved.
The perceived slights against him caused his blood to boil. He hated all of them. But, in particular, he hated Lucemon. Who did that jumped up angel think he was? He had been but a boy when they started their rebellion in the Sky Colonies. He had none of the military experience that Leviamon had. Yet, why did they all follow him? Why was he seen as the leader of their rebellion? Because he spoke well? Because he read a few books? What did he have that Leviamon didn't? Why did he get to be at the top? Why did the others kneel before him? He was twice the Digimon that Lucemon was. Wasn't he?
As these thoughts and feelings swirled around Leviamon's head, his simmering resentment bubbled into a raging boil. His body tensed up and his bitter, reptilian eyes narrowed into slits. His avarice blackened his mind. Even so, he was prescient enough to bottle up his negative emotions. This had been the Demon Lords' last chance to give him the respect he deserved. Now they were going to suffer the consequences.
However, he knew that he couldn't blow a gasket in front of them like he wanted to. He had to be smart. He had to be patient. He had to put on a subservient mask, like he had been doing.
Leviamon had a plan. He just needed the right bargaining chip. He had to play along for now. Having just enough self-awareness to know that it would be uncharacteristic for him not to complain, he let out an indignant snort. Even so, he couldn't let too much anger come out, or else they might distrust him further.
"You're an idiot. I can do a much better job than Demon can," Leviamon grumbled indignantly. "But whatever. Don't blame me if that horn-head screws it up."
"We can't leave such an important mission to somebody with a record like yours," Lucemon informed him, leering at him aloofly out of the corner of his eyes. "Try not to take it personally."
"You're askin' the lizard with scales thinner than paper not to take something personally?" Beelzebumon mockingly chuckled. "Hell, know your crowd, Lucy."
Leviamon scoffed and glanced away. Although on the outside, he was grudgingly acquiescent, on the inside, he was seething with hatred.
Bagramon, still sensing some hostility between them, tried to play the peacemaker. "We'll need your skills elsewhere, Leviamon. Let Demon do this for us," he beseeched him in an attempt to assuage Leviamon's ego.
However, Bagramon's smooth words fell on deaf ears. At this point, the Demon Lord just thought he was being patronized. No, Leviamon had already made his mind up.
"Yeah, whatever…" Leviamon standoffishly replied. His large, crocodilian body remained in the massive, arching doorway. He went quiet and emanated a cold atmosphere but he didn't raise any more protest to the decision.
"Aw, don't pout, Levi. If you're bored, you can always give Belphe a hose down. He really needs it," Beelzebumon teased him with a laugh.
"Nobody asked you," Leviamon barked.
Bagramon sighed and walked over to the map. He placed his organic hand on the surface of the table and looked at the northern portion of the map. He didn't look at a specific place on the map in particular, but around at the northern hemisphere more generally.
"So, apart from Dark Point, what is our next move?" Beelzebumon wondered.
"We should take revenge on the Sky Colonies," Demon spoke, looking around at the Demon Lords through the shroud of his cloak. "They are becoming bolder. During our campaign, the Empyreal Host launched an exploratory attack on us from some sort of mobile sky base. We were able to drive them back, but the blow they struck was not insignificant. I know not where that fortress fled to, but I doubt they will attack again so soon."
"Yes, it seems that they have been producing new weapons called Sky Fortresses," Bagramon replied, not looking up from the map. "They are similar in purpose and utility to the Royal Base's carriers, acting as fast, mobile transports from which they can deploy hosts of soldiers quickly."
"Then we'll just have to knock them out of the sky," Lucemon responded with a matter-of-fact smile. "With that said, it is too soon to launch a direct attack on the Sky Colonies. If they send a fortress towards us, of course we will destroy it, but, at this point, we are still laying the groundwork for our eventual victory."
"However…" Barbamon spoke up, glancing over at Lucemon. "If we have an opportunity to get the upper hand over them, we should surely take it, yes?"
"That will be determined when the situation arises," Lucemon replied. "Only if it helps to further our long term goals."
"Yes, yes," Barbamon responded with a swift sweep of his bony hand. "Well, you focus on the big picture like you always do. I'll be the details man."
Demon folded his sleeved arms across his chest, nudging the golden amulet that hung from his neck up slightly. "If not that, then what?" he asked.
"Seeing as we are already taking one seedy city, perhaps we should move south to take Shroud as well," Lilithmon suggested with a smile.
Barbamon looked at the city on the map, which was one of the closer cities to their south. "It is possible… Shroud is an independent city like Dark Point, so they won't have much of an army. If we march our legions there, we could easily force them to surrender. If we do, we would extend our influence all the way to the limits of the Champion River," he hypothesized.
"And if we are able to do that, Saversberg would be at our mercy," Lucemon added with a dark grin.
"We should focus on the training and discipline of the fresh Legions in the short term," Demon answered.
"Not being a general, I will leave that military decision to you," Bagramon said, looking over at Demon and Barbamon. "However, there is one thing that must be done for the long term success of our plans…"
Lucemon placed his hands elegantly on his hips, thumbing the edge of one of his silver belts. "Are you referring to that thing that we talked about?" he asked one-eyed fallen angel.
"Yes, I am," Bagramon responded, staring back at Lucemon: Falldown Mode.
Leviamon narrowed his eyes with annoyance. What was this? Was it another thing that he was left out from?
"What thing?" he demanded as he tapped one of his talons against the floor, inadvertently putting a hole in NeoVamdemon's expensive rug.
Bagramon looked around at all of the other Demon Lords. "Military victory is extremely important to our success, and you are all doing a fine job in that department. However, we must not forget about winning theological victories as well," he explained.
Lucemon nodded and smiled charmingly at the other Demon Lords. "Let us not forget, we didn't just wage this crusade against the Three Great Angels in their role as temporal leaders. We waged this crusade against God himself," he reminded them. "Our ultimate goal is the overthrow of God."
Demon took a few steps forwards. "Are you saying that you have found a way to destroy him?"
Bagramon shook his head. "It is more like there is something that must be done in order for us to achieve victory in our war against God," he answered.
Lilithmon frowned. "And that something is…?" she wondered, tapping a finger on the body of her glass.
"We must capture the Arcane Ruins," Lucemon explained with a dark grin.
Leviamon's eyes widened. This was it. This was the information that he needed to hear. A ghost of a smile formed on his savage, reptilian snout.
"The Arcane Ruins?" Beelzebumon boredly asked, once again tossing an empty bottle over his shoulder for a PicoDevimon servant to nervously catch. He used his long claws to crack open another bottle of beer to drink. "…Why?"
"I have been doing a lot of research," Bagramon explained. "Over the years, I have read many books. Some old theological texts about Yggdrasil mention ancient ruins which hold great treasures as well as programming data that concerns the creation of Digimon."
"Wait, wait, what's this about treasure?" Barbamon asked, his eyes lighting up at the mention.
"The treasure is likely a metaphor for the programming data, but has since been taken literally by ambitious treasure hunters and thieves," Bagramon rebuffed him, causing Barbamon's face to fall. "The true importance of the Arcane Ruins is the encrypted data within, which traces back all the way to the First Cycle, if not the Null Origin itself."
"Are those not the ruins that Cherubimon once protected before he abandoned them to go on the Exodus?" Barbamon questioned, irritably tapping his staff. "Why would we care about some old, treasure-lacking ruins of Yggdrasil? Not even the fat rabbit cared enough to bother with them."
Demon nodded and narrowed his eyes coldly. "Why should we waste time on some old, heathen stones?"
Bagramon's eye drifted towards Barbamon and Demon. "Remember, the Religion of Light and the Yggdrasilian faith used to be one and the same. Our core beliefs came from ones that were altered from theirs. Whether we diverged from them rightly or wrongly, it would be a mistake to dismiss everything about the Yggdrasil faith as faulty. It was through studying all three of the faiths that I was able to come this far."
"I was sceptical at first as well," Lucemon explained, looking around at his fellow Demon Lords. "The heathens are almost as bad as the conformists in the Sky Colonies. However, dismissing the old-line faiths is something that the Three Angels and their false god told us to do. We cannot trust their lies. Perhaps, in the pagan faiths, there are clues that they didn't want us to find; clues that reveal the true nature of God."
"I cannot deny the possibility…" Lilithmon deliberated. "But what is it about the Arcane Ruins that makes them valuable? What do we hope to achieve?"
Bagramon stepped forwards. "I have been scouring the hidden reaches of the Yggdrasil Codex. Hidden pages have been revealed. Encrypted data has been deciphered," he informed them. He lowered his horned head to look down at the map. As he did, a lock of his white hair hung down in front of his face, and his visage darkened beneath the torchlight. "I have learned that, within these ancient records, lies not only the secrets about the creation of Digimon, but something even greater…"
He turned to them, the ruby in his hollow eye flashing crimson.
"The location of the Kernel."
Demon's fists tightened softly. "God's domain…" he whispered. "The location jealously guarded by Cherubimon."
"Are you certain?" Barbamon inquired sceptically. "Why would Cherubimon leave the Arcane Ruins to the six-legged ass if those ruins really contained the location of God?"
Bagramon paused for a moment. He knew the true answer to that question, but he couldn't tell the Seven Great Demon Lords why. He feared that, if he did, they wouldn't go along with the plan. He couldn't say without a doubt that he was right, but he was fairly certain from his research that his hypothesis was correct.
This was his best bet to access the Arcane Ruins' secrets. He couldn't let the Demon Lords' petty prejudices and preconceptions get in the way of what needed to be done.
"He was mistaken," Bagramon calmly answered. "When the Religion of Light was first created, there was a lot of confusion - nothing like the canon strictures of today. The movement's doctrine was fluid until the First Celestial Conclave. Breaking from something that is as entrenched as the Yggdrasilian faith is not without its trials. I can't speak for Cherubimon, but I wouldn't be surprised if he made the error in the early days of the Exodus."
Barbamon eyed Bagramon, as if trying to read his expression. The notion struck him as odd, as one would think that Cherubimon would know the contents of the ruins he was protecting. However, Barbamon considered that Cherubimon was always one to follow blindly. Although he had some doubts, he supposed it was possible.
"Very well…" he tentatively responded.
"And where are the Arcane Ruins?" Demon questioned.
Bagramon stared at the northern area of Eniac. "I don't have an exact location yet. However, I have a pretty good idea based off of my research. Obscure books and the personal diaries and correspondence of lost adventurers have mentioned it being in a frozen tundra. That left me to narrow it down. However, upon reading some of the hidden pages of the Yggdrasil Codex, I learned that it is located in the glaciers of Cathode Tundra, just below the Aurora Mountains."
"Ugh, not there again," Beelzebumon complained. "I nearly froze my sweet ass off! My baby doesn't like it either; it makes Behemoth sluggish."
"It won't be easy to access either," Bagramon explained, stroking his ebony beard with his fingers. "Their entrance is said to be deep below the ice of the glacier. Special equipment will be necessary to reach it. I also suspect that it is guarded."
"Those obstacles are easily surmounted," Lucemon answered confidently. "The only one that remains is where to find it. Bagramon, do you think you will be able to access the location?"
"Yes, I believe so, if we are all willing to send an expedition up there," Bagramon confirmed.
"If it means we can obliterate God, so be it…" Demon responded, his voice simmering with cold flames. "However, we cannot short-change our military efforts for some flight of fancy. We must have a strong force with several Demon Lords if we are to begin our southern conquest."
"I understand, Demon, but we must also have Demon Lords present in the Cathode Tundra to deal with any guardians or other unseen opponents," Bagramon contended with a frown.
"Why don't we have both?" Lucemon suggested with a calm smile. "We could split our efforts."
"I suppose so," Bagramon agreed, continuing to rub his beard as he thought to himself. "We can figure out the devil in the details at a later time. Demon, since you have to go to Dark Point anyways, there is no hurry when it comes to launching our next operation. We have the better part of a week to train and prepare for what comes next."
"Very well," Lucemon spoke. "Is there anything else that needs to be addressed?"
Bagramon shook his head. "I would just like to note that the team of mercenaries that I hired should be arriving in the Gloaming Fields within a couple of days. Kowloon Company will create a temporary mercenary camp somewhere within the region. We will need to make sure that they are well provisioned with goods and supplies from Sepulcrum."
The longer Leviamon listened, the more impatient and annoyed he became. He was done with all of this. He was done with them.
He had the information that he needed now. There was no reason for him to stay any longer. He just had to find the right opportunity to leave. It was hard for him to be subtle, but he had to find a way to obscure his intentions from everybody.
Leviamon grunted and began to back out of the great hall. With not enough space for him to turn around in the castle foyer, he had to exit tails-first.
As it was hard not to notice when a giant crocodile who barely fit in the room was leaving, the Demon Lords all glanced at him.
"Where d'you think you're goin', Fluffy?" Beelzebumon asked him with an impish smirk.
"I'm sick of listening to you all jabbering on," Leviamon grumbled in response. "I'm going out. Maybe I'll try to catch some fish in the Weeping River."
"Oh, great, so you're going to come back with fish breath," Lilithmon complained.
"Tch," Leviamon scoffed, his eyes narrowing into bitter slits. "Don't worry, Your Highness. You won't be anywhere near my breath."
"I somehow doubt that, considering how much you enjoy opening your mouth," Lilithmon sniped back.
"Whatever you say," Leviamon rumbled deeply, slowly reversing out of the building. "I can't wait to see the back of all of you."
"Can't say I feel the same about your fat ass, Levi!" Beelzebumon said with a light guffaw.
Leviamon snarled. As much as he felt compelled to tell all of them off and get the last word, he knew he couldn't. He bit down on his tongue to keep it from spilling his venomous intentions. He told himself that he would eventually be satisfied in getting the last laugh.
As Leviamon's head disappeared in the darkness of the foyer, his eyes glowed with a soft emerald hue. Slowly, his snout disappeared into the darkness until he could no longer be seen. All that could be felt were Leviamon's reverberations in the ground beneath them.
"I think Levi's got the right idea," Beelzebumon said. The lithe, three-eyed Demon Lord stretched and placed his hands on his hips. "We done here? I think we done here."
"Yes, I think that more or less covers everything," Bagramon agreed, looking over at Lucemon.
Lucemon nodded with confirmation. "Yes. As Barbamon said, we can figure out the finer details of the campaign over the next couple days."
Demon's shrouded eyes inspected Lucemon narrowly. "I will leave for Dark Point tonight with a handful of experienced officers. Don't make any major decisions without me."
"Very well, Demon," Lucemon replied. "Do succeed in taking Dark Point. I want a victory after New Terminal."
"I will triumph," Demon answered, smoothly turning away. As Demon made for the door, the other Demon Lords also began to exit the great hall and go their separate ways.
Bagramon walked up to the table in the center of the hall and looked over the map of Eniac. He traced his wooden finger over the Cathode Tundra. "There must be some sort of landmark where the ruins are…" he internally mused as he inspected the north section of the map.
The Demon Lord dressed in white began to carefully roll the map into a scroll shape. As he did, he looked up towards the far wall where NeoVamdemon was lingering. As the vampire moved, Bagramon noticed that Wizardmon was missing. Thinking about it, Bagramon didn't remember Wizardmon being present for much of the meeting.
Bagramon frowned curiously and briefly wondered to himself. He tied the scroll's seal firmly and tucked the map underneath his arm.
The fallen archangel of death was the last to leave the room. He walked quietly out the side door and made his way deeper into the corridors of the castle.
Although he had a few concerns, Bagramon felt quietly optimistic. Despite their bickering, the Demon Lords seemed to be holding together, their base of power was secure, and their army and resources were growing by the day. He had clear plans going forwards and tangible methods of reaching them.
Although he knew he couldn't let his guard down, he began to feel confident. Everything seemed to be going to plan…
Wizardmon sat in the small, dark, bedroom he had been given. The air was dank and musty from the old, mossy stones of the castle's foundations. He was afforded only a small window that looked out into the ominous, moonlit fields – not a scenic view that he really wanted. On the side of the room was a small bed, which made it obvious to him that this was a room for the castle help rather than for noble guests. The only other object of note in the room was a desk.
Wizardmon sat at that desk. All of the academic texts and tomes that he had been reading had been pushed to one side to make space. On the right hand corner of the desk was a candle that illuminated the area, giving him enough light to see what he was doing.
In his left hand, Wizardmon clutched his magical staff, the head of which glowed with a faint, green light. In the center of the desk was a magical circle that he had drawn on the wood with charcoal. In the center of the circle was a piece of paper, which he prepared to write on with the same piece of charcoal.
Before beginning, Wizardmon glanced over his shoulder, making sure that the door behind him was locked. If he got caught… He didn't even want to think about it. He certainly wasn't in a hurry to test out the torture devices in the dungeons. Still… he had to do something, no matter how scared he was.
"I hope this works…" he thought to himself.
Wizardmon sighed and licked his stitched lips, giving them the lubricant they needed if he was going to do this right. He glanced at his glowing staff, then, again at the door, and then back down at the desk before him. He released a calm breath and began.
The mage began reciting a magical incantation in an ancient tongue. As he did, the glimmer of his wand intensified and the magical circle scrawled on the desk began to luminesce.
When the incantation finished, Wizardmon began to write Digimoji on the piece of paper. As soon as each letter was written, they started to exhibit the same sheen. In tandem with each word, Wizardmon began to speak, though he did so as softly as he possibly could.
"Dear Alphamon,
It is Wizardmon. The one you met in Bagramon's hut in New Terminal. I'm sorry for contacting you in this way, but it's the only way I can, under the circumstances. I'm sorry about everything. I didn't want to leave the hut. I wanted to wait for you to come back, but Blitzmon and Bolgmon showed up, and I didn't have a choice but to go with them. They took me back to the Demon Lords' castle in the Gloaming Fields. It's called Castle Nocturn.
I don't have much time, so I have to be quick. I know that a lot of the blame for the Demon Lords' release is because of me. I'm sorry. I didn't want any of this to happen. But I want to make things right. That's why I want to tell you what I learned. I know this won't be enough to make up for everything, but… I know what Bagramon is planning right now.
He sent Blitzmon and Bolgmon down to the Forest of Equilibrium to steal the Orb of Yang from a Heavenly Choir monastery. I'm still not quite sure what he plans to do with it, but I think it might have to do with what he's planning next. I'm pretty sure he wants to access some sort of pocket dimension. I don't know if this means the Dark Area or something else. He doesn't tell me everything, but he has me help. If I learn anything else, I'll tell you through this spell. I'm not allowed to leave.
I hope you stop them. I don't want more innocent Digimon to get hurt.
I'm sorry again. Please find me.
Wizardmon"
As soon as Wizardmon finished, he raised his staff and pressed it against the completed letter. The piece of paper glowed and began to float into the air. Once airborne, the page began to fold in on itself until it took on the shape of a bat.
The paper bat began flapping its small wings rapidly, each wing beat emanating a little bit of magic.
"Go find Alphamon in Castle Albion," Wizardmon spoke, thinking of the Digimon and location in question in his mind's eye.
The messenger bat immediately turned and flew out the small window. Wizardmon watched as his message disappeared into the dark and eerie night that hung over the Gloaming Fields. He hoped his message would make it that long distance.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door that nearly caused Wizardmon to jump out of his cloak.
"Wizardmon? Are you in there?" Bagramon's deep, even voice asked. "I need to speak with you."
Wizardmon's grey face blanched and a primal chill crawled down his bones into the pit of his stomach. The words incited a fear in him so deep and intense that he felt as if he would freeze.
Had Bagramon heard him? Did he know what he was doing? He had that all-seeing eye – had he been found out?
It was then that Wizardmon realized there was still a magical circle on his desk. Panicking, Wizardmon began to rapidly try to scrub the charcoal off the desk using his gloved hand. "Just a minute!" he called out, his eyes wide and his legs shaking.
While not getting rid of the charcoal, he had succeeded in making a large smudge on his desk, but the circle was still basically visible. In a panic, Wizardmon grabbed the pile of books and sprawled them over the surface of the desk to cover the circle.
Knowing he couldn't stall any longer, Wizardmon walked over and opened the locked door to his room. Standing over him was Bagramon, who gazed down at him with a calm but rigid expression.
"Bagramon?" Wizardmon asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"You left the meeting early…" Bagramon noted, staring down at his face. "Is there any reason why?"
"I-I'm sorry," Wizardmon stammered in response. "You were talking about military stuff and I felt like I was only in the way, so I decided to come back to my room to study. I didn't mean any offence."
"It is alright…" Bagramon responded, though an inquisitive frown formed on his face. He couldn't help but notice that Wizardmon's face was paler than usual, as well as slightly sweaty. "Are you alright, Wizardmon? You look unwell…"
"I just feel a little under the weather. I think it's this climate," Wizardmon answered uneasily.
"Yes, I suppose that is understandable," Bagramon replied. "The reason why I asked you to sit in on the meeting was because I revealed my personal plans for what comes next."
"You plans? I-I'm sorry. What plans?"
"The capture of the Arcane Ruins," Bagramon explained, his single, organic eye fixed on Wizardmon's face. "I plan to unearth those mystical ruins and discover the secrets of the world that they conceal within."
Wizardmon's eyes widened with astonishment. "The… The Arcane Ruins? I thought they were a myth."
"They are very real, Wizardmon," the fallen angel assured him. "All of our research… everything we have been working towards has led us to the secrets of the Arcane Ruins. Once we learn their secrets… then we can begin the next step." There was a small smile of Bagramon's dark face, accentuated by the soft glimmer of his ruby Snake Eye.
Wizardmon swallowed but nodded.
Bagramon leaned down towards Wizardmon and placed his natural hand on the wizard's caped shoulder. He made it so that they were nearly eye level, and their proximity close.
"To do that… I need your help, Wizardmon. Will you help me fulfill my dream? Will you help me make this world a better place?" he asked him warmly.
Wizardmon felt a bead of sweat creep down the back of his neck. He could feel his heart racing. Although he was afraid, Bagramon's words seemed sincere. It seemed like he really believed in what he was saying… and that he believed in Wizardmon too.
"…Yes. I will, Bagramon…" Wizardmon gently replied.
Bagramon smiled and stood up again, removing his hand from Wizardmon's shoulder. "Thank you. I couldn't have done this without you," he told him. "I trust you, Wizardmon."
"Y-You're too kind…" Wizardmon said, looking down to hide his wince with his hat.
"You should get some rest," Bagramon told him, turning away from the mage. "We can continue this tomorrow."
Wizardmon nodded. "Alright…"
Bagramon glanced at Wizardmon and nodded. Without another word, he walked down the corridor and disappeared from sight.
Wizardmon sighed and felt like he was about to collapse. It was such a relief that he hadn't been found out. He closed the door, pressed his cloaked back against the wood, and proceeded to slide down to the ground.
Although it was largely fear that made him say that he would help Bagramon, he couldn't deny that there was a part of him that really wanted to explore the Arcane Ruins. The secrets that they held… They could reveal everything. He could be the first natural scientist ever to learn their secrets.
Still, he didn't forget what he decided. He wanted to make things right. He knew that he was walking a very thin tight rope. Had he really committed to helping both Bagramon and the Royal Knights?
Wizardmon sighed and looked down at his trembling, gloved hands.
"This is all I can do…" he thought to himself. "I just hope the Royal Knights find me."
Wizardmon looked across the room to the cluttered desk that covered up the signs of his betrayal. Although he knew he was doing the right thing, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty.
"I hope I know what I'm doing…"
As dusk turned to midnight, the twin moons drifted further in the black sky.
Most of the Nightmare Soldiers were asleep in their camps, apart from the nocturnal undead. All was quiet in the dark of the night.
One creature stalked through the darkness. Despite his heavy body, he tried to make his foot falls as light as possible, carefully managing his weight with each step. His reptilian eyes scanned the dark exterior, putting his night vision to good use. His long pair of tails snaked across the grass as he walked close to the ground.
Leviamon prowled across the field towards the newest Nightmare Soldier encampment.
It was the camp where Count MarineDevimon's army was being kept. Naturally, as they were only just defeated and surrendered, they were treated with suspicion. Right now, they were closer to slaves than they were soldiers on equal footing, until they could prove their loyalty.
Leviamon glanced around with paranoia, frequently looking back at the large castle looming over him. He only had one chance. He had to get it right.
The Demon Lord of Envy stalked to the edge of the camp, inching towards the aggregation of black tents. There were guards loyal to the Demon Lords positioned at various points around the camp, keeping watchful eyes on the new 'recruits'.
As he neared the edge, he began to draw attention from some of the guards. It was hard to miss his massive body, even in the dead of night. However, they didn't think anything of it. He was one of the ones in charge, after all.
Outside of one of the larger tents, Leviamon spotted the Digimon that he was looking for: a Digimon that had the body of an egg, and two, green legs sticking out from holes beneath it. It turned towards him and stared through a shattered break in the front of the egg, within which two glowing eyes could be seen.
"You," Leviamon grunted lowly. "Digitamamon. You're the commander of the Count's army, aren't you?"
"Lord Leviamon?" Digitamamon asked, walking over to the reptilian Digimon and bowing. "Yes, that's correct. Baron in rank."
The giant reptile moved closer, until the tip of his snout was meters away from the egg demon's face. "Do you trust me?" Leviamon asked him conspiratorially.
"I… Yes? I do…" the Digitamamon hesitantly replied, the glowing eyes of his hidden, nebulous form narrowing just slightly.
Leviamon stared intensely into his soul with the eyes of rebellion. "Baron… Do you wish to take revenge on the Demon Lords for killing your Count?"
Digitamamon took a step backwards with shock and suspicion. "I… Is this a test? Are you testing my loyalty, my lord?"
Leviamon's eyes narrowed into yellow slits. "No. I asked if you trusted me."
"Lord Leviamon?" a voice said from the side.
Leviamon turned and saw a NeoDevimon guard standing nearby.
The NeoDevimon looked up at his superior uncertainly, wondering why Leviamon was asking such an odd question. "My lord… what are you do—"
Before the grey devil could even finish, Leviamon whipped his head around and snapped his mouth shut around the NeoDevimon's upper body. The Demon Lords' teeth sunk into his skin and shattered the mask covering his face. With a sharp wrench of his mouth, the NeoDevimon guard split apart around Leviamon's teeth and fragmented into data without so much as a sound.
Leviamon turned back to Baron Digitamamon, a fierce look in his eyes and blood running down his lips. "Do you still think this is a test?" he quietly snapped so as not to alert the other guards.
The Digitamamon's eyes widened with shock and confusion. Stunned, he slowly shook his body in the negative.
"Listen to me, Baron," Leviamon hissed. "I stand for all those who are walked all over by the tyrannical Demon Lords. I give a voice to those they ignore with their lofty plans and bloodthirsty conquest. I'm different. I care about my followers. They'll send latecomers like you off to die first. I can guarantee that."
Digitamamon frowned and looked up at the massive Demon Lord hesitantly. "I believe you… What do you want from us?" he asked.
"Right now? Nothing. Just your loyalty," Leviamon responded. "I'm leaving. There's something I need to do. I'd tell you all to fight through the guards, but once the others are alerted, we'd never get out. So, I'm sneaking off on my own."
The Demon Lord looked around cautiously, making sure nobody saw what he did. "But… I'll be back for you guys. Just lay low and do what they say. I'll keep in contact somehow, once I get my footing."
The Digitamamon frowned but nodded his body affirmatively. "Yes, my lord. I will do as you command," he promised.
"Good," Leviamon responded lowly. "Tell your trusted officers. Remember, if this gets out to anybody, the Demon Lords will think you're traitors, so be smart."
Leviamon licked the dark blood off of his lips and teeth before turning away. "I'll be back… Remember that I'm the only one of them who's looking out for you guys," he reminded him.
"I will…"
Leviamon grinned and gave him a wink. Without another word, the crocodile began swiftly stalking past the camp. He passed by the rows of tents and the confused guards, not giving them so much as a word.
After passing the edge of the legion's encampment, Leviamon continued stealthily dashing across the field. Though his heavy steps sent strong vibrations through the ground, Leviamon managed to disappear into the darkness.
He kept running until he reached the banks of the Weeping River. Leviamon slowed his crocodilian dash and took the moment to catch his breath.
The moons shone down upon the river, causing the peaks of the gentle waves to shimmer against his ruby scales. With the pale light reflecting against his body, Leviamon slowly slipped into the river. As he waded towards the deepest section of the water, Leviamon turned around and stared at Castle Nocturn, which was about two kilometers away from him now.
"Damn them all… You arrogant bastard, Lucemon," Leviamon hissed, his eyes narrowing with bitter contempt as he stared at the powerful bastion.
"Try to win this war without me. I dare you…" Leviamon rumbled as he slowly submerged his body into the deep river. "You'll wish I was on your side when I'm done. We'll see how well you do when all of your plans go up in smoke…"
Leviamon smirked darkly, his covetous eyes shining in the pale moonlight.
"I'll do as I see fit. Then, when you bastards fall, I'll be the one standing triumphant…"
Leviamon began to chuckle maliciously as he dipped below the surface of the river. The last thing that could be seen of him was his eyes. Those reptilian eyes flashed green before disappearing below the black depths.
"I'll remind you why they call me the Devil Beast."