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Title: Maoh, A Day Late
Summary: The darkness appears, and the finale begins.
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Part VI, Chapter 6
Epicenter
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The light wolf howled as the greatsword, glowing with esoteric energy, cleaved through it, almost cutting it in half. It writhed, giving one last wail before bursting apart and disappearing.
Adalbert sneered, sheathing his sword and pinwheeling one arm. He was still a little sore, he decided, and his swing hadn't been as strong as usual, but his injuries had healed up well.
It was well past time to leave the cursed Demon Kingdom. The border was just ahead of him, past the village he stopped to help out... to test his recovering skills at.
But somehow, Adalbert found himself hesitating.
"These were much bigger than usual. Nastier too," he mused, looking around at the devastation the pack of light wolves had caused. "There's been a lot of trouble recently, hasn't there?"
He'd heard the rumors: light wolf attacks - like the one here - people suddenly turning paranoid and distrustful, even the appearance of some powerful dark wraith in one village.
In his gut, Adalbert was sure of the cause.
"What the hell are they doing?" he muttered, scowling as he turned to glance east, toward the capital and Covenant Castle.
Gisela - summoned by his father after he showed up half-dead at the man's isolated estate, as the only person he could trust not to turn Adalbert in - hadn't mentioned anything much. She had seemed more interested in assuring him that the village he had helped attack all those months ago was recovering well. As if he cared.
The only thing she had been willing to confirm was that the Demon King had gathered three of the four Forbidden Boxes.
'What is he planning?' Adalbert wondered. He wasn't even sure who he meant, the Great One or that brat. Adalbert knew that there was some plan, some endgame toward which the Great One was leading them, using everyone as simply pawns to achieve some end. But what was it?
A plan four thousand years in the making...
The plan Julia had died for.
Adalbert cursed under his breath. His steps were brisk as he took off, the border quickly falling behind him and the capital drawing closer.
He would see this through to the end.
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The first sign was the birds. The entire massive flock took off without warning, their voices blending into a screeching cacophony of "Bad omen! Bad omen!"
Yuri ran outside, searching for the cause - an invasion, another of Anissina's failed experiments? - and he wasn't alone. As he scanned the castle grounds, he spotted Conrart and Wolfram nearby. They must have been in the middle of their daily sparring. But now Conrart crouched beside Wolfram, who appeared to have collapsed, clutching at his chest.
"What happened?" Yuri asked, running up to them, no longer so concerned for the birds' sudden flight. Conrart glanced up, and Yuri could see that he had dropped his practice sword to reach out for Wolfram, while his left arm hung limply at his side.
Before Conrart could answer, a shadow passed over them, and the courtyard filled with a deafening clatter, as an entire flock of the Bone-wing tribe suddenly descended from the sky. They dropped onto every flat surface - the roofs, the window sills, even the trees - turning their skull heads toward Yuri and the others. Their jaws clacked ceaselessly.
The maids were shrieking, while more guards burst out of the castle, doors banging, feet pounding, but everything was lost in the ongoing chaos.
Even when Gwendal stormed out, calling for order, his voice was lost in the cacophony. His expression was murderous, brow so furrowed that his eyes were barely slits. It took Yuri a moment to realize that his left eye had been squinted shut.
All three brothers turned to Yuri as he suddenly shot to his feet. Conrart was asking something, but Yuri could not make out the words.
"It's coming from the Tomb!" he yelled over his shoulder, already sprinting for the stables. "We have to go to the Tomb of the Great One!"
Whether they heard him or not, they all followed, Conrart helping Wolfram to his feet and Gwendal bringing up in the rear with a muffled curse.
The horses had panicked in the confusion, bucking against their restraints despite the soldiers' efforts to calm them. Yuri hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to waste time going to the Tomb on foot, but there's no way he'd be able to ride with the horses in this state.
Then, Conrart was moving past him, reaching for one of the steeds. Something about his actions or even his sheer presence allowed him to quickly gain control of the animal, though it continued to stamp the ground uneasily.
Barely pausing to check on Wolfram and Gwendal - making efforts to gain steeds of their own - Yuri let Conrart pull him up into the saddle, and two took off, out the gates, down through the city and toward the Tomb.
The capital was in a state of panic, and Yuri could see why as he looked up. The sky had suddenly and unnaturally darkened, and there was something in the air that made him shiver. He could feel Conrart react too, his muscles tensing, where he hung on to the man.
As they hit the road up the mountain, Yuri chanced a glance back. Not far behind, Wolfram and Gwendal were steadily following them. For a moment, Yuri wondered if he should try to make them stay back.
'That reaction... Wolfram also has a Key?' Yuri wondered. 'Murata said that all four Keys would be necessary if we went with his plan, but he also said that we didn't need to worry about finding them. He must have known...'
Even Yuri was not naive enough to believe it was a coincidence.
His expression darkening with equal measures of anger and worry, Yuri glanced up toward the Tomb. Something malevolent could be seen rising up from the stone structure, spreading outward, farther and farther. 'I made Murata wait because I disagreed with his plan,' he thought. 'But we might not have any other choice now... Maybe it's for the best if they come.'
He still had no idea how to save the Great One or destroy the Originators without following Murata's stupid plan.
The guards at the Tomb looked toward them with scared, hopeful faces, parting quickly to let their party through.
"Your Majesty!" one of the shrine maidens exclaimed. "It's Lady Ulrike and His Eminence! They went into the Great One's chamber and..." She gestured helplessly, at the foul atmosphere that was only growing thicker.
"All of you need to leave, right now," Yuri ordered. He continued, raising his voice over the shrine maidens' protests, "Don't worry about taking anything, just go, all of you! Get to Covenant Castle!"
Yuri glanced at Gwendal, knowing that he hadn't given the man much time to leave proper orders.
"Tell them to have the troops calm the citizens and begin evacuation, just in case," Gwendal said, his voice sharp and cold, for all that his frustration was not directed at the young women. "Gunter will handle the rest."
The shrine maidens exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them were willing to disobey a direct order from the Demon King. With surprising speed and order, they passed his command amongst themselves, assembled and began to move out.
Yuri and his party headed into the shrine, against the flow of white robed figures. But soon, even the hurried steps of the shrine maidens faded away into tense silence as they neared the inner sanctum.
The great doors had been blown open, one completely ripped off its hinges. Yuri ran the last stretch, narrowly cornering to burst into the Great One's chapter. The scene that greeted him made Yuri stumble in shock.
Ulrike's prone form lay halfway down the chamber, where she had been blasted away. Her long silver hair trailed around her, drifting in the shallow water that had overflowed the drains along the walls and flowed swiftly outward from the altar.
In front of the altar itself, Murata had managed to remain in place, his arms stretched out as he struggled to contain the dark power surging out of the Boxes. It swirled above him, heavy and roiling, ready to crash down at any moment.
"Take care of Ulrike!" Yuri called over his shoulder. He ran to Murata's side, raising his hands and calling on his own power. Like before, their magic easily merged together, growing even stronger.
Behind them, Conrart and Wolfram knelt next to Ulrike, gently propping her up as the Oracle began to stir. Her eyes slid open, unfocused for a moment, before everything came rushing back to her.
She gasped, trying to sit up. "I heard... I heard the Great One's voice," she murmured, her eyes widening. "He said..."
Her head snapped toward the altar and the two boys standing before it, straining to hold back the Originators' power. Her tiny form began to tremble as tears gathered in her eyes.
"Lady Ulrike!" Gwendal snapped, dragging her out of her thoughts.
Ulrike's gaze darted to them, face drawn in fear and desperation. "We have to get away!" she said suddenly. "The Great One... it's too late. They've found a way past his seal!"
It took all of Yuri's concentration to keep pushing the leaking darkness back, but Murata glanced back at her words. His brow furrowed in confusion, before he seemed to suddenly understand.
Light flared above them, from the Great One's crest. Biting off a curse, Murata abandoned his task. He grabbed Yuri and began to pull him away, but they didn't get far before they were thrown off their feet, as the entire Tomb trembled suddenly.
The Boxes flared with dark power, and the crest exploded above them. Chunks of rock rained down over the Demon Tribesmen, making them duck for cover.
Murata recovered first. Without even glancing back, he quickly rolled off Yuri and dragged him to his feet. But when he tried to pull Yuri toward the others, he found his friend rooted in place.
Yuri was staring at the altar, his eyes wide in shock. As the others pulled themselves up, following his gaze, they froze as well, unable to believe their eyes.
Even without turning, Murata could imagine what they saw. Futilely, for a moment, he closed his eyes and desperately wished it wasn't so.
The furiously struggling power of the four Boxes had calmed to a steady pulsing. In the middle of them stood a faintly glowing figure, looking down on the Demon Tribesmen like a great ruler from on high. The face, the features were all terribly familiar and revered - from the paintings that had been painstakingly reproduced - all belonging to the great founder of their kingdom.
"The Great One..." someone murmured in horrified shock.
However, there was no mistaking the aura that clung to him like a reaper's dark cloak. Ulrike's stifled sob rang through the suddenly silent chamber.
Even Yuri, who had known the truth of the situation, that this was a real possibility, felt stunned at the sight.
The Great One's eyes were still the same clear blue as three years ago, when he had still been struggling to remain himself. But the expression on his handsome face was completely different, cold and sneering.
Murata was the one to break the silence. Finally turning, he casually greet his old friend, "Hey. It's been a while."
The Great One smiled - smirked. "It has," he agreed with false casualness. "But thanks to all your hard work, I've finally returned. Well done."
His eyes swept over their group, lingering on Conrart.
He took a step toward them, his ugly smile widening. "Gathering all four Boxes, bringing together all four Keys... with this, I will finally possess the power I need."
One hand trailed over the lid of a Box. Against the aged wood, it was clear that his form remained insubstantial, still translucent and wavering like a mirage. As he moved forward, stepping past the Boxes, they could see that his legs and cloak faded into the shadows, making it seem as if he was floating, rather than walking.
"So what are you planning to do now?" Murata asked, pushing up his glasses. He seemed to be the only one capable of reacting in this situation.
"I will complete my return," the Great One said easily, spreading his arms to show his incomplete state. "Then... I will destroy all of our enemies and all those that oppose me. It's what I should have done from the start."
Murata let his eyes close for a moment, drawing a deep, shaking breath. 'I see. It's just as he feared.'
He smiled bitterly and murmured, "But it's alright. I'll fulfill your last request." Raising his voice, Murata called out, "Shibuya. Are you ready? It's time."
Yuri glanced at him, startled out of his own desperately spiraling thoughts.
"W-what? No, wait!" Yuri stammered, his eyes darting between his friend and the ghost slowly moving toward them, one measured step at a time. "Murata, there has to be another way!"
"There isn't!" Murata snapped, his voice cracking like a whip through the dark chamber. His clenched fists shook, and his entire body tensed like a taut wire. He yelled, "I don't want this either! But there isn't any other way! It's what he asked for! To stop him when he becomes a monster that desires to destroy everything..."
His outburst startled Yuri into silence.
"...That had been a foolish thing to say," the Great One said quietly, his voice almost gentle. "I didn't understand back then. This power is exactly what we needed. With it, I can finally bring peace to the Demon Kingdom and protect it from all those that would threaten us."
Murata bared his gritted teeth, rage barely held back. 'Making a mockery of not just his face and form, but even his wishes and ideal...' he thought furiously. 'It's too much. You've got no right!'
He glanced up, ready to snap at Yuri again, but the look on the other's face made him pause. Hope, understanding and determination passed across his features in quick succession. His reaction was the opposite of Murata's.
"...I see. I understand!" Yuri exclaimed. "The four thousand years you spent watching over everyone couldn't be forgotten so easily! You're still trying to protect everyone even now, even if you've lost your way!"
"Shibuya..." Murata whispered, staring in shock.
To him, the things the Great One was saying represented a mockery of his old friend's ideals. No matter how stubborn, occasionally arrogant, and generally trying the Wiseman had considered his friend, the Great One had never abused his great power and always sought to convince everyone to believe in him, rather than simply forcing them to obey.
He would have never wanted to destroy all those that opposed him. He would have never considered a peace created on the bodies of enemies to be true peace.
But... Yuri was right. The Great One's wish still remained, if distorted: to protect his people, to create a nation of their own, to usher in an age of peace.
Yuri's dark eyes met the Great One's suddenly blank gaze. "You're still there! You still haven't given up. I swear, I'll keep my promise. And I won't give up on you either."
Squaring his shoulders, he took a step toward the ghostly figure of the Great One.
"Your Majesty! Yuri!" Conrart called out, some instinct driving him to reach for Yuri.
The distance between them was too great. There was no chance he would reach Yuri in time, and Murata, standing beside Yuri, remained motionless.
He had felt it too - that instinctive knowledge that Yuri was about to rush in again. Still, Murata couldn't bring himself to stop Yuri.
'Shibuya, I'll believe in you,' he thought, desperately. 'So please... please...'
Even the Great One - or perhaps the Originators moving his form - watched Yuri motionlessly, unable to understand his actions.
Yuri's magic flared, burning away the clinging shadows and clearing a path for him. Finally breaking out of their stupor, the Originators tried to draw away, but it was too late. The Demon King reached out, and, shining with a bright aura, his hand slipped easily through the cloak of darkness around the Great One, through the shadows and into his translucent chest.
The Great One's form rippled, and a demonic visage superimposed itself over his features. It let out an inhuman roar, sending shadows surging at the Demon King. Its gaping maw opened wide, looming over him like a tsunami of darkness.
Yuri refused to waver. His narrowed eyes stared into the Great One's wavering features, and he focused on the memory of their previous meeting, the feeling of their souls intersecting for a single moment...
His finger grasped something indescribably warm, just as the darkness surged forward, the Great One's ghostly form dissolving into shadow. Yuri yanked his hand back, that soft, warm light in his palm, and snapped his arm back, flinging it behind him.
In the next moment, the darkness crashed down onto Yuri, engulfing him completely.
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((Ha, ha, ha, splat.))