The Devil of Zero

Disclaimer: Neither The Familiar of Zero nor Devil May Cry belong to me.

The Escape

– The Zero –

Newcastle Chapel
Afternoon

The chapel was, to put it frankly, a mess. There was blood pooling on the floor and bits of bodies scattered all about. The latter part would be cleared up quickly, given how the Frosts were going around plucking the pieces off of the floor and gulping them down.

At the dais, Wales and Louise were still rather stunned. The former, because somehow the rebels had managed to sneak in about fifty or so people all set to assassinate him when Wardes, a noble from a foreign nation, gave the signal, which altogether didn't mean good things for his fortress's security. The latter, because her childhood crush and romance, her betrothed partner and one of her idols had turned out to be a traitor to the crown and had tried to turn her into some sort of tool for world domination, as ridiculous as that sounded!

Even as the two dealt with their shock, Vergil stood aloof over the corpse of Wardes. The half-devil familiar didn't seem at all disturbed by the carnage that desecrated the chapel…which wasn't all too surprising given what Louise had seen of his past. Especially the most recent one…

"Are you alright?" Vergil shook Louise lightly, enough to get her out of the shocked trance and answer.

"Y-yeah…I'm…I'm fine…" Louise lied. Vergil gave what passed for a concerned glance from him before nodding and reaching down, grabbing Wardes' corpse by the leg and dragging it towards the center of the room. Wales and Louise followed him with their eyes, not comprehending what was going on as Gelus fetched Wardes' head and a few of the more intact corpses left by the Frosts. The Original Frost had pulled the red (and red-stained) carpet aside and was carving designs unlike any other Louise had seen into the stone with his talons. By the time Vergil reached it with Wardes' body, Louise could definitely tell it was a magic circle of some sort, but its purpose was definitely unclear to her…and Wales as well, judging by his perplexed expression.

Vergil unceremoniously tossed the headless corpse into the center of the growing carving, and when Gelus was done, the Frost rested the traitor's head in more-or-less its proper place. Then, casual as can be, the demon started lopping off body parts on the corpses he'd brought over and pouring the blood from the stumps into the carved magic circle. The two remaining humans gaped in horror and disgust as the circle became a bloody red imprint on the sacred floor of the chapel. Whatever the demon and half-devil were doing, it was a desecration of the chapel's sanctity.

Yet, neither could bring themselves to care too much about it. After all, the wedding-to-be was already perverted by Wardes' actions and intent. Surely Vergil couldn't do anything worse than that.

They were proven oh-so wrong when he began to chant. Foreign words the likes they'd never heard, never even conceived could exist, that warped and twisted the fabric of reality themselves in ways that were fouler than anything they'd witnessed, started spilling from Vergil's lips. The circle started to glow then, an ominous red from the blood before some sort of mist of blue energy emanated from Vergil and combined with the glow, creating an ominous purple color that started focusing on Wardes' body. The glowing mist surged into and through Wardes' body before rising and forming into a shape.

Louise and Wales gasped as what seemed to be Wardes' ghost coalesced before Vergil…with its head back on backwards.

"Gelus." Vergil sighed. "Correct his head." The Frost appeared sheepish as his talons reached out, gently clenched the corpse-Wardes' head and twisted it about to match the orientation of his body, the ghost-Wardes' head matching it to face Vergil.

"What is this!" The spirit thundered. "What have you done to me devil!" Wardes' voice was different. It still had the same tone, same sound, but it was something that was felt rather than heard, almost…resonating, within the listeners.

"Quite simply, I've summoned your soul from the afterlife." Vergil succinctly explained. "I wasn't sure it would work, considering that I've yet to see the cycle of this world's afterlife, but it seems to be similar enough in principle to allow me to use the Sorcery necessary. Now, I believe you have some questions to answer."

"And what makes you think I will give you anything? You killed me!" Wardes growled, fixing Vergil with a glare that would have been frightening in life, but was absolutely horrible in his present circumstances. Vergil only replied with a chuckle, and then stabbed the Spear of Destruction into the corpse-Wardes' leg. Flames sprouted out of the same leg on the ghost-Wardes, ethereally burning the limb in what was obviously an agonizing experience from the way he reacted. Which, simply, was screaming and twisting around in mid-air.

"I believe that example should suffice." Vergil actually had a bit of a light-hearted undertone to his normally neutral voice, something that actually made the whole situation even worse. Whatever it was, it caused Wardes, a man who in life had been trained to resist magical and non-magical interrogation, to immediately nod in agreement. "Good. Now, who were you working for?"

"Reconquista." Wardes replied immediately, eyeing the Spear of Destruction. "An organization that feels that the rulers of the kingdoms are weak, and wish to conquer all of them to in turn use their combined armies to regain the Holy Land from the elves."

"Oooh, a Crusade!" The Spear of Destruction reverberated, somehow speaking. "I love when humans Crusade!"

"You've obviously never experienced a World War." And now, the gauntlets were speaking.

"I now know how Dante felt when he had Agni and Rudra." Vergil said. "And when did you guys learn how to speak?"

"Spend a few decades as a weapon being man-handled by every incompetent mortal, and see how long you last without wanting to figure out a way to yell at them." The Spear growled. "As for her…well, she stole the technique from me."

"Why didn't you just eat them?"

"How do you think I got locked in that vault?"

"Shut up." Vergil hissed. "Now, Wardes, was that you with Fouquet in the hotel?"

"Yes."

"W-w-wait a minute!" Louise interrupted. "How can that be? You were with us when the bandits were attacking the inn!"

"I used a spell to create a clone." Wardes explained grudgingly. "A triangle-level wind spell, Lightning Clone, which allowed me to both direct Fouquet and appear with Louise and the others to cement my alibi."

"Clever." Vergil approved. "A pity you ruined all that effort with your impatience here." Both Wardes' ghost and the two Halkeginian nobles looked rather askance at that. "What were your plans here?"

"I was to kill Wales and retrieve the letter that Henrietta sent to him." Wardes said. "Thereafter, I would sabotage the defenses; kill as many of the Royalist's mages as possible and take control of the gates with the other infiltrators, letting in the Reconquista army outside."

"That seems simple enough." Vergil mused. "And it explains why they've been sending off a part of their forces."

"What?" Wales asked, a little confused.

"Gelus reported back an hour ago from his scouting of the rebel army." Vergil explained. "They were splitting off large parts of their forces and sending them away. Something I find incredibly foolish given a few of their number are already deserting. Perhaps you could explain why, Wardes." The ghost of the traitor hesitated momentarily, at least until Vergil raised the Spear again and motioned as though to stab Wardes' corpse again. The ghost flinched, and started spouting his answer.

"We believed that the defenders would be too disorganized over Wales' death, that it would be easy to overwhelm them even with diminished numbers once their mages and commanders were disposed of." The spirit gritted out. "In the interest of time and preparation, Reconquista's leaders decided to send some of the army off to secure the rest of Albion in preparation for the next phase of the plan."

"And that is?" Vergil demanded coolly.

"The conquest of Tristain." This response drew a gasp from Louise and Wales, while Vergil merely nodded.

"And thus do the pieces fall into place." He muttered.

"If I have satisfied you, then release me from this spell!" Wardes thundered, his ghostly form wavering.

"Oh no, no…you don't get off that easy." Vergil said, with a cruel smirk. Stepping forward and into the circle, he stabbed the Spear into the heart of the corpse-Wardes. Ethereal flames sprung back into existence, this time completely engulfing the ghost-Wardes, even as the Spear ignited the corpse-Wardes in bloody red fire. The screams were too horrible to describe, and thankfully faded with the ghost as the corpse was rendered into a very fine black ash. "Make it last. Make him suffer." Vergil ordered tersely, before the spear dissolved into embers and the gauntlets and greaves vanished in small flurries of frost, leaving Derflinger in the half-devil's left hand.

The two Halkeginians would have stood there agape for a long time, except that Vergil had other plans.

"Come." He ordered, walking to the chapel doors, scattering Wardes' ashes as he did.

– The Doomed –

Newcastle Gates
Dusk

The Reconquista Army was nervous.

One wouldn't know it by studying their mage-commanders, each and every one from the square-class General to the dot-class Lieutenants boasting about their impending victory over the too-trusting, foolish Royalists. They were blinded by their ego and self-assured greatness, though, not like the commoner masses that they had roped into their little gambit. The normal soldiers, with their shields and swords and spears, had already been nervous when they had an entire army with them, something all too logical given the complete devastation that had been visited upon a select division of their comrades. Now though, with a great number of them sent away to other parts of the nation, they were to the point some of them had wished they had brown trousers to hide the coming stains.

The mages were boasting about their leader's ingenuity, managing to hide agents in Newcastle. That really didn't matter for the rank-and-file though, since either way they were going to be pushed into the fray as fodder one way or another.

Then, it started.

Newcastle's gates groaned, opening. The mage-commanders grew ecstatic, ordering their troops forward. The troops never did carry out that command.

Mainly because, as soon as the gates were cracked open, a spear launched out from behind the doors, turned into some sort of magical missile that exploded into an inferno the moment it landed amongst the ranks, immolating them and outright converting the closest into ash that was soon enough fused into an unsettling black glass. Quite naturally, given the circumstances, the army dissolved into chaos. The mages attempted to restore order, but that effort was quickly curtailed the moment one of the triangle-class mages were impaled by an enormous icicle, that came from behind the army.

Creatures of nightmarish ice bolted through the army, slaughtering soldiers left and right as they headed for their true targets, the mages and commanders of the army. The mages were slow to react, mainly because the creatures were so fast, and never approached a single mage with less than three of them attacking from different directions. The situation became even worse once enormous winged versions of the beasts began to attack from the air!

It was virtually impossible for the mages to counterattack. If they focused in any one direction, the creatures in the other directions struck faster than snakes, killing the mage and then darting away to regroup and target another mage. Altogether, this meant the Reconquista army was completely unprepared when Newcastle's gates were wide-open, allowing the Royalists' forces to attack. Their mages led with spells of fire, wind, water and earth that devastated the ranks before their own commoner troops surged forward. Leading the mundane soldiers was a tall pale man with white hair, dressed in a brilliant blue coat with armor on his limbs. He wielded a sword, shining bright even as it was covered in the blood of men. This man displayed abilities beyond any mage they had seen in the command of ice. Icicles shot from his gauntlets and whenever he stomped, he flash-froze the feet of the men around him to the ground, making them easy pickings for the Royalists.

It didn't take long for the survivors of the previous day's assault to recognize him and the Demons he led, for them to break and flee en masse. Soon enough, the Reconquista's army was split apart, creating a corridor through which many trapped in Newcastle escaped.

When that crowd left, however, so too did the Demons. Without them harrying the surviving mages and instilling terror in the commoners, the remaining officers restored control, and met the Royalists' remaining troops man-to-man. Slowly, the Royalist forces where whittled down, until they fell in a last stand that would be worthy of the legends, if Reconquista ever let out the events of the day.

They wouldn't realize it for days afterward, but neither the blue-coated man nor the Prince they had fought to see slain was among the fallen Royalists.

Sorcery File: Summon Spirit

One of the most reviled and evil spells in all of history, Summon Spirit has existed in one form or another practically since Hell and Earth interacted. While the specific objective of the spell has varied in its many forms, the general remains the same: to summon the soul of someone who has died. The basic requirements for the spell are simple, a summoning circle typical for a low-level spiritual entity and a part of the person intended for summoning as a reagent, as well of course the Infernal Energy needed to power the spell. Generally, its better if the person is freshly dead, as the state and coherency of the soul tends to decrease after cessation of life, albeit for unknown reasons considering that no one really knows anything of the afterlife beyond the ultimate destinations. The use of the spell differs depending on the culture of the caster, for example, in some South American and African cultures, the spell is used as part of an empowerment ritual that generally relies on consumption of the reagent, while in mainland Europe it was used more to question the summoned soul for information.

– The Author –

Right, well, sorry about that Omake, but I just wanted you guys to know I wasn't dead, just occupied by other matters. To make clear Wardes fate right now, he's pretty much Abaddon and Zima's plaything, probably for the next hundred years or so.

Today, I gotta say I'm really looking forward to the launch of Gundam AGE. It may be kiddy, but I'll be happy even so. Maybe it'll break me out of this writer's block I have with Killer's Realm and The Demon and The Dragon.

Review Replies:

pyromania101: No, it's not a preview. I was just reading around the Fate/Stay Night crossovers, and I came across this amusing little one-shot that replaced the LOTR characters with FSN ones…you know what, I'll just post it.
Disclaimer: The following is an excerpt from Faker of the Rings, by Arashi Leonhart

Shirou: I will take it! I will take the Ring to Mount Enzou I mean Mount Doom. Though...I do not know the way.

Rin: I will help you on this task, Shirou Emiya, for as long as it is yours to bear.

Saber: By my life or death I could protect you...I will. You have my sword.

Archer: And you have my bow.

Lancer: And my lance.

Archer: And my sword. And my other sword. And my axe. And my dagger. And my spear. And my other sword. And—

*Lancer glares*

So yeah, I just had to work in how that scene would be with Dante. The guy just has so many weapons!

Orchamus: Heh, sorry.

critic:…Ok? Thank you?

Lunatic Pandora1: I know right? The dude's a complete asshole.

The Fanfic Stealer: It does huh? I don't think it would be serious at all, considering how much of a curbstomp Dante would be, he'd just be cracking jokes the whole time, from the Balor fight, all the way to the Black Gate and the giant trolls.

ghoohg: It would, but I have enough of them going right now.

Techpriest of Tzeentch: Hey don't blame me, it was all Vergil!

Alright, now just before I finish, I want to leave a little idea for any other writers who read this to try: What if…Louise summoned…Jackie Estacado?

Think about it.

Knightmare Gundam of Ni