The Eternal Dance of Light and Dark

by The King of Ravens

Having just survived a nine year long civil war, those of Lucael would be forgiven for entertaining the notion of peace. However, new threats are rising, and as the son of the king, it is Caiellis's job to combat them, despite his youth. But as the leaders of a rival nation declare war and mysterious figures pull strings in the shadows, Cai will be drawn into the fate of the world.

44. Moonlit Ambush

So, I finally managed to get this near unworkable chapter finished and done. I would explain all of my reasons for it taking over two months to complete, but honestly I don't have the time right now, nor the inclination to bore you with them.

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Ilentia's eyes snapped open from her sleepless slumber, the red orbs in her head instantly adjusting to viewing the world beyond the darkness of her eyelids, and she sat up in the tavern bed that she had been staying in. Ilentia had, whilst wearing her mask and ensuring that the lighting of the ceiling prevented the owner of the small business from seeing the colour of her eyes, paid for the room discreetly with money that she had stolen from a citizen of Kalaan that she had murdered and pillaged the corpse of.

In any other nation, the owner of the tavern made for visitors of the eastern city might have refused her commerce and insisted that she show her face before allowing her to purchase a room with the limited funds that she had acquired, but within Welkas unless the order of things would change with the swift dissolution of the Orders of Passion only the money mattered to the owners of the businesses within the New Empire of Passion (if the name was to be kept when the official ending of the Orders synonymous with it occurred), not the identity of their customers.

That had allowed her to get away with renting the dingy room out with the money she had obtained without any of those within the dilapidated reception of the hotel recognising her – as Ilentia had been a very influential figure in the Orders of Passion due to her role as the Master of Gluttony, and her success at crushing the resistance to the Orders of Passion within Usnaan and Iesaan had been highly publicised and spoken of throughout the Empire, although the news that was proclaimed loudly by the representations of the Orders and the upper classes of the several cities and large towns within the mostly desert or steppe nation of Welkas was a largely propagandised and romanticised version showing her as a hero of freedom slaughtering those who would dare to challenge the sovereignty of the Orders of Passion and the values of unrestrained excess that they imposed upon the nation.

She sat up in the bed, tensing and releasing the muscles of her limbs so that the energy would get back into them; in order for her blood to begin to flow at an optimum rate again and to ensure that she would not cramp after the hours of inactivity as she fought her greater demon in her Mind Realm. Ilentia stood up out of the bed, adjusting the mask that she had ripped the colours and parts of the design off of to fully safeguard her identity against any that might have seen her with it on even if such a thing was quite far-fetched and there was more of a chance of people recognising her from her distinctive defiant red eyes than the mask she had worn at formal occasions when attending the Archlord of Rapture's ridiculous parties – although at least if she did not allow anyone to catch a good glimpse of them she could be passed off as a simple pyromancer, as red eyes were common within such a breed of mages to match the fiery colour of mana that they wielded.

The fact that her own eyes were far more bloody and filled with dark power than any conventional pyromancer did not mean much if she moved quickly and efficiently throughout the city. Her gaze instantly flicked to the rotting wood of the door, noting that it was in the exact same position as before so no opportunistic individual had attempted to steal from her or kill her whilst she had been in the vulnerable position of bringing her resident Summoning back under control once again, and although she had not expected that the dubious nature of the tavern she had especially chosen so that she could keep out of the central city and the higher regions of Kalaan that she had descended from made her want to have precautionary methods in place – as she did not trust the faulty lock of the door which hadn't caught at all when she tried it.

Ilentia undid the crude enchantments that she had woven into the door, a the sigil of a seal of inhibited fire that would have detonated in a blisteringly hot inferno, incinerating all within a five metre radius had anyone touched the door to her dismal room, faded, the mana imbued into it returning to her in a flash of crimson, although for a moment Ilentia was tempted to leave it upon the door so that the next person to have the room would instantly be enveloped in a rush of flames.

No, that was completely ridiculous – as there was no use in leaving tracks for others to follow when she wished to remain as inconspicuous as possible until she had decided upon where to go next.

Besides, she had anticipated correctly that none of the other rather unsavoury (although who was she to judge?) customers of the lodge at the south of the city had wanted anything to do with her, as despite the fact that she had given away nothing of her personal identity or the position that she had held before the defence of Usnaan had been splintered by the hammer of the Lucaelian legions and the dark benefactors of Tradax had been slain by the incandescent angels of the Kingdom of Light, the Tempest of Craving rent out of the sky by a blast of combined radiance and Black mana that must have come from the youngest scion of the Lucerna family that Ilentia hadn't seen within the battle (to be more precise she hadn't laid eyes upon any of the hated royal family of their enemies) she had made the fact that she was a warrior abundantly clear by keeping her swords and their scabbards in full view from where they were strapped to her belt underneath drab and dull robes she had "liberated" from another citizen of Kalaan.

Knowing that there was no way of telling the precise time within the room that she had temporarily purchased from her prior inspection of it which had allowed her to ensure it was as safe as she was going to get before her inevitable confrontation with Arrapackxia could begin, Ilentia walked towards the window, the tattered curtain unable to fully conceal the broken glass behind it that blew in the cool wind of an otherwise humid and hot day. It had been late midday when she had entered the tavern, the sun still relatively high in the sky even though it was blocked out by some of the taller buildings that rose up from the centre of the large city (though even huge Kalaan was nothing compared to the sprawling, immense expanse that was Usnaan), but when she drew open the stained cloth that masqueraded as a makeshift curtain she was bathed in orange light from the setting sun.

It had taken her longer than expected to subdue her greater demon Summoning, in spite of the fact she was fully aware that time worked differently within the Mind Realm to the natural progression of it in reality when one was not intoxicated by narcotics, stimulants or hallucinogenics or filled with adrenaline and that sometimes in her previous life as Guena she had spent only minutes within the territory of her psyche which had felt like days in the lair of the cyclops which had been sacrificed for Arrapackxia's blighted blessing. Ilentia turned, closing the battered curtain which was blemished by some questionable substances (much like the thin mattress and quilt of the bed she had sat in for her venture within herself was also) and quickly making sure that she still had everything that she had entered the room with.

Satisfied, she exited the darkened room that she had only stayed in for a few hours – as Ilentia had only purchased it for one night to conserve funds – and entered an equally drab corridor that she quickly crossed, descending the half rotted staircase and elegantly shifting past a gruff looking man who was ascending at the same time, her sinuous and predatory movements indicating that she was a warrior to all who knew those things and ensuring that none of them would attempt to hinder her or get in her way. Of course, she would reduce the amount that she did it significantly when she entered the outer city, as while Ilentia still intended to give off the impression that she could easily protect herself the movements of an expert warrior could bring more attention than ward it off.

Flashing a short glance at the owner of the tavern, her laconic nature asserting itself as she decided to speak no words, Ilentia exited the run down reception and slid into the alleyway that she had chosen at random to walk down, trusting her instincts to lead her to somewhere to stay so that she had been able to confront the growing itch inside of her head which had abated now that Arrapackxia was back under her control. The demon's final words to her played over in her mind, and as she traversed the tight space between ramshackle buildings on the outer edges of the centre of the large city she examined every opening and scrutinised every shaded individual that passed by her, analysing them in order to make sure that they were not the danger that the Summoning which had been bound to her had warned her about.

Although it was entirely possible that Arrapackxia had simply lied to her to fuel the fires of paranoia within her, Ilentia knew just from the way that her greater demon had uttered the words with a mixture of begrudging subservience (it would never get anywhere near respect and Ilentia did not care about that at all) and sadistic glee in her predicament that it had been telling the truth and had revelled in that fact. She crossed the alleyways, half intending to stay within the shadows so that the danger that her demon had spoken of could not find her, but a niggling formication at the back of her mind altered her that whatever was coming would not be dissuaded by hiding away in the dark corners of Kalaan. Instead, even though it was far more dangerous, she would go into the light and near the centre of the large city, as not only would she be able to get to know more of her bearings there and potentially scout out the source of the notification her personal demon had given her, it was the main place where she would be able to appropriate a means of leaving the city even though she intended to avoid whatever limited public transport still remained after the uproar of the war and the turmoil the New Empire of Passion had been subjected to the past few days.

Being in the far east of the Empire, the influence of the Orders of Passion which had originally been quite strong within the eastern city had waned as the war with the Kingdom of Light intensified and resources had been gradually drawn from the east to support the west and the borders with a sanctimoniously angry Lucael to help both stem and channel the ire of the angel-worshipping nation.

However, even as the Resistance within the city had slowly yet exponentially grew as more and more became dissatisfied with the Orders of Passion and their stranglehold upon the Empire that had been named after them (as it had simply been called the New Empire of Welkas by the Protector Jarred Redhand after the liberation of Welkas) and the slaying of the deliciously ironically named Last Tyrant and more and more people secretly pledged their allegiance to clandestine cells of the Ja'an Guard, promising their aid to the Resistance if the time came that there would be another uprising against those who had taken power for themselves, Kalaan was the centre of commerce in the east of the Empire and as such was had been relatively highly fortified when compared to other cities and large fortresses in the area that had been stripped of soldiers and defences in order to protect and reinforce Usnaan so that the invasive force from the kingdom to the west could be rebuffed and that victory capitalised upon.

Tradax had banked all of his resources and power in securing a victory within the City of Pleasure, and now it was showing in the way that the New Empire of Passion and the hierarchies of power synonymous with it were collapsing in on themselves, falling to the pressure from below and crumbling now that there was no centre of power and gravity bringing them together.

Ilentia knew that her former master wouldn't particularly care, especially now that he was dead, and assumed that he had abandoned an entire half of the Welkalite territories for any prospective invaders to claim as their own (although none had as the east of the nation shared borders with the usually peaceful Yentarian Republic which had declined to utilise the opportunity presented to them by the late Archlord of Rapture to conquer more territory and expand their Republic and other "nations" too small and pitiful to even mention or be considered powers of the known world) because all of his personal strategies to obtain more power and influence and to increase the number of those that were in thrall to him had been hinged upon slaying the Lucaelian invaders, their precious Lucerna family and using that to attack the heavily weakened Kingdom of Light so that he could enter the infamous darkness of that nation and interact more closely with his demonic patrons.

Ilentia did not know for certain, nor did she pay any heed to what the plans of her now dead commander had been, but it was clear for all to see that such a gambit had not paid off and the shattered remnants of the Orders of Passion were paying for it now as they were ripped to shreds by the voracious desires of a people that demanded more and would go to great lengths to get it.

Ilentia did not think badly of them for it at all; she would do the same if she was in a similar position to civilians who had been oppressed by an autocratic lineage of pure bred tyrants and then exploited and hegemonized by those who had succeeded them after many promises of freedom for all, but it made it incredibly dangerous for herself as she was a part of the old ruling class that had been almost fully destroyed by the war with enemies that they had not been able to slaughter or even emerge triumphant against once, and now that the Orders of Passion were no longer in a position of any meaningful power as those last dregs of the once empire-spanning dominance were in the process of being torn down by those tired of ceaseless exploitation and greed being the Master of Gluttony meant that there was a price upon her head that many would be willing to risk their lives to acquire – which was why it was necessary to keep incognito.

Two days ago, when the battle of Usnaan had been lost against the implacable and incandescent war machine of the Kingdom of Light, Ilentia had been transported to a dark room within the underground chambers of a mansion in the nexus of pleasure and debauchery within Kalaan by the device that Eras Stormwind had given her at the dawn of that fateful day. Ilentia had waited for just more than an hour, content to bide her time and rejuvenate some of her power that had been expended due to the battle as well as quell the frustrated roars of the demon inside of her mind as it howled in frustration and tainted rage at her escape so loudly the noises had echoed inside of her skill and almost brought her to her knees, but the Master of Wealth had never arrived.

This had led to her to the conclusion that Eras was dead, something that she did not have much of an opinion on as while she had found the boy completely insufferable to the point where she had often contemplated ripping his throat out the nineteen year old had clearly had a plan for securing his power within the Empire and using the failure of the armies at Usnaan in stopping the Lucaelian advance (which, barring a few assaults of the fortresses and towns relatively close to the City of Pleasure, had stopped as presumably a deal was being negotiated between the Lucaelians and the leaders of the Ja'an Guard) to further his own ends, and Ilentia would have been intrigued to see what part she would have had to play in that scheme and what benefits she might have been able to reap from it.

However, she couldn't say that she felt sympathetic for the youth in the slightest, and had resolved to continue on her way without him or his machinations that meant nothing to her, deciding to find somewhere suitable to stay to both avoid the uproar of the battle for the capital of the empire and to tackle the menace of the demon within her, which is what had led her to the tavern on the outskirts of the central region of the city after she had progressed through the streets of it and laid low through the violence which had swept Kalaan up as the Resistance struck against the last remaining strongholds of the Orders of Passion (predominantly the Order of Wealth as the eastern city was a centre of commerce and a bastion lead by a governor from that avaricious fellowship which had lost its Master within the bloodshed in the titanic capital city, although of course portions from all four orders had been present in large numbers).

Unlike in other, weaker cities that had been overrun by the Resistance when the forces had been drained from the east (such as the city of Ja'an itself which was the main force of the rebellion against the dictatorial Orders of Passion and had declared its independence and subsequent secession from the New Empire of Passion barely days after war had been declared by the Kingdom of Light and before any Lucaelian armies had even entered Welkas, led by the venerable but apparently charismatic Lady Ullfaer who had fought in Redhand's revolution), the ruler of Kalaan, a greedy and imperious woman by the name of Carlyia Bloodfang (so named for her obsession with drinking blood in a variety of different forms) who had overseen the entirety of the eastern Empire, had kept a tight hold upon her main territory in lieu of spreading out her forces in an attempt to reinforce those leaders of cities rife with civil war, ensuring that Kalaan stayed loyal to the Orders of Passion whilst all around it was swept up in a sea of dissension and revolution.

Bloodfang was a brutal tyrant of a governor who had ensured that the slaves within the city had kept up their quota of production for weaponry, armour and food for the armies up to standard by savagely and painfully executing all that did not comply with her exacting standards; the displays made out of those who had failed to please the Marshal of the East had still been fresh and rotting all across the city when Ilentia had first arrived and many had yet to be taken down by the new order which had overthrown the last remnants of the New Empire of Passion present in this stronghold of the east.

She had made sure that her elite cadre of personal Enforcers had constantly purged as many as possible obvious and visible signs of dissent, attempting to systematically eliminate all those that would attempt to overthrow her grip of power upon Kalaan, but it was impossible to utterly eradicate all traces of strife and deep-rooted resentment of tyrants from the eastern city with the limited forces that she had at her disposal.

Ilentia had never seen the woman before, but she had heard of Bloodfang's exploits from some of those in her own now obliterated Order of Gluttony and had listened to Tradax talking about her before – as apparently Carlyia was distantly related to the late Archlord of Rapture, a factor which had not aided in securing her power whatsoever as Ilentia's former commander had no knowledge of this before she wrestled control of Kalaan from the former Marshal of the East, capitalising on the sudden ascension of Tradax Yulica, Ershun Firefist and Arendus Draal to gain a position of influence in her own sectors of the Empire by slaying the one who had inhabited the role before her.

However, because she had not been a Master of Passion and simply a military leader and region governor Bloodfang had not been given the opportunity to trade in her Summoning of a flaming phoenix for a greater demon and therefore access Black mana as well as her natural Red magic, which had most likely been the fault of Tradax's paranoia over being betrayed and turned against by his generals and the other high ranking figures of the New Empire of Passion (just as he had back stabbed his own former master to gain his power, so to was he afraid of others doing the same to him – and rightly so), making her less powerful than she potentially could have been and clearly stating that she was worth less to the man who was in charge of Welkas than those who lead the Orders of Passion like himself.

Ilentia had slowly traversed the city, sharply aware just from the feeling of tension and barely repressed violence throughout Kalaan that the eastern city would soon explode into brutality between those who supported the Orders of Passion and those who either intended to back up the Resistance or simply rebel against the old hierarchies without choosing the side of the Ja'an Guard.

Ilentia had at first wondered whether or not she should announce her presence to Bloodfang by travelling to the central municipal building that also functioned as the Marshal's personal palace, the decadent temple to carnality that was built upon its own small island in the centre of a boiling lake at the heart of the eastern city.

She could have asserted her dominance over the city (whether or not Carlyia would have acquiesced to that without physical force being required was debatable) as one of the four main Masters of Passion and declared that there would be a new mustering in the east to reclaim the empire from the rebels that swarmed like desert vultures did to the carrion corpses of those who set out into the sand swept steppes, proclaiming herself as the new de facto leader of the empire, but Ilentia had no desire for sovereignty over Welkas nor any particular want to insert herself into the power vacuum that had been ripped open at the top of the chain of command by the annihilation of the New Empire of Passion's leader.

Instead Ilentia had chosen to watch and wait, deal with her own personal problems and conceal herself and her whereabouts away from prying eyes to avoid making herself even more of a target in the mind of the Resistance leaders – as, unless the Lucaelians who had personally fought her had spoken with the envoys which must have been sent from the Ja'an Guard to negotiate the surrender of Welkas with them or told those who had that the Master of Gluttony had escaped the city alive, no one else in the nation would know anything as to her fate, meaning that it was generally assumed that she had died within the near destroyed City of Pleasure, which was exactly how she wanted to keep it.

There had been numerous news reports flitting in of the Empire being overwhelmed by forces of the exponentially growing Resistance which had taken this chance to finally rid themselves of the tyrannical Orders of Passion, but those who attempted to actively spread the information and make the knowledge that was much more tangible than the rumours of others who had entered the city after fleeing from from the revolting territories of the collapsing Empire more widely known had been swiftly and mercilessly culled. Carlyia had imposed strict borders upon her city, locking it up and going into a state of martial law and preventing as many from entering or leaving Kalaan as possible, spreading her Enforcers around the borders of the city and trying to keep her tight control of it that had been slipping away every second that no more reinforcements came from the wider nation which was dealing with its own problems.

It was a desperate tactic, Ilentia had sensed that even whilst not paying overt attention to the state of the city so long as it did not affect her, as the Marshal of the East had wanted to conserve as much power as possible and retain her seat of influence within a kingdom which no longer existed. Because of that, and the lack of safe places for a despotic ruler such as herself now that the Orders of Passion and their lackeys were fully exposed to the vengeance of those that they had exploited and oppressed for years of destructive and hedonistic revelry, Carlyia had not fled and abandoned the city as others had their own (a group which included Ilentia), instead fortifying her palace and the city surrounding it in an ultimately fruitless endeavour to try and weather the incoming storm of long awaited retribution.

However, in her attempts to close off the gates of the city which had left hundreds of refugees who simply wanted to be away from the violence and had flocked to one of the last remaining bastions of order within the New Empire of Passion stranded outside and without any food or water, Bloodfang had spread her Enforcers too thin. The day prior to this one, a force of warriors from the Ja'an Guard and the full Resistance had attacked the city at the same time as the cells of revolutionaries which had gone into deep concealment within the bowels of the eastern city rise up from underneath it and attacked the Enforcers from behind. The refugees, and those who had tired of the Orders' debauched reign already in Kalaan, had added the weight of their bodies to the attack, and the streets had ran red with human blood which still stained it now as Ilentia walked through them – although the amount of gore shed within the walls of Kalaan was nothing in comparison to the viscera which had drenched the City of Pleasure because of the carnal Tempest of Craving.

The fighting had been bloody and close, and from what Ilentia had seen as she made pains to avoid it and killed all those who came too close to her without revealing her presence in the city Carlyia's tactics had been effective in murdering many hundreds of Kalaan's besiegers, but the Enforcers simply did not have the numbers to ever prevail against the crushing amount of those who wanted Bloodfang removed from power. The battle had been a clash between the citizens of the New Empire of Passion who ached for freedom from the lashes, yokes and sybaritic dominion of their oppressors and the cornered rats of the Enforcers and remnants of the Orders of Passion who knew that there would be no forgiveness from an Empire now baying for their blood to be shed in the name of justice and liberty.

In a way, it was oddly and incredibly reminiscent of what Ilentia had heard of the fighting which had swept through the old Empire in Jarred Redhand's revolution (as she had still been an infantile toddler at the time), even though it was at a much smaller scale and instead of the Ja'an Guard (or the Resistance, however one wanted to call it – it was irrelevant to Ilentia) battling against the full might of the advanced and disciplined military of the royal family they were battling against those who had aided them in the fight against the dictatorial emperor of the past and the descendent of those revolutionaries who had become gluttons for the pleasure and the promise of dark ecstasy which had been denied to them by the inbred sovereigns of the Empire of Welkas – and it was on a much smaller (but still vast) scale as the capital of Usnaan had already been near annihilated by the Kingdom of Light which had not played any part in the previous and purely civil war.

If the Lucaelian legions had been the earthquake which had ripped through the New Empire of Passion and reduced all of its edifices to carnality and deprivation to dust, the defiance of the Ja'an Guard who still adhered to Redhand's utopian tenets of equality and freedom for all and the Resistance of the wider Welkas which had swept up around them was the aftershocks killing those who had survived that first monumental disaster.

In Ilentia's mind the Resistance did not deserve any credit for what had happened to the Orders of Passion, and that the Lucaelian legions should have pushed further into the Empire and claimed it for themselves instead of letting it remain after simply obliterating the vast majority of Welkas's armies at Usnaan, but then she did not know the motives of the self-righteous warriors from the Kingdom of Light nor what their sanctimonious royal family of Lucernas would have them do, and she assumed that merely reaping revenge for the abduction of their precious young princes (who should never have been allowed to escape in the first place, something that would have undoubtedly led to the victory of Welkas and the completion of Tradax's schemes when one considered who had slain the godlike demon that the Archlord of Rapture had died Summoning), avenging the deaths and enslavement of those who had been claimed in the Empire's perpetual raids into the darkness of Lucael and thus preventing further banditry and lastly removing the foothold the demonic enemies of the Lucaelian angels that they worshipped as gods was enough for the Kingdom of Light and the Lucaelians had no interest in their desert territories (though the west of the New Empire of Passion was composed of more dusty steppes and rocky mountains than the seas of sand and arid savannahs in the east).

Carlyia, in lieu of joining the fighting and leading from the front, had remained within her own personal residence which was highly fortified against attack and at the centre of the steaming oasis within the dry wilderness on which Kalaan had been built, with the Enforcers that had fled to there rallying around her elite troops as the rest of the city was overcome around them. Despite herself and her desire for caution and to remain unseen, Ilentia hadn't been able to resist the temptation to watch the battle unfold, so had observed the final moments outside of the opulent palace from a distance, though even with her vantage point she had not been able to view what had happened inside of it.

Bloodfang had originally tried to close off the entrances to her palace, forcing her warriors to raise the drawbridges to her own personal paradise of pleasure, but the weight of fleeing troops had prevented her from doing so and she had evidently decided against her first tactic of cutting those Enforcers who had been routed by the attacks in wider Kalaan when they tried to enter her final defence and instead chosen to welcome them in until the Resistance chose to attack – as brokering a surrender would have been impossible and only would have ended in her death or imprisonment, and she was too psychotic and prideful from what Ilentia had heard and seen from the way her Enforcers were positioned throughout the city to even consider it.

Had this battle taken place elsewhere in the world, either side could have burnt the bridges over the boiling lake around the Marshal's citadel – as the Resistance could have had the opportunity to consolidate their forces around it before finding a way to attack the palace without using the bridges (as with the amount of verdant growth within the gardens of the fortress and the vast supply of water meant that those who had stayed within it would not run out of sustenance unless either of those assets were destroyed, and if such a thing happened it was very likely that there was no way they could prevail in any case) or the Enforcers could have stopped them from entering for a prolonged amount of time until their own retreat could somehow be facilitated – but the fact that Kalaan was within Welkas, an Empire which had been founded upon Red mana and was filled with the most pyromancers than in any other part of the world, such vital pieces of equipment were enchanted with ancient protective wards which had been put in place by one of the old emperors who had utilised the palace as a traditional holiday home, and as such were near immune to fire.

Yes, they could have been incinerated after great expenditure of mana, as there was nothing that could stop the magic of fire in its most powerful forms, but such a thing was unnecessary when the citadel could be simply attacked from the front instead. Almost the same amount of the revolutionaries died in that final push into the heart of Bloodfang's dominion as had been claimed throughout the entire city, and only the copious amounts of Red mana that were released burning bodies and enemies to ashes prevented the drawbridges clogging up with bloody corpses, but eventually, with no small amount of sacrifice, the force from the outside managed to make a breach into the palace and swarm into it.

According to the boasts of the Resistance, the last confrontation had taken place within the large domed centre of the medium sized citadel, between Carlyia, her most elite praetorians and the ones at the forefront of the Ja'an Guard. Bloodfang, as befitting of her name, had reaped a significant tally amongst those who had tried to take her down, her phoenix's ability to be easily re-Summoned in a blast of scorching immolation proving to be pivotal in slaying many of her foes, but eventually she had been beaten and killed by a Welkalite who was only fifteen years of age when he had burnt her to smouldering ashes with his fire cat, solidifying the victory of the Resistance and making himself a hero in the eyes of the public for ending the Scourge of the East as she was now being called.

It was a new dawn for the Empire of Welkas, as while it was weaker than it had ever been – even when one considered the tumultuous aftermath of the Revolution orchestrated by Jarred Redhand had decimated the nation's defences and embroiled the civilisation in civil war, as the damage that the Kingdom of Light had done eclipsed that – the fact that an Empire might now be founded upon values of passion and individuality without obscene pleasure-seeking and depravity meant that it could end with much more strength than it had ever possessed. However, Ilentia was far more inclined to think that the nation would disintegrate without a strong leader or set of sovereigns, that the disparate and defiantly rebellious Welkalites needed to be kept in line by the grip of a powerful and merciless commander who did not tolerate dissent, and that bereft of that the Empire would cease to be one and would become more of a collective of different cities loosely connected to one another, that different sections of the Empire would split off from the main body of the nation and attempt to create their own status quo by rebelling.

There was a large space at the top of the Empire for a new leader to arise and bend the Welkalite people to their will once more, just as the Orders of Passion had done after the murder of Jarred Redhand's family and the Protector's sudden retreat into hiding and unreachability, and only time would tell if this revolution in the wake of the Lucaelian attack on Usnaan and the small territories blocking them off from it would serve to change Welkas significantly for the better of the general public like the first one should have or if it would simply open up the figurative throne for another to take the place of the tyrant holding the nation in line and brandishing their new Empire as a weapon to further their own goals.

Ilentia did not particularly care either way, even if some deep rooted part of her insisted that she should and that the fate of her nation should have been important in some manner to her, and as he walked through the streets of Kalaan she took a rare moment to ponder what Welkas was and what would happen to it now that the Orders of Passion had been fully destroyed.

After the defeat of the Enforcers within Kalaan, the army of Ja'an Guard and other revolutionaries had mostly left, though some almost negligible portions had remained to ensure that the city was kept safe from any potential assaults and to fully consolidate their victory here to tear down the idols and respective pleasure dens of the four different Orders of Passion and establish new buildings in their place (though that had not begun quite yet as far as Ilentia, who did not have access to the theoretical plans of the new rulers), ones that still venerated passion and individuality but not unrestrained excess, departing to presumably meet with the Lucaelian dignitaries and warrior still within Usnaan to negotiate the terms of the Empire's surrender – as despite how bloodied the army of the angel worshippers had been, with tens of thousands of casualties wreaked amongst them by the psychotic and bloodthirsty Welkalite forces and their unholy and carnage driven patrons, there was no way that with the armies that they had the Ja'an Guard would be able to continue the war against the might of the Lucaelian legions.

It was a simple logistical fact that negotiations were the only way forwards for the new leaders of the broken New Empire of Passion which had only lasted just more than two decades before being toppled once again, just like its predecessor which had remained for thousands of years before then due to the iron clad heel of the dragon wielding lineage of autocrats keeping their subjects under control, and now all that remained to be seen was what sort of deal – if any – would be brokered between the Lucaelian forces and the Resistance now that it would be interacting with them – although Ilentia knew that it had been the Resistance within Usnaan that had helped the young scions of the Lucerna family escape from the City of Pleasure and Tradax's clutches in the first place so they must have had some contact with the Kingdom of Light before.

Ilentia was still extremely alert and wary, the demon's proclamation that she was in danger ever echoing over and over again in her mind as she slipped through the shaded streets and alleyways of the section of Kalaan which she had stayed within when confronting Arrapackxia and forcing him under her dominion once more. She stepped out of a darkened passageway which had been free of all signs of life onto a long avenue that was central to the eastern city and bathed in the last dregs of wan orange light from the baleful sun setting in the horizon and sparing the land from more heat.

It was cool, the breezes of air that wafted over the very few areas of skin that Ilentia had left bare (which amounted to her shaded face, because even leaving her hands uncovered would show that they were extremely pale, noticeably and unnaturally so compared to how tanned those who had lived underneath the oppressive light of this nation were) refreshingly chilling, reminding the woman that it was still technically winter within the regions of Magnus-Primae, not that there was much difference within the Welkalite days of burning heat apart from the temperature being not quite as sweltering as it was in the days of summer where those without skin used to the burning illumination of the red eye of the sky had to cover it to avoid being immolated by the sheer intensity of the heated glare of the malicious, angry star.

However, what Ilentia had remembered was an impressive processional befitting of Kalaan's wealth that it had accumulated as the centre of commerce within the east (matched only in splendour by Usnaan of the west, the older twin's position as the capital city and the birthplace of the first emperor who shared Ilentia's name meaning that it was matched in size and majesty by no other dwellings within Welkas) had been reduced to rubble. The street was a shattered ruin, lined by the skeletal shells of some buildings that had been gutted by the violence that had taken place within the city. Debris was piled high, and the dead still littered the ground despite the battle having ceased over a day ago, heaped in gutters clogged and at the base of crumbling walls, though there were already several individuals searching the corpses for either their loved ones or relatives or to loot them for money, something that was generally frowned upon within Welkas and those that did still have a sense of honour but happened nonetheless.

A near all pervading stench hung in the humid yet cool air, rancid and foul like rotting meat (which it what it was, in essence), only mitigated by the gentle breeze which occasionally blew it into Ilentia's nostrils and made the demon inside of her hungry to cause more death and to feast upon the blood of humans, writhing excitedly within her before Ilentia quelled it with a mental impulse deep within her. Despite the fact that the devastation of Kalaan was not notable at all when one placed it alongside the slaughter within Usnaan, the effects of savage warfare were plain to see – once lush tree lined boulevards had been incinerated by the amount of Red mana released indiscriminately by both sides in their attempts to emerge victorious, the plants that could grow in Kalaan due to its situation upon a large, paradisical oasis within the deserts of the eastern Empire reduced to scorched rubble by the violence, and the orange skies were still filled with blackened soot, the residue of the battle which had occurred in this place.

There were many more Enforcer corpses than those of the Resistance or the civilians who had been caught in the collateral crossfire (even though she was sure that many in the Ja'an Guard would have tried to avoid using their most destructive spells in areas of a high innocent population the forces of Bloodfang had had no such compunctions), but that in itself did not signify anything relevant to the amount of casualties on each side in this area of the city as and equal number of both had been slain.

The only reason that less bodies belonging to members of the rebellion lay on the ground for the desert vultures to pick at was because of the fact that they had few who would take them away, no loved ones to retrieve their corpses for a proper funeral and none who would be seen associating with them still within the aftermath of the New Empire of Passion's dissolution – as while many within the Resistance would profess to be part of a new order that put the good of the people first, that did not mean that the humans that composed the revolutionary armies would behave any differently to what they normally did and any who were observed searching for familiar faces amongst the Enforcer bodies (most of which had been stripped of their armour and weapons and lay face down in the dust and sand) would undoubtedly be persecuted by the victors of this conflict and would be putting themselves in danger.

Ilentia avoided eye contact with those who glanced in her direction, the mask which she wore that had been scraped free of all iconography and colour which would suggest that it belonged to a noble able to afford such fine dyes and exquisite carvings (at least in the words of the one who had had the mask fashioned for her, one of her former subjects within the Order of Gluttony which she had not been fit for leading at all, something she had begrudging acceded to as at the time she had not wanted to disobey Tradax's orders at all, even ones as minor as wearing a mask to his Address in the central Tower of Ecstasy which had been where Eras Stormwind would have met his end, assuming that he had remained within the place that he had stationed himself and his most loyal troops) concealing her face and preventing any humans, even those assassins well versed in the masks worn by the Welkalite nobles from identifying her.

The architecture of Kalaan was unique and markedly different from that of Usnaan, the city of Ilentia's birth and one that she had never left before the altercation which had led to her becoming the Master of Gluttony, as long ago it had been part of an eastern nation separate from the small kingdom that Welkas was an as such developed its own culture and style of building. It had been a medium sized empire from what Ilentia had once been told in the past as a young child back when she had more of a pleasure for spending time within the stories some of the older people had told her. However, not long after the full empire had been established by the first empress Kalaan had been besieged and conquered along with many other cities after a great war which spanned several years between both sides until the might of the dragon tyrant prevailed over the eastern leaders and their fiery efreets. Although that had taken place over a thousand years ago, some of the ancient architecture of that old culture could be perceived within the buildings of Kalaan.

Situated to the south of some portions of the Yentarian Republic and to the west of the large and viridescent jungles that were home to a few tribes of people that occasionally interacted with the Welkalites and were combined into a collective nation too small to register as one of the four major powers of the world (although if they had been located within the Deep Forest of the Erian Conclave Ilentia knew that they would have been considered part of that mysterious and secluded nation of forest dwellers, even though the woman did not know enough information about either to be able to ascertain whether or not their cultures were similar or not, or if the Kalasang Jungle was associated with the same tenets of Green mana as the much larger forest to the south west of the super-continent on which the four nations resided) which had occasionally attempted to raid the Welkalite residence with armies of beasts formed from Red and Green mana (with the courtesy returned by roving bands of Welkalite warriors striking with brutal retaliation into the known locations of settlements within the forest), Kalaan was a heavily fortified city that thrived upon the veins of rare but volatile minerals with mana augmenting properties present within the nearby Kalasang Jungle.

In addition to those deposits of crystal that could massively enhance the destructive capabilities of mages wielding them (although it also made their spells more dangerous, and reputedly Bloodfang had worn one as a necklace that would improve the power of her Red mana) the city often harvested trees from the nearby jungles which were not accessible anywhere else but the far west (and those from the Erian Conclave were harder to raid and obtain from because the forest dwellers were so protective of their nature reserves, with the territories of the Conclave also much more perilous due to the greater connection with Green mana and the many dangerous Unbound creatures that roamed freely within that realm in a much greater frequency than the Kalasang Jungle), allowing the construction of fortifications and the making of weapons across the New Empire of Passion and thus bringing in huge amounts of wealth to the opulent centre of the city and solidifying the position of the Order of Wealth and the city's own version of Usnaan's Augur's Quarter within Kalaan.

The city, being located upon an oasis within the desert lands, also had an easy supply of fresh water from the streams that ran through the whole settlement and the large river that bisected Kalaan and made it so that there was a huge lake in the centre of it where Carlyia's palace had once stood before it had been ravaged by the violence and was in the process of being converted into a new governing centre.

Ilentia strode through the streets, intending to locate some form of functioning transport so that she could leave the city and possibly even the New Empire of Passion in this time of great turmoil so that she could escape from still being a potential target and make her own path through the world. Even as she remained alert for any enemies that might cross her route and with all of her senses which were attuned to discerning the presence of enemies strained to their maximum output the woman still devoted some mind power to considering her potential options for travelling away from Kalaan and where she could be taken from the eastern city by what little transport would be available.

Ilentia was still unsure where she would be going, her severely lacklustre knowledge of other cultures and civilisations as well as general world geography heavily compounding such a decision – the extent of what she had been told by others and what little she had seen from herself from those who had entered the New Empire of Passion and belonged to other nationalities was that they did not thrive upon violence and fevered rage like the Welkalites themselves, meaning that there would be much more stagnation within their cultures and that their orders and hierarchies that govern their society would have been in place for a significantly longer length of time that the ones that had recently been torn down within Welkas.

Maybe Ilentia should stay within whatever the New Empire of Passion was about to metamorphose into, as despite the fact that the Orders of Passion synonymous with the aforementioned nation had been almost utterly destroyed (and certainly decimated enough to the point that they would have no more influence upon the Red mana based kingdom) the overall philosophies of the Empire would not change to a great degree, even if not as many individuals would be exploited by a tyrannical circle of rulers and they would not longer venerate carnal debauchery.

However, as the Master of Gluttony (irrespective of whether or not the role truly still existed) Ilentia was reviled across the nation and would be a target for those who either wished to exact vengeance for the lives she had ended within the Resistance or bounty hunters that wanted to claim a most likely quite substantial sum of money as a reward for hunting her down in she was ever sighted. Furthermore, the fact that Ilentia unfortunately had a quite a distinctive and recognisable appearance meant that if she was spotted or even glimpsed by anyone that knew the slightest bit about her she would be declared alive and a threat to the new order. That meant that she could not stay within Welkas without a significant disguise, and currently she was not in the mindset to want to be at a constant risk of discovery and assault from those who despised what she had represented in the past.

But with Welkas, the place that would have been the best for allowing her to remain within, somewhere that she could not stay, Ilentia was unfortunately forced into considering other options for her future as there was nothing much to be gained within Kalaan at the current moment and the barbaric but unrestrained civilisation she had been born within too dangerous to her at the present point in time, too close after the dissolution of the Orders of Passion for her not to become an immediate target if her presence was ever revealed.

Lucael was obviously off limits, as for one the mostly insular and xenophobic residents of the Kingdom of Light would never permit a total stranger entering within the borders of their darkened nation and secondly as soon as she revealed that she was in fact a Welkalite and had obvious signs of inner taint and corruption she would be targeted and captured by all those who reviled the demons of Sancturia (which was all of those who belonged to that nationality). Besides, even if Ilentia had been able to stride through the cities of Lucael with impunity she was unsure that she was even inclined to do so due to how dour and religious the place would indubitably be considering what she had seen of the stern and pale people so far, and the only possible reason that travelling there would appeal to her was to kill some of the self-righteous fools that wasted their lives in the service to a royal family enslaved by angels that managed to be even more sanctimonious than the insufferable Lucaelians themselves.

That left only Eria and Yentar open to the woman who had only recently held the title of Master of Gluttony, and neither of them seemed particularly enticing to her considering what little she knew of their societies. Firstly, whilst the former could have allowed her to enter into the Deep Forest and never been seen by another human again Ilentia wasn't exactly partial to the idea of walking head first into a place that she had never visited for and becoming the meal of a dangerous Unbound predator despite how tempting it was to attempt to bring the beasts under her command or to dominate one of the many tribes scattered throughout the domain of nature lovers.

Besides, in spite of the fact that she was certainly quite an adept fighter she had no idea whether or not she would be able to stand against the overpowering might of the fauna (or even the flora, as when Guena had been a child she and her younger brother Otio had been regaled with vividly brutal accounts of a raiding expedition into the Deep Forest that had gone horribly awry due to the presence and subsequent ambush of gigantic plant elementals which had crushed several of the story teller's comrades before they had even managed to attack the outlying tribe districts around Geansse by one of those who had taken them in off of the streets of Usnaan before being killed in the bloody revels which had swept across the New Empire of Passion) within the verdant realm, nor did she had much of an idea how to survive, what food would be available within Eria, what substances were poisonous or the location of anything within the vast jungle that no one knew the true size of.

Eliminating Eria off of her list meant that out of the four major nations, Yentar was the only one that was available for her to travel to, and though Ilentia had no inclination towards anything to do with researching, knowledge collecting or the pursuit of so called "enlightenment", but apart from that and the Yentarian Republic's general dislike of reckless and impulsive Red mana due to it being the antithesis of the logical and analytical Blue that they were based upon it would be perfectly fine for her to enter some of the cities until she could decide upon what she truly wanted to do with her newly free existence – a liberty that she had not been expecting and as such had not considered before (as Ilentia barely ever did planning, this introspection being an extreme rarity for her).

She assumed that the opinion towards demons in the Yentarian Republic would not be overtly negative (as Black mana was allied with Blue (though then again it was allied with Red as well and a rather large majority of Welkalites would consider the darkest beings of Sancturia to be monsters that did not deserve to enter the cities of the Empire)), as due to their scientific and inquisitive nature (or at least what she had seen so far of the Yentarians suggested that, though she had only a limited idea of the sub-factions known as Leagues within the Republic and how drastically their ideologies might differ from one another) they would not find the demon inside of her intensely repulsive, nor an abomination or a violation of the laws of nature.

Yes, Yentar seemed like the most likely option for her to select once she obtained the means to travel there.

Then a sudden thought pushed itself into Ilentia's mind as she randomly took a detour through another side alleyway to avoid the gazes of a few of the Ja'an Guard that had remained in Kalaan and had been patrolling the central avenue in order to aid with maintaining the order of the eastern city and so that as much of the inevitable violence between civilians could be prevented as was possible (for whatever reason that was done, as Ilentia personally thought that they should be left to kill one another because so long as it didn't affect the rebuilding process it would remove the amount of work that they needed to do in keeping the overall peace and securing the territory in the name of the Empire), unwilling even with her mask to allow them to spot her and feel in any way suspicious towards her.

Perhaps, although the Kingdom of Light itself was not a feasible option she instead could partake in a trip into the outer abyss that was reputedly the manifestation of hatred and Black mana itself (although that had some of the same problems as the Deep Forest in that she had no knowledge of the (most likely perpetually shifting) geography of such a mysterious race), as she already had a greater demon that was part of the Sancturia darkness which surrounded Lucael inside of her heart, she had already danced with damnation because of that Infernal Bargain that Ilentia had been forced into just after her dark resurrection and perhaps once she was there she would be able to dispose of Arrapackxia – or obtain an even greater power, as the nether realms were saturated with Black mana which cavorted to the twinned tunes of ambition and hatred and would aid her in her ultimately selfish quest for survival above all else.

It was a possibility, and quite an alluring one at that, but for now Ilentia resolved to escape the war torn New Empire of Passion so that the Resistance which was out for the blood of the Orders of Passion could not find her and have her executed (as, although she was a powerful and adept fighter and was aware that the Resistance didn't have too many extremely formidable mages to the same extent as the Orders of Passion had possessed (such as the Masters of the respective Orders and the generals and marshals of different armies that had powerful Summonings (whether or not they had traded their original ones away for demons in a wretched contract for more power at the cost of their souls and their "purity") - as otherwise they would have utilised more frontal tactics in combating the despotic regime of the rulers which had just been deposed instead of orchestrating clandestine operations all across the New Empire of Passion and relying upon the shining legions of Lucael to provide the military and magical power to achieve victory – Ilentia couldn't take on the entirety of the Ja'an Guard all by herself because there were far too many of them to resist).

To do that she first needed to secure passage to the north eastern city of Ja'an itself so that she could use the coastal ports of the place which had ironically been the least affected out of any of the Welkalite territories within the war which had swept through the nation and as such was the strongest area in post war Welkas, as although such an area would be infested with revolutionaries and those who supported them if she could stay concealed they would have no reason to suspect that a surviving Master from the Orders of Passion would enter into the nest of Resistance itself, most likely considered to be the most hazardous and illogical place for those who had been part of the newly destroyed hedonistic ruling class to flee to which made it all the more safer for her as if she stayed careful there was no rationale whatsoever for them to have suspicions about her presence.

Then once she was there she could utilise the water faring connections of the seaside city to travel to Yentar in the safest way possible (which was by boat, as though Welkas and the Republic were connected at numerous locations by land as well it was undoubtedly more dangerous to cross the deserts there which were home to numerous strange Unbound creatures of Blue and Red mana). To that end, she re entered the central processional in the middle of the city, her eyes darting over the figures that she wandered past through the slits in her mask, the predatory gaze scrutinising each one of them for clues as to whether or not they would be one of those with access to transport (such as the few Yentarian vehicles which had been adapted or stolen from the league of technology developers or those which were of Welkalite origin and had been developed separately by scientists belonging to the Empire which ran off of explosive Red mana combustion engines) as her red eyes slid over them, never lingering too long in order to avoid exposing them to her intense gaze and make them feel nervous.

Transportation was a luxury that few could afford within Welkas, the airships and sky barges that did exist exclusive to the rich and the influential, but now that the Orders of Passion no longer existed Ilentia knew that it was very likely not many but the most prominent figures within the Resistance would have access to aerial conveyance. That meant that Ilentia, unless she was in the mood for some violence against the newly instated governors of Kalaan (which would reveal her position without a shadow of a doubt), would have to find one of the automobiles belonging to those that that would be supplying the Resistance with long distance resources or the personal vehicles of the mercantile traders who had made a home within the centre of commerce within the east and were eager to exploit the new changes to find new revenue for their businesses.

Although they usually did not come without their guards (as otherwise they would be targeted often by those who wished to either escape the city or bring their criminal activities elsewhere), they would be much easier targets than the important officials within Kalaan and would allow her to remain inconspicuous. Ilentia spotted a glimmer of light from the right of her, her eyes instantly and automatically flicking to the source of faint illuminescence (as it suggested that it would be a metal weapon reflecting the light around it and due to her survival instinct the woman had instinctually glanced over at it to ascertain what threat it might represent) that would have blinded her in its glare if she had been only a centimetres behind where she was now stood, and a satisfied smile played onto her face underneath her no longer stylised masquerade as she identified it as the glint of automobile keys glittering in the fading orange glow of the sun which had been accidentally brandished by an individual who was on the other side of the street.

The person, a medium sized man wearing grubby overalls stained with soot and dirt from the cities suburban districts combined with the grime of the battlefield that Kalaan had become, took a turn to the right, walking down into a dark alleyway that was close to abandoned from what Ilentia had seen, obviously cursing his mistake of accidentally showing the fact that he had the ability to access a vehicle – as although the battered populace of Kalaan would be much less criminally inclined than before the deposition of their tyrant Carlyia Bloodfang and the revolution which had given them freedom from their oppressors there would still be many opportunistic individuals eager to obtain the ability to utilise a rare vehicle to either leave or gain them more money by selling it off to those who would use it for nefarious deeds.

At any rate, the man would, unfortunately for him, not get off so lucky and his mistake would not go unpunished. Under the cover of the shadows from a passing convoy of wagons pulled by huge and grunting wasteland krovods that were a form of domesticated Unbound creatures from the steppes and deserts of Welkas which obscured the wan light of the setting sun, Ilentia crossed the street, slipping between patches of darkness and the gaps between the caravans of resources taken from elsewhere in the Empire to stay hidden from any prying eyes which might have wondered as to her sudden alteration of direction.

She was grateful that events had conspired so that the convoy halted nearly the moment she had to cross the paved stones of the road in the centre of the wide avenue which had been cluttered with traffic of those pulling carts of food out of the city centre to be distributed amongst the public and those refugees who had been kept near starvation ever since their arrival when the Marshal of the East still retained her seat of dominance.

The man that she had been following who owned the keys slipped out of sight for a moment as he was concealed by the shadows of the side street he entered, and Ilentia glanced warily at the large (but not gargantuan like others of a similar species) krovod next to her that eyed her as she passed, its rasping tongue licking dry lips as it regarded her with the maximum amount of curiosity a dumb beast such as that could muster up. Drool ran down its haired chin as its large eyes covered with a film of moist skin that protected the fragile irises of the creature from the sand and dust of its natural habitat within Welkas as well as allowing them to retain their wet properties followed Ilentia's movements as she gracefully navigated the confined space between the end of one caravan and the head of the beast.

The woman who had once been at the head of the New Empire of Passion resolved to slow down and keep her movements more passive when she noted how panicked the krovod's eyes appeared, the pupils wide underneath the translucent layer that was coated with dust and sand due to the fact that it hadn't blinked ever since Ilentia had got close to it – evidently the creature that lived in both Sancturia and the world of humankind was able to detect that she had something unnatural inside of her, something that frightened the beast into a form of comical terror.

However, what would not be comical would be if her presence startled the omnivorous (barely any Welkalite creatures solely feasted on an exclusively herbivorous diet due to the scarcity of plants that could easily be consumed within the arid mesas of the eastern nation) transport creature enough so that it started reacting, possibly even causing a stampede as its fevered panic would spread to the others in its convoy chain around it. Whilst that would be a powerful distraction that she would have been tempted to employ in a different circumstance, Ilentia knew for certain that she definitely wanted to avoid such a thing when it would be her that was crushed to a pulp underneath the cloven hooves of the krovod.

It would increase the amount of time it would take for her to reach the one with the keys to an automobile which would allow her to efficiently traverse the mostly uninhabited areas between Kalaan and Ja'an, but it would also largely reduce the danger and mitigate any chance of her alarming the beast of the steppes so that was currently more important to the former Master of Gluttony.

Besides, in spite of the scarcity of vehicles within Kalaan that were not armoured or in use by the Resistance military troops (and consequently much more difficult to acquire, as although Ilentia was perfectly capable of taking on the warriors within Kalaan it would have the twofold result of firstly revealing her survival to all within Welkas and secondly alert the Resistance that one of their transportation devices had been stolen) it wasn't as if the unassuming man that she was following would be the only one to possess a means of transport in the eastern city Eras Stormwind's escape method had teleported her to.

Ilentia carefully made her way out of the space that she had happened upon, swiftly darting across the rest of the distance between her and the alleyway in which she had, ensuring that she stayed as nonchalant and as innocuous as possible as she passed through the areas that were within vision of other citizens of Kalaan, casually but still purposefully striding through them to show that she knew exactly where she was going and would not suffer fools that would try to halt her progress whilst simultaneously emphasising that her path was not urgent and she could take as much time as she wanted even though without any other civilians nearby Ilentia would have sprinted and leapt after the man with the keys to a vehicle which she would use to escape Kalaan.

The woman slipped into the alleyway shadowed by the overhang of stylised rooftops that was thankfully empty of any form of life apart from the man that she was following who had almost reached the other side. Ilentia pulled the grubby hood of her robe down over her drab mask when the man sent a darting glance backwards, fearful of being followed. The Welkalite born in Usnaan stayed to the side and hidden by the gloom that the last dregs of luminescence from the sun could not penetrate to, preventing the man – her target - from noticing her as she halted when he directed the frightened gaze in her general direction.

When he turned away and continued on his path to most likely the location of the mechanised transportation that was available to him, Ilentia kept moving, long and elegant strides carrying her swiftly and silently up behind him as she crossed the distance efficiently and at a much faster rate than he was fleeing (due to the fact that he was trying not to attract attention to himself in his movements, a futile gesture of resistance considering Ilentia was already onto his trail), a quiet predator stalking unsuspecting prey through the sand swept street, the grains of dust and desert sand serving to muffle Ilentia's already near silent footsteps.

Pre-emptively gripping hold of the handle of Malice locked within her left sheath, the enchanted blade's lust for blood and pain already seeping through its haft and notifying Ilentia of its sadistic impatience for causing the man tremendous amounts of suffering and longing to shed his viscera upon the street floor – though if everything went to plan then Malice would have to wait to satiate its craving for gore and agony as she only intended to dispose of him once she had entered Ja'an and would most likely be using her malevolent blade's destructive twin Fire for such a task in order to eradicate all trace of him and not leave a body for a potential investigation to occur (even though death within the cities of Welkas was hardly a rarity and as such his death once she got there would most probably not be inspected with any great detail if at all, especially if she could dump his body in the sea – but there was no use leaving a corpse at all if she could help it), as immolating a person tended to have such an outcome.

Quickly striding up behind him, Ilentia had enough time to analyse her target with the four out of her six of her senses so that she could be certain what she had been intending to do was the right course of action to take in order to detain him and force him to take her to his vehicle. He was the same height as the woman who had possessed the title of Master of Gluttony, built wiry like the vast majority of those born within the arid desert states of Welkas who did not have stable access to food and were not part of the gluttonous ruling classes who had been pampered by their parents' wealth (or wealth that they had obtained for themselves in Guena's case) and had never been forced to fight for their life until this point.

He was wearing a shabby brown tunic, and as Ilentia examined him from her position quite close behind him but still out of his sight she perceived brief flecks of Red mana within the person which would most likely give him the ability to drive the vehicle that he owned the access devices to. Ilentia's target did not seem like the typical owner of an automobile, much less an airship, though her sensitive nose picked up the acrid aroma of soot coming off of him which indicated that he could have been the official driver to a vehicle or a worker that piloted one of the ships that transported resources across the empire.

Or perhaps he was a thief that had stolen the unlocking mechanism for himself from its rightful owner and as such was planning to siphon off parts of the transport to others to earn money of use it to travel himself, as he certainly didn't appear much like a worker. However, what was certain was that his identity or role didn't matter so long as he could aid her in her escape from Kalaan and the territories of Welkas.

The Summoner of a greater demon had already mentally noted that he had a sheathed knife in a bare an unembellished leather scabbard at his waist that one of his hands was already primed next to, but Ilentia was certain that he would not have enough time to bring it to bear before she was upon him. Swift as a bolt of screaming crimson lightning arcing down in bloody parabolas from the roiling Tempest of Craving, Ilentia drew Malice, the blade aching to cause wounds and slice open fragile human skin, and reared up like a praying mantis behind the man.

Her bloodthirsty sabre slipped in front of him, the elegantly brutal and malicious edge instantly pressed to his throat and breaking the fabric of his clothing there, only a millimetre away from drawing blood. Understandably, the man instantly thrashed in panic, about to shout out and attract attention to himself for all that might be around and willing to help him, and to quell that Ilentia instantly broke the skin of his neck with her blade, the sharp edge of the master crafted scimitar made by passionate Welkalite artisans and artificers and imbued with the murderous power of Black mana, though she ensured that none of the vindictive and noxious poisons that usually coated Malice when she was in a battle and seeking to inflict as much damage as possible upon her foes were present this time as infecting the man with potent venom was exactly something she would prefer to avoid at the current moment.

With a sharp intake of breath, the man immediately stopped his resistance, his adrenaline fuelled mind realising through the fear that he would assuredly and painfully die if he opposed his current attack's goals at all. Scarlet rivulets of lifeblood ran down his throat and trickled down the wickedly curved edge of Malice which greedily lapped upon the vitae as Ilentia, inflecting her already intimidating voice with as much authority and menacing threat as possible, commanded, "Do not try to resist unless you want your throat slit, something that will happen much quicker if you continue to attempt to discreetly channel your mana or keep your hand on the hilt of your weapon."

Evidently trying to control his breathing which was close to hyperventilation, the nameless man tilted his head in a muted gesture of acquiescence, letting go of his blade's handle and raising both of his hands as well as suppressing his mana – though he had not been expecting such a sudden assault, the man was a Welkalite not born into a powerful and wealth family and as such had survival instincts honed by years of endeavouring to eke out a living in the cruel New Empire of Passion (and perhaps the Old Empire judging by his age of around thirty five) which had made him react quite quickly to the threat of the former Master of Gluttony.

The two had stopped, the fact that the street was empty going a long way towards Ilentia being able to do this and say what she wanted to him even though her voice barely rose above a hissing whisper as she snarled, "There are two ways that this can end. The first is that you take me to the vehicle that you currently have the keys for and then transport me across the deserts to the city of Ja'an. The second is that I kill you right now and leave your body to rot in the gutter (Ilentia didn't think that it was entirely relevant to start commenting that she would in fact incinerate the man's body to ashes scattered by the winds so that it could not be located). Neither of these options appeals to me more than another so it is entirely your choice as to whether or not you survive here."
The man gulped nervously, though he did so in a reserved manner in order to avoid having his throat being cut into more by the blade already extremely close to it, and Ilentia could smell the stench of fear upon him that her sword also picked up upon, though unlike other things that she was supposed to have control over (such as Arrapackxia, though now she had forced the demon into subservience and was certain that he would not be able to disobey her further) Malice, being nothing more than a blade with the barest hint of atavistic and base sentience and nothing close to intellect or conventional awareness, could not do anything without the accord of its master. Even so, it still oozed hunger, and Ilentia was sure that if the wielder of the sadistic scimitar was weaker than her that the blade would have buried itself fully in her current victim's throat.

"I … I can take you to the automobile o-on the w-western side of the ci-city," the man stuttered, his words blending together in his fear for his life, as now that the brief surge of adrenaline which had coursed through his circulatory system had dissipated it seemed that he had truly realised just from Ilentia's harsh timbre of voice and the purposeful resonance to her words that it would really be no trouble at all for her to end his existence and carry on with whatever she was intending to do once she had a method of vehicular movement to take her to the birthplace of Jarred Redhand which had been one of the strongholds of the Old Empire before the now ironically named Protector had unseated the generals of Ja'an from their throne of power and rose up against the city's oppressors in the first major of the revolution which had established him and his followers as a very real threat to the dominance of the even more ironically named Last Tyrant (though back then the young man had not been known as that).

"Good. And if you try anything, and I mean anything, that I so much as perceive as being defiant or attempting to call for help from the Resistance present within this city then I will not hesitate to deliver a swift yet agonising death for you. I will not tolerate any form of insolence," Ilentia growled threateningly, and although the man had not been able to look at her yet it seemed that perhaps he was beginning to register who she truly was from the tint of her voice (as Ilentia had been forced to speak in a proclamation that had been broadcast across the New Empire of Passion proceeding when she had systematically rooted out and exterminated the verminous cells of revolutionaries within Iesaan, declaring that all others from this so called "Resistance would suffer the same fate" - something that she would not have done naturally but was a useful horror tactic).

That was just another reason for her to eventually eliminate him once his usefulness had come to an end, but for now she needed him alive to get her to the transportation that he had the ability to utilise.

Nonetheless, her target evidently had enough presence of mind not to inquire about her identity right now, correctly assessing that his assailant was not in the mood for idle small talk. Ilentia pulled Malice away from the man's neck, the slicing of the blade's razor sharp edge through the air sounding suspiciously like a pestering its parents for, and instead of wasting time shifting her grip on it and pushing it to her victim's back that would give him a chance to react to her and spoil her plan of using him as a means of obtaining transport her left hand had already drawn Fire from her right scabbard and pressed it into the cloth of his tunic, breaking the sand covered material open as the weapon's twin flared with jealousy when she sheathed it.

"Lead me to it then," she ordered, ensuring that the fact she had a blade drawn and ready to slam through his chest hidden from the world around her, though she assumed that the man would most likely choose a discreet route that would avoid the gazes of others if he knew what was good for him. To help with the masquerade that she was not threatening his life, Ilentia grabbed him by the hand with her free one, her fingers enclosing round his fist that was covered in the dust of the city and breaking apart his own digits so that it would look like to any others that he was leading her somewhere and that he was holding her hand, not that she was directing him herself and forcing him to take her to the situation of his means of conveyance.

The fact that she was wearing a mask and a robe further added to this ruse, and she had seen many men and women of the night belonging to the hedonistic and apparently bliss inducing Order of Rapture wearing a similar attire when catering to their customers, and although such an Order had already been abolished that did not mean that the trade of pleasure had stopped and that those who offered their services in such a manner would be bereft of any form of work – the official Order of Rapture may have been destroyed but that had nothing do to with the carnal desires of humanity remaining.

If the man had been a Lucaelian, it was very possible that he would have deliberately tried to get her caught by leading her through a route filled with civilians and then beginning to resist her, forcing her to kill him in front of those who would be aghast at such and act and begin to attack her, perfectly willing to sacrifice his life so that others would be able to detain her.

However, she was thankful that he was not, that he was a Welkalite much more concerned with his own existence than the overall safety of the nation and the Resistance and as such would want to elude the sight of others as much as his assailant did. Ilentia was glad that she did not live in a society filled with insufferably selfless individuals convinced by propaganda, the promises of angelic salvation if they died in the line of duty and the acts of their comrades to want to lay down their own lives to preserve those of others, as it would make controlling them extremely hard compared to this where she only had to threaten him with death and her commands would be obeyed.

They walked, not too quickly as to rouse the suspicion of any that might see them but swiftly enough so that none would notice the blade that was pressed against his back, Fire aching to break the man's body and savagely obliterate it, significantly more interested in inflicting damage and causing destruction rather than the effects of administering wounds, not as inclined to revel in the pain of its targets and only wanting to annihilate them to show off its own power and delight in the show of violence.

The man's fingers were clammy and emitting a warm heat that Ilentia could feel even with the gloves that she had procured in order to conceal the deathly pallor that had afflicted her ever since the Infernal Bargain which had given her the ravenous beast that resided inside of her and had further corrupted her form to a greater extent than her dark reincarnation already had. His pulse was fast and erratic, the beating of his heart reflecting and placing more emphasis upon his fear that Ilentia could see in all of his actions and movements.

A myriad selection of different thoughts were colliding together within Ilentia's head, but she ruthlessly quelled all those that were not germane to her immediate circumstance, still alert for any form of threat but endeavouring not to communicate that to her captive with her body language – though it was probable that he was too focussed on his own predicament to notice how tense Ilentia had become, moreso than what she was at the beginning of committing the crime.

Following the man, who would not lead her to any potential compatriots unless he wished to die a messy death at the point of Ilentia's blade, Ilentia passed into another abandoned and empty street that was away from the main avenues still bustling with activity despite it being late evening, although this one was lit up by the rays of orange from the star that shone down at them from its place at the edge of the sky at the cusp of night. Then the sun fell below the horizon, a midnight veil drawn across the evening heavens, warm amber replaced by sweeping darkness faintly twinkling with the light of distant luminescence, and Ilentia grunted in annoyance when the man in front of her that she hadn't bothered to learn the name of abruptly halted.

"What are you doing?" the woman barked, her scimitar clasped in her left fist already close to ripping through the individual Kalaan citizen that she had captured and forcefully pressed into her service, the anger that she didn't even try to repress and the irritation which filled her mind blended together in a volatile cocktail of promised violence oozing with the intent to murder and give into the thirst for bloodshed and destruction that motivated her blades and gave them more power.

She let go of his hand, the man's fingers having fallen limp within her grasp, and winced as a strangely cold pain flooded through her skull like icy water was being poured into her brain and freezing up her stimulation of movements combined with a weird numbing sensation that she had never experienced before, and shook her head as she swiftly stepped round in front of him.

The pulse that had been a constant reminder of her victim's fear had slowed and become much more regular and mediated, another clear sign if any more were needed that something was occurring with the one she had chosen to take her to the city which was the womb of the Resistance, and the possible implications of that played through Ilentia's mind as she turned round to stare at the other Welkalite in the now fully dark (the light from the mana lamps which might have been illuminating the main streets (as it had done back when the Orders of Passion had possessed power here) could not penetrate through to dispel the shadows at this place) back alley.

The man stared back blankly, the tense set to his face smoothed out and his jaw slack like he had recently ingested a potent narcotic which had left him unable to use his bodily functions, but Ilentia knew that such a thing was not a case due to his pulse not being redolent of the sluggish beats of those who had taken one of the many varieties of the dangerously effective depressants that were widely available within the New Empire of Passion in order to augment the stimuli and pleasure responses of the clients of some of the Orders (such as the Order of Rapture, which was the most prominent in the trade of mentally altering substances), the normally irregular and extremely slow pulse of those affected by such a thing wildly dissimilar with that which Ilentia had felt before breaking off her contact with the man.

However, what was the most disturbing and concerning to Ilentia was the faint and dark blue light which rippled like pools of deep water in the man's eyes. reflected the silver light of the moon that had previously been eclipsed by the powerful sun within the hot nation of Welkas, but instead of mirroring the lunar glow the man's irises which Ilentia distinctly remembered as being a shade of brown emitted a dark sapphire glow that appeared to be a mixture of both darkness and lapis lazuli. Ilentia could feel an unusual sensation akin to freezing cold fingers brushing at the nape of her neck but inside of her head instead of touching her skin, a foreign presence that she could intuitively realise was there due to her advanced senses without intellectually considering it as a possibility making her feel extremely uncomfortable.

Wasting no time, Ilentia slammed Fire into the side of the man's head, the sharpened edge of the destructive scimitar slashing into the captive citizen's skull and bursting it open like a ripe fruit, the crimson juices that sprayed out of the defenceless man's head which had been hacked in half evaporating in a whoosh of steam joined by the explosion of smoke that billowed forth from his burning body as Ilentia poured fervent power through the extremities of her fingertips and into Fire, the blade reacting excitedly to the Red mana and the possibility of wreaking destruction in any of its myriad forms as the man was incinerated.

With her free hand, Ilentia snagged the keys that had been one of her prospective tickets out whatever the New Empire of Passion was going to become now that the Resistance had taken over it and the west had been devastated by their neighbours in the Kingdom of Light, grabbing them before they were claimed by the conflagration that the man's overalls had become as she swept her blade around and retracted the power that she had placed within it. Fire hissed, flaring off sparks in annoyance at not being permitted to consume everything within the blaze, but Ilentia was quick to quell its brief defiance through the force of her mind.

She drew Malice, the blade whipping through the air as it shot out of her sheath, and gave up on the pretence of trying to do anything but survive fully and avoid or kill any who would threaten that. Efficiently reacting to the perceived threat, as obviously someone had used a form of magic that she had never encountered before to paralyse her potential escort out of Kalaan, Ilentia, forgoing retaining the inconspicuous quality that she had striven to protect throughout her venture through the eastern city in order to better preserve her own life, began to draw upon her reservoir of mana that had recently been bolstered by forcing Arrapackxia to divert more of his own essence and magical energy into heightening the power of her own and allowing the darkness to pour forth from her limbs and wreath her in a shroud of pure shadow that was far darker and more malevolent than the night that had come upon Kalaan with the setting of the sun.

Malicious laughter laced with ravenous hunger permeated the miasma of voracious gloom that saturated the air around her, and Ilentia would have rolled her eyes in disapproval of the greater demon's antics had she not been solely focussed upon identifying this new threat. An unknown and foreign presence was lingering in the recesses of her mind, slowing her thoughts and her movements, but despite her efforts she could not tear it out of her or set it aflame and destroy it with waves of internal fire, which meant that she instead had to devote her power to resisting the pull of the strange sensation that threatened to drag her under into an ocean of cold numbness.

Ilentia was not overly concerned with the fact that Arrapackxia had decided to herald his own Summoning with the sadistic cackling which had filled the street with its discordant and predatory song because the Summoning and the presence of the greater demon would have alerted many in the city already due to the large concentration of Black mana that had been released around her and was covering the avenue in branches of shadow that were darker than the already near pitch black stone. A little sound wouldn't make any difference, and while some may have thought that Ilentia was overreacting to the fact that her chosen victim had frozen up and fallen unconscious on his feet she trusted her instincts – and her instincts were telling her that this was the threat the demon that had been bound to her with the sacrifice of her former cyclops from the mountains of Sancturia had warned her of after she had forced him into submission once more.

The tendrils of insubstantial tenebrosity that were bursting forth from her hands and her blades and swirling as it played around her robed form became more solid as she poured more Black mana into the unholy Summoning ritual that was the advent of her demon's entrance into the physical world, billowing around her in this more congealed manifestation as it coalesced in front of her and began to build up into a more humanoid form, though the monstrous proportions of the demon were anything but close to the appearance of the humans that inhabited this world.

"Don't even bother," Ilentia snarled at the greater demon as his large mouth, filled to the brim with sharp teeth that would most likely feast upon human flesh this day, opened, ready to greet her with his customary sarcastic comments or attempted threats, and Arrapackxia's lips twisted into a cruel and vile perversion of a child's pout at being denied enjoyment at that, although at least he remained silent and didn't waste any of the Welkalite's time with meaningless words in an endeavour to make her feel more uncomfortable or make her doubt that she was the master of him.

It was with no small sense of satisfaction that Ilentia noted that the brand of slavery she had seared into the lymphatic pale skin of the greater demon's forehead remained, starkly evident upon Arrapackxia's forehead and in the centre of its two curling horns. The Summoning must have noticed her brief scrutiny, as its mocking sulk instantly converted into a scowl of pure hatred and loathing that made Ilentia almost smirk. It was good that Arrapackxia hated her, because there was nothing that he could do to escape the rules of the Infernal Contract (one of the few rules that those who followed the tenets of Black mana or were formed from the darkness obeyed, although there were many attempts by both the Summoners and the demons bound to them to circumvent that) and as long as he was still forced into obedience it did not matter what the demon's personal opinions on the matter happened to be.

Ilentia stepped past the large form of her demon who, despite how massive and bunched with muscle that he was, was one of the smallest greater demons that Ilentia had ever encountered before (which was not many, though she had seen others that had been bonded to the other Masters of Passion) but made up for that by increasing in size once he had feasted upon human flesh or souls and was able to utilise the full extent of his power, Arrapackxia begrudgingly falling into line behind her as she quickly traversed the alleyway that she had been led into by the one who was supposed to have allowed her to travel to the heart of the Resistance.

The unfamiliar numbing sensation in her head that was stemming the flow of some of her thoughts like a damn within the river of her psyche was increasing in potency, as if reacting to her so far futile attempts to remove it and resist its influence, but now that the demon inside of her had entered the material plane and she was gifted with more dark power it was easier to mitigate the effect that it had upon her even if it still remained an uncomfortable reminder that whoever it was that she could sense as a threat within Kalaan had access to her mind, something that the Master of Gluttony was not at ease with.

She wanted to see something before launching into a potential plan of action, something that would confirm a niggling suspicion at the back of her mind that had burrowed into her psyche ever since she had first looked upon the blue glow of the man's eyes before she had killed him. The fact that no one as of yet had reacted to the presence of a demon within their city that all but confirmed the existence of one of the Masters of Passion and was a significant threat to all of their lives was not in itself concerning as it had only been mere seconds since she had Summoned Arrapackxia – but what was far more disturbing was how the raucous noise of city life that had filled the eastern city even in these late hours (though day and night cycles had never been a barrier to the Welkalite people as it was in other cultures and revels in the New Empire of Passion had lasted well into the afternoon of the next day without any form of pause) had died down almost the instant the man in front of her had stopped moving and ceased his activities.

Silence had filled Kalaan, utter and complete silence that was extremely eerie, punctured only by the gentle whoosh of the wind as it blew the ubiquitous sand and the dust around the city and the sound of the footsteps of the Welkalite woman and her demon on the street that was a mixture between the clacking noise of boots slamming down on the stone and the crunching of sand underneath their footfalls. Despite the fact that Ilentia was still labouring under the idea of being stealthy and her graceful movements reducing the impact of her footsteps and therefore reducing the noise that they made, they still sounded deafeningly loud and amplified to a great degree with no other sound within the large dwelling of Welkalite people.

Although the fact that her demon was anything but graceful (though Arrapackxia was certainly not lumbering and clumsy) and had no qualms about creating noise as well as being much heavier than his Summoner meant that their movements echoed throughout the empty backstreet as it bounced back and forth between the walls. The silence would be unnerving to Ilentia if she had been able to be scared by such a thing any more, but despite that it was still concerning that a city with potentially hundreds of thousands – or even millions – of inhabitants would not be creating any noise whatsoever.

There was no movement in the sky either from what Ilentia could see, the birds and other flying Unbound that had been there before and had often flitted past Ilentia's vision as they glinted in the light of the orange sun (before it had fallen past the horizon) completely and conspicuously absent. Not even the large vultures that usually circled above the settlements of humankind to capitalise upon the weakness of those left unattended and had gathered in great force after the violence between those still loyal to the Orders of Passion and Carlyia Bloodfang to partake in the scavenger's feast of the grim pickings of those who had been killed or heavily wounded and left for dead by their allies were present, which was another sign that something was severely wrong if any more were needed.

The clouds had also swept in, blocking out the twinkling light of the stars and plunging the sky into darkness apart from the one focal point of the moon which shone with a lucent celestiance into the night. A frosted halo of silver girdled the sphere, strengthening its stellar brilliance. It had been waxing steadily over the past few days above the city of Kalaan whilst Ilentia had been a temporary resident of it, and it was culminating at a full moon at this point, a zenith of grey light that beamed like a miniature sun down on the eastern settlement. However, whilst the baleful red orb in the sky was hot and angry, suffused with rage as it glared down at the withered and arid landscape beneath it, the full moon's light was a cold and dispassionate glow, a frigid winter gleam that austerely beheld those who lived their lives underneath its emotionless gaze.

"I'm glad that you decided to heed my warning," Arrapackxia quipped in a way that made him seem very far from it as he stalked behind her, his eyes fixed upon Ilentia instead of their surroundings as the young woman kept up her systematic surveillance of the nearby area for enemies or any indication what was happening. The Summoner of the greater demon ignored the Sancturia creature that knew enough about Ilentia not to get too close to her (or even worse, touch her with its repulsive skin and disgust her with the contact) and was still under the mindset of not disobeying her or pushing her boundaries for now after what she had done to it.

Even though Ilentia was not even looking at the demon, she could sense the barely repressed anger combined with detestation directed towards herself that simmered underneath its skin and filled its voice, dripping from every malicious syllable and seeping out of every word spoken, but at least right now Arrapackxia knew better than to try anything, not with the power that she had shown and the pain that she had caused the demon which it was trying to hide as if forgetting that they were mentally linked due to its residence within her mind. Ilentia would have asked Arrapackxia if he was suffering from the same debilitating mental affliction that seemed to be gaining strength and forcing her to divert more attention to suppressing it, but it was entirely possible that the demon had no idea it was straining her and that revealing it could change its views of aiding her for now – additionally, she was hardly trusting of her personal demon helper, and Arrapackxia most likely wouldn't provide her with any useful information whatsoever.

Ilentia warily paused before leaving the shrouded alleyway which had been longer than she had expected and had cut through a rather substantial section of the city whilst remaining utterly empty of all other human life (though the rats that she had been able to see wriggling and swarming underneath the sewer grates of the backstreet had also stopped rearing their heads with the coming of night and the advent of the moon's light. Arrapackxia didn't stray too close to her, also halting in its tracks as Ilentia waited until she had fully prepared for leaving the relative safety of this uninhabited area and crushed the distractions within her mind, repressing the effects of the mental intrusion as much as possible and endeavouring to place as many barriers in place within her psyche as she could to halt the progress of the odd feeling.

She could hear the demon's hungry and rasping breathing behind her, atavistic inhalations and menacing exhalations forming a dark melody that promised agony and torment to those who would arise to become Arrapackxia's victims, and she could smell the stench of his scent on the air, raw and rancid meat mixed with the unpleasant aroma of moist and sickly sweet corruption. However, she was perversely glad of its presence, as it meant that despite how much she personally despised the demon inside of her that resided within her subterranean Mind Realm Ilentia would have a powerful ally to combat the potential threats with.

"You first," she ordered Arrapackxia, sliding to the side to make way for the demon that cocked what would have been an eyebrow for a human being at her, its grey pits of eyes glinting with equal amounts of hunger and amusement as it bowed mockingly to his Summoner and rising up again. Arrapackxia looked away from her, loping forwards into the avenue that was a parallel of the one she had first located the key bearer within, and Ilentia followed behind quickly, ensuring that the demon stayed within sight of her after a brief moment where it was not attacked or beset upon by enemies, from the Resistance or otherwise.

She passed into another large processional within the central regions of Kalaan surrounding the still smouldering palace building that had been the tyrant Bloodfang's place of habitation and also the location of the last stand of the Orders of Passion within the largest city of the sand swept east of Welkas, though this one had a large and flowing stream of water that cut through the centre of it as it was at one of the four compass points from the central island paradise at the middle of Kalaan which provided the entire city with a means of alternate transport (though it had not been used in that manner for many years after one of the older emperors had decreed that it be kept free of boats that did not belong to the military or the pleasure barges of noble families closely related to the royal line) and a supply of clean water due to its position as being built upon a desert oasis (as many of the eastern cities were, though this one was much more than most).

Ilentia stared at the water for a moment, the moon's reflection illuminating the street around it in its silver glow as the lunar circle rippled in the movements of the mixture between a lake and a river that was much cooler here than it was around the central island within Kalaan. Her eyes gazed into the shimmering light of the reflected moon, the numbness of her mind exacerbated by such a thing, before she forcefully shook her head and turned away from it, full of disgust at herself at being transfixed by such a thing when she was already aware that this sudden change had coincided with the fall of the sun and the beginning of true night.

She turned round, her eyes finding her demon who had halted and was glancing at the figures in front of him, before nodding as she gazed at them. It was as she had expected; the other living beings of Kalaan had been affected just as the man who had owned the keys to a form of vehicular transport which would have facilitated her escape from the city she had been teleported to by the retreat mechanism that Eras Stormwind had gifted to her.

Their eyes were suffused with the same faint and murky sapphire glow that had consumed those of the first she had seen like this, and they had frozen in the actions that they had last been completing like someone had somehow halted all time in the area and that this was simply a snapshot holographic photograph of Kalaan at night created by Blue mana – though such a thing could not be true, as Ilentia had been in Kalaan for several days now and had been able to exit in and out of her own Mind Realm, meaning that this could not be any form of imaginary illusion world that she had been transported to.

Across the street from them, another supply caravan train of resources that would be disseminated amongst the refugees who had sought to obtain asylum from the violence in the wider nation as New Empire of Passion destructively thrashed in its death throes and threatened to take all of its inhabitants down into ruination with it and the civilians within Kalaan already who had been displaced and damaged by the civil war and oppressed for years by the regime of the Orders of Passion was suspended and frozen. The eyes of the krovod harnessed to the wagons of food and clothing were glazed over, the emission of blue fluorescence there much less prominent than it was through the eyes of the humans, and they were also paused in unconsciousness with their eyes open.

Arrapackxia extended one large palm that was topped with venomous claws curling out from the extremities of huge fingers, reaching out towards one nearby civilian who was paralysed by the enigmatic magic that had somehow been cast, and Ilentia watched her demon as she kept her eyes figuratively peeled for any sign of those who had caused this, trying to ignore the unfamiliar emotions that were swirling around inside of her head at what she was seeing.

The fact that she had not been affected and was not currently slumbering on her feet could mean a few things, although at the current moment due to the reality that Ilentia could feel her mental self having to fight to escape from the pull of the same unnatural sleep which had entranced those in Kalaan made her presently more liable to believe that it was down to her mental strength, her force of will and the power that was at her command which had allowed her to resist the spell that had evidently utilised the moon as some form of focal point or transmission device.

However, it was extremely worrying that such a spell existed, as the possible implications of this kind of power to silence an entire city and force it into a deep unconsciousness boggled the mind – how many times had it occurred before, if such a thing was possible and Ilentia wasn't hallucinating or under the effects of a type of magic that altered her psychosis? How many times could it happen again to Welkas? What had the orchestrators of this event achieved before by employing this exact tactic to suppress the minds of those without significant strength at their beck and call? And what did they hope to achieve now – or were they even creatures that had motives? It was entirely possible that the perpetrators of this magic that had left the avenue which Ilentia was stood upon silent apart from the breath of the cool wind as it shifted the sands were not quantifiable at all, as they could be a form of elemental, horror or other Unbound creature that had the ability to force an entire city into sleep.

There were so many unanswered questions, but the most prevalent two in Ilentia's mind were whether or not this occurrence had something to do with the fact that she was in Kalaan now (and she was too concerned with her own survival to ever assume that it was just a coincidence that this had happened now) or if it would have occurred without her and how it was that her demon had known of this happening, a fact that went a long way towards convincing her that this was by design and not a random happenstance that – or that it had been targeted towards Kalaan itself.

The demon's hand brushed against the nearest civilian, a soldier from the Resistance who had been turning to gaze at something that Ilentia could not see when she followed her line of sight, but instead of touching the woman there was a shimmering glimmer of murk around her that vibrated and undulated as he tried to make contact with her – most likely so that he could devour her and rise to his full power.

"Hmm. Interesting..." Arrapackxia murmured to itself, languidly tracing a line down it with a long claw as if he was trying to draw a pattern into the woman's skin, the expanding scintillation birthed forth from a mixture of blue and black light and composed of a strange essence with Ilentia was not familiar with.

The demon turned to the woman's compatriot, an older member of the Resistance whose brow was furrowed in concern as she leant upon her spear (an unusual weapon choice within Welkas, as most warriors preferred the brutality and swiftness of close quarter weapons like swords, daggers or axes, suggesting that either she did not have a penchant for savage and passionate violence or had equipped herself with that to reinforce the idea that they would be keeping the order within Kalaan), and suddenly slammed its hand forwards into her.

Such a blow would be enough to eviscerate even some of the toughest mortals and disembowel angels, and to all intents and purposes it should have rammed straight through her armour with no resistance at all, impaling her through the stomach and turning her organs to shreds, but instead of doing any of that all of the force behind the blow was instantly and silently absorbed by the shield that rose up around her.

It was as if the slumber that the citizens and creatures of Kalaan had been forced under also protected them from harm and prevented the awake from interacting with them at all – stopping them from trying to save them or kill them. Arrapackxia allowed darkness to encircle his fist, launching a tendril of pure blackness at the woman after his arm had been stopped by the gloomy shield around her, but it had the same effect as the physical contact itself and was halted just before touching her or affecting her. Ilentia was uncertain as to whether or not a magical attack of great potency (or a physical assault bolstered heavily by mana based energies) would have any effect, but presently she had greater concerns as her demon began to lope forwards again, moving in its usual manner of utilising all four limbs when it had not metamorphosed into its more formidable embodiment of rapacious hunger.

"How did you know that something like this was going to happen?" she demanded of her demon, her questioning tone filled with an authoritative resonance as she wielded the power that she had obtained over the Sancturia being to force it to respond to her (as otherwise it would suffer excruciating pain that even a greater demon would not be able to resist falling to their knees and screaming at) and the demon didn't turn around to her as it replied whilst she warily eyed the area around her for any indication of activity (though she hardly expected that those who had caused this would accidentally reveal themselves to her) that would suggest the presence of enemies, "It was a simple inkling, my dear. I believed that it would be pertinent to inform you of such a thing, my mistress, and it seems that such a thing did not go unfounded. We demons have senses that far surpass those of mortals, metaphysical perceptions that mere humans could not hope to ever attain-"
"Cut to the point," Ilentia uttered, tired of her demon's meaningless drivel that it was spouting at her as they slowly progressed through the city – although she had no idea why they were moving or where they intended to go, as this was one of the most open areas in the city already and as such would be the best place to remain within for anticipating the next move of their mysterious enemies, and considering that the aforementioned performers of this act had what amounted to control over the entire city there was nowhere safe place within it that would allow Ilentia to stay away from danger, not that she even wanted to as there was no use in simply hiding instead of fighting.

However, what was frustrating for her and was making her exasperation rise was the reality that there was little that she could do apart from just waiting for them to come to her – a course of action that she despised, as Ilentia had always preferred to be proactive and be on the offence even before her dark resurrection which had accentuated that even further, echoing many of her nationality who were much more adept at attacking than defending (one of the many reasons why the siege of Usnaan had ended in disaster for the Welkalites (well, more precisely the Orders of Passion) even though the tactics employed within the sprawling capital had been anything but conservative and defensive.

"There isn't one. I perceived that there was a threat to your continued existence, and made you aware of exactly that. You were the one that asked the question," the demon's words started off as a snarl of irritation and annoyance at being spoken to in that matter by a pathetic human being, but as Ilentia's baleful gaze had become flintier, her eyes like the red orbs of the scorching sun on certain days but much more crimson, Arrapackxia's tone became begrudgingly more respectful and less belligerent, recognising that for now Ilentia had the upper hand in the battle for dominance of which they were both participants.

Sniffing, Arrapackxia strode away from the woman, automatically attempting to yank one of the mortals stood stock still at the side of the water before scowling in frustration when its efforts were thwarted and it was forced to take an alternate route to the edge of the stream which still flowed freely from the island oasis in the centre of Kalaan, a sight which could have potentially been amusing if Ilentia was inclined to view it in that way (which she was not).

The demon placed its hand in the slowly moving water, gliding its large fingers through the liquid before pulling them back to his face and licking at the droplets of water that dripped off of the digits before nodding to itself. Ilentia watched from a short distance away, close enough for the Summoning to assist her if danger arose and for her to bring it to heel with chains of darkness if necessary but far enough away to alert her if the demon spontaneously decided to turn on her and to not be affected too much by its loathsome aura or the feeling of disgust that she had always felt directed towards it.

"The water. Have you ingested any of it?" Arrapackxia somehow made the inquiry simultaneously seem to be brimming with the desire to help Ilentia and full of sadistic glee at her predicament. Ilentia frowned as her Summoning swirled another large claw within the river that ran through this section of Kalaan and separated the four main districts of the inner city, replying with some confusion, "Of course. But I only drank when necessary."

Despite the fact that with her new body Ilentia had far more stamina and endurance than any normal human and could go hours in the blistering heat of Welkas without hydration being necessary where other would have died of heat stroke by then, she was still only human and required sustenance of both the liquid and solid type to be able to act at optimum capacity. That meant drinking from the water of the rivers that passed through the eastern city. Arrapackxia nodded, continuing, "That is one of the sources of the spell that has frozen up the mortals around us and is currently affecting yourself, although with your power you can resist its influence. The water is infused with particles that have been permeated with mana of the Blue, Black and Green varieties, for the entire length of your stay at the very least if the taste of them is anything to go by. Whoever did this must have waited for the advent of this night to put their plan into action, as the full moon of Vene'Kalzcrox, known as the Sorcerer's Moon by some pitiful cultures of your race, acts as an amplifier for Blue and Black mana."
Arrapackxia turned back to her, his eyes still gleaming with predatory hunger in spite of the relative helpfulness of his words (although where he had derived the knowledge from was unknown, but if it didn't help Ilentia then she did not care in the slightest), and haughtily stretched his palm towards Ilentia as if beckoning her over, tendrils of gloom coalescing and dancing around its poisonous claws, "Come, my Summoner. I have a boon to grant you."

Ilentia's gaze must have betrayed how apprehensive she was about such a thing, her eyebrows immediately arched despite herself, and the demon chuckled, amused tone full of malignancy and dark mirth. "Please, I have no intentions of doing anything remotely traitorous right now despite how amusing it would be. You are in control for now, my dear, as I would quite like to avoid any more pain at your hands for the time being. Now you can either except my gift or not, it does not matter to me in the slightest."

"Why are you going out of your way to help me all of a sudden?" Ilentia questioned suspiciously, making no moves towards the demon who was still stood in the exact same position with hand outstretched and tenebrous arcs swirling around its talons.

The demon smirked, full of false mirth at the situation and at his Summoner, responding with a nonchalant shrug expanded upon by, "There is no particular reason for it. You forced me into continued enslavement and reinforced our Infernal Contract, and while before that I had wanted to rush your death as soon as possible so that I could feast upon your soul and punish you for making me abandon my hunting grounds with a thousand years of excruciating agony that is more painful than you could ever imagine," Arrapackxia's eyes widened in longing at the thought and he licked his lips hungrily,

"You have shown yourself to be much more powerful than I had ever anticipated – as not many mortals can mark a demon's flesh as you did. I am intrigued by you, Ilentia, intrigued by what Tradax managed to create from the ruin of your corpse when channelling the power of my little brother and our former master. And I am not interested by many mortals at all. I still eagerly await your death and my freedom from these bonds, but for an immortal being such as myself a few years is not going to change anything, and for the time being I can entertain myself by bringing your enemies to ruin and watching to see what chaos you create."

Ilentia considered the words for a moment, and then, certain that it was not a trap because invoking her wrath would bring untold consequences down upon the greater demon that she could sense it did not want, quickly stepped forwards. Begrudgingly, she spat, "Do it then. Grant me this power that you seem so eager to give to me. And be quick about it."

"As you wish," the demon smiled viciously, his hand immediately lancing forwards to her face. Ilentia repressed the automatic reaction of recoiling away from the personification of primal hunger mixed with sadistic hedonism in front of her and forced herself to remain still so that the demon could do its foul work upon her. The demon's claw that extended out from its index finger was ensorcelled by wisps of malefic darkness formed from Black mana and Ilentia had to fight to keep her eyes open instead of instinctively shutting them so that the greater demon presumably still under her command could not touch them. Arrapackxia drew the long talon around her eyes, whorling round one of them and then tracing it in lines of blood across her face. It split apart the skin, and Ilentia hissed as the agony flooded through her, each nerve ending around her eyes and connecting to the visual sensory organs aflame with the pain that blossomed as a deadly flower all across her.

"What are you doing to me?" the woman snarled, the pain making her furious tone of voice much more terrifying to hear, but she did not make any moves other than raising her swords and channelling mana through them in order to show that she was ready to tear into the Sancturia being if necessary and hack him apart to forcefully return Arrapackxia to the Mind Realm within her subconscious. The words and the defensive actions provoked loud barking laughter tinged with a hint of contempt from her Summoning, who chuckled, "I never promised that it would not be painful, Ilentia, only swiftness is what you asked for. Hold still. I am not quite finished yet."
Blackened blood like liquefied tar that shone with a flickering molten light of burning embers ran down her face in rivulets of dark liquid that stained her cheeks with the sticky black substance that her vitae had become, and the demon's claw sliced deep, scraping against her bones and causing more pain that she ignored.

The skin of her face became slick with her blood, more gore pouring out of it than should have been possible considering where the incision had been inflicted, but Ilentia supposed that this "gift" that the Summoning of hers was granting her was magical in nature and as such would not obey normal rules of anatomy. The Welkalite could infer just from the demon's posture and the sound of the ravenous creature's voice that it was enjoying causing her pain under the pretence of aiding her, and although its touch was more gentle now as it was applying the finishing amelioration to the ritual (Ilentia could tell because she could already see the way that she perceived things changing) it was no less torturous.

Redness filled her vision, alternating between arcs of crimson and pure darkness that burned into the night, but Ilentia found that when the demon pulled away from her that everything had much more clarity within the darkness, that she could see the beating hearts of the humans around her and notice the minute vibrations of their breathing as the air in front of them puffed against the barriers around them which had prevented Arrapackxia from touching them and devouring them (as she was sure that her gluttonous demon would have done had the opportunity to do so arisen), the minuscule shimmering of the fields of magic around them clear as day to the Master of Gluttony now.

"I have given you the witch-sight, fitting for one such as yourself if I do say so myself," the demon uttered as a way of explanation as to why Ilentia was now suddenly seeing the world in so much more predatory detail than before as the wounds around her eyes regenerated slowly by closing up and preventing the flow of blood that had poured out of them. "It should aid you in locating our enemies, as now that I have granted you this unholy blessing you have the closest to the same capabilities of sight of myself that a mere mortal would ever be able to obtain."

"Do you know of the nature of the foes that we face?" Ilentia asked as she scanned the area around her once again, feeling the mana that the demon had described to be present in the water saturating the air and able to isolate and identify its presence within her, though it was too far absorbed within her body for her to be able to purge all of it now. Arrapackxia shook his horned head, responding, "I have an inkling, but that is all."

Sensing that she was going to get nothing more than her demon who was clearly aware of much more than the limited information that he was letting on, Ilentia eyed the water now that she could see the patterns of unfamiliar mana within it that was also present in the bodies of all those frozen up around it, walking towards its edge and staring down into the depths of the clear liquid which had become murky and dark as day had turned into night, its crystalline purity facilitated by near constant boiling from its source of the central oasis island which cleansed the water of any potential foul toxins now gone and exposed as simply a façade which had hidden the corruption of three colours of mana.

She stared into the water that was illuminated by the light of the moon, but this time with her new witch-sight Ilentia could perceive her own reflection within it. The demon's ministrations had left her with relatively prominent scars on her face, sacrilegious and forsaken symbols drawn carved onto the spaces around her eyes that flashed with mana as she stared at them, and dried blood had coagulated on her cheeks which she hadn't bothered to wipe away.

She gazed into her own read eyes, briefly wondering whether this was who she was and what that meant, what it meant to be Ilentia instead of everyone else before quashing the uncharacteristically introspective and rebellious thoughts that had risen up at the sight of her own tainted form as she noticed something strange. Tendrils of darkness were wrapping around her reflection like strings of pure midnight, but as she looked down at her own physical body she could see nothing in her conventional sight nor her newly augmented witch vision. Ilentia glanced back at her reflection, which was being surrounded by the shadowy chains and ropes that gently wrapped around her rippling form, her pale skin degrading and disintegrating away as the darkness touched it as Ilentia watched herself with wide eyes.

The skin sloughed off from her reflection, exposing the tender flesh underneath with bleak white bone protruding from it before even that was concealed by the darkness encircling the projection of her. Ilentia's eyes flashed blue and the moonlit reflection reached towards the physical body of the woman that it belonged to, acting of its own accord instead of following her own movements like it was supposed to. Ilentia automatically raised her weapons and stepped away from the slowly flowing river, but not before she saw the reflection of herself which was being consumed by the blossoming darkness screaming words that she could not read at her as it was dragged away and submerged.

No sooner as Ilentia had witnessed the strange sight then she sensed movement in the peripherals of her newly enhanced vision. The sudden motion in the corner of her eye opposite to the one that Arrapackxia was stood within attracted her attention, something that she would not have perceived without the witch-sight, and she snapped her head towards it, pushing the thoughts of what she had seen within the darkened waters of the river out of her mind and concentrating herself on this new arrival – she would not be distracted by what she was sure had been nothing more than a simple illusion, a banal trick of the light created by mischievous Blue mana combined with malicious Black in order to give her pause.

But then it was gone. Ilentia growled in frustration, knowing that only her enemies – those who had caused this city wide slumber – could have caused this. She could feel the intrusion within her mind growing stronger and more pronounced, altering her to the proximity of foes, and strange, half formed images of something she couldn't quite identify were pressing at the edges of her psyche.

The woman who may have been the only remaining Master of an Order of Passion within the New Empire bearing its name emitted another snarl of frustration. Even with her demoniacally enhanced witch-sight, she could see nothing, but Ilentia refused to believe that she had seen nothing.

"Arrapackxia?" Ilentia hissed, wanting to know whether or not the demon had seen the same as her or had an idea as to what the movement had been, but before the Summoning could put forward an answer (if that was what the demon was even intending to do, as Ilentia had no guarantee that the beast would answer her demands) another blurred and indistinct shape shot out of the darkness of night and sped just out of vision, moving with an impossible swiftness that even Ilentia with her advanced senses could not follow. She raised her levels of mana, channelling the magic of combined passion and hatred to such a point that she would be able to release it without even a moment's notice, ensuring to hold in the usually defiant mana which was notorious for disobeying the commands of weaker mages and either providing them with far too much mana for them to control (and exploding in a violent backlash in the same instance) or activating too early in its haste to wreak destruction and ruination. Ilentia stood stock still, the only sounds the breathing of herself and her demon who had near silently moved up behind her, but there was nothing more to be seen.

She gave the area where she had first seen movement a final glare, adrenaline pumping through her body and coursing through her polluted bloodstream and making everything seem slower, and began to walk forwards. Her feet clacked upon the cracked stone of the pavement which hadn't been repaired after the battle within the city only a few days ago, and as she stalked forwards with Arrapackxia following close behind a lithe figure crawled down one of the walls of a nearby armoury (which had been plundered by both sides of the conflict for weaponry and left barren afterwards), its form vague as if it dragged the surrounding darkness with it like a shroud.

Ilentia flicked a glance over her shoulder, sensing the motion despite not having looked in the same direction as it, and the figure melted into the shadows once more, returning to invisibility near instantaneously – but not fast enough. Ilentia saw it in her witch-sight, a nebulous figure displaying remarkable agility in traversing the vertical landscape blending back into the tenebrae, almost before she had caught sight of it.

With a cry of frustration, Ilentia released the mana that she had been building up, a wave of fire borne of Red mana combining with volatile hellish energy spawned by her Black bursting out of her crossed swords as it crashed across the street, melting the broken paving stones underneath it to molten slag as it rushed over the building that the enemy had been scaling, the powerful mana smashing into the armoury and reducing it to a shattered rubble within a few seconds as it immolated it in hellfire that ripped it apart. Glowering at the debris that smashed apart as it hit the ground, Ilentia was not surprised to see that there were no charred corpses or ashen remains within the scorched ruin of the building – although there were figures inside of there, civilians with their lullaby shielding now caked in ash that slowly poured off them like waterfalls of black powder completely unaffected by the powerful magic that she had released, as were the ones that the flames had passed over.

"Patience, my dear. We wouldn't want to wasting too much mana on shadows, would we?" Arrapackxia mocked, though in spite of the demon's voice being heavily saturated with a derisive resonance Ilentia detected an inflected hint of frustration as well, her own irritation at the tactics of her mysterious foes reflected in the angry timbre of her Summoner's words. She didn't reply to the scornful utterance, even though she could have spat back a blisteringly scorching response. Do they seek to make a fool out of me?

Irrelevant. I need to remain calm so that I do not act reckless and play into their hands. My foes are clear trying to bait me into overreacting to their displays of confidence, so I need to not give in to that and to force them to come at me on my terms.

Ilentia could occasionally discern a flash of blurred movement on the edges of her range of vision several times more, and although each time she snapped her head round to investigate and noticed that her demon was doing the same as its roving grey pits of eyes followed the threats that were dancing around them even with her new gifts of sight she could not fix her eyes upon them and they faded as soon as they appeared.

Had Ilentia given into her frustration, she might have been tempted to shout something akin to "Show yourself, cowards!" but that would not have been remotely useful and would only have wasted her breath. Both Fire and Malice in her hands were becoming tired of the games the enemies were playing, the former more than the latter as Ilentia's hand holding the blade affiliated with Red mana tingled with the infernal energy she had released from it, and the Master of Gluttony was inclined to agree that this constant waiting was straining her to breaking point and filling her with constant adrenaline which would have abandoned other humans by now.

What was more concerning however was the foothold the invader trespassing into her psyche had gained over time, and the images that were being placed within her mind were becoming more and more distinct and recognisable – Ilentia saw herself wandering through the night streets of Kalaan, ignoring civilians as she normally would and moving in the exact pattern she had employed earlier. The images themselves were nothing special, possessing no unique qualities or characteristics that would make them stand out from anything else.

It took Ilentia a few seconds of internally analysing them for her to deduce what they were and the purpose that they had – they were false memories, recollections of a day that would never pass being implanted into her mind, inserted into her head as if that was what she had been doing upon this day. Ilentia knew that the same would be happening to all of the other inhabitants and temporary residents of Kalaan who were trapped within their soporific stupor, that they would believe what their minds had told them about this day and think that the images and ideas being placed inside of them were the truth.

No one would ever have any cause to suspect that anything in the city was amiss, that all of its civilians and military from the occupying divisions of Resistance had been forced into a senseless slumber whilst the Master of Gluttony was hunted down within their ranks. They would all be none the wiser to the power that this enigmatic threat wielded over them, and the ramifications of that were potentially immense.

It was powerful telepathy, that much was certain, and while Ilentia did not have much experience with the magic of the mind at all (especially the magic of interacting with others' mental states, as she was a Summoner and as such had a cognitive link to her resident greater demon) she assumed that such a momentous spell would have required gigantic quantities of mana to power – and that the water would have acted as a medium for this.

"The mana within the water," Ilentia spoke, filling the void of silence that was only broken by the echoing sound of her and her Summoning's movements despite the amount of near imperceptible motion that there was within the processional street near to the central island palace, constantly alert for when these foes of hers would make their move upon her and press the attack. Arrapackxia glanced over at his Summoner half resentfully as she continued efficiently, "Could it act as a conduit for the magic that is afflicting me and the other Welkalites in Kalaan now? And does that mean that there is a mage utilising the particles placed within the water in conjunction with the Sorcerer's Moon to amplify the spell that has frozen up all of them?"
"My, you are an intelligent one aren't you?" Arrapackxia derided at first, before elaborating before Ilentia could snap back and release some of the stress that was building up within her at not being able to isolate and slay her enemies that were affecting her and slowing down her movements with their magic, "Yes upon both accounts. There will be one mage, or perhaps several, who are channelling the spell, but for them to do that they would most likely have to be present within the city. I do not exactly know what technology has been invented which could allow them to project their magic upon this blasted dwelling of maggots from a distance, if any, so I would presume that they are located here – though with what we have seen so far it would be a significant misdemeanour for our enemies to have placed them in an obvious area, and judging by their current favouring of stealth I am not surprised that we cannot sense them even with my advanced sensory capabilities."
Ilentia did not have the time to respond before a flash of motion that would not have registered in her normal eyesight (in spite of the fact that it far surpassed that of most other human beings) forced her to respond. Malice lashed upwards through the air, intercepting the projectile that had hurtled towards her mere inches from her face, and she smiled despite herself at the fact that her foes had now made their move.

It was a display of confidence which was not echoed inside, as the woman was having to actively suppress rogue thoughts that told her that she had no hope to defeat a force that had planned this occurrence for who knew how long and had the power to suppress the activity of an entire city the size of Kalaan, and those concerned with what they wanted from her and why they had chosen to do this now. It was entirely possible that they were only seeking to eliminate her because she had happened to be able to resist the pull of their induced slumber and as such was an anomalous result that needed to be eradicated so that they could continue with a strategy that didn't concern her, but for some reason she seriously doubted that and believed that they were in fact intending to kill her to further their own enigmatic agenda or to capture her for the same rationale.

Instead of allowing the missile which had been launched from the top of a nearby roof at his Summoner to fall to the ground, Arrapackxia's large hand shot out and plucked the small blade from the air with a grace that a being of his size should not have possessed, holding it delicately between his forefinger and thumb that were both larger than the dart.

The demon studied the long, barbed splinter with interest, noting the venom that it was saturated within which was of both physical and magical origin blended together. It was half of the length of the spawn of the darkness's large finger, and so thin that it was all but invisible if he turned it on its side – meaning that it did not refract nor reflect the light of the moon and would have not betrayed its presence to Ilentia without her witch-sight. It was sharp as well, the fractal edge of the barb already cutting into Arrapackxia's digits, though his leathery and tough skin was too resistant for it to pierce and draw blood.

The ravenous demon lifted it carefully up to his lips, and his snake-esque tongue flashed out to sample the poison and enchantments at the end of the serrated tip. The taste was acrid, and Arrapackxia registered several toxic agents upon the splinter, some of which were familiar to him and occasionally employed within his own magic (though it did not have the same demonic power as the venom more frequently utilised by the greater demon of the Sancturia abyss) whilst others were unknown to even a paragon of evil such as himself. The foreign substance entered the demon's polluted bloodstream, and his limbs began to vibrate quickly, spasming in a shuddering motion that Arrapackxia was quite unfamiliar with for a short few seconds.

A slight sweat broke out on the demon's pale brow, and he lifted a minutely shaking hand in front of his eyes, trying to keep it steady but failing. He felt the unknown serum coursing its way through his malignant veins, working its way towards the blotted and rotting mass of Black mana that masqueraded as Arrapackxia's heart, but the demon remained unconcerned as he stepped forwards, tossing the barb aside, where it pinged off of the energy field surrounding one of the paralysed citizens of Kalaan. Indeed, as soon as the poison had entered the being's unholy vessels, the demon's mana engineered defences against the threat of something borne from or related to the same power that made him had activated, and were even now isolating and decomposing the toxins, absorbing the Black mana which had given potency to the venom for himself and ejecting the Green and Blue that was also present and unusable by the greater demon.

Arrapackxia smirked as his pounding heart rate steadily returned to normal, his blood purged of the negative effects of the barb's coagulated toxicity after less than a minute – as any poison that could provoke that response from the body of a greater demon was one that was that would rip through the immune systems of a human being and permanently shut down their fragile internal organs, heralding their death in a series of violent spasms and vomit.

Whilst Arrapackxia had emerged from the ordeal completely unscathed and would not be affected by any of the bolts unless they somehow managed to pierce his leathery hide (and even then he would still be near immune to their debilitating effects for a period of time more protracted than a few seconds), his Summoner would not be so lucky if she would have the venom injected into her own bloodstream. Arrapackxia chose not to warn her, figuring that if she did not know herself then it would come as an unpleasant surprise for her and that he was not her carer nor had any obligation to protect her from damage. No, he would conceal that glimmer of information for his own use, and Ilentia would have to find out for herself – and if she didn't, then he would claim the prize of her soul sooner than he had anticipated.

The thought amused him, and he laughed, his voice not inflected with even a hint of the exquisite pain that he had felt coursing through his body at the potent venom that the barb had been coated in, the substance bonded to the dart in a manner that would allow it to completely cover the surface and flow like water into any incisions made. Ilentia glanced over at him for a short moment, a bemused tint to her narrowed red eyes the only indication that she was confused at Arrapackxia's actions, and the demon grinned wolfishly at her for a second until she turned away again, ever watchful for the actions of their foes.

The demon's gaze instantly flitted over to where he had noticed movement, his predatory senses honed from millennia of hunting within the darkness of the nether realms and the other territories within Sancturia that he had entered to feast upon their residents immediately perceiving the motion that his Summoner had not managed to discern despite the gift of the witch-sight that she had been so gratuitously given by Arrapackxia.

"Your enemies are close, Ilentia," he whispered, though his insidious words carried far through the silent night and hissed into the Master of Gluttony's ears in a way that was entirely unnatural. Ilentia glanced up from the top of a building that she had been studying after the moon's light had been obscured for less than a second by a figure that she was certain had traversed it, focussing intently on the path in front of her.

Sure enough, she could just see an indeterminable number of lithe figures darting from cover to cover and from shadow to shadow in the darkness of the night, heading towards them from across the avenue. Even with the advanced vision provided by her dark resurrection at the hands of the late Archlord of Rapture and the supplementary enchantments given to her eyesight by her demon Summoning's dubious gifts they were inexplicably difficult to concentrate upon. While they were moving fast as they shot between the darkness and the weak silver and eerie luminescence of the Sorcerer's Moon that bathed the street in its faint lunar glow, they were not so swift that the Welkalite would not be able to gaze upon them in any normal circumstance, but it was as if her eyes slid off their forms and were unable to centralise her vision upon any of them.

It was akin to trying to hold a wriggling fish just dragged out of the waters of its home with hands moistened by the liquid covering it, her eyes unable to find purchase upon the slippery forms of her opponents as they blended in and out of the gloom.

Ilentia's pale lips curled into a frown of frustration, and she snarled under her breath as she refused to be thwarted by simple illusionary trickery, tired of the games that her erstwhile enemies were playing with her. She directed her fiery gaze upon one of the figures as it stopped moving, allowing her to focus upon the member of the oncoming attack – as it could not be anything else, not now that she had already been the target of a minute projectile assault. For a moment, the humanoid was clearly visible as it crouched, the long fingers of one hand splayed out against the floor.

Their slim body was encased in a form fitting suit of reflective black armour which somehow refracted the light around it so that it would not touch the protective covering and only distorted the darkness and was moulded to what Ilentia presumed was a human's movements; a far cry from the heavy and mostly inflexible plate armour which had adorned the Lucaelian troops she had fought against last, possessing more similarities with the light guards of the vast majority of Welkalite warriors but covering all skin instead of leaving it bare to the elements.

Barbed ridges that she could sense were coated in magically synthesised toxins rose along its forearms, shoulders and what she could see of the human's legs, comparable to the weaponisation of armour that many brutal gladiators from the Order of Violence or battle dancers of the Orders of Entertainment or Rapture went through but with much more murderous purpose and less savagely artistic (or ridiculous, dependant upon the point of view of the person viewing it) flair than those attached to the clothing of the Welkalite – the suits of her enemies were built to kill, to assassinate or eliminate, not to entertain or cause pain to the wielders themselves.

The foe's head was enclosed within a sleek, backwards sweeping helmet made from a single piece of material possessing the same properties as the rest of their armour, not allowing Ilentia to see through to their eyes to ascertain whether or not her enemies were human or altogether something more sinister. The person was equipped with a slender weapon of a strange and unfamiliar design that Ilentia had not encountered ever before but she could not help admiring for its finesse and efficiency, attached to the black vambrace and fed by a sleek canister by the side of it that the woman who might still be the Master of Gluttony presumed had been the source of the barbed dart which had shot through the air earlier.

An elegantly curved blade protruded from the top of the area behind the barrel of the dart weapon, something that Ilentia could tell was curled more for ease of usage and effectiveness of design rather than any form of style – though the spiked appearance of her masked assailants would certainly evoke terror from those who had not seen as much as she had and engender fear from mortals who were not possessed of the same undying will to survive and prevail against those who would see her tied down or murdered.

Even with the figure that Ilentia assumed was aligned with the League of Thrazek knelt almost completely still (but too far away for her to launch a bolt of fire or darkness at them) it remained very difficult to capture in her eyes, parts of its bleeding back into the shadows in spite of the fact that they weren't moving at all – whether that was to taunt or distract Ilentia was unknown, though she still gazed at the enigmatic near silhouette as it gave her a modicum of time to analyse a foe that she had not been able to fully look upon until this point. It was hard for her to believe that the person was in fact a corporeal creature with how it seemed to possess ethereal qualities at this distance, but Ilentia was certain that it was due to how defined its shape was despite how difficult said shape was to perceive.

Then the unknown foe was moving once again, their movements sharp and precise as it dashed back into the murk of the night that had served to conceal the approach of her enemies for this long until they had chosen to reveal themselves in this way, evidently having corralled Ilentia into the place where they thought it would be the easiest to take down a target of her formidable nature or eager to maximise the time that they had alone with her – suggesting that the spell which had sent the civilians of the eastern centre of commerce and power into a deep slumber could not be sustained indefinitely and that the longer this battle was drawn on the more chance there would be for the Welkalite citizens to awaken, which was not necessarily a good or a bad thing in Ilentia's case.

The speed of her shadowy antagonist was unnaturally fast; one moment it was perfectly still, utterly balanced and focussed and Ilentia had concentrated in on it with the aid of her witch-sight, and the next it was gone. The precision of the motion suggested intensive training for years on end as well as the selection of humans with the required body type for the role, but there was a grace and fluidity of the actions that no normal and unaugmented human, no matter how trained or expert, could ever hope to match. However, despite that Ilentia could not sense much mana based resonance being emitted from those that were approaching her – it was present, just not in great quantities – which indicated that there was something other than magical enhancements that were propelling these new enemies of hers at to the level of speed and near sublime agility at which they had reached.

Although the fact that she could not sense magic could be attributed to the fogginess of her mind, the memories that were being implanted in it with telepathic magic she was constantly attempting to resist were distorting her senses and slowing them down, the pull of the induced sleep which had claimed the rest of the Welkalites (or the few representatives of other nations) in Kalaan becoming more and more enticing the longer it took for her to defeat these enemies, though for now she would be able to resist it for a very long time ranging into hours.

"It is as I anticipated," Arrapackxia's voice broke her brief reverie, alerting her to the fact that the demon had obviously utilised the brief halting of one of their adversaries commanding three colours of mana to examine the foe himself, or that Arrapackxia with his sight that could perceive far more than just the physical world (as while Ilentia had been given the gift of the witch-sight which did allow her to discern some things that were not of material origin it augmented her normal vision more than allowing her to see in alternate ways).

The Master of Gluttony did not turn around to her demon who for once spoke quite quickly, aware that there was not much time before their foes closed in on them and she would not be able to listen to his words. In spite of their urgency, there was still a haughty note to the demon's atavistic tone that Ilentia might have been tempted to forcefully remove from it, but ruminating upon what implications that might have soon became secondary to diving out of the way of a rain of splintered barbs gifted speed by magic from the vague direction of her shrouded enemies.

As she evaded the attack, she felt a splitting pain in her head, one that ripped through some of the numbing mist within her mind that was reducing the speed of her impulses and thoughts and caused her to have to bite her bottom lip to prevent her from hissing. She could sense the demon next to her who had made no moves towards their enemies apart from crouching down like he was ready to pounce into battle (correctly expecting that their adversaries would come to them instead of the other way round) was forging a connection within her mind again.

Our enemies are from the League of Thrazek in the Yentarian Republic, Arrapackxia's voice spoke into her brain without needing to open its mouth or waste its words on breath (a habit of Arrapackxia's whilst the spawn of darkness was fighting), an itching and entirely uncomfortable sensation of being connected to the demon that made the stench of its taint that it had infected her with all the more evident flaring into life within her head.

For once Ilentia welcomed the feeling of corruption and disgust that automatically rose up from within her at the reminder that the greater demon was a resident of the deepest regions of her mind. The pain of the being's words that were hissed into her head and resounded around within her skull was a confirmation that her mind was still active enough so that she could listen to Arrapackxia's voice through the mists within her minds, penetrating through any potential obstructions that might have prevented her Summoning utilising the link that was between them.

In any case, the statement only confirmed what Ilentia had already been harbouring suspicions about – even though she had previously had no idea whether or not the fabled organisation even existed or if it had been fabricated by those who had spoken of it so that their tales would hold more precedence with those that they were spinning them to, and had only ever heard brief and stunted snippets of information concerning the most mysterious of the Leagues of Thought within the Yentarian Republic.

She had heard rumours of an organisation that had enigmatic goals and seemingly struck wherever it wanted and whenever it wanted, leaving villages of Yentar or other nations alike plundered of resources or assassinating specific targets without any discernible reason for doing so, but the younger her when she was in the form of Guena had dismissed such ridiculous claims as being completely overblown. She had, apparently incorrectly, decided that either the League of Thrazek didn't exist or that they were a clandestine cartel of assassins and agents who had exaggerated their own reputation so that they could acquire more potential customers.

However, while Ilentia was concerned as to what they wanted with her and why they had rendered an entire city of the New Empire of Passion completely helpless, vaguely interested to know what their intentions had been or what they were, she was far more worried about the fact that the enemies were here and approaching at a frightening pace. She held her two swords at a ready position, both of them almost writhing within her grip they were that desperate to unleash their own forms of power upon their wielder's enemies, their excitement for the coming violence and opportunity to inflict the twin blessings of pain and destruction palpable and augmenting Ilentia's own Black and Red mana respectively.

I regret to inform you that I only know a limited amount of information concerning this secretive guild, and that is from what my little brothers have spoken of to me in the brief intervals that I have deigned to listen to their words, so the information may or may not be credible, Ilentia found it amazing that despite the demon helping her by providing her with information about their enemies and the type of spells that they had utilised (though the spawn of the abyssm did not have much of a choice considering what she had done to him in forcing Arrapackxia under her servitude once more) he could sound so sarcastic and resentful of her, the demon's hatred tangible as it leaked into her mind and reminded her that there was much to be valued about such beings even as she would rather be rid of him so that he could not stab her in the back the moment such an opportunity arose.

We have already seen that they wield a trifecta of Black, Blue and Green mana, one of the few things that I have encountered which do, though the ones that we are fighting against seem to prefer the former and have only sparingly utilised the latter to augment that, Arrapackxia's disgruntled mental words were almost polite and twisted in a foul perversion of what some cultures would extol as gentlemanly, though underneath the mockery there was a primal hunger for their foes that was beginning to eclipse all else. And I have heard from some sources that their biomancers have a penchant for modifying and altering their own Summonings to improve their capabilities through the additions of things akin to extra colours of mana or greater combat aptitude, so I assume that we will be greeted with evidence of this soon.

The words took on a scornful tint at the end of the mental speech, indicating that Arrapackxia found the practice of augmenting Sancturia creatures ridiculous – though that was characteristic of a being that was the epitome of arrogance and (honestly not entirely unfounded) conceit such as himself who believed that there was nothing that could be improved about him.

Ilentia had seen Welkalite Summoners who had permanently changed their own Sancturia Summonings (whether or not the creature had given its consent or not (if it was even one that was intelligent enough to communicate with their masters, as a rather large number were not capable of speech – including the cyclops which Ilentia had sacrificed in the Infernal Bargain after being brought back to life by the vile magic of Tradax Yulica), replacing arms with spikes or blades and equipping them with barbed armour that would induce terror within the ranks of their foes, though if what Arrapackxia had told her was factual or not and if there were Summoners against her in Kalaan she expected to see something far more refined or biological mutations instead of brutish and crude physical adaptations like those exhibited against the Lucaelian forces within Usnaan and the territories that they had subjugated prior to that final battle concerning the Kingdom of Light.

Ilentia didn't bother mentally replying, as whether or not the demon was able to hear her thoughts was still something that she hadn't yet deduced, and besides she did not have anything that she needed her Summoning to know or answer now. The information that Arrapackxia had supplied her with was at mediocre quality at best, and while there were some titbits of knowledge which might prove useful in reality most of it was meaningless to her and would not aid her in this fight at all.

Arrapackxia suddenly stepped forwards, roaring at the top of his voice (which was not as loud or powerful as it was when he had consumed flesh within the material plane or souls in any other (as they were potent not enough to satiate his thirst within the physical world)) "Come then, foes! Come and face the Archdemon of Greed! I am your doom made manifest, and I will enjoy tearing you apart and feasting upon your souls! Prepare for your everlasting torment, pathetic humans!"
If any of the enemies had been dissuaded by that, they showed no sign as they finally materialised more prominently out of the shadows, still under the influence of the spell that made them difficult to pick out but forced to reveal themselves somewhat in order to attack.

The greater demon ripped a long tendril of pure gloom out of the air and launched it towards the members of the League of Thrazek with a contemptuous flick of his outstretched hand. The blast of midnight was easily evaded by the agile agents who blended back into the darkness as they eluded the animated Black mana. Arrapackxia grinned as a hail of retaliatory bolts fired from the technologically advanced weaponry of their opponents struck his left shoulder, embedding into the tough skin as he grunted but not penetrating far enough in for their deadly cargo to be unloaded.

Ilentia analysed their foes in the brief stages of the fight where she was able to see them, working out that despite their similarities there was five or six enemy agents railed against them – a pitifully small number of warriors when one considered that even with the numbness of her mind and her uncharacteristic inability to utilise the full extent of her senses she could not intuit that there was any powerful mages or warriors with a high capacity for mana usage amongst them, and whilst it could simply be a part of their strategy for concealing themselves Ilentia doubted it.

That didn't mean that she was going to become complacent, not at all as such a thing suggested that perhaps there was far more to the shadowy assailants than what could be seen and worked at first glance. Such information was not a stunning revelation by any means, but Ilentia did not have any more time to think of the nature of her foes before they were baring down on her. The Welkalite woman banished the thoughts from her mind as a fleeting shadow leapt out of the darkness, brandishing a blade attached to their wrist that arced out of the night towards her.

Vaguely taken aback by such frontal tactics that she hadn't expected from the mysterious League of Thrazek which seemed to have meticulously planned this perfectly right from the beginning, Ilentia blocked the attack with Fire, the person that she assumed was an assassin forced to leap back to avoid being immolated in the backlash of the parry as Fire released flaming power all around it at Ilentia's command, the gloom of night lit up by the flaring orange light which cascaded all around her but was instantly blocked by a wall of solid night which prevented it from illuminating the attackers.

Had Ilentia been a Lucaelian obsessed with the light of their so called holy angels and fixated upon bringing sanctimonious radiance to everything she might have baulked at the dark power which had been utilised to preserve the advantage of the shadows and the espionage of her stealthy foes and been aghast at the notion of fighting within complete darkness (little did Ilentia know that the forces of the Kingdom of Light did that on a regular basis when their White mana was not strong enough to repel the tenebrosity of the abyss that their civilisation was built within), but since she had a sentient piece of the calignosity inside of her she was perfectly fine with fighting for her life within the pitch black darkness of night.

Another rain of bolts came speeding out of the air towards her when the assaulter that she had clashed blades with flipped away from her, but Ilentia was already moving and even though her foes had clearly predicted her path she was still able to avoid the darts. Arrapackxia must have thought she was a fool if he seriously believed that she hadn't noticed the effects that the poison on the splinters had had on him, a demon of the forsaken nether realms and the most unequivocally evil place within the twinned worlds, and made the connection that it would be far more impactful if it was absorbed into her own bloodstream.

She felt a build up of Blue mana in one of the enigmatic and faceless assailants that materialised out of the night, a sapphire glow spiralling around a slender hand that flickered in and out of sight as a Summoning ritual was cast, the azure light doing very little to give away the position of the mage. Ilentia sprang forwards with her swords at the ready for a twin strike, but was forced to dive out of the way as a lance of pure Blue energy split the air that she was stood within, something that she instinctively sensed would do more damage in fraying her already strained mental defences and hindering the production of her mana than hurting her physically.

The Master of Gluttony was not accustomed to fighting those that utilised that type of mana, as although some of the Lucaelians had employed the magic of thought and logic within Usnaan and a select few members of the Resistance had possessed access to the spells of intellect and foresight they had only been minor foes at best. She had never truly fought against anyone from the Yentarian Republic who was well versed in employing the many strange abilities given to them from the repertoire of cold Blue mana at their disposal, and as such this would be a learning experience in the sense that it would open her eyes as to the type of fighting that was undergone by mages of that discipline.

The mana coalesced into a single and sleek form, and a screeching sound was the harbinger of a new Summoning pierced into Ilentia's ears, the noise howling into her mind and becoming amplified by the telepathic entity that was already intruding upon it and being waylaid by her mental defences. The aerodynamic form of a flying creature was formed out of the dazzling shapes of Blue mana that twisted and turned with the potential of possibility before creating the sapphire sinew of a beast that glinted in the moonlight.

It screeched at her again, strangely beaked mouth gaping open as two eerily glowing eyes suffused with an aquamarine radiance beheld her, an aerial predator spying out its prey from the sky. It had two legs held close to its body but levitated above the street and the Summoner who had already retreated back out of sight with long and sinuous wings that looked like they might have once belonged to some form of bird creature but twisted and mutated with a layer of fibrous and fleshy skin morphed over it in place of feathers. It was a weird mutation of a being, one that Ilentia knew would be far more effective than the original Summoning of the mage but one that managed to slightly unnerve her all the same due to its unnatural blend of strangeness and efficient evolution.

It wasn't much that could disturb the Master of Gluttony who had watched the consumptive deprivations of her Order of Passion that she had inherited from the last scion of the Firefist lineage (which had only been brought to power due to Ershun following and supporting Tradax in their usurping of the older Masters of Passion with their newly obtained demonic power), but the sight of the membrane of azure flesh stretched out over the bones of the bird that could be seen beneath it was one of them.

A core of cyan energy at the heart of the raptor pulsated with wisps of mana that Ilentia could tell would be powering the modified Sancturia being with power and enhancing its already augmented functions to an even further degree, gifting it with speed and a magical distorting aura which served to confer it with the same concealment properties that the Summoner and their allies had already deployed. Ilentia could tell that the aerial raptor avian which seemed more like a flying manta ray than any form of bird did not require much magical energy to conjure into the world, and as such the mage responsible for its Summoning would not be hampered much by its destruction or set back by being forced into harnessing the requisite amounts of magic to Re-summon the being.

It screamed at her again, a wave of Blue mana taking the form of the sound and thrumming through the air as it rushed towards Ilentia who was already preoccupied by fending off one of the agents from the League of Thrazek that had launched themselves at her in order to delay her and prevent her from reacting as efficiently.

The assailant had executed a number of hit and run attacks from blending in and out of the night, wielding the mentally altering powers of Blue mana and the shadow manipulating abilities of Black to contort the fabric of the darkness around them and forcing Ilentia to either rush out of position in order to get to grips with them which would expose her to the assaults of the other foes or to endure their attacks in a defensive position so that she could protract the fight until Arrapackxia managed to devour one of them and increase his own power level.

The demon leapt in front of the blow, claws suffused with tenebrous life as it slashed the air around Ilentia, almost startling the woman had she not seen it coming due to the fact that it was a rare sight for her greater demon Summoning to show deference to her and willingly come to her aid, but the adversary from this covert organisation surreptitiously melted back into the shadows before Arrapackxia could split them open.

The demon grunted in a mixture of irritation and angry frustration as a line of splinters struck his chest and large collar bone, though again it did not embed too far into its skin so that the poisons could be released into it. Ilentia used the distraction formed by the demon to spin around and glare at the membranous raptor which screeched at her again as it dove from an awkward angle which would have left her open to attack had the spawn of Sancturia darkness not been at her side and prepared to protect her. The Master of Gluttony did not care what strange modifications the creature had undergone to turn it from an avian organism into what it was now, it would burn in the inferno of hellfire like anything else.

The woman reached into herself, drawing upon the power that she knew she had available and tearing past the misty and numbing mental barriers which the intrusion into her psyche had been systematically placing within her to draw upon the defiant Red mana at her heart. She pointed Fire towards the mutant bird, the edge of the destructive scimitar lit up with a flaming orange light as Ilentia's hand that was gripping the handle of the violent enchanted weapon glowed from within, hellish embers of unholy immolation illuminating the bones and blood vessels within her forearm and hand as the Red mana flowed through her.

She roared as the heat grew in intensity, the Summoning of her enemies choosing not to divert its course as it dove towards her, splitting through the night with a keening shriek of augmented lungs as it did so, the fires of Ilentia's corrupted heart erupting through her hands and engulfing her blade in a conflagration of infernal crimson as it crashed through the air towards the oncoming Sancturia being of Blue mana.

Or at least, that is what should have happened. Instead of enveloping the beast in immolating fire and melting the modified flesh from its enhanced bones, Ilentia felt an unfamiliar and utterly uncomfortable sensation at the back of her mind and near to her heart where she had been generating the Red mana for the spell of consuming flames, one that quenched the fire at its source and momentarily extinguished the inferno within her the second she was about to release it upon the avian mutant, halting it in its final ignition and leaving the Welkalite temporarily bereft of power.

It was as if the trail of power that led from her repository of magical energy that had been fuelling the channelling of fire had been cut or blocked off for a brief moment, the strings of the puppet of blazing combustion which she had used to coax the mana into life snipped by scissors of calm and analytical magic.

The woman who had held the influential position of the Master of Gluttony was certain that a bemused expression in between stupefied confusion and smouldering frustration had plastered itself on her face when all that was launched out of her blade instead of the firestorm of thirsty flames were a few desultory embers that the curved sword coughed out which barely singed the sapphire flesh of the creature which was rushing towards her as they licked at it with unimpressive orange tongues, Fire whining in annoyance at no more power being delivered to it as Ilentia quickly processed her shock and managed to shove it down, the imperative to survive against all the odds once again rising to the forefront of her mind and ensuring that she remained completely focussed on the battle at hand.

The Welkalite was not accustomed to countermagic at all, having never fought against it in the past and having not been in the position to be battling against a potent enough mage (or group of magi) to muster enough Blue mana to cast such things due to the rarity of that sort of magical resonance within the New Empire of Passion, but somehow whilst imagining it that had not been what she had been anticipating. It was equal amounts infuriating and deadly, even moreso in that respect than the shields of protective White mana that the Lucaelian clerics utilised to protect their allies from the storms of near indiscriminately destructive spells flung at them by the Welkalite military because at least then Ilentia could force them into an unfavourable position in not being able to achieve anything else other than delaying the inevitable.

However in this case her magic had merely been cut off for a few moments, the mana wasted and spent without her being able to facilitate anything with it, and now her opponents were capitalising on that brief distraction. Although she factored it into her short term mental strategy the moment that Arrapackxia had mentioned the rivers and main water sources of Kalaan being saturated by Blue mana amongst others, she had anticipated that there would be more warning to it and that she would be able to retract her mana instead of casting the spell if she sensed it coming.

Perhaps it was because her enemies and therefore their mana signatures were concealed by the camouflaging magic that they were employing to great effect and in a normal circumstance Ilentia would be able to see the counter spell coming before it arrived and react to it, or maybe it was down to Ilentia simply being inexperienced in such things and as such unable to register the potential tell tale signs for such a thing. For now it meant that using her mana was a risk that she was unwilling to take.

Ilentia instead raised her blades, conceding to rely upon physical attacks instead of bombardments of magical assaults for the time being as the sleek evolution of a bird swept down on her, wings sheathed in a film of Blue mana which would hinder the production of her own dark energy and prevent her further access to it as it whirled through the air at the Master of Gluttony. The woman's senses were on fire, knowing that there was no way that with the number of her enemies despite Arrapackxia seeming to be able to distract two of them that it would only be the first visible Summoning that would be assaulting her at any single moment – as even without access to her spells the woman could still slay it due to her demoniacally enchanted frame and the spells interwoven into the fabric of her two weapons that naturally bled mana without her having to do anything more than give them a link to her own.

The creature shrieked as it dove down at her, a frigid bolt formed from an unnaturally generated and freezing wind whooshing through the night as Ilentia quickly sidestepped, evading the magical breath. A humanoid form began to materialise out of the shadows around her, one of the four agents of the League of Thrazek specialising in physical combat that the Welkalite had managed to distinguish despite them being identical scything out of the gloom with their serrated wrist blade coated in noxious poisons slicing towards her.

Ilentia quickly responded with both an instinctive blast of shadow as she wielded the darkness around her as an additional weapon with her Black mana that was quickly quenched no sooner as it had begun (which was what she had expected and planned for, and as such had only put enough mana into the attack as would have murdered her current opponent to bait out the countermagic and confirm that the two mages in question which she had seen for a few moments had enough power between them to quickly generated enough mana to use more of the disruptive spells) and a retaliatory strike from her own weapon as she ducked down low and drove it upwards, Malice having whipped round from its defensive position into allowing her to attack again.

The assailant nimbly curved round the thrust of the blade but was forced to belay their own attack in order to survive (showing Ilentia that their current modus operandi was to continued living instead of afflicting the Master of Gluttony with their debilitating poisons and sacrificing themselves for the benefit of their comrades – suggesting that perhaps the venom attached to their melee weapons was not potent enough to incapacitate her and leave her as easy prey for the others (although she would not labour under this assumption as it could easily end in her death if she was too arrogant), or that the agents of the League of Thrazek were not the sort of warriors to want to die in the name of overall victory), leaping back as Ilentia reversed her grip on the sadistic sabre and lashing it across where the assassin had been.

The generous gift of her witch-sight was allowing Ilentia's augmented and crimson eyes to track and follow the agile movements of her opponent to a much greater extent than would have been possible before it despite the fact that her vision had already been post human at that time only minutes ago before the sleeping streets had exploded into violence. To this end, she could still perceive her foe in spite of their attempts to dissolve back into the onyx murk of night and could have grinned in an entirely predatory and malicious had she been so inclined. Following on with her instinct, Ilentia quickly released a rush of flames from her right hand weapon that spontaneously erupted into vivid combustion as the faceless warrior raised their own wrist mounted projectile contraption to launch another spray of poisoned splinters at the Master of Gluttony.

The burning magic melted and then vapourised the most likely metal bolts as it rushed towards the assassin, Ilentia having planned the release to ensure that the enigmatic sorcerers which had already nullified two of her spells at the moment of their inception could not prevent this one from having an affect. Before the fire immolated her current enemy, the human's free left hand was swathed in a bright aquamarine glow which split through the darkness of night for a short moment before being wrapped in coils of swirling Blue mana that engulfed their slender form prior to being concealed by the night once more.

Acting on impulse, the Welkalite sprang forwards, knowing from the past what the magic meant in this circumstance as she had put a similar spell into action herself when utilising the long distance displacement device that the most probably late Master of Wealth, but she was too late and the agent disappeared in a spiralling flash of essence dissipation as her fraternal twin blades hacked through the empty air, ripping through the space that the enemy had been previously occupying before they had vanished with their usage of Blue mana.

Her choler rising at the ability of her foes to perpetually elude her wrath, Ilentia spun around with a gracefully poised twirl on one foot to where her eyes had managed to somehow predict where the enemy would appear out of the teleportation and was about to charge on ahead into it before instinctively pausing herself.

She was met with the two frozen shapes of a mother and son in front of her, dark blue leaking from their open eyes as they were paralysed in the position that they had been before the spell, with the somewhat malnourished young boy that couldn't have been much older than six years of age pointing towards something in the distance, their thin and bruised face lit up with happiness and suffused with a childish enthusiasm that Ilentia had forgotten even existed and made contempt rise within her. The woman was a haggard warrior too thin to be healthy (suggesting that the limited food that she had obtained had been given to the boy that Ilentia assumed was her son) and with her hand on the boy's head, gazing towards the same thing as her child as her own battered features contorted into confusion.

Ilentia didn't care at all what they had been glancing at, only that they were in her way and halting her progression towards the enemy that she had almost punished for assaulting her before they had slipped out of her grasp once again. She would have obliterated the obstruction with her magic (well, maybe not considering the fact that it would most likely be annulled by the manipulative sorcery of her adversaries) or hacked the adult and child to pieces and continued on with her current objective of eliminating these enemies in any other circumstance, but the shimmering shields of mana that were presently flickering with a scintillating orange light as they absorbed the remnants of the blaze that Ilentia had blasted out all around her protected the civilians from her interference and forced her to go around them.

The Master of Gluttony was beginning to discern why the emissaries from the League of Thrazek had entrapped the populace of the city located in the eastern reaches of the New Empire of Passion in this spell of theirs that presumably made it take significant amounts of effort to break and harm them (although she had managed to kill the person that she had taken the keys to a vehicular method of transportation before the spell had fully set in and caused the others' near immunity to damage) – at first Ilentia had been quite perturbed at the notion that they sought to preserve the civilians and not affect their lives in any way as that did not seem like the actions of something that would be seeking her out even if it might have been some form of mysterious inquisition that hunted down the "corrupt and tainted" such as herself (though such a thing was incredibly unlikely anywhere but the Kingdom of Light where it was probably the norm), but now she could see that there was an entirely ulterior rationale for freezing them in time.

The fact that the civilians had been paralysed and unable to act meant that they were obstacles to one confined to ground movement like Ilentia and Arrapackxia when he had not devoured the flesh of a member of mankind, obstructions to her path that could be navigated easily enough around when simply walking in a peaceful situation but were potentially deadly when she was forced to steer clear of them in her manoeuvres and factor them into every action that she took – whereas the agents of the League of Thrazek were free to meld in and out of the shadows to challenge the Master of Gluttony in any manner that they saw fit.

Ilentia held in a scream of frustration when she lost sight of her target, the melee focussed assailant from the Yentarian Republic having blended into the darkness once more now that they had teleported away from their Welkalite target, repressing the expression of her emotions and instead moulding them into a source of more power to pour into her blades and to pre-emptively channel mana in the hope that she would be able to release quickly enough and with sufficient force to overwhelm the countermagic of her foes.

She spun around on instinct, her combat honed reflexes alerting her to the presence of another enemy behind her, and Ilentia glared up at the flying creature that screamed at her as it angled its sleek body to descend towards her at a rapid rate once more.

The Master of Gluttony was suddenly tempted simply to take the reckless dive on the head and carve into the being with her twin swords even as it ripped its augmented beak into her – she could sustain the wounds and keep fighting at near optimum capacity due to her unnatural endurance and resistance to pain -, emphasising the brutality of her preferred method of fighting, but had to push the thought out of the way when she considered that the mutant bird could easily be conjured into existence once again without much expenditure of mana from the mage that it belonged to, and whilst the Welkalite would regenerate at a reasonable pace (a process which was slowed down by the blockages of her mana passageways caused by the numbing telepathy that was spreading its benumbing influence all across the mental pathways within her body connected to her mind) it would still place her in an extremely detrimental and risky position that would allow her attackers to fully harm her in any way that hey chose to.

Ilentia turned on her heels, not bothering to fire off a casual spell as she knew that it would be nullified by the magi who had not yet fully revealed themselves and were most likely remaining as far away as possible from the melee engagement to aid in preserving their own lives so that they could continue to help control the flow of the battle.

She sped off through the maze of frozen people, intending to run to the point where she could utilise her greater demon's strength and power to distract her foes and relieve some of the pressure that was being placed upon her by the near constant shadowy attacks, not wanting to be pinned down in a specific place and be at the mercy of her assailants by the only Summoning which had entered the material plane through the magic of these agents so far in spite of the fact that Ilentia was reasonably certain that she would be able to kill it if it did so and force it to be brought back again if they so desired.

The modified avian dipped and swung through the cool night air towards her, staying just behind her as she fled through the streets and navigated through the statues of motionless individuals which had been clogging the central avenues even at this time of late evening before they had been frozen by the sorcery of her opponents. Ilentia could feel numbing reverberations of power swirling within her head, the effects of the water she had ingested that had been suffused with particles with mana accentuating properties combined with the light of the Sorcerer's Full Moon slowing what would have been blisteringly fast movements without it and causing a strange sort of cold pain within her skull.

It was difficult to elude on foot something that moved by taking to the sky; the finned raptor rose easily over the obstacles of the civilians and warriors of Kalaan that Ilentia had to run around and able to maintain upon a course of motion, constantly forced into checking what was in front of her to avoid crashing into the glimmering fields around the citizens and rebounding off of them, whereas the Sancturia beast could fly over them without any difficultly at all in its screeching pursuit of the Master of Gluttony.

Ilentia dodged a flurry of barbed darts that was launched at her from a shrouded figure located on one of the rooftops of the mutilated buildings of the main avenues which had been scarred by the civil conflict which had taken place only days ago here, the bolts leaving contrails of midnight as they cut through the air and were powered with mana to make them even faster and more deadly than usual – evidently her enemies had decided that such precautions that had a greater chance of revealing them were necessary if they ever were to succeed in combat against a Summoner of her formidable nature.

She rolled underneath the outstretched spear of a lethargic looking guard who had been rubbing his eyes with one grubby hand, though from exhaustion or because of the ubiquitous dust the Welkalite could not tell (nor did she care in the slightest), the bombardment ceasing the moment she did so in order to converse ammunition and not waste it by firing at near impenetrable locations – confirming that at least the non magically specialised agents could not break the barriers around those affected fully by the lullaby spell cast by their peers, which was what the Master of Gluttony had suspected.

Ilentia slid between two more citizens of the slumbering eastern settlement, twisting her body between them after already having tossed her robe aside due to the fact that there was no chance of anyone from the Resistance or the Ja'an Guard noticing her when they were all stuck within unconsciousness. The corrupted albino twirled past another selection of troops, her sixth sense which was somewhat clouded by the interference of the telepath within the group of Yentarians tracking the movement of her demon as well as the low mana Sancturia creature that was chasing her down whenever it became more obvious to see.

She ducked beneath convoys of resource wagons and dashed between hulking krovods halted in their last action and put to sleep by the narcoleptic consequences of the spell cast upon the entire city, but when she emerged on the other side of the processional the howling beast nimbly curved round to meet her and dove straight at her, a pattern of cancelling indigo weaving itself into being around her and halting the progression of the automatic spell that the Master of Gluttony had began to fire back to retaliate against the creature.

Ilentia had the breath knocked out of her as the manta ray-esque being as its beak covered in what were clearly razor sharp but extremely thin spikes arced down to smash into her. The woman raised her fiery sword in her right hand, clamping it between the mutant monster's jawline whilst attempting to pull her other more malevolent scimitar around to eviscerate and disembowel the creature before a trail of shadow flecked with globules of Blue mana wrapped around her wrist and pulled the hand holding the sword down to her side so that she could not respond.

Ilentia was already straining against the sinewy muscles of the Sancturia resident enough so that she could not devote much power to attempting to wrench her arm up past the magical restraints, and snarled back at the beast as its atonal screech made her ears pop with the force of the noise when it snapped down on her blade, though its beak was still wedged shut by the fiery blade. Ilentia tried to course mana through her veins and incinerate the face of the creature, but no sooner had she begun to channel it then it was shut off once more and her magical energy dissipated into the air in a few speckles of fiery red.

Acting on impulse, the woman twisted her head to the side, bolts of opaque black that didn't even glint in the light of the Sorcerer's Moon puncturing the rock of the paving slabs that Ilentia had been knocked onto by the snapping beast. Whilst some of the more reckless Welkalite warriors (or those who had an insatiable hunger for glory and to attain martial prominence, their allies be damned), the Yentarian assaulting her with the ranged weaponry that the assassins were equipped with was evidently at an angle where they could not effectively fire at Ilentia without hitting the Summoning which had crashed into her and was holding her in one place as her muscles strained against its sinewy and membranous flesh – and had concluded that they would much rather refrain from harming both the creature and the Master of Gluttony despite the disposablity of the former and the importance of the latter in facilitating the cessation of this altercation.

It also suggested that perhaps the penetrating power of the missile splinters was not powerful enough to pierce through the aerial raptor and stab into Ilentia, or that the poison would be ejected into the Summoning before reaching her and as such would prove to be ineffectual.

Ilentia banished the thoughts to the back of her mind, knowing that whilst they would be influential in allowing her to obtain victory and were contextually very important they had little relevance to her current predicament of wrestling with a genetically modified creation of the agent sorcerers of the enigmatic League of Thrazek and were not applicable here – and despite the fact that in any other circumstance (other than fighting within her own Mind Realm whilst being relentlessly assaulted by the memories of a life which was not her own) she would have been able to concentrate on both the pathways of intelligent thought in planning out a method of emerging triumphant and the split second reactions required to be an exceptional combatant of her calibre right now in the present the bombardment of implanted thoughts as well as the mental disruptions of the intrusion to her psyche she could only focus her mind upon one, and it was self explanatory as to the option that she chose.

Ilentia spied one of the assassins of the shadowy order materialising once more out of the darkness but at a different angle, and allowed the creature that was bearing down on her to push her further backwards. Her back scraped against the shield of pure mana surrounding the paralysed form of one of the Kalaan krovods, the large beast acting as an ample cover to prevent her being ambushed from behind (even though it was possible that her foes would be able to dive underneath the domesticated creature with the formidable agility that they had displayed earlier), grinding her blade against the small but razor fangs of the raptor that beat at her with its wings that were sheathed in Blue enchantments.

Her left arm was still pinned at her side by the tendril of pure gloom which had snaked around it and was restricting her movements despite her ample resistance to it, and she couldn't move the one holding Fire without the denizen of Sancturia's beak impaling her and tearing her flesh from her bones, somewhat held in place by the fingers of darkness that were grasping at her out of the night and seeking to pull her down into the endless void of oblivion.

She was, to all intents and purposes trapped, but the young Welkalite woman had no fear for herself right at the moment as in spite of the progression of the spell's soporific impact upon her senses and ability to move Ilentia was near certain that she would be able to stave off the predations of the mutant flyer almost indefinitely. Nonetheless, she was still a prime target for any of the agents not dealing with a rampant Arrapackxia should they choose to come out of the shadows that they were concealed within and face her, a target that they could choose to attack at any time because Ilentia wasn't exactly going anywhere.

The Master of Gluttony of the destroyed New Empire of Passion began to build up mana inside of her, mustering up the energies of darkness and flame that were locked within her chest and had been gifted to her through her dark resurrection at the whims of Tradax Yulica but not actively beginning to form any sort of spell with them and as such not giving the magically attuned members of the Yentarian party anything that they could focus upon to countermand apart from her generation of mana which was something that was incredibly difficult to stop, especially with such volatile colours as Ilentia wielded.

That would force them into acting to prevent the simultaneously immolation and annihilation of the raptor (something not utterly adverse to their probability of success) as otherwise Ilentia would then be given free reign to begin bringing the battle under control if she was not stooped, which was exactly what the Welkalite and the greater demon that had recently been fully forced under her dominion wanted.

Whilst eradicating the mutant with a surge of mana that would obliterate the surrounding area wouldn't be too harmful to the chances of the League of Thrazek defeating Ilentia and doing whatever they wanted with her (most likely killing her, though there was a possibility of her capture occurring due to the demon that had tainted her body and soul and wanting to experiment upon a foul creature of the darkness that they may not have had the ability to obtain in the past), leaving her with mana flowing through her veins and at a high power level would make it exceptionally troublesome for the enemy sorcerers to continue with their current strategy of impede her efforts to utilise the full extent of her dark abilities.

Sure enough, the agent that was forming from the wisps of shadow as contrails of midnight bled off of them and revealed their suited form appeared next to her, their blade whipping round into Ilentia's unprotected side as fast as they could manage it and with a blow that was sure to inflict as much damage as possible as it tore through her flesh. Ilentia smiled, a predatory grin that exposed her gleaming white teeth that were covered in the gritty sand of the city, not even bothering to hide her condescending satisfaction at having been able to bait her opponent into exactly what she had planned for.

She hissed in hatred as the human's blade closed in on her with the mutant still pressing her into the back of an oblivious and slumbering Welkalite refugee, her skin scraping numbly against the shield that flared in annoyance at the interference and the contact with another object, a dark blue glow permeating the night and saturating everything in a backwash of deep sapphire flecked with warning notes of inky blackness, mana flaring into life all around her in a snarling release of undirected energy which Ilentia had no intentions of controlling – the Master of Gluttony only began the process to remind her foes what she could do if she was left in this state without one of them intervening to attempt to prevent her, flashes of indiscriminate magic arcing around her and dancing in a haloed corona of coruscating hellish fire around her appearing that did nothing to deter the advance of the agent from the League of Thrazek, just as she predicted.

The assassin moved so fast they were nothing more than a shadowy blur of motion, and Ilentia made sure to narrow her eyes and focus upon her new witch-sight to ensure that she did not get struck by the envenomed weapons of her opponents whilst executing this dangerous manoeuvre, as that would severely slow down her movements and poison her with the same substance that had caused her demon pause and had made him break out in a strange sweat (although he hadn't bothered to warn Ilentia about it herself, probably thinking that if she got herself afflicted by the toxic serum then she deserved to die and wasn't worthy of his help).

The mutated bird was still snapping at her sword, the properties of the membranous flesh the only think preventing Fire from melting its skin and sinew from its bones, and the agent's blade sped through the air like a dark. Ilentia invoked the rules of her dark pact, the vile contract forcing the ugly power inside of her to rear up and making Arrapackxia obey her commands – not that he wasn't already. Ilentia felt the demon's will battling against her own flaming influence before he begrudgingly acceded to her complete control, allowing her to display her dominance as darkness flashed within her molten red eyes. The Master of Gluttony needed the greater demon that she had sacrificed her old cyclops for to be under her command fully, not acting with her imperatives in mind but still doing what he wished for this to work properly, as any minor missteps could end in her death or wounding which she would ideally prefer to avoid if the time came to it.

Arrapackxia roared, still possessed of those functions as Ilentia directed him over, barging past the mysterious warriors that the demon had been tangling with and delaying as he hunted down their mages out of the darkness that he had been born within, and tenebrous tendrils of hatred wrapped around its brutal talons as it sprang forwards.

The enemies from the Yentarian Republic who still had not revealed their motives (perhaps Ilentia would keep one alive and tortuously interrogate them afterwards) were forced to leap out of the way and melt back into the night to avoid being impaled as the demon crashed through the air, its already preternatural speed for its size augmented by aggressive enchantments of Black and Red that it had used Ilentia's mana (with the woman's permission) to cast upon itself by evoking primal and atavistic sources of magic that the sorcerers had obviously been unable to dispel.

The greater demon leapt into the air, utilising the Welkalite mortals that had been trapped within the spell of their foes to propel itself faster – in any normal circumstances the prodigious weight of the demon would have crumpled the humans, crushing them to dust and pulping their internal organs into fine powders of blood and flesh, but with the protection all around them that forced them into an induced unconsciousness and prevented any from interfering with them formed platforms of solid energy that Arrapackxia could utilise to launch itself into the night air.

Arrapackxia's taloned hand locked around the back of the slender throat of the screeching raptor, tearing it away from the Master of Gluttony even as it choked out unnatural ululations that had a strange and freakish cadence to it that could have disturbed Ilentia if she wasn't so focussed on her survival as she span around when she was freed, sighting the enemy with her augmented vision that illuminated them in unholy circles of crimson as the figure's blade cut through the air in front of her.

Ilentia blocked it on the newly released Fire, pouring mana into her left arm and channelling her blend of frustration mixed with anger and a desire to survive above all else, to preserve her life and let nothing stand in her way whilst doing so. She managed to break free from the tendril of shadow which had wrapped itself firmly around her wrist and sunk in spikes of gloom. Thorns in the darkness cast by one of the two mages had burrowed into the flesh of her palm through the gaps in her worn leather gauntlets, but as she wrapped fire and her own darkness around her limbs the woman's inky blood became scorching hot and melted the spells of her foes away.

Malice made a quiet and strange noise of hissing sibilance which the woman quickly realised was an expression of excitement mixed with enjoyment, and spun her blade round in a whirling slash of the scimitar that left contrails of shadow in its wake to deflect the weapon that had been slicing towards her. The blades clashes, sparks shining as the two pieces of metal – one maliciously curved and full of its own sadistic personality, the other only slightly less cruel and barbed with poison but much straighter and not reflective – ground against one another. Supposing that she could do something to keep the sorcerers more occupied and enjoying the sensation of burning within her veins (albeit the fact that it was tarnished somewhat by the numbing resonance still within her skull that she had not been able to cause the expulsion of yet), the woman brought her Black mana to the fore as she pulled Fire round in an arcing strike at the same time, intending to impale her opponent with a lance of darkness that began to coalesce out of the sabre in her left hand. She was not surprised in the slightest when the mana was cut of from its source, the evanescent wisps of blackness scattered to the winds as they were lost within the already near pitch black night. It had not required much mana to cast the spell, but it would most likely have slain the warrior that she was tangled with at the current moment.

Ilentia was beginning to get a taste of the plan that the enemies were employing – to actually attack Ilentia in melee combat they were forced to reveal themselves out of the shrouding concealment magic that had allowed their approach to go near undetected until one of them had willingly showed themselves to the Master of Gluttony (as at this point unless she was caught off guard by an unexpected attack from an angle she had not taken into account (unlikely) she had already proved the range attacks to be ineffectual, as unless they could deliver their deadly cargo into her circulatory system the missiles were small and easily deflected or eluded by one with alacrity and spatial awareness as formidable as hers, thus rendering them near useless at the current moment).

However, apart from the limited protective capabilities their form fitting armour provided the enemy agents were fragile and easily killed if she managed to force them out of position and into her waiting magic, which meant that their mages had to constantly be concentrated upon what Ilentia was doing so that they could counteract whatever non physical actions she might want to take as to safeguard their allies, meaning that whilst the Master of Gluttony could only expend relatively small amounts of mana that only made small dents into her internal repository of magical energy if the enemies were in her general vicinity and were going to attack her instead of fading back into the onyx midnight and force the enemies into thwarting the magic and wasting their own mana in return.

Nonetheless this was still not an efficient way of fighting, as in spite of the reality that Ilentia had a large mana pool power by her hatred, independence and anger that could support the casting of many spells she was still only one mage against two who were evidently powerful enough to sustain several enchantments upon their allies and perhaps be the cause of the narcolepsy which had afflicted the entire city, though Ilentia sincerely doubted that considering such power would have been something that she hoped she would be able to detect if it was originating from the two sorcerers that she could see.

Growths formed from Black mana moulded themselves into place from the night around the back of the greater demon as Arrapackxia endured another storm of bolts from the foes that he had left behind in order to aid his Summoner, magical impacts from the few spells that the mages were casting that did not relate to preventing the actions of their enemies scattered along the demon's back. The beast of the abyss grunted but otherwise did not react to that, nor was he at all fazed by the creature held in one huge hand ripping at him with its beak and slashing with blade like fins.

The Welkalite woman who could have been the last remaining Summoner of her nation with access to one of the demons of the Tempest of Craving associated with unadulterated lust, hedonistic excess and unmitigated greed for pleasure let go of the demon's mind, releasing the mental tether that she had placed around the ravenous creature to make sure that there were no mistakes with her strategy for turning the tables of this fight (as there was no room for error due to how close the assailant from the enigmatic group of her enemies was and the potency of the toxins that their weapons were all coated with) and allowing Arrapackxia to wreak as much havoc as he chose now that one of the opponents who had dared to challenge the Summoner of a greater demon of the other world was desperately out of position.

The demon bellowed and laughed in equal amounts at the defiance, snapping the raptor's cartilage filled throat to the point where even the flexible nature of the mutant could not stop its neck from being broken and its death (before it returned to the Mind Realm of its Summoner to lick its wounds and await its master calling upon it once again).

Arrapackxia cackled again, the haughtiness of its spiteful voice doing nothing to disguise the burning hunger within it that was devouring the demon from the inside and slightly concerning Ilentia as to what risks it might take in securing the meal that it so craved (due to the fact that Blue mages were notorious for being able to forcibly return Summonings back to the mental worlds of their masters through their magic of disrupting their connections to both Sancturia and the source of mana of their Summonings and as such making their forms dissipate because of their inability to be sustained without any mana powering them) as she didn't want to have to waste time and large amounts of effort by bringing him back into the world and she was certain that she could not fight against these foes without the greater demon aiding her.

The broken raptor's head lolled listlessly in the demon's taloned hand, its raucous cries silenced by the strength of the foul being, but before the body was returned back to the Mind Realm of its inscrutable Summoner Arrapackxia, in a mixture of nonchalance and contempt, tossed the corpse of the creature in the direction of the rest of their foes who were cut off from their comrade locked in combat with Ilentia. The membranous form of the Sancturia abnormality enhanced by its Summoner veered sharply and flipped through the air, one of the warriors forced to dodge it before it smashed into the wall with a brutal crack and expulsion of strangely pigmented vitae that did not give off the scent of blood at all. The avian mutant exploded into shards of sinewy mana as it collided with the rough stone of a nearby ruin that was in the process of being reconstructed in the aftermath of the battle for Kalaan, brightening in the night up in a fleeting display of blue effulgence.

Grinning wolfishly, Arrapackxia turned to the warrior that Ilentia was attacking with full force, her blades spinning in an erratic yet elegant storm of curved steel that the agent was hard pressed to deflect and avoid due to how simultaneously random yet graceful the blows were. The assassin fought with a methodology of combat that she had never encountered before; the logical blows and elusive steps of the adversary encapsulated a systematic and disciplined approach to the fight combined into a style that was utterly cold and lacking anything resembling flair or individuality yet despite that was extremely efficient and could adapt to many situations instead of being simply set in its ways and inflexible.

To contrast, Ilentia's own techniques were derived from her mind and did not have any set basis within what little that she had been taught – of course she had trained a rather significant amount in the few days after her infernal resurrection, but she had not spent any time being told how to properly wield the weapons that had belonged to the former Master of Gluttony slain in combat with the two Lucerna princes of the Kingdom of Light (and the current was unequivocally convinced that the blades would not have tasted any blood in that combat as Ershun Firefist would have taken any steps that were necessary to secure a safe position relatively far away from the scions of the enemy royal family whilst his greater demon fought against them).

Her style had been developed from herself alone, having had no prior experience with melee weaponry in her time as Guena (not that she would have known until recently anyway when she had obtained her old memories whilst fighting against Arrapackxia and establishing control once more). She fought how she instinctively felt was right: Malice, being the more precise weapon focussed upon inflicting cruel damage to individual targets, was placed in her left hand due to that being her strongest and most accurate, whereas the more indiscriminate Fire could be wielded easily with her right as it required less distinctness of focus to cause destruction.

It was a battle of what was clearly rigorous and intensive training given to an individual who had been augmented to even greater levels of discipline and effectiveness by their masters and individuality, the lack of any form of direction not obtained internally and the skill created by the will to survive and fight against her foes. Ultimately however, it was a battle that did not matter. The agent twisted away from her, deflecting one wide strike of Fire with a serrated blade attached to their forearm that ground painfully against the violent scimitar, and was forced to slip to one side to dodge a bloodthirsty blow from Malice that would have split them head to toe.

Ilentia had already realised that, cut off and isolated from their allies who were already advancing upon the Welkalite and her demon that were closing in on the one split off from the main group, the enemy she was presently in combat against was attempting to delay her for as long as possible and reach enough distance away from her so that they could morph back into the shadows and escape her reach.

To that end, the Master of Gluttony leapt forwards again, using the perpetual and nearly always reckless aggression that the Welkalite people were famed for to force her opponent into blocking and responding to her twin strikes and making them remain within the dance of clashing blades for much longer than they wanted. Ilentia maintained her state of wariness and caution even if it was heavily subdued by her offensive dynamism, forever looking out for a hail of envenomed splinters and any potential lashing blades out of the shadows that would pierce her and infect her bloodstream with the serum that she did not want to have any experience with.

Her head was still ringing and pounding, the false memories of a day spent in relative inactivity that were individually tailored to each current resident of the eastern centre of commerce flooding into her skull and clouding her higher realms of thought were their imagined visualisations, and the habitual excitement of the battle and the adrenaline it incurred was severely diminished by the invasion of her mind that was growing stronger every moment, the spell's somnolent influence over her increasing in power as the weft of this fight was spun out across the fabric of time.

Arrapackxia reared up beside Ilentia, the demon's grey eyes suffused with a greedy hunger that would never be satiated but could be partly quenched by the flesh of their enemies. Its predator's gaze sighted the mortal that the Master of Gluttony was in combat against, and the spawn of the darkness's nefarious claws ripped forwards, slashing through the air with a speed borne of an unrelenting thirst for blood which made up the essence of the greater demon.

The claws tore into the arm of the assassin who had noticed the threat but had been powerless to defend themselves from it much other than twisting slighting and avoiding being impaled through their faceless helm by the claws. However, they were still not fast enough to escape the strike of the greater demon, and instead of taking the attack where Arrapackxia had intended it to be delivered the agent of the League of Thrazek's awkward manoeuvre forced the brunt of the blow to be inflicted upon their shoulder.

Their whole left arm was sheared off, rich crimson blood with a vaguely unnatural tint fountaining from the stump, but the Thrazeki didn't even react in any noticeable manner to the agony of the dismemberment – not even a hiss of pain emanated from the mask of the warrior, something that Ilentia might have admired if she cared at the moment (and anyway, it wasn't as if not reacting to pain was a sign of strength – it was overcoming the suffering and wielding it to the disadvantage of those who were inflicted it that was true power) – and their twofold retaliatory attack ripped a line of blackness across the demon's huge forearm with their only remaining arm.

The Master of Gluttony evaded a storm of splinters that the enemy seemed to use non of their restraint in launching, obviously aware that there was no escaping death at this point and as such unloaded their full cargo of poisoned bolts upon their foes, but Arrapackxia only laughed as the metal barbs rebounded ineffectually off of the leathery flesh of the demon, the long incision that had been torn into him by the blade closing up in a sickening reknitting of dark flesh woven back together by threads of corruption. It was like trying to stop a desert twister by throwing a few rocks at it: utterly pointless and ultimately achieving absolutely nothing.

The demon laughed as it advanced quickly, seeming to Ilentia that it was simultaneously taking its time to be as terrifying as it could possibly manage and to instil fear into their foes (not that such a thing was inevitable, as if a person didn't react when one of their arms was violently slashed off by the malignant claws of a greater demon then attempting to intimidate them was a futile gesture - though Ilentia knew for a fact that Arrapackxia revelled in the horror of both enemy and ally alike as he was a demon amused by such things) yet moving swiftly as not to provoke any form of punishment from his Summoner and to not allow for his prey to escape him.

He raised one clawed hand, blood still spurting into the air from the ruin of the Yentarian's arm and covering the cracked pavements in claret fluid that mingled with the dried gore which had yet to be swept away by those tasked with repairing the city of Kalaan (as there were much more important things to cater to), intending to wrap it around the mortal so that he could take a juicy bite out of it, the demon's nostrils flaring with the sweet scent of blood that was just as intoxicating as the aroma of fear that he wasn't perceiving from the human who remained standing in the same combat ready posture as before whereas others would have fallen to the floor from the agony wracking their fragile forms and the loss of blood and a limb. The rain of darts dried up, though the foe still maintained their position, knowing that there was no way they could escape, and seemed apathetic towards their own fate.

Just as Arrapackxia's hand reached forwards, Ilentia detected a surge of malefic Black mana from behind the agent and narrowed her eyes as an eruption of shadow and gloom enveloped the Yentarian assassin. Their suit of armour instantly melted away through the entropic magic that had been cast upon them, degrading at an extremely fast rate and revealing a pale woman underneath who glared rather impassively at the Master of Gluttony before her flesh sloughed away from her bones, the deathly energy passing through her ripping away layers of her skin until it exposed the musculature of her face underneath – and even that blackened and poured away in liquid form as the unnatural rot took hold, her skeleton putrefying and ageing into dust within a time span of less than as second.

Arrapackxia's talons passed through the decayed mess of the assailant, the agent's body crumbling away like festered sand before the demon could get to grips with her and sustain himself upon her flesh. Ilentia quickly pulled away her eyes from her greater demon – whose own grey orbs flashed with a hatred spawned from being denied of the chance to slake the eternal voraciousness that defined the damned creature – and angled her gaze towards the focal point of the origination of magic that she sensed.

Her eyes augmented by the witch-sight locked on to a lean, ghostlike figure that became visible for a second, an Ilentia got the impression that they were almost taunting her despite doing little that could be insinuated as that. She glowered up at one of the two mages, their armour as black as pitch and their covered arms and gauntlets that were etched in arcane sigils which the Master of Gluttony was positive she hadn't laid her eyes upon before and were infused with a dark illuminescence which radiated Black mana – the source of the spell.

The demon next to her opened its mouth wide and howled in the mixture of a terrifying roar and a scream at having its prey denied, a bellowing peal of utter loathing mixed in with inflections of a vile lust for the pure pleasure derived from inflicting death and feasting upon the flesh of other living beings, but without the swell of power that would have come with Arrapackxia's feeding the greater demon's volume was not exactly impressive to Ilentia, who had heard it to the point where it would have nearly ruptured her ear drums if not for her demoniacally augmented form.

It was the culmination of its pining for the substance of mortals, the zenith of its wanton rage at having its desires denied to it by the machinations of its foes made manifest within the demon's voice, but if the Thrazeki agents were perturbed then there was no sign of it, a notion exacerbated by the masks that concealed any fearful expressions they might have been wearing. Most likely they would know that the demon expressing its anger would not be detrimental too them and that in this form Arrapackxia was all bark and little to no bite.

"Someone has done their research," the ravenous creature spat derisively, the undertone of eternal hunger much more than just that now as he stalked forwards, the degraded corpse of the first opponent to die completely gone now that the putrefaction had fully set in and their form had decomposed. The same mage that had left the cover of the darkness to be near fully visible to them (only the shroud of magic still remained around them which kept their figure indistinct) pulled up waves of coalescing Blue mana around their palms, the strange symbols that had flared into life on their black vambraces shifting and metamorphosing into a new pattern underneath Ilentia's gaze, one that did not ooze entropy and plague but instead represented something akin to deception and misdirection – or at least according to the Master of Gluttony's witch-sight, as without that Ilentia was sure that she would have no ideas as to the nature of the mana that was being channelled.

An interlocking matrix of Blue mana was etched into the air in front of them, spinning beams of sapphire light that danced and twirled into one another before Ilentia's eyes, alerting her to the fact that this mage was not the one who had created the raptor Arrapackxia had brutally ended the physical existence of as they were Summoning in a manner much dissimilar to the conjuration ritual of the mutant avian. Like individual threads of fabric, the strands of energy exhibiting the tenets of duplicity and guile were wrapped into one another, woven together like a puppet of Blue mana as they began to be gifted with form and substance, obtaining a physical state of matter instead of remaining within an ethereal form.

Arrapackxia gnashed his wickedly sharp teeth together in a volatile combination of frustration and desperation, leaping forwards before Ilentia could order him herself. The three remaining warrior enemies detached themselves from the concealment that the midnight provided, revealing themselves under the auspicious light of the moon and becoming vague and ghostly in shape as they surged towards the demon and her currently stationary Summoner in a blur of nimble motion.

The Master of Gluttony knew well that it was a delaying tactic, and was still subconsciously trying to process the ramifications of the mage who was Summoning now murdering their own comrade just to prevent the demon from sinking his malicious teeth into the woman who had seemed rather nonplussed at her fate – it all but confirmed that the six had been sent to apprehend, capture or kill the Welkalite woman, and that they had access to information concerning Ilentia's method of fighting and Arrapackxia's dependence upon mortal flesh to unlock his full potential.

Whether or not those who had ordered this to happen had assigned the two sorcerers to the group in order to fully counteract Ilentia's abilities and nullify her defiance or had simply been the closest of the agents of the most enigmatic League of Thought, was, like much of the nature of the clandestine organisation, a complete mystery to the woman, but she soon smothered the thoughts once more. It was the influence within her head that was refusing to be dislodged until she escaped the affliction of the lethargy inducing spell that was interfering with her normally focussed thought patterns, pulling them into introspection and higher realms of consideration that she would not be able to sustain as to distract her further and facilitate the creation of an opening for her enemies to strike.

Nonetheless, although the fact that Arrapackxia was still starving for meat meant that the ravenous demon would be more inclined towards aggressiveness instead of wasting precious time in attempting to intimidate their foes (a tactic which, for whatever reason, had clearly not worked, indicating that the regime that the warrior were trained by had evidently removed all forms of emotions and allowed them to be completely unconcerned by a greater demon of the nether realms), the hunger of the demon was affecting her ability to sustain him. Arrapackxia had never been Summoned into reality for Ilentia's use and gone such a lengthy amount of time without his feast of flesh before this, and as such without that increase of power that Ilentia received in tandem with her Summoning the Master of Gluttony was experience the strain upon her mana pool much more keenly than ever before – a problem further compounded by the intrusion within her and the particles of foreign mana that had been ingested in the water she had drunk to hydrate herself.

However, becoming agitated would not achieve anything, so Ilentia scolded herself as she watched the three agents dance around her near frenzied demon, dodging its taloned strikes that left swathes of taint in their wake and peppering the beast with their bolts of poison – most likely hoping that they would get a lucky strike and maybe hamper the demon's movements. She raised her right sword, placing some mana within it and willing to test her enemies' capability to render her spells null when one of them was in the throes of a Summoning ritual that was nearing completion, but instead of the other mage revealing themselves the one that was forming their own Sancturia creature out of the fabric of their magic switched position, their gauntleted fingers bending and flexing as they manipulated the essence of their mana in such a way that Ilentia's witch-sight informed her that would be optimum for countering her own spells.

The magic began to take shape and assume a form, a strange creature of liquid quicksilver emerging from the fusing links of mana with no discernible features other than an amorphous set of sweeping tentacles composed of the cryptoplasmic substance that made up the rest of the being. It rippled, shimmering in the light of the moon as it slithered across the ground, rivulets of a metallic liquid spilling off of it and splashing on the ground before being pulled by a gravitational influence back into the creature.

Its supple movements were contrasted by the occasional spasms it underwent, wavelets of motion cascading across it and making the being appear like an endlessly undulating and animated pond of liquefied metal – but instead of being the heavy and thick molten substance that was wielded by some of the New Empire of Passion's ferromancers who specialised in casting spells that manipulated superheated metals, this seemed more like water that was encased in a film of thin metal and behaved as a much lighter liquid than any molten material would.

The woman could pick out the individual droplets that were pooled together to make up the substance of the creature, each one of them rippling and vibrating to the tune of some unknown melody, and Ilentia narrowed her eyes as the nebulous creation of Sancturia that she had never witnessed or even heard of before began to shimmer and crease like the tranquil surface of a still lake disturbed by a pebble being skimmed along its length. The glistening creation turned, each droplet moving in its own way to alter the structure of the being as Ilentia watched, still with the need to do battle imprinted into her mind but willing to pause to see what her enemies were doing before rushing into the fray. If she had any reason to suspect that throwing herself at her foes would delay whatever the newest Summoning was doing or somehow impair the tactics that her assailants were putting into action then the Master of Gluttony would have done, but for now she was content to watch and react accordingly.

Each independent droplet was an entity unto itself, individually motivated by an autonomous muscle structure contained within the interior of the globules. Yet each separate bead worked in tandem with the others as the creature shifted and altered its form, behaving like a shoal of burnished fish when they stirred or switched direction, the moonlight refracting off of them scintillating like the scales of said aquatic swarm.

The bizarre creation that was twisting in and out of itself began to become more defined, its unstructured shape starting to morph into something more solid than liquid, its flesh taking on a pale hue that was all to familiar to the Master of Gluttony as she watched with no small amounts of trepidation mixed with hints of curiosity as to the nature of the Summoning.

Arrapackxia's almost desperate roars faded into the background of her mind, only remaining as a footnote so that the Welkalite could continue to mentally track the position of her Summoning, as she watched the shifting skin of the being change into something far more lymphatic and ghastly, sigils of dark resonance imprinting themselves upon its vibrating musculature before being erased as the skin underneath it underwent its transformation.

Large claws dripping with abyssal toxins pierced out of tendrils that had spun around each other and paled into white limbs and formed large fingers, a mirror of those that were being swept through the air in pursuit of shadowy agents that danced around the greater demon in their midst. Bony horns like the antlers of a false deity of nature corrupted from within by the taint of darkness and gluttonous craving rose up into the air as the shape shifter brought itself to new elevation by rising to its new full height, and Ilentia sensed a build up of polluted Black mana that had not been there previously explode into existence as she stared into the half-formed face of a creature that she was intimately accustomed to seeing now.

The rippling iridescence of the scales refracting the lunar light of the Sorcerer's Full Moon did nothing to quench the malicious darkness that was emanated from every pore of the Summoning now that it had almost completed its new transfiguration, and as the scintillating metallic liquid slotted neatly into place within the spherical spaces of the ashen eyelids, morphing into themselves to form orbs of pure hunger and atavistic lust, Ilentia found herself staring into the face of Arrapackxia once again – the face of the greater demon impersonated perfectly by the mimicking creature that had been conjured by her assailants.

It was exactly the same as the ravenous demon, the hunched and predatory posture it had assumed a perfect mimic of Arrapackxia's own before they had both risen to their full height, every detail exact right down to the smallest units of conceivable measurement. Even the brand of subservience that Ilentia had seared into the forehead of her rebellious Summoning a few hours earlier when she had been within her Mind Realm was replicated to precise specifications, and from appearance alone if the Welkalite woman did not have an intuitive connection to her own Summoning she might have been fooled by it.

If its mana pool was anything to go by then it would possess the same abilities as the unfed and therefore fettered Summoning of the Master of Gluttony, and as Ilentia stared into its grey eyes she felt the same mixture of revulsion and primal apprehensiveness that she had become used to from gazing at her own greater demon – it was not quite fear, as Ilentia refused to believed that she felt fear towards anything at all, but it was the same instinctual shadow of dread that flickered within her which could not be suppressed whenever she looked upon the maleficent visage of a lord of the realms of hell.

The irrepressible thirst for the flesh and blood of mortal beings as well as that longing to gorge upon the banquets of their souls were both present in the cryptoplasmic being's imitation of Arrapackxia's eyes, and Ilentia was certain that she could sense the same age old enmity seeping out from the grey orbs of the false demon. Instead of reacting as Ilentia would have expected, a combination of roars of challenge and cries of outrage, Arrapackxia's frenzied howls ceased as he let the warriors that he had been hounding in an attempt to catch out one of them and feast upon them escape unharmed, sizing up the clone of himself and barking out a haughty laugh at the antics of their foes.

"Oh my, I am truly a handsome devil!" he chuckled, full of the dark mirth that perpetuated throughout his malevolent and arrogant species, stroking his pale chin with taloned fingers as he regarded the shapeshifter with no small amount of amusement as it growled back at him with a perfect rendition of the demon's anger and hostility. Arrapackxia smirked, the underlying flecks of insatiable hunger twisting the demon's smile into something even more malicious as its eyes swivelled in their sockets, taking in the other Summoning which had assumed his form and then turning back to the mage who had conjured it into existence.

I presume that you can take care of that pathetic impression of me yourself whilst I either eliminate the Summoner or devour the other agents sent to battle against us? The demon's words pierced into her mind, the pain of the mental connection with such a vile being simultaneously disgusting and inciting revulsion within the Master of Gluttony but also something that she was grateful for, as the invasion into her psyche was clouding her thoughts and the lancing agony of the demon's spiteful words (whether or not Arrapackxia was aware of the torment communicating with its Summoner was irrelevant) served to somewhat pierce through the mental fog which was saturating her inner psyche.

Ilentia repressed the automatic motion of nodding to the demon, which would not have been picked up by the beast of the abyss considering it wasn't even looking in her direction, instead replying with a mental message of confirmation which would have amounted to a simple grunt of affirmation had it been done physically.

Arrapackxia was correct in suggesting that course of action to the Welkalite, as Ilentia knew that because of the fact that the shape shifting Summoning had the same power level as her demon they would be roughly equal in strength and as such would fight until a standstill without anything major occurring – the spawn of darkness's might would be cancelled out by the newly obtained power of the transmogrifying being, and although Arrapackxia was obviously more familiar with his own abilities and would most likely be able to turn the tide in his own favour (unless the cryptoplasm copied the thoughts of the Master of Gluttony's Summoning also and as such could calculate the optimum method of utilising abilities) it would take too long and did not take into account the fact that the emissaries of the League of Thrazek outnumbered Ilentia five to one, assuming that there were no others – as the presence within her thoughts was not explained by the two sorcerers she had already faced.

Additionally, without the power burst that was derived from the ravenous demon feasting upon flesh and rising in strength combined with the affects of the unnatural substances that she had ingested Ilentia was struggling to maintain the demon in its current form, and because of the Sancturia based nature of the doppelgänger which had taken the form of her demon Arrapackxia wouldn't achieve anything by devouring its essence.

The enemy demon which wasn't a true demon at all turned from Arrapackxia towards the Master of Gluttony, evidently it or its Summoner having assessed her as the true threat that couldn't be simply taken down by the minor agents – a conclusion most likely arrived at as a result of their lack of success in coming anywhere close to eliminating her so far – and requiring more brutal power to slay. She bared her teeth to the creature, glad that it was wearing the face of something that she despised so that she could better channel her hatred towards it, and lazily spun both of her hankering blades in languid circles baiting the creature to attack.

The other warriors had faded back into the night once more, but the imitation of Ilentia's demon did not have the same ability to flee from the Welkalite and her Sancturia thrall, so it stood in the centre of a group of refugees who had been warily navigating around one another, the tension that must have filled the air before night had fallen now replaced by something altogether much more palpable. Arrapackxia sniffed the air, watching as the being which had taken his form loped towards Ilentia in exactly the manner that he would do so himself if wishing to assault the Master of Gluttony.

It might have been interesting to see which one of the two would prevail without the binding of their Infernal Bargain skewing the odds in the Summoner's favour, but there would be no time for that as the demon suddenly found itself beset on all sides by shadowy assailants and their magical leaders flinging a bombardment of spells at him.

Ilentia rushed forwards, hoping that the sorcerers would be too distracted with Arrapackxia to counter any of her magic but not willing to presume that such a thing would be the case, and used the pulsing reverberations of mental numbness within her mind to fuel further anger, a searing gout of flame pouring out of Fire as it was angled against the demon mimic. Arrapackxia's clone snarled at her, the demon's conceit and scorn of her magic oozing out of the primal noise, pivoting and batting the torrent of hellfire aside with a leathery and pale limb, claws slicing through the malicious orange of the assault and leaving pure night in their wake, gouges of black into the sea of infernal heat.

It lurched forwards, moving in a way that was extremely reminiscent of the offensive manoeuvres that Arrapackxia used to close in on his enemies with a burst of speed that should not have been expected by them, a sharding bolt of darkness hacking through the air that Ilentia had to leap to one side to dodge as it tore a great rent into the ground on which she had been stood. The talons of the false demon slashed round, Ilentia blocking them with her crossed blades and hissing in frustration when her attempt at releasing a wave of darkness intertwined with fire was met with failure and halted just as the mana was expended from her. The woman's shoes scraped along the ground as she was pushed backwards, desperately attempting to use her enhanced strength to divert the force of the shapeshifter's blow away from herself as it was pressed down on her, wishing to deflect the attack elsewhere instead of taking the brunt of it on her two swords and significantly straining her muscles, but it could not be avoided at the moment.

A rain of splinters coming from one of the agents tangling with Arrapackxia as they tried to contain the rampaging demon almost caught the Master of Gluttony off guard, and it was in the split second before they would have impacted into her lower hip that she pulled away from the demon in a spray of sparks, evading the envenomed bolts but exposing herself to a further attack from the demon.

The blow slammed into her side, violently flipping her over as the talons ripped into her skin, lacerations streaming with her polluted inky blood gouged into life as the cuts were torn into her. Ilentia hissed in pain as she twisted her body mid air, but she had already decided upon this course of action and had prepared herself for the jolts of agony that had delivered.

She had encountered the corruption which ensorcelled the demon's claws before, and knew that she would be able to purge them from her bloodstream and regenerate the wounds that had been caused to her soon enough, but the toxins of the bolts launched at her by her enemies were far more deadly and an unknown to the Welkalite. She couldn't take any chances like that, not now, and even though the overall wounding which was caused by the swipe that had torn great rents into her lower abdomen that would eventually seal up it was still better than being afflicted by the poison of her foes.

Ilentia writhed in pain for a single moment before twisting within the air, attempting to get herself further away from the unreal demon before it could strike again and make her an even more difficult target to track for those agents not overtly occupied by her own Summoning and manipulating her vaguely aerodynamic form so that she could do so. Another blow from the clone of her greater demon almost tore into her chest as she span through the air, scything through the night as she landed, poised and feline for a short moment before staggering backwards in pain, hurt.

The aerial acrobatics had cost her despite Ilentia being far more resilient than any normal human and able to perform the elusive somersaults to avoid the attacks launched her way by the replication of her demon, the wounds that she had suffered not sealing up and regenerating within the effects of her dark vitality as fast as she was used to because of the effort it required to maintain her ability to think coherently and clearly assess the battle with the intrusion into her mind. Nevertheless, her inky black blood that blotted her clothing with a tar-esque substance began coagulating almost immediately over the tears in her waist and abdomen inflicted by the shapeshifter's claws.

It roared at her once more as it closed in, not deigning to use words and thus not revealing to the Master of Gluttony whether the clone of her demon had the capability to communicate in anything other than guttural barks and primal howls of hatred so pure yet corrupt that Ilentia was half convinced that the creature would be unable to shift back into its original misshapen and quicksilver form now that it had experienced the fell loathing of a greater demon from the realms of Sancturia's hells.

An extremely sharp blade rammed into Arrapackxia's back as he pursued one of the tactically retreating assassins of the most mysterious sect of the Yentarian Republic known to him, and the ravenous demon roared in pain as the weapon ensorcelled by magical enchantments that conferred highly piercing characteristics upon it sliced through his leathery flesh and penetrated to the bone, scraping along the hard substance that made up the skeleton of the demon.

Had the spawn of the nether realm's dark nurseries been a mere mortal, or another pathetic being which took damage easily, the starving Summoning of the Master of Gluttony might have been thrust into a paraplegic state for the remainder of its existence (or until it was returned to the Mind Realm of its Summoner or could undergo some form of hellish rejuvenation), but since Arrapackxia was a greater demon (and a true one, not a runt sibling or cousin of the edacious fiend that proclaimed to be one but would only be classified as a lessor demon (if there was such a thing, because even the most minor demon still commanded power rivalling any angel hailing from the reviled Second Sisterhood) by the demonologists of the mortal world) the only effect that the attack had on him was to simultaneously cause him large amounts of pain and incense him even further – his unholy body having already internally manufactured a foul cure for the venomous serums coating every conceivable weapon of his and his Summoner's newest and present enemies.

The blade was wrenched agonisingly against the interlocking bones of the demon's spine, grinding against them as it was twisted in order to inflict as much damage as possible, and Arrapackxia spun around, swinging his claws in a lethal and vicious arc around him.

Had he been well fed and at the height of his power (something that was in fact possible when tethered to Ilentia despite his subservience to her, as the tenets of their Infernal Bargain (which he had been forced unwilling into by the meddling of the dead Master of Rapture and his foolish brother Carramoshk whose life had also been severed by their godlike and rapturous progenitor which had in turn been slain by the Summoner of the Angel of the Black Sun whom Arrapackxia had encountered only once before and had been terrified of even if he would never admit to the snaking tendrils of dread which had wrapped around his blackened and blighted heart in the presence of the seraph of darkness and light, a mesh of two opposite forces which should never have existed) allowed the bound demon to utilise the full extent of their abilities at the expense of their Summoner's mana – if they were not strong enough to control the being they had dragged up from Sancturia's abyss then they deserved their fate) Arrapackxia would have found the attempts of the enemies to damage him amusing at most.

Now, malnourished, lacking the sacrament of his sustenance and aching to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of a human and feast upon the delicacy of their blood (he was not picky like some of his little brothers as to the nature of that blood, finding little difference between the innocent vitae of a virgin child that had never harmed a soul in its virtuous existence and the ichor circulating through the veins of the most foul and debased murderer), Arrapackxia feared that perhaps the blows dealt by the mere humans dancing around him would end in the doom of both himself and the Summoner that he had been shackled to the longest (every other had been murdered by himself so that he could return to the murderous and base pleasures of his hunting grounds).

The reactionary strike didn't hit anything, indeed there seemed to be nothing behind Arrapackxia at all, though the being of the other realm knew that not to be the case. The customary adrenaline and excitement of fighting against mortal birthed from the sweet nectar of their terror and their hilarious attempts to hold him off or even defeat him was soured heavily by the irritating tactics employed by these current foes.

They were akin to a swarm of wasps or mosquitoes, perpetually hovering at a sufficient distance to avoid retaliation and diving in to sting or bite whenever the attention span of the demon waned or he was focussed on killing another of their group. The wounds caused by them were not the causation of much individual damage per se, little more than major sources of irritation, but when combined together and coupled with Arrapackxia's lack of nourishment they could eventually becoming intensely detrimental and could force the demon back into the Mind Realm of Ilentia – an act which would indisputably end in her defeat.

The greater demon longed to swat them aside, wrap his large hands around them and crush the life from their frail bodies after ripping them apart with his fangs and have their blood (which seemed to have a strange chemical tang to it indicating that their suits filled them with drugs that allowed them to exceed normal human limitations in their agility, endurance and lack of fear) dripping from his mouth.

To that end, he reared up, turning his head back and forth as he scanned the shifting shadows of night around him. It belatedly occurred to him that not only did the emissaries of the League of Thrazek bend the darkness around them in their approach to conceal themselves but had also augmented the impenetrable blackness of the gloom to higher levels than would usually be possible through the distortion inducing sorcery of Blue and Black mana amplified by the swollen eye of the Sorcerer's Moon – but done without the usual nefarious influence of sections of the abyss overlaying onto the material world more prominently than in normal locations (an effect exhibited by the perpetual shade of the hated Kingdom of Light or the unnatural darkness of Usnaan when the Lord of Riots's Tempest of Craving had been roiling above it) which the demon would have been able to sense.

No matter. It still would not stop him from finding them, it would not stop him from hunting down each and every last one of them and feasting upon their broken corpses as they mewled in terror at his inexorable and inevitable approach, their bloody doom epitomised by Arrapackxia. The demon narrowed the grey pits of pure lust for the meat of human beings which served it as eyes as its demonic gaze pierced through the darkness, locating the reflective black suits of his foes and honing in upon their essence, upon the tiny fluctuations of the air in front of them as they exhaled and the vibrations of their thudding hearts.

In spite of the fact that the espionage highlighted by their assailants from the League of Thrazek was exceptional, that the warriors and two sorcerers who had come to fight against the Master of Gluttony and her contracted demon seemed to suppress all notions of fear, of any form of emotion that could compromise their fighting ability, they could not repress the very things that made them living creatures: their need to breathe, their need for fresh blood containing vital oxygen and nutrients essential for the production of energy to circulate around their body and supply it with the constituents for continued life.

No matter how augmented and enhanced they were, no matter what strange substances they ingested which would still their hearts for seconds at a time and still allow them to function at maximal capacity, prevent the need for large amounts of breathing despite expending large amounts of energy that would have others of their race keeling over and unable to act in any way other than panting for air, no matter what magics they cast that concealed their life essences and the signatures of their emotions, they were still living, breathing human beings at the core.

And that would be their downfall.

Arrapackxia sent a blunt and brusque mental command to the Welkalite woman who was currently his Summoner, having deduced that the "strategy" (if their tactics could be labelled under such a term) which they were labouring under now was not working in any sense of the word; the greater demon could occasionally view the mortal he was constrained to when she was struggling against the copy of himself that roared and growled at her with a perfect rendition of his own frenzied hunger but one that did not reflect the sheer need for sacrilegious sustenance which burned within Arrapackxia's breast.

He hid a smirk which automatically creased his lips in the split second before he could prevent it at his Summoner wincing in pain at the mental message – Arrapackxia was nothing if not utterly insensitive to the torment of Ilentia and any psychic communication between the two through their infernal link was agonising for the woman – turning back to where he could faintly perceive his foes circling around him, hoping to trap him amongst them and banish him back to the Mind Realm of Ilentia so that they could focus all of their efforts upon her.

I would like to see them try it.

There was no possible way that the melee soldiers of the Yentarian Republic's most enigmatic order would be able to achieve such a goal alone, that much was obvious and had already been established. They could wound him, yes, they could severely impede his ability to aid his Summoner in this moonlit encounter, but without the magic of a potent sorcerer aiding them they were simply not powerful enough to eliminate the ravenous demon, not with Ilentia remaining able to sustain him for now. However, with a well placed blow from a stealthy magic wielder the task of dispelling the essence of Arrapackxia was much more easy to enact.

That in turn would require the mage in question to reveal themselves from the shadows so that their ritual spells could be wielded to their full effect without having to undertake the labourious procedure of maintaining the concealment enchantments shrouding the assassins, as otherwise the magic would not be potent enough to dent the unnatural shielding of the greater demon which made it resistant to petty magics and weak spells due to its hellish heritage.

Added to the fact that the lineage of Rakdos the Defiler (a family tree which included Arrapackxia, and while the demon would in any usual circumstance not give a care about the precise identity of other demons it was related to more closely than others) had an inherent protection from the meddling spells of their foes that would serve to attempt to suppress and counteract their eternal desires for forbidden carnality, to detain them in their psychotic rages and prevent them from experiencing the dark emotion of their sinful passions in all of its glory, the two Summoners of the squadron of their enemies would definitely be forced to come into the light of the moon to use sorcery that would have any effect upon the insatiable demon.

He could somewhat perceive where the mages well, as they registered more prominently in his senses due to the fact that they had mana within them and were Summoners, but they lingered at the edges of his perception and constantly endeavoured to remain within the peripherals of his vision. Arrapackxia could smell their scent, the cold and flavourless aroma of their Blue mana tinged with darkness and life intertwined in a strange pattern of Black and Green energy respectively, although the latter was only present in extremely small amounts due to the biological modifications that their Sancturia creatures had undergone.

To this end, he did not directly stare at any of his foes, blocking out their presences within his mind so that the idea that he did not have any inkling of their locations was further reinforced while he sensed them forming up around him for a new attack.

He needed them out in the open, and that was where Ilentia came into his plan.

The Master of Gluttony nodded in acquiescence of the sudden alteration of the strategy, staring up at the shifting demon which gazed back down at her, a snaking tongue flicking out between wickedly pointed teeth and tasting the air in front of it with the new senses it had acquired after assuming this new form – though if it sought to lap up any form of fear from the air then it would be severely disappointed; Ilentia had fought this demon before (albeit when it had belonged to her and was bound by the profane bindings of their contract) and knew exactly how it was nothing to be feared – only something to be wary of.

She slowly stepped round an aged man frozen in mid step, his leg raised into the air, reading to plod down onto the next paving stone before he had been locked within the spell which had swept through the entire city of Kalaan.

The moon's dusty ring of lunar radiance became brighter and more coloured, the impassive silver glow that usually suffused the cold orb shining with more of a sickly and pale green mixed in with deep ocean darkness that shone down on the combatants below.

Her posture was tense, her muscles tight and ready to burst into action, and although she gave off the impression that she was in full control of the situation, preserving the illusion that Ilentia was fighting at near optimum capacity and had a clear plan in mind for defeating the doppelgänger of her own greater demon, in reality her thoughts were scrambled by the shaking presence within her head. The Welkalite was finding it increasingly more difficult to link ideas and facts together in more, her functions of higher reasoning nearly utterly abandoned in the face of the psychic intrusion and the flood of false memories which would be afflicting all those in the eastern city under the influence of the Sorcerer's Moon burying her more advanced thoughts over the implications of the different skills available to her assailants and how they could apply them to this battle – or indeed how she could apply her own to it.

Even though it was adverse with what she had thought ever since the Infernal Bargain after her dark resurrection had been initiated, Ilentia was somewhat glad that her greater demon was taking charge with regards to her safety, as while Arrapackxia was a vile beast that she despised he was still intelligent and cunning and could easily lead them to victory given the chance – and now that she had instilled him with begrudging respect and the imperative to serve her (or suffer the consequences of the branding backfiring and marking him even more prominently, perhaps even crippling the abyssal creature) she did not have to fear betrayal as much as she had been cautious of it before.

No, despite not being able to think clearly and having a numbing drumbeat endlessly echoing throughout her skull Ilentia could still follow commands (that sense ingrained into her ever since she had been brought back to life by the Master of Rapture), and her instincts for survival and bloodshed were as potent as ever. The demon replica cocked its head to one side, an almost quizzical tinge entering its grey eyes, and had the Master of Gluttony been able to think properly she would have noted that because there was no way she was going to be deceived with relation to the identity of her own Summoning the shapeshifter occasionally acted strangely in its new form.

She grasped onto the intense loathing that still burned within her chest, the smouldering hatred of all those that would try to end her new freedom aflame inside of her (the intrusion of her foes and their narcoleptic magic doing nothing to extinguish the source of her power), Fire lighting up once more with hellfire in preparation to release a spell of great magnitude. Malice dripped with tenebrosity in her left hand as the woman gracefully stepped in between a group of frozen men and women, her eyes and newly obtained witch-sight fixated upon the clone of Arrapackxia that stared her down, stepping forwards itself and cracking an already damaged paving stone underneath its prodigious weight.

She knew that the time for enacting this new strategy would come soon, and she was intending to manipulate the false demon into a perfect position for it to be put into practice. The woman's twin blades hissed, each noise blending together in a background cacophony of bloodthirst and an unquenchable desire for violence in its two main forms, both of them a twisted reflection of the same addiction to inflicting pain and destruction.

She walked slowly away from the location of her own Summoning, pulling the fake demon back with her as she clutched her side, not allowing them to see that it was already sealed and that no fresh inky blood was pouring out from the gaps between her fingers, moving like a taut string and exaggerating the pain that she was in. The shapeshifter followed her, loping between the ranks of paralysed citizens and warriors of Kalaan, probably under the misconception that she was attempting to increase the distance between them so that she could heal.

The demon's words tortuously laced into her mind, a string of commands that masqueraded as a shadowy pathway throughout the fog that Ilentia followed, her body acceding to the wishes of Arrapackxia. She waited for his message, the confirmation that she could progress onto the next stage, and after a few seconds it was given.

Ilentia flicked out her wrist, blindingly fast and with the alacrity that she had unknowingly become infamous for within the New Empire of Passion (as she had not left enough alive out of the Lucaelian group she had tangled within in the Glutton's Quarter of Usnaan for her to become known well within the legions of the Kingdom of Light). Malice was launched from her hand, lancing through the air like an enlarged version of one of the splinters fired from the wrist mounted weapons of the Thrazekis, and the demon automatically turned to bat it away, not wanting to have the chance of the blade piercing into its skin and the possibility of the darkness present in the scimitar being deposited within it.

She reclaimed the blade quickly, a tendril of shadow bending forth from the night under her will and wrapping around the jet inlaid handle of the sabre as another swift (although not blistering, as her manipulation of the darkness could never quite be as fast as her own movements) strike thudded into the demon that was still closing in on her despite the distraction.

Her witch-sight flared, the spinning symbols of violent intent that had already encircled her target shifting in time to Arrapackxia's influence within her head, the demon's presence reaching up from the Mind Realm and bypassing the fog within her head that may have alerted the caster of the spell afflicting the entire city with soporific unconsciousness, irregular and spiked shapes of atavistic resonance detaching from the reticular structure highlighting the shapeshifter through the twilight murk and spinning maddening around a seemingly empty region of the darkness.

She pulled the sword of Malice back towards her, releasing her side so that she could brandish both of her weapons fully, the crimson and saw-toothed heptagram which contorted and buckled aperiodically moving within her sight like a rogue pupil within an iris of darkness, coming closer to her as Arrapackxia's sibilant commands and power allowed him to manipulate the witch-sight and confer what he knew through his own vision to the Master of Gluttony. The woman clasped her two blades together, launching a howling ball of fire at the shapeshifter being, which laughed as it smashed the flames aside with one arm, retaliating with a sharding bolt of darkness which broke apart into many projectiles of shadow which arced through the air at the Welkalite.

Ilentia span her blades, hacking apart the missiles that came too close to her as they ripped chunks out of the paving slabs that made up the streets of Kalaan and weaving in and out of those that she couldn't tear apart with her twin sabres, but she knew full well that this was only a preliminary attack as the demon charged at her. Flipping backwards out of the rain of darkness as Fire and Malice formed a shield of flashing metal around her, Ilentia poured Black magic into her swords before ramming them into the ground as she landed.

Drawing upon the power conferred to her by her greater demon whilst also sacrificing portions of her own life in order to fuel the spell so that she could temporarily ignore some of the limitations placed upon her by the lack of food for her Summoning and its inability to ascend to its second form, Ilentia let the corrupted force rush through her veins, her circulatory system singing with the evil energy as it fulminated into the ground. She was unable to not note that the other rough circle within her vision had risen to a greater elevation, lingering upon one of the rooftops to the left of her as the shapeshifter trampled over the ground towards her.

The Black mana, interlaced with patches of passionate Red energy that fed upon Ilentia's anger at the disruption of her own thoughts and the desire of her foes to subdue her freedom and shackle her to a life of sleep and entrap her within their plans, poured through the rocks of the street, cracking the paving stones to pieces as it surged below them. The darkness rippled, hands of shadow rising up from the ground and impeding the artificial demon's path as they grasped onto him, seeking to pull the false being into their massed ranks as gouts of burning orange flame flared into the night sky and set it aflame.

Ilentia was acutely aware that such a spell would not have the power to stop a greater demon even if the greater demon in question was a mimic creature, but poured mana into it anyway. Hands of darkness wrapped in barbed wire of infernal fire clawed at the demon's thick legs as it crashed down the street towards her, Ilentia having found the exact location where it would be able to run straight at her without any obstructions in the labyrinthine mass of civilians who had been paralysed in time.

She reached inside of herself, focussing her primal anger at being attacked by these new enemies into the artisan sabre held in her right hand, her pale arm wreathed in a frenetic blaze of all consuming flame that wrapped around the scimitar of Fire clasped tightly in her hand which greedily devoured the flames and absorbed them into its already burning blade. Baleful crimson mingling with fiery anger as they crashed together within her second sword, and she rose up to her full height, leaving Malice embedded in the ground as it continued to pulsate with the nefarious malevolence that grasped at the onrushing clone of Arrapackxia, the taint seeping into the ground and animating it to her menacing will.

Come on then, fake demon. Let's see how you match up to my power, Ilentia thought, or was rather forced to think by the sway that the voracious overlord of the dark had on her mind. It was evidently to distract the mental presence within her head that she had foolishly allowed entrance by quenching her thirst on the city's water, to make it unaware that Ilentia was not intending for her final blow that would end the metamorphosing Summoning to be this one. For once it was in the Master of Gluttony's best interests for her not to be able to think clearly, as that would prevent the caster of the narcolepsy from telepathically altering their allies as to her real intent.

The fire surged through her veins, and she took a step backwards, holding her blade out in front of her as the power coursed through her veins, the blackness which had stood out starkly against her pallid skin after battling against her demon within the foetid cave of her mind being replaced by an incandescent scarlet that shone with the angry and destructive light of the tempests of hell. She grasped on to the handle with both hands, Malice's protestations at being let go of drowned out into the roaring of the Red and Black mana in Ilentia's ears, the hands of shadow having served their purpose of delaying the shapeshifter long enough.

Instead of focussing her magic into both of her limbs separately so that the respective type of mana could be funnelled into the sabre of hers that reacted most strongly to it and amplified the power, Ilentia thrust the unmolded and raw mana into the more destructive sword of Fire which shook and buckled with the energy that was being poured into it.

An inferno of resonant power swirled around the Master of Gluttony, evanescent sparks of darkness and flame snapping and hissing at the air as they died moments after they were born, and Ilentia shook in the grip of the magic that would be one of the most outright destructive but also indiscriminate and inaccurate spells she had ever released before – enough power to immolate and consume the shapeshifter due to the fact that it had only copied the form of Arrapackxia which was at the demon's weakest, before he had been given the chance to sink his teeth into human flesh.

As Arrapackxia had foretold, the replica demon still barrelled down the street towards the Welkalite woman, but at the same time the bloody halo of the witch-sight's transfixing upon a point in the distance suddenly became fixated upon a figure materialising out of it with gauntlets immersed in scintillating Blue mana extended outwards and held just below the level of their head, just as the shapeshifter came to about two metres away from the Master of Gluttony.

It was a more confident display than the agents from the League of Thrazek had shown so far, but to all intents and purposes Ilentia should not have been able to see that they were there so therefore the manoeuvre – which was hardly anything close to brazen in and of itself – was perfectly safe in any other circumstance.

Fluctuating whorls of energetic resonance played along the slender fingers of the magos, sapphire fibres of Blue mana twisting and twirling in a pattern of denial that extended quickly towards Ilentia as the sorcerer thrust their arm outwards, their ability to counteract the Master of Gluttony's more powerful magic that they had been unable to nullify before having undergone the Summoning ritual and risen in power because of it. The dark psychic energy bombarded the Welkalite woman, wrapping around the contrails of blackened hellfire which had surrounded Ilentia and threatening to suck away all of the mana.

The speed of the countermagic was so swift that if Ilentia hadn't had Arrapackxia presenting her with the boon of his own demonic sight into the shadows which had manipulated her witch-sight into tracking the subtle movement of the Yentarian Summoner she would not have been able to perceive it before it drained her magic of power and passion – and had such a fate befallen her, the Master of Gluttony would have been easy prey for the false demon bearing down on her.

The split second before the imperceptibly rapid countermagic siphoned away the emotion and strength behind her channelling of the fire bursting out of her limbs and licking the night air in front of her in preparation for its release, Ilentia painfully dragged the seething energy back inside of her, Fire expressing its discontent at not being able to incinerate her foes as the flames surged backwards through her veins. She howled in pain, but turned that howl into another spell, one so primal and linked to her body's intrinsic direction of her mana that the mage from the League of Thrazek would not be able to prepare a counter measure in time to stop it.

The agony flooded through her circulatory system, the torment of the mana's punishment of her and the torture of dragging such a large quantity of volatile darkness and hellfire inside of herself coruscating across her pale body, but instead of forcing her to her knees and making her surrender to the trauma of the backlash of the action Ilentia used it to power herself, her defiance rising in tandem to the pain to the point where it was impossible to distinguish the two – just as it had been when she had been fighting for her life against Arrapackxia within the foetid cavern of her Mind Realm.

The eldritch power of the mage brushed against her skin, a cold sensation of numbness rushing through her veins before it was erased by the sheer suffering that was crashing throughout her body which was impossible to be ignored and brought back feeling to her limbs within a few seconds. Ilentia pulled away from the tendrils of nullification magic, which, without the clear target of the spell that she had been generating within her, quickly faded away into the darkness of night.

She could feel the bloody rose inside of her chest, the metaphor for her brutal magic, uncoiling within her and scraping her insides with its poisoned thorns, and focussed the supercharged mana down into the extremities of her legs just as the shapeshifter came upon her. Its arm arced downwards, seeking to impale Ilentia upon maliciously curved claws or tear out the contents of her stomach with those same wickedly sharp talons, but the Welkalite was already gone, springing into the air and flipping over as she did so, the somersault allowing her to yank Malice out of the ground with a noise of power disjointed.

With adrenalized blood rushing through her circulatory system, time slowed to a crawl around Ilentia, the endorphins that were swelling inside of her form powering her and heightening the responses of her senses to obscene levels of excruciating yet exquisite clarity. That was good, as such would be required for her to pull off the directive that Arrapackxia had sent straight into her mind and that she had assessed worthy of her time herself (the pain allowing her to achieve clarity with a brief moment within her thoughts and turn her impulses and instincts towards those of a vaguely contemplative nature for a short moment).

She flipped over the shapeshifter's impression of her ravenous demon's arm, but instead of launching a barrage of attacks from her aerial vantage point, which, despite the fact that they were augmented by the speed that she had enhanced herself with, would not have achieved anything past inflicting minor scratches upon the false being's leathery hide, flicked her legs out through the air and landed upon the large arm of the clone Summoning. The woman utilised the solid surface as a method of further propulsion, kicking off of it so that she could leap away from the doppelgänger of her own Summoning, but not before a remarkable change began to overcome the shape shifting creature.

Its pale form began to break apart, unravelling like a tapestry of black flesh and visceral quicksilver tugged apart at the terminal ends of its gory ends (although there was no expulsion of blood involved in the sudden transformation), and even as Ilentia leapt through the air away from it she could still view the change that it was undergoing out of the corner of her crimson red eyes. The form of the false demon split apart, rendered back down to its constituent components of cryptoplasmic essence that span around in concentric circles for a few moments before bending in on themselves.

As Ilentia shot through the air, landing upon the rooftop on which the mage was stood only a few seconds after the Thrazeki had revealed themselves fully, the clone of Arrapackxia became much smaller, assuming proportions that were significantly more similar to a human than a greater demon. The Welkalite Master of Gluttony cracked the already ruined tiles of the building's covering with her rapid landing, her momentum making it all the more brutal and forceful, and whilst she did so the shapeshifter took the form of one of the melee focussed warriors of the Yentarian Republic, becoming identical to one of the assailants and firing at Ilentia with its own replica of the vambrace mounted weapon.

The splinters impacted into her back, easily penetrating through the leather armour that she was clad in which was still stained by the scarlet vitae shed by her Lucaelian enemies back in the City of Pleasure, and tearing into the fragile and thin skin beneath. They deposited their cargo of deadly poison straight into her veins, the shapeshifter which had taken the form of a Thrazeki assassin having pinpointed the location of her predominant blood vessels, and Ilentia instantly felt the serum spreading through her circulatory system.

The pain was blinding, almost overwhelming, and Ilentia screamed.

But she had come too far now to be overcome by some toxic venom, and she forced herself to endure through the agony. Besides, the momentum that she had already built up with her near crash landing on top of the roof (sacrificing her usual grace and poise for more speed) was too great for her to even consider stopping, and it was with the war cry of a banshee she charged at the seemingly surprised (although one could not tell due to their mask).

Malice slammed into the matte black faceplate of the sorcerer, lancing through the smooth helm like a shoemaker's needle pierced through the leather of their products. Blood spurted out from the wound, jetting over Ilentia and splattering her in its scarlet stain as the Yentarian spasmed in their death throes, the magic that they had been harnessing dissipating to the unholy wind that had sprung up.

Ilentia licked her lips as the blood ran down her face, the chemical tang of the ichor doing nothing to disguise the iron flavour of the fluid, and pirouetted on the rooftop, dragging the convulsing mage with her. The shapeshifter exited reality without making a sound, expressing none of the fury that another Summoning based in different colours of mana might. Ilentia whipped the body of the agent round with her blade still lodged firmly in their skull, ignoring the agony that flooded through her which combined with the pain from pulling so much unstable energy within her to the point where she was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness and defeat.

The Master of Gluttony raised her leg, paying no heed to the involuntary muscle contractions which seized through her as she kicked the body off of her sword, Malice screeching in approval as the mage was torn free and tumbled off of the roof – straight into the waiting arms of Arrapackxia. The ravenous demon had charged in Ilentia's direction the moment she had started to enact the next portion of his masterful strategy to satiate his burning hunger, and cackled in sadistic joy at the still live meal that was dumped into his embrace.

He bit into the man's head (as although the mage was not making any cries of pain the fact that their helm had shattered reveal their gender), shuddering in ecstatic bliss as warm blood spilled into his mouth and his teeth tore into the flesh of the head, breaking through the armour and the skull to rip into the brain at the centre. Blood dripped down the demon's chin as he howled in glorious exultation when he rose up, black wings bursting out of his back and unfurling outwards towards the silver moon that bathed everything in mystical lunar light.

The darkness thickened around the demon, his corrupt strength pouring the nether realms into the night and disrupting the movement of his and the Master of Gluttony's foes throughout the gloom.

The shadows were his now, not theirs, and no longer would they hide within the murk.

Arrapackxia turned, his talons sharpening and lengthening in a sickening extension of unnatural keratin, and raised one viciously clawed hand, darkness billowing out from it as the night bent to the exalted evil of his malevolent will, wrapping around a shadowy figure who had futilely hoped to conceal themselves within the gloom and violently yanking them out of it.

"Thought you could hide, did you? Thought you could deny me of my deserved meal?!" the demon shrieked, anger and dark mirth mixing together in a discordant cacophony of unholy wailing that cut through the shadow, mouths of tenebrosity opening up and gnashing their midnight teeth as they screamed in an unearthly echo of the nefarious being's threatening words. The soldier was smashed into the ground, their limbs stretched out by the tendrils of tenebrous gloom encircling the human's arms and legs as they were sent reeling by the violent impact.

The Thrazeki struggled, fighting back against the darkness despite their being no hope for the agent now, and Arrapackxia grinned sadistically as he grasped the mortal round the throat, lifting them off of the cracked ground like a child and permitting them full use of their limbs, the midnight fingers sliding away and hunting for more prey within the unhallowed night.

The Yentarian writhed, though whether that was due to the pain that must have suffused their fragile body or was intended to facilitate a futile attempt to obtain freedom from the ravenous demon's voracious clutches was unknown.

Arrapackxia laughed at the pitiful endeavours of the human at trying to break out of his grasp, slamming the assassin's head onto his other hand that was set rigid and with its vicious claws extended. Their head shattered, blood and brain matter splattering everywhere and coating the demon's limbs in crimson viscera, the faceless helm surrounding it splintering into slivers of black porcelain.

Arrapackxia took a juicy bite out of the corpse, before easily and dismissively tossing it away from himself. He commented, "Weakling thing," as he almost nonchalantly flicked the body across the street, before turning and gazing at the rest of the agents who lingered within the shadows, their masks concealing their expressions.

"Come then! Come and face the fate of your comrades! I long to feast upon your tender flesh, to feel the crunch of your bones as I sink my fangs into them and to consign your souls to my abyssal hunting grounds to be my playthings for all eternity!" the demon taunted as it extended its arms and wings either side of it, shadows coalescing into onyx fangs of corruption that repeated the being's hellish call, the display of power costing Arrapackxia nothing.

If the assailants of the Master of Gluttony were perturbed by the roar that billowed across the avenue, cracking the already brutalised pavement and ripping the tiles of stone from rooftops through the infernal noise, it did not show behind their visors of black nor in their resolute and battle ready postures.

Had Arrapackxia been partial to introspective thought, he would have pondered how much psycho-conditioning their mysterious foes had been forced through to allow them to be almost completely immune to the effects of the demon's rise in power – even the hated Sisterhoods of the heavens of Sancturia would be affected by the exhibition of clear unholy strength (even if Arrapackxia would never admit that the few times that he had faced a First Sisterhood seraphim in battle they seemed mostly apathetic to his transformation itself and only showing emotion that was borne from their detestation of him), but here these mere mortal warriors cared not for his demonstration and the bloody murder of their compatriots.

Dark mana radiated from the demon like heat from an infernal bonfire within the caverns of the eternally damned, but the only agent of the League of Thrazek who seemed in the least bit concerned was the last remaining magic user, their posture more tense than that of the two warriors that flanked the one who must have held more authority within the shadowy ranks of the most clandestine League of Thought as they allowed Blue mana to blossom from their hands, re-conjuring the mutant raptor which screeched as it was birthed into the material plane once more.

The mage was the target that he would choose then. While the other two agents of the Yentarian Republic stood stoically at almost equidistant points either side of the sorcerer, unfazed by the demon's terrifying outbursts like faceless statues of assassins instead of the real things, the magic user, through either a greater sensitivity to the metaphysical aspects of the or a heighten capability to think and process their dire predicament, had more of a reaction – even if that reaction did not come close to the fear that Arrapackxia had been intending to incite within his enemies, the fear that he sustained himself upon along with their flesh and blood.

The Archdemon of Greed (though not yet an actual Archdemon) mentally promised himself that he would see fear from one of his foes before the night's end, and etched that fateful pledge into the darkness where it gained its own hate fuelled existence and oozed its malevolence into the night.

Arrapackxia snorted derisively at the beast when it cawed at him with an unnatural and warbling shrieking noise, paying no heed to the fact that his Summoner had not yet descended from the rooftop on which she had ambushed the controller of the shapeshifter, and roared once more, an incoherent noise of pure lust for flesh and unadulterated gluttonous need combined with the exultant pursuit of the hunt of frightened mortals.

Ilentia staggered backwards, the progress of the artificially manufactured poison within her veins causing her mind and body to be set alight with a form of agony that she had never experienced before – akin to the venomous kiss of the desert lotus but with none of the bliss-inducing properties of that rare flora harvested across Welkas by the Order of Rapture so that their customers could experience the full gourmet of ecstatic torture the New Empire of Passion had to offer.

It hurt, waves of blinding agony coursing through her pale form, but with the new rise of power from her pet greater demon the violent mana that was kept within her system was having a much more prominent effect when trying to expunge it, her dark vitality augmented by the ascent of Arrapackxia and his savage nourishment.

But the serum that was steadily advancing through her blood vessels was nothing to compared to the heightening of the telepathic resonance within her already abused skull that the toxins created by the shapeshifter's impersonation of one of the Thrazeki assassins had heralded, the psychic assault dragging her ever closer into the chasm of unconsciousness and numbness that was the anathema to Ilentia's being; she had to use almost all of her concentration and effort to resist the mental pull into greyness.

The demon's rise in power was supposed to coincide with her own – it was supposed to be galvanising, invigorating her with more unholy power that should have been electrifying, but all the Master of Gluttony could feel now was the perpetual reverberations of the presence inside of her mind that blocked out nearly all stimulation.

She should have been energised by Arrapackxia unlocking the full potential of his malevolent abilities, but in lieu of that all she could feel was more distracted, all she could do was devote yet more of her thought processes into clinging to the edge of awareness and sustaining her greater demon – the only thing between her and the enemies that she was honestly surprised weren't attacking her yet. Ilentia was not aware of the fact that their progress through the darkness was disrupted by the presence of her greater demon in his more powerful form, but little did it matter as her mind was still fully aware that it would not be long before she was the recipient of more assaults so that her mysterious assailants did not have to deal with the formidable power of a released demon.

She pushed herself off of the roof, realising blearily that she had fallen onto her knees and had been laid with her face being cut into by the shards of rock splintered off from tiles in her haste to assault the Summoner of the doppelgänger, and used her swords as a method of leverage as she unsteadily rose to her feet, wincing at the agony that pulsated in an irregular yet somehow rhythmic ripple of mental destruction inside of her head. Her mana pool was still near full, regenerated by the ravenous demon finally accessing the upper limits of its capabilities.

Damnation. I can … barely think with this … presence in my head …

The bloodied and wounded Master of Gluttony swivelled her red eyes in their sockets, shaking her head to clear the haziness that had suffused her vision and was clouding her witch-sight, concluding from the fact that she could see all three of the remnants of the Thrazeki force that Arrapackxia would be able to deal with them well enough without her intervention.

She was not content leaving the situation in the demon's hands at all, especially with his predilection towards savouring the murder of the targets that the Welkalite had sent her relatively new Summoning at and his penchant towards trying to betray her control – but she could barely even gather the required amounts of energy up within her to cast a spell of the required focus or shape without causing herself immense amounts of damage, let alone concentrate on the myriad factors of the fight against the shadowy foes that had assaulted her.

On the bright side, at least the fact that she wielded more violent and spontaneous forms of mana meant that there was not much mental concentration required to stimulate an equilibrium of magical energy within her – as opposed to the more controlled and serene varieties of mana such as White and Blue, Black and Red combined were erratic and irregular, the presence of the magic of passion and fire driving the usually callously disciplined Black into a frenzied and violent state.

This meant that Ilentia was able to access the volatile and destructive energy inside of her without any mantras to carefully monitor its usage or any mental focus at all – it was emotional focus that was the key and despite (or perhaps because of) the psychic intrusion she had plenty of that. Her mana would be primal and raw, but still effective even though it would harm herself to utilise, and due to that she decided to observe her demon fighting instead and intervene only if it was required.

The Archdemon of Greed beat his large black wings, buffeting the air saturated with corruption and vile darkness all around him as he scraped nearby buildings with the nibs of the unholy pinions, grinning maliciously at the enemies who began to slowly spread out, evidently intending to flank the greater demon and utilise their superior mobility to potentially lethal effect, but that meant that the sorcerer was left further away from the others as the membranous raptor took to the air, strafing the spawn of the underworld's pits with bolts of aquamarine that the demon rolled his grey pits of eyes at.

He leaned forwards, his nose rippling as he sniffed the air, the aroma of fear that he had become so used to from mortal creatures still not present within his enemies, and poured dark mana into the night air. One of his eternally hungry mouths of shadow opened wide behind the ear of the Thrazeki sorcerer, conveying the demon's insidious words as he whispered, his voice suffused with a maddening resonance, an insanity-inducing sibilance that dripped from every syllable and oozed out of every malefic word: "Do you not fear me, mortal? I am your death, the ending of your existence, the herald of eternal fear and pain. Does that not terrify you? Does the thought of spending an eternity within the darkest hells of Sancturia not fill your frail bones with fright?"

As the words were enunciated by an unnatural mouth as a tenebrous tongue slid over teeth of darkness, the masked mage of the League of Thrazek stiffened, before spinning on one of their heels and snapping of a blisteringly fast counter spell at the gaping maw opening wide and belching a stream of globular darkness at the magic wielder, barely nullifying the vomiting attack because of the atavistic and raw power of the demon that was not beholden to the laws of mortal magic.

But that left the rest of them open for more powerful incantations cast by the greater demon, and Arrapackxia's grin only widened as he contemptuously flicked out his hand, a rending hail of sharding calignosity tearing into the howling raptor, ripping the sinewy flesh from its modified cartilage as the darkness wrapped around it, crushing it to a bloody pulp with no resistance. The demon stamped a taloned and heavy foot into the ground, a fissure of pure abyssal matter cracking across the abused avenue and etching an unholy sigil of smoking darkness into the street that fountained with liquid and oily blackness that arced into the night air, bonding with the midnight darkness in a sacrilegious unity of corruption and shadow that sent the onyx robes the latter half of the demon was clad in billowing.

Arrapackxia raised his hands, extending the fingers as the nebulous Black mana coalesced around them, unnatural darkness manipulated by the greater demon as it swarmed around the sharp tips of his wings and ran along his elongated talons, moulding the voracious mana into a dramatically more potent shape as it swelled and converged in front of him, an irregular and jagged symbol that the eyes of men bled when they looked upon it scratching its way into being and providing a focal point for the unfettered mana.

The ravenous demon snarled as he released the magic, the pulsating form of the ability throbbing to the malignant sound of a pounding heartbeat, thudding with the exuberance of the chase and in bestial anticipation of a meal of raw flesh and rich blood. The rough blot of the darkness, swirling with eddies of pure and unadulterated hunger, rushed forwards through the distance between it and prey, the corporeal manifestation of a raging, unquenchable thirst for flesh flooding the air as it hurtled at the mage.

The slender figure quickly prepared a counter spell, etching lines of sapphire luminescence with their nimble fingers and spinning them like thread, quickly assembling the parts of the nullification, but Arrapackxia knew instantly that it was far too weak to halt the demon's magic and laughed scornfully at the paltry effort to mitigate the damage of his sorcery. One of the warriors, located to the right of the last remaining Summoner of the party hailing from Yentar, leapt at their leader, knocking the other Thrazeki out of the way of the roiling mass of ravenous appetite.

The magos impacted into the ground and quickly rolled back to their feet with an elegant flip, just in time to see their comrade being surrounded and subsequently devoured by the shroud of hungry darkness that swarmed over the mortal. There was no screaming from the disciplined assassin, but Ilentia still heard a sound akin to thousands of whirring and screeching teeth ripping into the Yentarian's flesh and tearing it from their bones at an obscene rate whilst their soul was yanked from their body and plunged into the underworld abyss.

The gout of purple and black desire rampaged onwards, gnawing into the street and consuming the broken stone of the pavement before Arrapackxia silenced it and quelled its power, returning the mana to himself. The desiccated form of the melee specialising agent of the enigmatic League fell to the ground, a blackened husk of dust and some bone fragments all that was left of the human before even that blew away on the winds that had suddenly sprung up.

The demon barked with more maleficent laughter, clenching and releasing his fingers as a coil of lacuna darkness rippled into non-existence around them, but instead of the energy emulating the pure emptiness of the void, the death of all life and motion, it was infused with the pleasure of feasting and the cruel enjoyment of the hunt.

Ilentia watched on until that point, wherein the splitting headache that she was suffering under rose in intensity until it was almost unbearable. She screamed, the sound torn from bloodied lips and accompanied by a spray of inky black vitae, as the shaking within her skull made the whole world vibrate around her, the reverberations inside of her mind rising in potency in tandem to a tear in the thick darkness that widened every second.

A figure began to appear, forcing their way through the demon's intensification of the night blackness as portions of Arrapackxia's own personal domain within the pits of Sancturia were dislodged by the cold and calculated magic of this new arrival.

Ilentia sensed that her mental agony, as well as the soporific sorcery afflicting every other inhabitant of the eastern capital of Kalaan, was originating from this person, but could not do anything other than writhe on the top of her elevated vantage point as the circles of pure psychic torture within her head pushed at the borders of her skull, making Ilentia feel as if her mind was being simultaneously wrung inside out and crushed to a pulp as her pale fingers clutched her head. There was a thrumming note that sounded like it was emanated from an instrument of an impossibly low pitch, a deep and emotionless tone that pierced into her most private mental spaces, threatening to rip Ilentia's psyche in two and crush all semblance of what she was, strangle her personality and cloud every sensation until she was nothing more than a mindless drone – or dead, with her cranial matter having burst out of her nose and leaked out of her ears and mouth.

The figure materialised out of the gloom quite close to Ilentia's location, and the impaired Master of Gluttony flipped herself over, ungraciously crashing down onto the dusty ground of the street below and thankful for her body's regenerative properties as she slammed into the stone of the pavement, anything to get away from the constant, unending noise.

She couldn't think – she could barely form words inside of her head – but her mental impulses were still going strong, and it was those that her body hearkened to, her limbs spasming into action as her mind exploded with pain. But it was not torture that she could ignore, the agony of the flesh paling in comparison to this mental assault that she was in the throes of, and the woman let out another scream of raw internal pain which was filled with her frustration at being laid low by this magic when she should have been able to best any warrior and defeat any foe, a shriek which quickly dissolved into convulsive coughing and hacking caused by the progress of the venom throughout her blackened veins, the dark vitality of her body doing little to halt the flow of the poison within her which in turn facilitated a further influx of telepathic power within her head.

No … dammit … no … I won't … won't let it end … not like this …

Arrapackxia! KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!
Your wish is my command, my dear Ilentia. The demon's voice, a harsh and grating noise that usually would have caused immense amounts of slicing pain as it cut into Ilentia's thoughts, was incredibly distant, like Arrapackxia had shouted the words from the other side of Kalaan, their spiteful timbre lessened and diminished by the blaring and all consuming psychic invasion.

"More of you?! Good! All the more flesh for me to sink my teeth into! All the more blood for me to slake my thirst upon! COME THEN, YOU PATHETIC MORTALS! COME AND FACE THE MIGHT OF THE ARCHDEMON OF GREED!" Arrapackxia howled, and had Ilentia not heard the certain tonality to his voice before she would have been convinced that the greater demon was thankful for the appearance of more enemies to feast upon. But she did, and it was one that she was intimately familiar with, having heard the same from Arrapackxia only a few hours ago when she had bested the Summoning and reaffirmed the unholy contract between them by branding him with the mark of servitude, a grave insult at best and a declaration of eternal war against the demon at worst.

Although Arrapackxia was not as frightened – or whatever emotion that demons felt instead of human fear, though Ilentia had learned first hand that even a functionally immortal being formed from the personification of enmity, hatred and unadulterated desire still felt terror very similar to that of any mortal woman or man – as he had been within the subterranean hell of her Mind Realm, he was still more scared than Ilentia had been expecting. She had anticipated that Arrapackxia would be longing for her death so that he could escape the forced Infernal Bargain that he had been dragged out of the hunting grounds he so often mentioned, but instead of the demon exuding excitement at the prospect of potential freedom all that she could sense from her Summoning's words were concern for himself.

Arrapackxia raised his hand, the coiling tendrils of hungry darkness twisting round one another as he blasted it at the figure stood shrouded and stoic atop the roof on which Ilentia had just unceremoniously tumbled off of, the demon pulling up power from its corrupted heart and sending it at the new arrival. A tempest of gloaming and pollution surrounded the psychic, a spinning storm of Black mana that shrieked as it eviscerated the building on which the telepath who was presumably Yentarian stood, biting great chunks out of the guardhouse as it howled and screamed with unrestrained craving.

Glyphs of malicious intent imprinted themselves onto the night air around the structure, only visible because of the fact that they were darker and more evil than the midnight itself, and the cacophonous roar of a false god could be heard as the cyclone of twinned desolation and bloodthirst levelled the building and span maddeningly in a violent dance of atavistic craving.

Seven tendrils of substantial darkness curled around Arrapackxia's outstretched talons, alight with a violet lust that glittered like pearls of obsidian inlet with glinting lilac resonance, before shooting forwards and wrapping around the shadowy tempest that had surrounded the newly arrived mage.

Arrapackxia squeezed, and the darkness followed his movements, beating the air with his magnificently evil wings and flying into the night, gloom coalescing into a more physical and savage form as he coaxed the potential for unquenchable hunger out of it, the incarnate avatar of gluttonous desire made manifest haughtily staring down at the position where he had last seen the telepath sorcerer as malevolent Black mana trailed around his sculpted limbs and pooled within his eyes.

Ilentia forced her vision to come back into focus, wishing that there was a way that she could deactivate the diabolical gift of her witch-sight that was making it more difficult to perceive reality with confusing and spiked shapes of a blood red nature distorting her eyesight, and watched as well as she could whilst her demon unleashed his power upon the psychic wizard which had debilitated her so.

Arrapackxia couldn't repress a gasp of surprise when the dust and rubble of the building crashing down dissipated, revealing the figure still stood in nearly the exact position they had been before the destructive Black mana had consumed the structure on which they had appeared.

Concentric circles of Blue radiated out from five focal points in regular locations upon an impossibly complex pattern of hieroglyphs and lines of mana around the mage, the power of the mind impressed onto the air causing a shield of illuminescent and shimmering tessellation that somehow unequivocally represented denial within Ilentia's mind as she gazed upon it to be birthed into existence. The telepath was unscathed by the assault which had obliterated an entire section of the street, the protective countermagic that they had instantly created shrouded by shadows that they had commandeered themselves protecting them from the attack.

They were stood mid air, held aloft by the force of their staggering intellect, arcane sigils blending with darkness and Blue mana connecting with Black in a three dimensional mosaic of nullification all around them. Their posture was straight and tall, almost haughty and arrogant but not overly representative of any form of emotion, exuding as much sentiment as a wall of ice, but certainly not tensed and defensive like it should have been to endure such an onslaught of demonic power without suffering even a scratch. Even so, it was impossible to ignore the sight of the Thrazeki inclining their head slightly towards the greater demon aloft above them, an unmistakable challenge.

Ilentia did not have time to consider their appearance or their equipment (though it was possible that she wouldn't be able to because of the pain resounding within her brain) before Arrapackxia had screamed with rage and shot through the air towards the sorcerer who definitely was the commander of this small contingent from the League of Thrazek.

The greater demon who fancied itself as an Archdemon of Greed dove towards the human who had dared to emerge unaffected by his dark power, intending to impale the upstart mage upon his claws and bite off their head – see if they were so smug about themselves when their blood was dripping from his fangs – a swarm of dark bolts breaking off from the miasmic blackness surrounding the foul being and launching themselves at the mage before the demon could get to grips with them.

The pattern around the Yentarian reformed itself, the glimmering lines of pure thought and mental potency detaching themselves from one another and intercepting each and every one of the shards of midnight before they could get anywhere close to the levitating telepath, the deep sapphire glow that suffused the eyes of those affected by the lullaby spell of the citizens and warriors within Kalaan the same colour as the magic wielded by this mage – and had Ilentia possessed full usage of her thoughts she would have wondered how much power this individual could muster if they were able to send the populace of an entire Welkalite city into a state of induced narcolepsy and withstand the diabolical strength of her greater demon in his stronger form.

The Thrazeki held the staff in their right hand high, the strange curling sigil that it was topped with which was clearly imbued with large quantities of power augmentation, and tilted the elegant stave towards the onrushing Arrapackxia. A blast of pure void darkness split the night air as it fulminated towards the greater demon, extending outwards in a spinning bolt before its end split into multiple pieces, the gloom converted into crystalline streams of energy that broke off from one another and formed a lattice structure around the last remaining Summoning, one that emitted a strange and incomprehensible glow of nothingness yet paradoxically something that Ilentia couldn't distinguish.

An enigmatic labyrinth of thought magic and shadows coalesced into being around Arrapackxia, who howled his tempestuous fury at the mage as he battered his claws into the unreal structure, but when the telepath slammed their staff onto the ground in a single fluid motion, a wave of Blue and Black mana resounding out from it that passed over both Ilentia and the aerial demon captured within the maze of scintillating psychic networks and capillaries of gloaming interlaced with flecks of the same dark blue that Ilentia had become accustomed to observing from her foes.

The woman couldn't suppress a bone chilling screech as Arrapackxia's essence was ripped to pieces, the connection between the greater demon and the mana supplier that was her, the Summoner, weakened immensely to the point of virtual non-existence so that Ilentia could no longer maintain the Summoning's presence within the physical world. She screamed as the demon was forced back into her, agonising pain rushing up and down her spine and exploding within her head at the power that was conferred to her from the Summoning and ascension of her Sancturia denizen being abruptly withdrawn, plunging her already tortured mind into more psychic torment as the demon's quintessence was forced back inside of her Mind Realm that warped inwards on itself, denying her the power that she so craved and that would be vital for her success.

Ilentia cried tears of black blood that marred her already bloodied pale features, clutching her head with one hand and scrunching herself up in a foetal position on the dusty streets, like a scared child who had lost their parents and desperately wanted to become safe again. Like Guena, all those years ago, when her and Otio's mother and father had abandoned them within the previous civil war that had swept across the Old Empire.

Her head pounded, and her orientation couldn't have been worse, but even in spite of that her instincts and impulses still refused to be smothered by the telepathic magic penetrating her mental defences. The Master of Gluttony tried to find the rose of power within her, the strength that she had unlocked when almost dying to Arrapackxia, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't reach it or even visualise it with, the enshrouding mist within her head blocking out the wellspring of mana inside of her.

Damn it … damn you …

The mage stepped forwards, gently lowering themselves to the ground as if they were walking on an invisible staircase, and Ilentia was able to analyse them at that moment. They wore a similar type of armour to the other, more minor sorcerers that she had seen from the League of Thrazek, the same reflective black that conferred them unnatural concealment as the night darkness was bent around them, but with a fluted pattern and several inscriptions and glyphs which were intensely blurry under the young woman's gaze, runic lettering imprinted on the surface of the armour.

Their mask was split into two parts instead of being a single sleek visor, with a space left for their pale mouth to touch the air and their for colourless lips to bend as they made words, although for the most part the mage stayed silent. The vestments of the sorcerer were completely by a shimmering cloak of deep ocean darkness and a cocoon of dreamlike imagery that seemed unaffected by the wind sweeping across Kalaan, moving to their own euphonious rhythm and unrestrained by the general laws of physics.

Ilentia gripped onto the handle of a blade that she was still holding onto tightly, trusty Malice writhing in her grasp and longing to sink its barbed teeth into the flesh of this new foe that had prevented its wielder from fighting back at her full capabilities.

The human telepath hovered closer to her, not deigning to step onto the ground and kept aloft by the power of their mind, and Ilentia focussed her own malice, her hatred, into a concentrated source of loathing within her head, seething with pain and anger and black enmity.

With a cry of pure hatred, the Master of Gluttony sprang forwards, her tensed muscles releasing as she shot through the air towards the Yentarian only a few feet from herself, her sadistic blade an extension of her malevolent will as it sailed towards the psychic.

The Thrazeki didn't even bother to move, flicking the fingers of their free hand into a new position that caused the geometric and anagrammatic shield around them to shift and amalgamate into a new form, spinning patterns of interlocking energy that expanded outwards, effortlessly knocking Ilentia back onto the ground, Malice tossed away from her, as her mind was subjected to an impossibly gentle yet excruciatingly tortuous caress that plucked the defiance, the source of hatred within her, out of her mind, and along with it the will to fight dissipated until it was nothing.

As her eyes glazed over, the Master of Gluttony stared up into the smooth helm of her foe, and in spite of the fact that she could not see the eyes of the telepath she was certain that she could perceive dispassionate contempt, the kind of cold disdain a high ranking noble would show before signing the death warrant for thousands of peasant lives.

No … no …

"Executor," the minor mage spoke, his voice unmistakably male, and although it was clearly supposed to seem emotionless there was a hint of fear mixed with guilt in the man's tone. Arrapackxia would have been furious to know that the sorcerer had been unaffected by all of the demon's terrifying menagerie of phantasmagoria but was subjected to fear in the presence of his superior.

The psychic didn't turn, continuing to study Ilentia as an empathy bereft scientist would analyse an insect before trapping it and subjecting it to agonising experiments for the rest of its existence, her pain not extenuated by the fact that she was drifting ever closer to somnific oblivion.

No … dammit … no …

"Save you words, Biomancer. Casualties are unavoidable and an acceptable eventuality within a conflict such as this," the telepath also seemed to be male, although with the strange timbre to their emotionless tone it was impossible to ascertain their gender for certain, especially with their androgynous outfit. They continued, their words echoing over and over again in Ilentia's mind, akin to a toneless and dispassionate song that lulled her into an induced unconsciousness, "What is unacceptable, however, is the death of your fellow sorcerer. I recollect that I warned you to take the utmost care in apprehending the Master of Gluttony."

Had Ilentia been able to watch, she would have seen the other, distinctly male mage stiffen as their superior floated a few centimetres above the ground, and with a dismissive gesture the swirling pattern around the psychic was dispersed into the night air. "No matter. Strategy Moonlit Ambush has been enacted successfully."

Ilentia tried to reach for the psychic, attempting to tear into the Yentarian with her bare hands if need be, but she couldn't move, couldn't think, her body refusing to obey the blurted sounds within her skull which barely made a difference to the resounding noise inside of her head.

No …

The sorcerer turned, and Ilentia's eyes drooped, her vision blurring even as some part of her still tried desperately to harness the defiance which had defined her existence ever since her dark resurrection.

No …

But it was not enough. It would never be enough. The Master of Gluttony's eyes closed, their red fire extinguished from the midnight, her body illuminated only by the silver light of the Sorcerer's Moon at its zenith.

And as everything faded to grey, the vast darkness within Ilentia's mind claimed the woman.

---

New Summonings in this chapter:

Unbound: Bazaar Krovod

Carlyia Bloodfang: Magma Phoenix

League of Thrazek: Cloudfin Raptor, Cryptoplasm