A/N: This chapter has been remastered
Day 2
It was at the behest of Sirzechs Lucifer himself that Ultimate-Class devil and former Dragon King Tannin found himself scouring the lands for the source of the malevolent presence. The Blaze Meteor Dragon swept across the skies at a high-altitude, cruising at a low speed to better identify the source of the supernatural world's distress.
Indeed, at present, the entirety of the supernatural world was in an uproar. Borders had closed, alarms were sounded, and activity was at an all time high. Wary factions anticipated attacks from others, holding their breaths in trepidation as hundreds of political calls were made between governments to demand answers or claim innocence, some casting blame on others, only further raising tensions between factions.
In devil society, Sirzechs Lucifer had been flooded by social and political fear and outrage, and was currently busying himself with addressing the matter and appeasing the aristocracy. The usually cheerful and care-free Serafall Leviathan had become the face of sobriety, the gravity of the situation not lost on her. Along with a large PR team, she had set herself to work, making contact with foreign nations and factions, exchanging information and confirmations in an attempt to both quell the steady fire that was building between races, and to find out more about the issue at hand. Falbium Asmodeus had opened his eyes and was spurred into action by a rude awakening, mobilizing the devil armies and putting up barriers around key cities, outposts, and locations.
But why was all of this happening? What could have possibly happened that set the supernatural world off into a typhoon of distress?
Truthfully, and rather disconcerting as well, nobody knew. Less than twenty-four hours ago, there had been an event. Suddenly, and without warning, everything went wrong. Tannin shivered as he remembered clearly; something appeared, something devastatingly powerful, something filled to the brim with torment. Its aura encompassed the world, so frighteningly malicious that everything felt it. Rage, anger, loathing, killing intent defined it—nay, words couldn't express the violent wrath that it exuded. Any normal being would have been driven insane just by the feeling of their presence alone.
The event set everything into a frenzy—children and their parents were filled with fear as the aura forced them to their knees, soldiers went on high alert as their instincts told them to run, and factions were quick to jump the gun because nobody knew what the fuck happened. It had been so quick, so instantaneous, so everywhere that nobody could tell where it came from or what caused it. And that only scared people more.
Tannin, recognizing the very possible threat to everything he held dear, and as an Ultimate-Class devil with a high position on the political ladder, took action immediately. As soon as the aura seemingly vanished, he had taken a place among the council of the Four Great Satans and followed Ajuka Beelzebub, who had been tasked with arguably the most important job of the Four Great Satans thus far: locating the epicenter and determining the cause of the event, the thing that was causing the universe-wide distress in the first place. After gathering information from multiple witness accounts and technology readings, Ajuka had managed to draw vectors using the given data, utilizing distance and aural magnitude recordings to cross all vector lines at one point on a map.
Quite shockingly, though the cause of the event was still unknown, it was revealed that the epicenter of the malicious presence had been smack-dab in the middle of the Chaos Karma Dragon's cave. One thing led to another, then Tannin volunteered to investigate. Thus, by the official order of Sirzechs, the Blaze Meteor dragon had took to the skies in search of the presence.
There were multiple reasons why Tannin volunteered to do this. For one, despite the hard-ass exterior, Tannin's caring and benevolent nature brewed worry within him for Tiamat's well-being, a comrade who's history was tied to his. Since Tiamat had yet to send a distress signal or summon an ally via Dragon Gate, it was no stretch to say that something had gone wrong. Worse, during the confusion of the initial event, Tiamat's signature had disappeared at some point, leaving both Tannin and Ajuka to scratch their heads in worry.
The other reason for Tannin's insistence on this search was due in no small part to the familiarity of the malevolent aura. It was by no means familiar in a positive way—it was familiar in that he had felt that presence once long, long ago, though he couldn't remember where or when. What worried him most was that the aura was very reminiscent of the legendary Relics of Doom, artifacts that he'd only caught a few glimpses of in his relatively long life. What was the aura's connection to the Relics? Was it the creator? He had to know.
The Relics of Doom were very powerful, world changing artifacts that only few had the honor to possess. Each one had the potential to tip the balance of power between factions, and yet nobody knew who had created them, not even the Biblical God. For someone to have made such long-lasting artifacts, they had to be immensely powerful. Tannin, even if he was a dragon, dreaded the idea of making an enemy out of such a being. In locating the presence, Tannin hoped to make allies with them, whoever they may be.
The Blaze Meteor Dragon's wings cut through the wind as he glided above the clouds, soon coming upon a mountain range, one that he had passed by many times before. Had he not been paying attention, he might have missed the glint of light reflecting off of some unseen surface below. His eyes were drawn down, and with his superior eyesight, he stared directly at the source.
Tannin choked. "This is...!"
The moment he caught sight of the thing, his energy sensing abilities were overwhelmed. His eyes wide, a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his snout as he stared at the sun. No, wait, not the sun. A quasar. Nay, wrong again!
It was a being, but the amount of energy contained within their aura rivaled that of a quasar—exceeded it by magnitudes—it was blinding!
Tannin's maw lay agape as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing, a twinge of fear growing within him as the aura took up the entirety of his sensory capabilities, rendering him completely blind to all other auras in the area. His eyes began to burn, and he hurriedly looked away from the source.
To his surprise, the foreboding aura seemed to disappear when he looked away from it. He couldn't even feel the indisputably overbearing energy signature. How could this be?
The Dragon King peered down at the blinding aura again, then his blood grew cold as he deduced why he couldn't feel it.
The aura was totally sealed around the being, almost like the perfect stealth mechanism, but the amount of energy it contained was so intense that it shined like a fucking quasar.
Tannin had to make a conscious effort to stop himself from shaking at the implications of what he was seeing. He reiterated to himself: the being below him was in a state of constant, perfect stealth, and yet, the power that it was hiding from the world was so immense that it just bled through the aura. Such power was unthinkable! Incomprehensible!
A terrifying question weighed on Tannin's mind. What if the being were to expand its aura? What would it be like to feel the pressure of countless stars on your shoulders?
It was safe to say that Tannin had found the target. He had been expecting a powerful being. But this. This was terrifying.
"What a monster..."
The dragon bit down on his forked tongue as he weighed his options. On one hand, he needed to find out what had happened to Tiamat, and what the being's intentions were. On the other hand, if this being's intentions were truly malevolent... Tannin might not escape the engagement alive.
The sound of beating wings heavily persisted as Tannin pondered what to do. After a near minute of indecisiveness, Tannin noticed that the longer he stared at the aura, the less blinding and intense it got, eventually settling down to an intense light in the distance. The dragon made a conjecture: the amount of energy was so intense that it flooded the senses, but given enough time to get used to it, the light died down as energy sensing abilities accommodated for the overload. It made the aura seem much less threatening, but Tannin knew it wasn't the case.
With that tidbit of information, there was only another moment of hesitation before Tannin made the least-sensible decision of his life, the mental equivalent of "fuck-it," and slowly started his descent, a magic circle spinning by his ear as he made to contact Ajuka. It was only after he got closer when he realized that the being was surrounded by hundreds of other energy signatures.
The Slayer was annoyed.
Only a few hours earlier, he'd stood atop one of the mountains that overlooked the vast moonlit lands of the Underworld. He could see a desert, a forest, more mountains, and even a sprawling city at the edge of the horizon—Lilith, he presumed. Somehow, despite her insistence that she was fine, in the single minute that he had taken to stop and survey the lands, Tiamat had managed to lay her head on the shoulder of his armor and close her eyes, taking extreme comfort in his presence. She went out like a light.
It turned out that the day the Slayer and his new companion had left for Lilith had coincidentally been the day that Tiamat was to nap for the first time in a month.
Now, this in and of itself wasn't much of a problem—the Slayer could carry her around without the slightest encumbrance—in fact, Tiamat subconsciously clang onto his back, making it easier on him, so why not let her rest? There was one major issue with this. Tiamat seemed to subconsciously retract her aura whenever she slept, engaging in an impromptu stealth mode.
In other words, there was no longer an active aura to keep all of the creatures away, both big and small. Most of the lesser beasts of these lands took one look at the Slayer and booked it to next Tuesday, but the larger ones sought to test him. It didn't take long for the Slayer to notice that he and his companion were being tailed by a group of angry beasts that were steadily growing in number.
He ignored them at first, but during his trek down the mountain, when it became increasingly clear that the beasts wouldn't stop following them—even after they'd left territorial boundaries—and once he concluded that Tiamat wouldn't be waking up any time soon, the Slayer, after having walked for six hours with the beasts following him, decided to sit and wait to see who would grow the balls to face him first. So, here he was, sat on a boulder in the middle of a flat plateau with a lightly snoring dragon woman hugging tightly around the Praetor Suit, clinging like a cat to his back, reducing him to what was essentially a defunct baby-sitter in green power-armor. Great.
Truthfully, he had only been slightly annoyed by this whole situation, but over time, his irritation grew when the beasts did nothing. It seemed that the assholes that had followed him were too much of cowards to act.
Soon, the moonlight became daylight as the sun began to rise over the edge of the horizon, but still, all was quiet.
As the Slayer waited for something to make a move, his patience wearing thin, he busied himself, sorting through Tiamat's memories, mentally cataloguing each beast he identified into the codex. He gazed up at the walls of rock that grew higher with the mountain, his eyes sweeping over minotaurs, corrosive slimes, chimeras, and, strangely enough, European dryads. Normally none of these creatures would be caught dead together.
Minotaurs and chimeras fought each other relentlessly, slimes ate everything they touched, and dryads were peaceful spirits of pure intent. But here they ignored one another, peeking at the Slayer from the tops of rocky cliffs, eyeing him with anger, frothing at the mouths but refusing to face him, their fear overpowering all else. He simply waited, either for one of the beasts to take action, or for Tiamat to wake up so they could leave.
The Slayer never instigated. Never had. His actions had always been in response to something unjust, or something that pissed him off to a great degree. Perhaps he had unintentionally set something in motion in the past, maybe provoked a few shitheads into action, but he had never done so without reason. He wanted it to stay that way.
After nearly two hours of silence broken only by the metallic sound of the Slayer sharpening the Doomblade—a total of eight hours that he'd been followed and watched—just when he was about to get up and leave, one of the beasts finally grew a pair, leaping down from the cliffs above. It landed a few dozen meters away, a heavy thud bouncing off the stone walls of the mountainous expanse.
The Slayer raised his head as the minotaur growled viciously, pointing its axe at him challengingly. Eventually, the minotaur's horned brothers joined it, taunting the Slayer from across the plateau.
The Slayer's annoyance hit a threshold, and the ever-simmering anger within his veins began to rise. The Praetor Suit blipped as it recognized the hostility, and a prelude began to play, A Slayer City thundering in the Slayer's helmet. Finally.
Each one of the beasts was roughly the size of a Baron of Hell and had brown fur, thick chests and arms, sharp fangs, horns, and large axes, but how strong were they comparatively? As the minotaurs interspersed themselves along the rocky plateau—between boulders and hoodoos—the Hellwalker itched to find out.
Enough was enough.
The Slayer turned his head to the still snoring Tiamat before slowly looking back at the feral beasts. They roared and yipped intensely. In response, he retracted the Doomblade and crushed the sharpening rock he'd found, leaping down from his spot on the boulder. With little thought, he shrugged Tiamat off and placed her on the safer side of the boulder. She didn't stir.
Satisfied, the Slayer turned to the beasts, rolling his shoulders as he studied the plateau one more time, memorizing the arena in less then a second. His fists clenched in preparation, and he directed a chilling gaze at his new adversaries, giving them one final chance to leave before the slaughter began. They didn't.
In the first instant, as the first minotaur took a step, giant-axe in hand, the Slayer's helmet lowered darkly.
Within the Praetor Suit, Meathook blared.
There was a flash—a billionth of a fraction of a blink of an eye passed, and before the first Minotaur even took its second step, its head was blown off by the Precision Bolt. The kill happened so quickly that none of the other beasts even saw what happened—they wouldn't have either way, because the frontmost group of minotaurs had been frozen solid by the Ice Bomb just milliseconds before the Precision Bolt even shot. Consequently, the explosion produced by the Precision Bolt headshot tore the frozen minotaurs apart, the shockwave causing those who weren't frozen to stumble. Before the faltered minotaurs could recover, a Frag Grenade landed at their hooves.
When the grenade went off a moment later, the area was awash with blood, fire, and shredded body parts. One minotaur that just barely managed to survive had its legs torn off, and as it writhed on the ground in agony, it looked up just in time to see the Slayer appear before it. Then the world spun as its head came clean off, the Doomblade cleaving through its neck.
In the single second that it took for the Slayer to end nearly half of the bull-headed beasts, he had already analyzed and determined all of their habits, tactics, and weaknesses. And by Daisy, they were weak. It felt like curb-stomping a pack of Imps to dust. For some reason, that only pissed the Slayer off more.
When the headless Minotaur's body touched the ground, the Slayer landed in a slight crouch, the rage beginning to build. As he straightened and raised his head, his fists clenched at his sides. Like a tidal wave that rose above even the tallest skyscrapers, his aura began to unleash, his eyes emitting a soft glow behind his helmet. And when the remaining Minotaurs saw him, saw the physical manifestation of the concept of Doom itself, it was only then that they realized. They'd fucked up.
In an instant, the Slayer vanished, such was his speed, firing and swapping between weapons in rapid succession as he crossed the battlefield with horrifying precision. In moments, the sheer destructiveness of his power made it as if every possible natural disaster had suddenly occurred at once.
The mountains shook as the environment was torn asunder, cracking as deafening explosions turned rock to dust and flesh to mist, massive fissures traveling up the sides of cliffs, causing large landmasses to shatter and tumble down the mountain in large landslides every time the Slayer struck, reshaping the earth. Fear and confusion filled the minotaurs and the creatures above—all of the mythical creatures of the mountain felt his wrath, shaking and hiding as the world quaked, tripping and falling atop the shifting lands.
The Slayer remained merciless.
A minotaur frantically swung its truck-sized axe at him, but he stepped into its guard and sliced off both of its legs in one fluid motion, then punched it in the torso, the impact causing its upper-half to explode in a gory mess, the force tearing up the rock beneath their feet in a wave. Milliseconds after, as the gore expanded outwards, the Slayer fired the Ballista upwards through the bloody mist, vaporizing some, and the twin beams of Argent eviscerated a minotaur that had jumped in an attempt to land an overhead strike. The plasma only stopped when it struck the underside of a cliff, causing a large energetic explosion that blew off large chunks of rock, causing the whole cliff to collapse in a cloud of dust.
A minotaur that had been behind the Slayer had been bringing its axe down on the Hellwalker with a roar, but the spray of blood from the first got into its eyes, and it fumbled on the way down—not that it would have been any trouble for the Slayer in the first place. The Hellwalker merely raised a gauntlet and caught the blade, and as the minotaur staggered, the Slayer kicked the beast in its chest and ripped the weapon from its hands.
Before it could recover, the Slayer brought the axe down upon the minotaur's head with such strength that when the axe easily cleaved the minotaur in half and hit the ground, the sheer power of the strike parted the earth itself, generating massive cracks that traveled along the ground at high speed, creating a divide, a canyon in the plateau several dozens of meters deep—it was as if tectonic plates suddenly shifted and grew apart. The shockwaves were so immense that the massive cliffs and mountain peaks that surrounded the battlefield seemed to shake and wobble uncontrollably, chunks of rock breaking off the tops, others toppling over and off the mountain. All of the creatures staggered from the quaking, some falling over, but the Slayer never stopped.
As he discarded what remained of the axe—now a broken stick, he dashed at the nearest minotaur, jumping to one side of the splitting canyon that he'd just created.
The beast managed to recover from the earthquake, and with fear in its movements, it swung horizontally at him. It missed when the Slayer dashed away, then every nerve in its body was set alight with agony as the Meathook speared through its back and out its chest, setting it aflame with energy-sapping flames. Before it could turn around, the Super Shotgun boomed, turning it into a cloud of gore just as the Meathook retracted from its body, flinging the Slayer towards the next minotaur.
Said minotaur could only open its mouth in terror before the Slayer crashed into it, palming its face with a grip that crushed bone before he slammed it headfirst into the ground. The impact obliterated the minotaur instantly, generating an explosion of force that excavated a large radius of rock from the ground in an eruption of debris, leaving nothing but a large, building-sized hole in the ground that started where the remains of the minotaur's mutilated body ended, and ended at the edge of the battlefield-splitting canyon.
As the Slayer rose from the ground at the edge of the smoking crater, he grasped the lip of the hole and tore a chunk of rock out, gripping for the mere sake of having something to grip. It crumpled to dust in his gauntlet, then he released it, and before the majority of it touched the ground, he had already disemboweled a dozen more minotaurs, turning them and the ground beneath them to paste with his fists.
In a short-lived miracle, one minotaur, which had watched its kin become craters in the ground, managed to block a Precision Bolt shot that turned its axe and one of its horns to splinters, only for its kneecap to liquefy under the pressure of the Combat Shotgun. As it howled in pain and fell forward, the Slayer grabbed it by its remaining horn, held its face up to the equipment launcher, and unleashed the Flame Belch on its visage. It struggled in agony before it slumped in the Slayer's grasp, and he crushed the remains of its horn in his grip before dropping it with a thud and surveying the battlefield.
The plateau was no longer recognizable as a singular entity, and neither was the mountain. Cliffs and high peaks had fallen, leveling out the terrain some, large clouds of debris billowed up everywhere, obscuring certain portions of the landscape from view, and large, cavernous cracks and newly created valleys ran up the mountain and along the plateau, breaking the latter up into multiple different landmasses that all differed in elevation by a meter each due to shifts in tectonic plates caused by the Slayer's strikes. At the base of the mountain itself, the fissures and cracks in the earth derived from the Slayer's strength that were carried down the plateau ended about a kilometer into the large forests, many trees of which had toppled over. Collectively, all this damage was as if multiple earthquakes, meteor strikes, hurricanes, and floods had all happened at once, tearing the lands asunder.
In fact, the sheer amount of dust and debris in the air caused by the shattering of rock made the air of the entire mountain hazy and smoky—rays of sunshine could be seen filtering in individually, emphasized by the larger pockets of dust particles.
It was nothing the Slayer hadn't seen before.
As he began moving again, he noticed that the slimes and chimeras had involuntarily fallen from their places atop the cliffs—cliffs that no longer existed. Some of the monsters whimpered before turning tail and running away, but others rose from the dust and growled at him, still fearful, but his aura driving them insane. The Slayer clenched his fists. He wouldn't do anything to the ones that ran, but the ones that decided to stay wouldn't be so lucky.
The chimeras were lion-like monsters with various animal features, each one as large as a small car, their tails ending with snake heads. The slimes were large masses of half-congealed fluids of various colors, some of which had cores, others without. He watched to see how they would position themselves, analyzing the intellect with which they fought.
As the creatures recollected themselves, the slimes kept far away, using the uneven, cracked terrain that the Slayer created to their advantage, hiding beneath rock alcoves or in dips in elevation. The lion-snake chimeras, however, positioned themselves at his flanks, waiting for an opportune moment. The remaining handful of the minotaurs stood ahead of him, hesitating, some stepping back, almost breaking out of whatever delirium they were in.
They were right to be fearful, but unfortunately for their health, fighting instinct overtook flight, and the battle continued.
The nimble chimeras moved first, sprinting like supernatural cheetahs at the Slayer. One was faster than the other, and when it approached, it leapt at him.
The Slayer stood his ground, and when the monster finally fell upon him—the other starting its own leap attack—it bared sharp fangs to tear him apart. He halted its charge by catching its lower and upper jaws with one hand each, then it whimpered when he used its own momentum against it and spun, swinging it like a car-sized bat to smash the other chimera. When the collision occurred, there was a loud crack, and the other chimera went flying into two of the remaining minotaurs, toppling them over.
As this occurred, the Slayer brought the chimera in his hands up to the equipment launcher, forced its jaw open, then launched a Frag Grenade down its throat. It cried out in pain, only to cry some more when the Slayer's fist cracked against its snout, throwing its head into the ground. While it was still down, the Slayer placed his boot on its head, then kicked it so hard that its body dug a trench across the ground, the friction shredding its fur and skin.
The Slayer sprinted after it, ducking beneath acidic projectiles from the slimes even as the choking chimera crashed through the other chimera and minotaurs, who had just been about to get up from their earlier fall, felling them again. As the group of monsters went up in an explosion of fire and guts when the swallowed Frag Grenade finally went off, showering the area with heat, blood, and debris, the Slayer finally caught up, and he leaped through the plume of a fire, winding his fist back.
When he shot through the other side, he was met by the last minotaur, which was flanked by two more chimeras. They looked surprised—appalled even, but he didn't let them react, his fist glowing with celestial might. When he punched, the minotaur turned to mist, and the shockwave shredded the Chimeras down to their bones, the winds clearing the area of smoke and fire whilst cutting into the ground, cracking and digging up rock, leaving a crater. As the Slayer landed, he jerked his head to the side, allowing an acid sphere to fly past.
The slimes—he was aware of most of their positions, but some were still hidden in craters and the dips in elevation. He needed to see them. As the Slayer dodged another ball of acid, the Super Shotgun appeared, and he used the Meathook to fling himself into the skies from an attacking chimera, obliterating its upper-half with boom in the process. He was gone before the guts and entrails of his latest casualty could splatter across the ground.
As he ascended, the slimes interspersed throughout the battlefield spat high-velocity acid spheres at him. What they didn't realize was that every attack was a slime's position revealed to him. Just like that, he was able to see them all, his eyes darting from place to place at extreme speed. To get out of their effective range, he evaded a few more shots as the Ballista appeared in his grasp, then he fired at the slime nearest to him. The slime evaporated instantly, the recoil propelling the Slayer higher than before. He fired one more time, killing another slime and launching himself higher still.
When the acid could no longer reach him, he let gravity take him, swapping the Ballista with the Heavy Cannon. Gravity would accelerate him to a speed that would be difficult to hit. He'd use it to his advantage. As he began to fall, he eyed the individual slimes and chimeras below, then fired the bottomless Micro-Missiles in short bursts at each individual enemy. From afar, it would appear as if hundreds of twirling flares appeared, each one homing in on a different position on the ground—there were so many missiles, it looked as if a massive aircraft had launched all of its anti-missile flares at the same time, covering the sky with traces of smoke and fire.
The slimes were unable to evade as the missiles stuck to them, embedding themselves within before detonating, the Argent Energy payload devastating them entirely. The chimeras were slightly more swift, but once two or three Micro-Missiles drilled into their flesh, they stumbled and moaned, crashing against boulders, destroying them with their weight before they themselves were destroyed from the inside out, their boiling insides steaming as they splattered everywhere.
As the Slayer neared the ground, falling at terminal velocity, the Heavy Cannon was replaced by the Chainsaw. A chimera that had been dazed and confused by the shaking, the haze of dust, and the copious amounts of smoke barely reacted when he came down atop its head, the Chainsaw rumbling its song of dismemberment. It cleaved through the skull, then mutilated the spine, rending and tearing flesh so fast, so easily that it might as well have been a sword. The Praetor Suit was awash with an eruption of blood as the chimera was bisected, and what green armor was still visible became a deep, dripping red. The Slayer absorbed what energy the creature had, converting it directly in mass—Argent Energy enhanced ammunition to refill his weapons.
As the chainsaw disappeared, the Slayer looked around through the light haze. He had memorized the position of every enemy, saw what direction and speed they were moving while he'd been falling, then quickly determined exactly where each creature should be. There was nothing they could do. Thus, the slaughter began anew.
Bones and flesh were ripped and torn, beasts falling by the dozens, not one of them even coming close to touching the Slayer. He dodged and weaved, blocked and deflected. He tore limbs from his enemies and beat their heads in with them, stomped on skulls, turning brains to mush under his armored boots. He carved and sliced with the Doomblade, punched with might to crack the earth and cause earthquakes, striking fear into all who faced him.
Eventually the crowd wore thin, leaving only the last dozen adversaries to challenge his might out of the original hundred. There was no pause in the rampage, and the moment the Slayer's gaze fell upon them, he ripped the Doomblade from his most recent kill and charged, directing a cold glare at them. He crossed the battlefield in a stride, raising his right fist, blood-red energy crackling intensely around it. There wasn't even time enough for them to turn their heads when he appeared before them.
When he finally punched, it was all over. Nothing could describe what happened to the beasts, because there was nothing left of them to describe when the Argent splendor discharged violently. Really, nothing could describe the punch itself, such was its power.
The initial impact alone was immense, shattering the ground in a radius that annihilated the plateau, excavating the entire land formation and launching it in the form of countless boulders the size of trucks and small buildings nearly to the clouds—the force exerted on the mountain itself was felt for miles, crumbling rock deep within the mountain, causing large cracks the size of canyons to run up along its sides, landslides and entire chunks of it falling or exploding. The shockwave that immediately followed the initial punch vibrated at the highest frequency, and any trees and rocks that hadn't already been destroyed that got caught in its ever-expanding wake were obliterated at the microscopic level.
From the perspective of someone standing twenty miles away, it seemed as though half of the entire mountain was swallowed by a cloud of smoke, the rest of it wobbling almost like gelatin, like it would topple over at any moment. From that distance even, the ground quaked more violently than any earthquake as the shockwaves permeated throughout the mountain and its surrounding ecosystems, making the ground appear as though it were undulating.
The event lasted for only thirty seconds, but by the end of it, a cloud of dust nearly the size of the mountain itself billowed into the sky. The Slayer lowered his fist as the dust settled, small rocks and debris bouncing on the ground near him as they finally came back down. He took a look around at the devastation.
A large portion of the mountain had been carved out completely, almost forming the shape of a crescent. The ground was now even and flat, but it was all dust—smithereens, remains of rock. There were no trees or boulders for miles, no more plateau, no cliffs or rock formations—just miles and miles of flat, brown, burnt, dry dirt. Beyond that, the rest of the mountain and the lands surrounding it had a few cracks, canyons, and fissures to cope with, and some of the forests had been destroyed.
Had he overdone it?
The Slayer huffed, his rage settling down, the Praetor Suit blipping as Meathook faded into low guitar riffs. He barely noticed that the force of his attack had cleaned the Praetor Suit of all the blood that had covered it.
While he was using strength nowhere near the level he used against Maligog, his expectations had driven him to use a little more than he should have. These were only animals after all. He needed to dial it back a bit, he would admit.
Still, the beasts had numbered in the hundreds, yet the entire encounter had lasted only a couple of minutes. What a disappointment.
What made it worse was the fact the he'd been holding back immensely. Had he wanted, he could've taken them all out in seconds. It was almost sad. He'd waited eight hours for a warm-up...
The Slayer scowled as he turned back towards his companion...who was now very much awake, standing in the spot he'd left her with what appeared to be a half-cracked magic shield around her, the boulder nowhere to be seen. Shit, he didn't realize she'd been in the blast radius. She looked fine though.
In fact, she waved amicably as if he hadn't just punched away the mountainside and devastated its adjacent ecosystems. All the better if she didn't make a fuss about it. He'd need to be a bit more careful next time, though.
The Hellwalker slowly made his way over. As he approached, he saw the stars in her eyes.
"Hey!" She called to him as the shield around her turned to motes of light that disappeared. She put a hand on her hip to appear casual, but there was a noticeable childlike excitement she was trying to hold back. "Wasn't that the fabled Blood Punch just now?"
...The what?
"It is said that the strength of your blows are so potent that no matter the foe, your fists would always draws blood from your enemies, your punches always accompanied by a magnificent flash of red. Many of the Survivors have tried to recreate the technique and destructive power of the Blood Punch, but none have come close..."
She sighed a smile, dropping her arm from her hip as she stepped towards him. "And the way you fought—so brutal yet so elegant. Untouchable by any of your foes. You don't play around and aren't arrogant in your ways. Simply magnificent."
She bit her lip as she praised him, her eyes lidded slightly, her voice low and sultry. They stood in front of each other now. The Slayer tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Hmm, I'd love to see more where that came from, Master. If you are willing to show me, that is~"
There was a moment of awkward pause between them, then the smile on Tiamat's face slipped a little in favor of a more sheepish expression.
"Too soon...? Yeah too soon..."
What was she talking about?
Tiamat didn't answer his unasked question. Instead, she stretched with her arms above her head in a way that emphasized her curves. "Mmm, well, good morning, Master. Usually after slumber like that, I would stretch my wings with a fight against all the vermin that try to encroach on my territory, but I see you've already taken care of that."
She looked around at the miles and miles of nothing but dirt. The Slayer's gaze followed hers for a moment before they ended with their eyes on one another again. Her expression was quite stern.
"Y'know..." She poked his chest. He didn't move. "If you'd have woken me, we could have taken them on together, Master. Get to know each other a little more...intimately?" She raised a coy brow at him.
The Slayer merely looked to the side dismissively.
Tiamat huffed. "I guess I'll just have to settle with some stretches if you don't mind? Master...?"
She frowned when he turned away on account of approaching footsteps, and she looked past him, following his gaze to see a figure approaching. It was a dryad.
The Slayer huffed. Right—these had been there with all the other monsters. Why didn't they attack him?
The female wood spirit smiled meekly at the Slayer, completely ignoring the devastation around her. How had she even survived?
The Hellwalker had his answer when he saw more dryads seemingly manifests from roots that grew from the ground. They'd hidden when the fight started...
Each dryad that manifested took the form of a beautiful woman, well-endowed or not. As they took shape, they seemed to be cheering on the original, who finally stopped in front of the Slayer.
Her skin was a creamy white, her eyes a vibrant green, her hair a cascade of dark oak, her lips pink and full, and her chest a modest size despite her small frame. She donned a green skirt made of flowers and foliage.
Nobody made a move for a second, the Slayer unsure of what to do, Tiamat surprised and interested. A beat of silence passed, then the dryad took a step closer to the Slayer, blushing, her hands behind her back.
"Unbelievable," Tiamat muttered. The Slayer looked at her for a second. She was in awe.
He looked back at the dryad to see her smiling with her teeth as she brought her hands before her. Suddenly, her fingers lengthened and thinned, becoming small tree branches at the tips, and from a large flower on the bridge between her two palms, something sprouted. It was a sort of large seed the size of the Slayer's fist.
Tiamat gasped, prompting the Slayer to turn his head impatiently, expecting an explanation this time. Tiamat looked into his visor, her eyes flicking back and forth between her master and the spirit.
"Erm...the maiden before you is a wood nymph—a dryad to be exact. As spirits of nature, dryads are the purest beings next to angels, and they can live in any place that has nature. However, to ensure the highest chance of survival, they often seek out the most nurturing of environments for their offspring, usually any place that is pure in intention and energy. For a dryad to be offering you its offspring...she seems to have acknowledged you as the purest thing she can find. This implies that you are...well, essentially it means that you're a good person, no matter what you may believe about yourself. If you were to take her offspring, it would grow to be strong and resilient in the presence of your purity."
The Slayer turned back towards the dryad, though he made no moves. Even as he stared, the Dryad continued to smile as if she hadn't just witnessed him slaughter a small army of monsters and wipe away the mountain and some forests. She didn't waver at all.
"Should you take her offspring, you could gain a potential ally, and a strong one at that. Given the right treatment, dryads can be a force to reckon with. You wouldn't even need to do much to take care of them—plenty of water and sunlight, or even just your presence will do."
The Slayer heard her words but cared little for them at the moment. Memories of a time in which he had taken good care of a beautiful little rabbit resurfaced in his mind. The idea that he had the power to nurture and grow such a small and delicate creature gave him a sense of accomplishment and pride at the time. As the memory faded away, the Slayer found himself gently closing a gauntlet around the seed, plucking it from the flower.
The moment he did, there was a hum as runic symbols running along the seed glowed a soft blue. The dryad silently cheered, dancing happily before wrapping the Slayer in a short, woody hug. Just as quickly, the dryad released him and skipped away to the large group of her kin. The women each waved, giving coy smiles or winking in a flirtatious manner before disappearing to who knows where.
Behind the Slayer, Tiamat waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Well, aren't you just a Casanova?"
Beyond a dry look, he didn't reply, tucking the large seed away into one of his empty back-pouches.
"Oh, come on," Tiamat whined when he started walking away. "I jest, Master! Hey, wait up! I haven't gotten to do my stretches yet."
She caught up to him quickly, and thus their trek to Lilith continued. It was as if the fight that had occurred not five minutes before had never even happened.
That was when a fifteen meter tall western dragon landed heavily before them.
"Tannin?"
The Blaze Meteor Dragon saw everything. Felt everything. Although the minotaurs, chimeras, and slimes weren't considered strong among beings of his own caliber, it did not change a thing about his—the being's mythical power. When he fought, it was with brutal and unrelenting efficiency. Each one of his blows had been needlessly overpowered, enough to bring Ultimate-Class Devil's to their knees, and yet he threw around such strength and energy at weaklings as if it were trivial—as if he had much strength to spare. Tannin knew this to be true—the endless well of energy within him never dipped, even when his fists flew and his weapons discharged, blazing with might.
And the phenomenon that occurred with his punches, the flashes of red—Tannin had seen beings that could move mountains with their blows, but the way the earth caved beneath this man, the way he created permanent canyons and ravines, splitting the tectonic plates beneath his feet...Tannin had never seen such a thing.
As the being fought with fury, Tannin witnessed his aura expand. It was only when the aura washed over him that Tannin could confirm his justified suspicions. Rage, anger, loathing, killing intent filled his senses, just as it had the other day, but to a lesser degree, only giving him an innate sense of danger. His fight or flight instinct went wild on the inside, but with willpower and discipline gathered over five millennia, he remained relatively unfazed, though still in shock. This was definitely the malicious one, no doubt about it.
When the battle ended with the mountain being shaved away by an energetic punch, the aura of malice fading away, Tannin had been prepared to leave and immediately report to the higher-ups. Two things stopped him. First and foremost, Tiamat was alive and well! To Tannin's surprise, the Chaos Karma Dragon interacted with the being amicably, as if they'd been friends for years. That information threw everything Tannin knew so far out of the window. He had not anticipated this, but he was still skeptical. How could one with such malice within them make allies with Tiamat of all beings?
What happened next crushed all doubt left within the Blaze Meteor Dragon.
A dryad had offered the being her offspring. The implications were not lost on him—it was unbelievable! Despite the endless rage that filled their being, their heart was still pure!?
As mind-boggling as at was, Tannin knew when to relent. With a heavy weight in his wings, he confronted the duo. Tiamat recognized him instantly, and for that, he was thankful.
Greetings went smoothly, but when he inquired about the being, he was not prepared for the answer. With much zeal, Tiamat explained the situation to him. Then he understood just what he was dealing with.
Now in his anthropomorphic form, his maw gaped in astonishment. "You mean to tell me that he," the dragon emphasized, pointing a claw at the being, "is the Doom Slayer!? The one who'd single-handedly fought with the forces of Hell and banished the World Eater from this world five millennia ago!? And he's your Master!?"
Tiamat merely smiled, nodding. "Yep."
Oh shit.
That...was a lot to take in.
"I-I...I see." He wasn't quite sure what say. What was one even supposed to say to such news? He was shocked beyond imagination, vivid yet faded memories clawing their way out from the depths of his soul.
Five-thousand years ago, when the world had gone to shit, Tannin had been one of the few to survive and remember the horrible invasion. Back then, he had struggled both physically and emotionally as he and his companions were trampled relentlessly by the horde. The simple act of living had cost so much, and the longer his heart stayed beating, the higher the toll had been. Eventually, hopeless and alone, Tannin had been backed into a corner. Full of sadness, fear, longing, and regret, he had resigned himself to a terrible fate, ready to face whatever afterlife would greet him.
But in what Tannin thought to be his final moments, right before the denizens of darkness descended upon him, he came. The Destroyer, the one who brought retribution where there was no hope, the one who brought light to the endless shadows. The Doom Slayer, savior of sentient life, Scourge of Hell. His arrival had been coincidental in relation to Tannin's status and position, yes, but in the end it changed nothing.
At the time, Tannin had been blinded by his injuries and could only catch glimpses of the one who'd saved him, flashes of green amongst the endless red. At the time, he could feel the rage, anger, loathing, and killing intent that the Slayer had exuded, and now in the present he knew why the aura was so familiar.
The Slayer had saved him, took down demons that Tannin could barely scratch in mere seconds, then left in a blur of green. Tannin never saw him again, but time and again, he heard stories across the survivors about how they'd been saved by his might.
And now, somehow, in some unusual twist of fate, that same man stood before him, tall and strong in his otherworldly armor, yet still ever-so angry and mysterious. Tannin was at a complete loss for words.
Should he feel joy? Fear? He had no fucking clue. What superseded all else was total shock. Why was he here!? Where had he come from!? What did he want?
Those questions took up everything in his mind. He nearly opened his maw to blurt out one such question, then he stopped, clarity coming back to him. What was he thinking!?
After a beat of uncomfortable silence Tannin sighed as he fell to one knee. In shock or not, Tannin was still a prideful dragon, and he recognized that he owed the man. With respect from warrior-to-warrior, he spoke. "Before we continue, I must say this. On behalf of all dragons from then and now, I thank you, Doom Slayer. Had it not been for your selfless actions five millennia ago, I don't doubt that the world we stand on would be no more. You have saved me, my people, and many more, and for that you have my gratitude. If there is anything that I can do to repay you, I will do what my power enables of me."
On one knee he eyed the Slayer carefully. The man only stared back through an unsettling opaque visor. The only thing confirming that he was of flesh and blood were his damn thick exposed biceps. The bridge of his nose was barely visible, and his eyes might as well have been nonexistent. Even so, Tannin could tell.
He was being studied with purpose. He was being judged.
Tannin didn't let it bother him. Instead, he took a deep breath, then exhaled audibly as he stood up. He thought for a moment, reminding himself of what the mission was.
Find the source and determine the cause. Ascertain the being's intentions. Determine Tiamat's status.
Two down. One to go. He took a second to collect his thoughts.
"That being said," he started, looking into the Slayer's visor. "I must know what your intentions are for this world, Lord Slayer."
Tiamat didn't react to the request, her reptilian tail swishing about behind her human form, but Tannin could feel the narrowing of eyes on his own. The Slayer was growing suspicious of him...?
Was the Slayer not aware? It seemed an explanation was in order.
He added quickly, "Let me clarify. I am unsure if you are aware, but only a day ago, there had been an event. An event in which a malicious aura was carried throughout the entirety of the Underworld, and perhaps even to Earth and Heaven as well. Nobody understood what had happened or where it came from, and fear spread like a fire. However, after a time, my comrades and I had managed to pinpoint the source of the aura."
He grunted, putting his claws to his chin. "It was then that I came here, whereupon I discovered that the aura was from none other than you, Lord Slayer. It may not be my place to say, but I'll have you know that the entirety of the supernatural world is in a fucking uproar right now, and you were the cause. Forgive me if I am a little vulgar. I have a duty to protect my people, and I must ascertain your intentions to know if any action must be taken."
He tried not to make it sound like a threat. He really did, but it ended up sounding like one still. It must have been luck that he didn't piss anyone off, for the Slayer only stared at him for another moment before he shared a look with Tiamat, who gave him a slightly exasperated look in return. The armored man gave her a slow nod, and it was as if an entire conversation took place within the blink of an eye.
Tannin shifted his attention to his fellow dragon as she turned to him.
"Our apologies, Tannin. When Master had first arrived in this world, he had unintentionally let out a burst of his aura." She looked to the side, crossing her arms. "I knew it would be bad, but not this... Sorry Master. We may need to deal with a few people in the future."
Tannin hummed at that. "So it was merely an accident is what you're saying?" he asked plainly.
"That is correct." She smiled. "In fact, beyond living as he pleases, Master seeks only to banish the evil from this world, as well as reacquire his stolen property."
Tannin...was surprised, though he shouldn't have been. After the dryad had offered her seed, it was clear. The Slayer had no malicious intent for this world or its peoples. In fact, he wished to go about bringing good? That sounded fantastic! For many others it would be a pipe dream, but for him? Maybe...
Wait...
"Stolen property?" he raised a brow, crossing his arms. He had a funny feeling.
"Ah, yes. The Relics of Doom."
"..." He knew it. Somehow he knew it. "W-well, I must say that such a task won't be easy. The Relics of Doom have been in circulation for over two-thousand years..." He coughed into his fist. "But to think that you were the owner after all, Lord Slayer."
His eyes swept across the Hellwalker's still form, roaming over the intricacies of his armor. His eyes were drawn down, and he was only slightly surprised to see Tiamat's tail curling around the Slayer's armored leg. Said Slayer gave the woman a dry look.
In spite of the dare-he-say cute antics that Tiamat was evidently developing for her new master, Tannin frowned as another thought came to mind. "Tiamat, have you considered how your status as Lord Slayer's familiar could affect the current state of affairs? You are one of the Dragon Kings, after all. I won't tell you what to do, but at least consider the consequences of your actions."
"Meh, don't worry about it," she brushed the matter off. "I can teleport whenever and wherever I please. If it's coming to watch over the rating games, then you have nothing to worry about."
"That is not what I mean," Tannin groaned. "You are a Dragon King, Tiamat. For you to suddenly serve under a Master after having been free for over five millennia is unthinkable."
The Blue-haired dragon woman tilted her head slightly. "It's not unthinkable. You joined the devils after all, did you not?"
The moment the question left her lips, Tannin felt an intense and uncomfortable stare boring into him. He dared not look at the source, but the sheer intensity caused him to sweat.
"T-That has nothing to do with this!"
Tiamat scoffed. "Sure it does. And while we're on this topic, you can't tell me that you came here only for the good of your people. The Satans sent you, did they not?"
The stare burned, but at the very least it wasn't a glare. Tannin hoped to whatever deity out there that Tannin would shut the fuck up about that topic. He'd not an idea why the Slayer would be so interested in the devils, but it was getting unbearably uncomfortable.
"L-Look, Tia," he said, trying to regain composure. "You know how the supernatural is. News of your subservience will spread, and many will seek answers as to who your Master is. Power attracts power after all. People may come to challenge your Master, and while I don't fear for him, the world will only be put into further unrest."
"Hmm..." the mature woman put a thoughtful hand to her chin, a rare, playful smile on her face. "A shame that is. Too bad it doesn't matter."
"What?" Tannin inquired, shocked. "What do you mean?"
"Well, like I apologized to Master earlier. People will be coming for us either way due to the nature of Master's arrival, so it would be better to just roll with it. Not only that, Master wishes to see Lilith and the devil society in hopes of learning more about this world and the whereabouts of his belongings. We are heading there right now in fact!" she said cheerily.
Tannin nearly had stroke. "Y-You are headed to the capital right now!?"
"Yep."
The Blaze Meteor Dragon felt his eyes being drawn to the Slayer, who looked at him coldly. His fists were clenched slightly...
If that wasn't a storm waiting to happen, Tannin didn't know what was.
"W-Wait," he stammered. "Allow me to head back first. I must contact the Satans first if you're going to be so forward about this. Devil society is in an uproar right now, so if you come without care, there will be armies waiting to attack you—!"
He was cut off by the sound of heavy boots steadily getting softer. He looked, only to see the Slayer walking away, straight on a path to Lilith. Tiamat was quite literally dragged along, her tail still wrapped tightly around the Slayer's leg. The man didn't seem encumbered at all.
"You need not worry, Tannin! I will contact Ajuka if need be. If you would like to report to him though, you best be quick! My Master is in a little bit of an impatient mood right now because some weaklings tried to waste his time. Farewell, though! It was good to see you again."
Tannin gaped, his gaze following the two as they vacated the premise. As the disappeared down the mountain, he snapped out of his shock, grunting as he opened a Dragon Gate. So this is how things were!?
Shit, he had to get back and report quickly. Whether he liked it or not, things were going to change. Despite himself, Tannin felt a headache coming on.
Day 2
Asia "Daisy" Argento was a very lonely girl. She never knew her parents, having been orphaned since birth. At a very young age, she was taken in by the church, where she was raised as a nun. She never had a lot of friends, and her shyness didn't help, but she tried very hard. All she wanted was to make others happy, to be accepted by them, and to be, well, loved. And she was! After she had developed her sacred gear, Twilight Healing, a gift from God, she had been able to help others as she'd wanted, to put smiles on their faces, and to receive their love in return. Yes, things were right, only...instead of making friends and family, she'd been placed on a pedestal, isolated and alienated from everyone else.
Don't get her wrong—she loved her position as a holy maiden! She had been able to help people feel better, to make their frowns turn to smiles, and that made her happy. But, if there was one thing she couldn't deny, it was that she was lonely. Possibly the loneliest girl in the church. She knew that all she needed was the love and affection of the Holy Lord, but even then, she wished that she could have made a friend, someone she could talk to everyday and be happy with.
When she was excommunicated from the church for healing a devil, she had been devastated. In a flash, everything she knew and loved had disappeared. She didn't regret healing the devil, but that didn't stop the pain from flowing. Despite everything, she held on, looking to the lord for guidance. Eventually a group of fallen angels had found her and shipped her overseas. She was stuck, and had no idea what to do, so she followed.
That was when everything changed. On her plane to Kuoh, for one reason or another, a lifetime of memories came flowing back. A lifetime in which had been loved and cherished, but not on a pedestal. She had been family.
These visions made her weep, and the want, the need for a friend, a family became everything. Somehow, she knew that her father, the one from her previous life had returned from his mission—he was home at last! She needed to see him again, needed to feel his warm embrace again, needed to be loved and cherished again! She knew it was selfish and that such thoughts would be frowned upon in the church, but she didn't care as much anymore.
On that plane ride, she had found her sense of direction again, and she knew that one way or another, she needed to reunite with Father.
As naive as she was, Asia recognized that the fallen angels wouldn't help her with this in any way shape or form. So, for the very first time in her short life, she rebelled. She avoided the abandoned church that the fallen angels told her to rendezvous at and tried to keep herself safe. But as hard as she tried, she was still a frail, meek little girl.
And now, here she was, scared and alone on a desolate street, her eyes wide as she stared at the crazy stray priest before her, tears in her eyes.
"Yahoo! Look who it is! Aren't you the bitch that was supposed to come to the church? Eh?" The man had a crazy, wide-eyed look, and he held a gun in one hand, licking it up and down in a deranged manner. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue all of sudden, baby?"
Asia breathed heavily as she took a step back. "W-Who are you?"
"Ne!?" the man uttered suddenly. He straightened himself and bowed a straight ninety-degrees, clicking his boots together, his priest outfit lazily swaying in the late night wind. "Where are my manners? Priest Sellzen, at your service," he greeted politely. His smile suddenly shifted into an ugly grin. "But you can just call me Father Freed—or better yet, Papa Freed—GAHAHAHAHA!" His laugh was unhinged, Asia could tell.
She took another step back, but this time Freed stepped forward. "Hey hey, where do you think you're going, cutie? Don't you know, I've been searching for you for HOURS!" he shouted. "You were supposed to be at the church! Why didn't you just be a good little girl and obey?"
Another step back, another forward. "I-I didn't want-t to. P-Please leave me a-alone."
The priest stilled. He wore a disturbingly neutral expression. After a moment, it broke down, and the man spiraled into a cackling mess. "L-Leave you alone!? Sure, I can do that..."
Asia was hopeful when he turned around and started walking away.
"SIKE!" Only for him to whip back around and appear before her in a burst of speed. In an instant, her hands were pinned above her head, and she yelped in fear. She looked at him, tears streaming down her face as he snarled. "Listen up you bitch! I've been given specific orders to bring you in. They didn't tell me what condition you had to be in though, so either you come with me, or we can do this the hard way."
The blonde nun whimpered in sheer terror as she felt a long, wet tongue trailing down her neck.
"C'mon, what will it be, huh!?"
"I...I-I want to see Father again..."
Silence... Then the priest went hysterical. "HAHAHAHAHA! Your father!? Knowing how the church operates, that shitty guy is probably dead. But there's no need to worry, because I can be your father."
"W-What?"
"Now, girly," Freed grinned evilly, his voice darkening. "Be good for your new daddy."
The air was suddenly cold as Asia felt her nun's outfit being ripped right off of her body, exposing her nudity underneath. She cried out as Freed laughed, licking at her in places that shouldn't be touched. Through it all, she cried tears of fear, loneliness, and most of all, desperation.
Desparation.
Desperation to get out of this mess. Desperation for Freed to stop. Desperation for a friend. Desperation to be saved. Desperation for love and affection. Desperation...to see Father again.
And through her tears, as her emotions ran rampant within her, a cluttered mess of fear, sadness, loneliness, and desperation, something within her, an object, a Relic manifested alongside Twilight Healing, a Relic that had been long lost since the atrocities of the Great War, a Relic long thought to have been lost through irresponsibility. The Relic—the one and only Relic taken by the Biblical God, tossed into the sacred gear system on a whim, but long dormant because requirements had never been met for its activation. A Relic once held by the Chaos Karma Dragon herself.
Through a combination of all these factors, something happened. Then there was a flash of light.
"What the fuck!?" Freed fell back as he was pushed away by an intense light, something appearing between him and Asia.
When the light dissipated, Asia stared up in awe. It was an ethereal man, an apparition of a being clad in otherworldly white plate reminiscent of old Crusader Era armors. His armor seemed to glow a white light, and in his hands, he twirled a spear, the spearhead a blazing blue energy. Almost instinctively, the man stood protectively in front of Asia, pointing his spear of energy at the wary priest.
Somehow, Asia knew his name: Spearguy, the Night Sentinel.
"Oi, don't fuck with me!" Freed growled, pointing his gun. "I'll turn you into Swiss cheese ya shitty fuck!"
Loud pops echoed throughout the night as the light gun discharged. Asia jumped in fright, but Spearguy stood strong in front of her, twirling his energy spear, somehow deflecting all of the bullets!
"Wha—" As soon as the clip was emptied, Spearguy rushed forward, his shining armor like a beacon of hope to Asia. With precision the apparition thrust his spear forward, aiming to impale Freed. Sparks flew as the tip of the spear collided with a blade of light. Freed had managed to block the blow.
"Tsk, shitty bastard!"
Then, they moved. Freed and Spearguy clashed against one another with such speed that the dust was kicked up from the road, sparks flying everywhere. Asia only watched in awe as the two moved in a blur, dancing around each other, stabbing and slashing. It soon became clear who was winning.
Spearguy chased after the deranged priest, keeping up to his speed with ease. Try as he might, Freed couldn't evade any of the attacks, only block them or barely deflect them. Frustrated, the stray priest leapt off the street and onto a lamppost to create some distance, only for the entire thing to come crashing down as Spearguy cut it in half, sparks flying.
Falling face first, Freed only barely managed to turn, blocking a strike aimed at his throat. The strength threw him across the street, forcing him into a backflip to gain balance. He looked up with a scowl on his face, ready to yell profanities, only to pale seeing a fist of steel rapidly approaching his face.
"Fu—"
There was a loud crash as Freed was sent flying through a brick wall, causing a large part of it to collapse.
"Ow fuck! Goddammit! Shit, shit, shit! I'll be back, you hear me! Shitty fucker!" As the deranged Priest rose from the rubble, he let loose a string of curses before a smoke bomb went off at his feet. Then, he was gone.
Asia only watched in wide-eyed wonder as Spearguy made his way over to her. He was nearly twice as tall as her, and his armor was thick and metallic, but for some reason, Asia felt no fear or intimidation—only comfort. Spearguy rubbed her head softly, and she felt the tears in her eyes as what had just transpired finally caught up with her. She didn't say anything, and neither did the apparition. They just held one another as she wept.
After a while, when she began to calm down, Spearguy kneeled. He took one of her hands and she gave no resistance as he guided it over to where his heart would be. She nodded slowly as she understood, then hugged him one more time before he faded into light particles, returning to his place in the Relic. Even if he was gone, Asia could still feel his protective presence watching over her, ready to jump out at a moment's notice.
With new warmth and courage in her heart, Asia continued throughout the night, fearless in her search for refuge. Together, she and Spearguy would grow stronger. And very soon, she would find and reunite with her father.
CODEX ENTRY - The Nature of Succubi:
Stirred by the Doom Slayer's arrival in this universe, the inherent instincts of many supernatural races were pushed to the limit. Dragons took the skies in search of the intense aura that dared to challenge their ideals. Youkai trembled as a powerful life essence reverberated through the lands. Indeed, many were provoked by his power. But none were spurred on more than succubi.
Succubi lived to give and receive pleasure. They sustained themselves on the essence of men and grew more powerful with its consumption. Among succubi, there was always one constant, an intricate rule that excited them, and to an extent, incubi as well. Their instincts were hard-wired to seek out virgins. The circumstances behind this are simple: virgins, being pure as they are, give off the most energy, and as such, they are not only considered delicacies among succubi, they also empower succubi the most. Another thing to note is that virgins age like fine wine. As long as they remain healthy and their bodies do not age too far, the older the virgin, the more powerful their sexual essence is.
Of course, in this world where instinct and passion reign supreme, the idea of a virgin lasting more than forty years before having their chastity stolen from them is considered a myth, a legend among races like the succubi—something that would never happen in an eternity. Even virgins at the age of thirty-five were worth a fortune in businesses among the succubi.
So, what would happen if a being several eons old, one of godlike status who had also managed to keep his v-card under lock and key for billions and billions of years, suddenly existed? And, during the brief time in which he had suddenly appeared, what if he had let out a burst of energy showcasing not only his rage, but also his infinite well of virgin energy, so potent and thick in the air that it could be tasted on the tongues of the essence eaters?
With his very arrival, the Doom Slayer ignited the flames of a massive world war between the essence eaters, but not one of battle and bloodshed. No, this war was a race, a grand prix for the ultimate prize, and the succubi, passionate as they were, were willing to do anything to get this prize.
A/N: This chapter has been remastered.
Music:
Play A Slayer's City when it shows up.
Play Meathook when it shows up.
When Meathook ends, skip to the section at 2:46 - 3:09 in the OST, then stop.