Chapter Fifteen
Lucifaad, Lucifaad Territory
A Bloodbath.
There was no better word to describe Grayfia Lucifuge's surroundings as she surveyed the blood-soaked streets of the Warrens 22nd Borough.
These streets were the scene of a district purge, but it was intended to root out Underhive dissidents. The casualties at her feet were not insurgents, but Inquisitors billeted to 'The Pit.'
The entire area was shielded by a red-hued magical barrier, its arcana blotting out the hanging artificial sun and keeping the unwelcome away. Grayfia ignored the Inquisitors on guard duty, and her reputation alone kept them from halting her short of the barrier.
Dozens of Scribes from the Inquisitorious Tellacarn Division examined the corpses and surrounding structures for any information regarding the massacre's perpetrators. Their focused gazes never once strayed toward the heir to the Lucifuge clan, and they went about their business while subconsciously avoiding Grayfia.
The Inquisitorious knew that the Silver-Haired Butcher was only summoned if the situation threatened to spiral out of their control, making her presence a hindrance to the Acolyte's morale.
The last time the Inquisitorious called in Grayfia was to put down a significant insurrection not years earlier. Investigating a District Purge outside standard protocol and that fact alone put all of them on edge. They appreciated her support, but many Inquisitors preferred keeping her out of the loop.
But this one was different.
"Lady Lucifuge." Grayfia recognized the voice as Seeker Gorgith of House Kelandora. A veteran Inquisitor who spent most of his career patrolling the Warrens and, on occasion, the Underhive. These corpses belonged to his command, and he personally requested her assistance in this investigation. "Glad you could join us."
"You shouldn't be." Grayfia retorted, her voice as cold as a passing blizzard. "Why am I here, Gorgith?"
The Seeker's eyes strayed to her right, where a trail of bodies led towards a corner street a hundred meters to the south. A significant amount of blood was seeping into the junction, but its source was obscured by a scorched four-story structure that was set ablaze during the fighting.
"It's best if I show you." Gorgith stepped over a tarp-covered body and led the Lucifuge into the aforementioned alleyway. "I can any questions you have while we walk."
"How many men did you lose?" Grayfia didn't hesitate to start pursuing the Seeker for answers.
"Two sections worth, about ninety-five Inquisitors of varying rank." Gorgith supplied, his expression turning sour. "Two Hierophants were among the deceased."
Which also meant two Nobles were just butchered inside the Warrens.
The Lord Inquisitor would not tolerate this catastrophe, and he would inevitably call for another purge to remind the Underhive and the Warren the price of rebellion.
"Their names?" Hierophants were Junior Officers in the Inquisitorious, exclusively made up of devils from the Extra Demons Houses. Several of Grayfia's cousins were Hierophants in the Inquisitorious, and she dreaded the possibility of bringing to her aunts their offspring's demise.
Thankfully, Gorgith cut this line of thought with his immediate reply. "Zorthrin of House Sargatanas and Irzathas of House Satanchia. No one you have to lose sleep over since they were relatively minor members of their respective households."
Grayfia refused to comment on their lack of status, opting to remain silent while observing their environment. The number of dead Inquisitors was alarming, but her keen eyesight revealed a jarring image.
Laying at her feet was a deceased Acolyte sporting the telltale signs of a lancer scald in the dead center of his helm. The ionized plasma ripped through his faceplate and blasted a fist-sized hole where his nose used to be.
Grayfia would have chalked it up as a fortuitous shot by the insurgents, but as she and Gorgith proceeded into the sectioned-off street, they came across several more Inquisitors displaying the same fatal blows.
Once is a coincidence but twice was a little far-fetched considering the Inquisitor's training and discipline. The former alone would have ensured a quick response to the ambush, and the latter should have kept them calm in the face of danger.
Her internal questioning only seemed to increase as she thoroughly surveyed the massacre. The torsos of several dead Acolytes were gruesomely bent inward, and their cracked helms revealed shattered skulls that spilled brain matter upon the marred pavement.
Even more, Inquisitors almost appeared relatively unscathed were it not for the near imperceivable cuts in their body armor, seemingly tearing their innards apart. The amount of blood spilling from their wounds was too much to be anything less than lethal, and she suspected that senjutsu was involved.
The easy part was figuring out how insurgents kill nearly a hundred Inquisitors without suffering a single casualty.
Grayfia assumed that was why she was brought in, but she'd never conducted a serious investigation before, so this would be her first attempt at brushing up her investigative skills.
"Your men…." Grayfia began, drawing Gorgith's eye. "…Their wounds weren't done by run-of-the-mill insurgents, the accuracy is too precise, and the sheer force inflicted upon their armor suggests a Devil with a knack for up close and personal combat. Do you have suspects?"
"We have actionable intel on the culprits behind this massacre. Two of whom you've come across inside the city." That surprised Grayfia immensely, considering the company she kept and the severe lack of time she spent outside of the Eternal Palace.
"You remember the Vastayan Viktor brought to the celebration two months ago?" She could never forget seeing Viktor's bodyguard expertly assassinate one of his rivals without most of the procession being the wiser. The only people who knew about the successful killing were Grayfia and the attending Satans, but they weren't inclined to intervene.
Watching the Patriarch of House Mammon discover his degenerate son's listing form was far too amusing.
"I believe her name was Ahri, if I recall," Grayfia replied, earning a sharp nod from Gorgith as he handed her a still image of their suspected Vastayan.
"She's our primary suspect because she entered 'The Pit' under supposed orders from Viktor, and not hours later, one of its prisoners suspiciously went missing from the Isolation Cubes."
"Who was the prisoner?"
"A nasty piece of work called Violet." A second photograph was handed to Grayfia; this time, it was a mug shot of a sapphire-haired woman with a harrowing glare. "She was a part of Vander's crew before the purge, and she's been killing Inquisitors for the Firelights for much longer. We captured her in a raid, but Viktor had a standing order to keep her isolated until he returned from Nova Babylon…The trouble is no one's seen him since his departure."
Viktor going missing wasn't surprising.
The vexing moron operated on his own timetable, and he liked to disappear at inopportune moments. However, his bodyguard working inside the city without him was a severe cause for concern.
The Nebiros never allowed Ahri out of his sight because he considered her a possession in every way possible. It sickened Grayfia that she had a first-hand account of watching the Vastayan squirm in her seat at Viktor's wandering touch, but there was little she could do to intervene.
Viktor Nebiros was too critical to the war effort for the Satans to care about some Vastayan.
But Grayfia digressed.
"How likely is it that Viktor didn't send her on ahead?"
Gorgith snorted in disbelief at Grayfia's attempt at playing devil's advocate. "Is that a trick question, my lady?"
"If only it were." A resigned exhale exited her lungs. Grayfia would take no pleasure in hunting Ahri, but her transgressions could not go unpunished. "Anything else I should know?"
"Well…." Gorgith hesitated, his eyes shifting from the bloodied intersection and the Lucifuge. "….As you know, Hierophant Zorthrin was directed by Lord Inquisitor Barracus to search for a Firelight agent inside this Borough. His Acolytes were conducting a district purge, but an intervening party ambushed them. Hierophant Irzathas was stationed nearby and brought up his entire section to reinforce, but they were intercepted."
"Intercepted?" Grayfia questioned while glancing back at the decaying corpses behind them. "Are you telling me all those Inquisitors back there are from Zorthrin's section?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you."
"Then what happened to Irzathas?" At that moment, she and Gorgith turned the corner, and Grayfia couldn't prevent the widening of her eyes as her feet settled into the pools of flowing blood.
If the preceding image could be described as a bloodbath, the scene unfolding before she was far more horrifying.
Pure unadulterated carnage.
Nothing could adequately depict the butchered carcasses strewn across the street and the swinging corpses of Acolytes suspended from the streetlights. The Inquisitors in the preceding roadway were slain in a textbook military ambush, and their remains were still relatively discernible.
Irzathas' Inquisitors were damn near mincemeat. Most were torn apart into an unrecognizable mass of meat and bone. The brutality of it all reminded Grayfia of a pack of Chimeras preying on a Legionary patrol out in the frontier.
She would never forget the sight, but one image in particular would remain forever engrained into her consciousness for the rest of her life.
The Hierophants had their butchered bodies nailed to a wall, and their intestines hung precariously from severed abdomens. Infernal energy seeped into the blood-soaked streets, suffocating the nearby Scribes as they fought to keep their lunch from staining the blood-soaked grounds.
Scrawled into the wall were a set of words that Grayfia could recognize anywhere.
AD INFEROS PER ASPERA
Through adversity, into hell.
The Renegade creed proved that the traitors laying siege to Lucifaad had finally infiltrated the city.
"There's a Renegade Noble in our fair city." Gorgith resigned exhale only served to torpedo Grayfia's hopes of an easy day.
This situation was turning damn near-apocalyptic for the loyalists.
"Does anyone else know about this?" An information lockdown needed to be implemented. The entire city might unravel if the populace learned of this infiltration.
"Besides the responding Inquisitors and the scribes, no," Gorgith replied. "An information blackout is in effect, but it won't last. I'm almost certain these infiltrators have made it to the Underhive."
The potent amounts of infernal energy alone confirmed Grayfia's suspicions that a Renegade Noble had orchestrated this attack, and Gorgith likewise held those same fears.
Devil Nobles exhumed a charisma that beckoned the lower classes to follow them like moths to a flame. The sheer influence of the ruling class could not be underestimated, and the Satans used this strength to keep the Underhive relatively in line.
Heavy emotions like anger and fear could shield a lower-class Devil from this influence, but if the Underhive received a sympathetic ear from this Renegade Noble, it wouldn't take much to plant the seeds of rebellion.
The Underhive hosted far too many rogue elements that these infiltrators could take advantage of, and since Viktor reported that Vander was still alive and well, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Lucifaad was a powder keg ready to explode.
This entire city was now a ticking time bomb, and Grayfia would no doubt be called upon once more to serve her master.
"Is they anything else I need to know?" She had to report to Bashalum within the hour, and their chief tactician, Zereikel Asmodeus, needed to start drumming up a scheme to suppress the incoming revolt.
"Yes." A tertiary photo was pooled from Gorgith's vest, and he tentatively handed the still image to a curious Grayfia. "There is a fourth suspect under investigation by the Inquisitorious."
"Who is it?" Grayfia turned over the still image, and her heart fell as she stared into the familiar eyes of her beloved sister.
"Lord Inquisitor Barracus has declared Acolyte Caitlyn Lucifuge Excommunicate Traitoris, citing a confirmed eyewitness account placing …."
Grayifa barely heard the words falling from Gorgiths lips. Her focus was entirely centered on her sister's face.
Mother was going to be devastated.
l==l
"You left quite the mess back there."
Cyrus glanced at a grinning Ahri from the corner of his eye but offered no verbal response. He'd caught up with the caravan of refugees streaming into the Underhive shortly after leaving a finely worded warning for the Loyalists.
His entire objective inside Lucifaad was to cause chaos, and with the city's stability hanging on by a thread, even a whisper of a Renegade agent inside would be enough to start causing problems.
Did that mean Cyrus would come out into the open and introduce himself?
No.
He did his best work in the dark, and these Loyalists would genuinely know what it meant to fear the night when he was done.
"Have any problems getting here?" Cyrus gestured to the ramshackle houses moonlighting as a makeshift refugee camp. Vi led the caravan of purge survivors into its lodgings, and the Devils in charge of the facilities provided ample room where necessary.
"Of course not," Ahri retorted, crossing her arms with a pleased expression. "All eighty-five scared shitless civilians crammed into a camp with probably another few hundred irritated and freezing vagrants."
It was cramped and severely cluttered in some areas, but it was far better than being hunted by a section of Inquisitors any day of the week, so the survivors counted their blessings. Vi was off small talking with the brown-haired woman who had previously assisted Ahri at the makeshift CCP back in the Borough.
Apparently, she was the Firelight the Inquisitors were looking for, and Vi managed to throw her weight around to get the insurgent talking.
Her name was inconsequential to Cyrus.
She was a stepping stone in his plans, and he didn't have time to start making friends.
The Firelights and their principles may conflict with his overall mandate.
Insurgent groups were frequently organized around a particular individual or ideology. As a result, they were volatile entities that could be quickly subdued by assassinating their core leadership.
This Ekko that Vi kept prancing about seemed to be the central figurehead of this resistance group, but she neglected to divulge their purpose in the Underhive. If these insurgents turned out to be a mirror image of the Insurrectionists, he would ensure they never saw the light of day again.
Cyrus was an expert in shattering militant organizations, so this would be the first instance he wasn't actively purging them from the surface.
First time for everything.
"Where's the Lucifuge?" Cyrus examined the throngs of refugees going about their business until he picked out the cloaked Inquisitor standing a few feet behind Vi as she conversed with the Firelight. Crimson orbs briefly met Caitlyn's wandering gaze before she inevitably shrank away from his impervious sight.
Her opinion of Cyrus was still exceedingly poor, but he didn't do himself any favors with his less-than-approachable temperament. Both she and Vi noted Cyrus's blistering scowl and acted to draw his attention away from Caitlyn.
"You mean Caitlyn?" Ahri chipped in, drawing his attention away from Caitlyn as Vi threw an arm around her shoulder and led her towards a makeshift food stand where she could be distracted.
Vi exchanged a subtle glance with Ahri, sending her a sharp nod as she ducked underneath the food stand's tattered awnings.
Their actions did not go unnoticed, but Cyrus thought better of starting another argument with Ahri over the Lucifuge.
"I know what I said." He murmured, leaning against a flickering street lamp with his arms folded. "And I don't need you to correct me."
Ahri's brows narrowed at his dismissive posture, and she subtly conjured a privacy barrier for a conversation he clearly didn't want to entertain. Cyrus could have flexed his authority over Ahri to keep her docile, but he refused to use such 'drastic' means.
His loss.
"Look, I get you're still a little pissed about me contacting the sister of Grayfia Lucifuge after you told me we were coming to Lucifaad to take her down but come on!" Ahri exaggeratedly flared out her lithe arms. "Caitlyn is harmless."
"She killed twenty Inquisitors without batting an eye, and most of them were colleagues she worked alongside for years." His voice and argument mixed into a caustic burn that almost took the wind out of her sails. "Harmless is not a word I would use with Caitlyn in the same breath."
"Then what's the problem?" The Vastayan inquired, her eyes blinking with frustration. "Those fuckers aren't exactly outstanding citizens. I mean, for Satan's sake, I know the Inquistorious is made up of bootlicking psychopaths, and Caitlyn is the exception to the rule."
Cyrus was annoyed at her desire to stick up for Caitlyn, but Ahri's animated defense could not convince him of the Lucifuge's integrity. She rambled on like an infuriating parrot, praising the former Inquisitor and all her qualities that would make her a reliable partner for their plans.
Ahri didn't understand his reservations, which confused Cyrus, considering how long she spent under Viktor's thumb when he was just as aloof as Cyrus.
For a woman who had spent most of her life next to a man that was the beacon of paranoia, Ahri was utterly inexperienced. That or she was playing stupid in the blind hope that Cyrus didn't possess a similar disposition to Viktor.
She didn't have to worry about that because he did have an altruistic bone in his body.
It just wasn't for Devils.
"Well?" Ahri's frustration grew when she realized Cyrus was ignoring her ramblings. She incessantly tapped her foot on the mossy pavement to aggravate him towards capitulation.
It worked.
"My problem…." Cyrus relented after a frustrated breath exited his lungs. "…Is her sudden change of allegiance. Do I believe she has this 'heart of gold' you spoke of? Yes. But that doesn't mean I trust her to watch my back anytime soon."
"Then why string Caitlyn along?" Ahri remarked, folding her arms and balancing her weight on one leg. "Why not cut her loose now?"
Cyrus' Devil side relished in the view of Ahri's smooth thighs gliding through her purple coat's fur. He internally cringed at this lack of restraint even as the Vastayan took notice of this lingering stare.
On his mute requests, all manner of dialogue evaporated.
When Cyrus was momentarily distracted by lust, Ahri could feel the shame boiling inside him. The reasons for such internal turmoil remained unspoken, but she knew that House Kimaris' cardinal sins were wrath and lust, but only one was continuously satisfied.
She allowed him a few moments of respite from their heated argument, more out of respect rather than need. They both stared at the mass of refugees with blank expressions, and the only audible sound was Cyrus' heavy exhales.
"You ok?" Ahri once again pressed her master for answers, but her tone lacked previous contentions this time. Something that Cyrus was internally grateful for even if he didn't speak it into existence.
"Yes." A final exhale released any remaining spurts of desire, and the Spartan was back to his usual self.
Relatively speaking.
"You gonna answer my question?" Cyrus's head dipped in consideration before he inevitably capitulated to her request.
"I'm waiting for an old adage to be tested again."
"And that is?"
"Blood is thicker than water." Confusion momentarily graced Ahri's expression, her attention dancing from a smirking Vi teasing Caitlyn to a stone-faced Cyrus. His statement clicked like a lightbulb, and her eyes widened as the words repeated.
Blood is thicker than water.
What an absolute bastard.
"You're using her as bait." Ahri bit out with a heavy sigh. Not even Devils were inclined to use another's family against them, but that was more out of respect for military doctrine rather than fear of reprisal.
Nobles are described as a fraternity of like-minded entities, and their most surprising attribute is how they permit safe conduct to one another even in this bloody civil war. Nobles dying in combat was rare because devil society relied too much upon their influence to keep the wheels of civilization moving.
It is one of the reasons why the Renegades were stunned by Viktor's terror campaign against their Primus Legionnaires. Such conduct had been considered unethical to both societies in this turbulent age.
How hopelessly naïve.
"She just betrayed the Loyalist cause, and Bashalum will personally order Grayfia to hunt her down," Cyrus explained, his eyes again staring at Caitlyn's back before returning to meet Ahri's gaze. "The Loyalists cannot afford a Lucifuge falling in line with the rebellion. It would damage their credibility and only embolden the Renegade cause…."
She hadn't considered the political ramifications of Caitlyn openly defying her family's masters. House Lucifuge was one of Lucifaad's most prominent extra demon clans, and their name alone inspired terror and reverence throughout the city.
Ahri let out a disbelieving groan at the pure fact she had inadvertently handed Cyrus a match to spark the fire of rebellion in Lucifaad.
Cyrus took note of the sudden realization dawning upon the Vastayan with a wordless grunt. "…At this very moment, Caitlyn is a rogue agent, but when I'm done with her, she will represent a citywide insurrection in Lucifaad. I should thank you for handing me such an indispensable tool…."
Ahri's expression suddenly darkened at his declaration, and for the briefest moment, Cyrus's outline was replaced by an indifferent Viktor. It gnawed at her gut that her current master could be similar to the narcissistic fool who dominated most of her life but also be so distinctly different.
"Is that what everyone is to you, Cyrus?" Ahri said with subdued discontent. "A tool to be discarded when it's no longer useful?"
She was in for a surprise if she thought he would rethink his statement.
"Everyone is a means to an end." Cyrus's voice couldn't be more severe as his crimson orbs stared impassively into her amber gaze. "Even you."
The Kimaris turned on his heels and stalked away from the camp, seemingly done with this conversation.
Ahri watched the darkness practically greet him with open arms until he finally disappeared from sight.
"If I were anyone else." She murmured to herself. "I would have believed you."
Sometimes her master forgets just how deeply entwined they are. There can be no secrets between them because concealing such thoughts from one another is impossible.
And no matter how often Cyrus told himself that he didn't care.
His heart said otherwise.
Cyrus has genuinely turned out to be the most complicated Master Ahri would ever have.
And if she had it her way, he would be the last for the rest of her natural life.
"Where did he stalk off to?" The Vastayan turned to find Vi occupying the space Cyrus had vacated not moments earlier with a contemplative stare.
"Not sure," Ahri halfheartedly replied, stretching out her arms and working out the kinks that had formed in her lower back. "Knowing him, he's probably brooding about some master plan or other menacing thoughts."
Vi hummed in agreement, but her pensive stare remained fixed upon the shadows along the camp's perimeter. This darkness wasn't a natural phenomenon in the Underhive, and the curators running this humble refugee camp were initially alarmed, but Vi managed to calm their worries.
To conceal the encampment from any Inquisitorious retribution, Cyrus had erected a barrier of darkness as an added security measure.
"Is he going to kill Caitlyn?" Vi's sudden inquiry momentarily caught Ahri off guard, allowing her to ask a follow-up question. "She's scared shitless right now, and I already told her he wasn't, but she's worried nonetheless."
Vi wouldn't mention that Caitlyn was a hairs breath away from testing the barrier's constitution out of fear for her own life.
"Well, she's in luck," Ahri motioned Vi to follow her. "Caitlyn has suddenly become a high priority for reasons I can't tell you just yet."
"Can't or won't?" Vi remarked as they slid in between a dense crowd of refugees.
"Why can't it be both?"
"Very funny." Vi didn't need to see Ahri's face to know a shit-eating grin was plastered all over it. "What about me?"
"What about you?" The Vastayan's derisive snort earned a blank stare from the Brawler. "The only reason we pulled you out of 'The Pit" was because you can get us an audience with Ekko, and once that's done, your debt is settled. You can leave or tag along for all Cyrus cares."
"Really?" Vi couldn't believe that he would just cut her loose that easily.
"No, he's gonna fuck you senseless and leave you bow-legged for life." Ahri's sarcastic tone earned her a middle finger from Vi. "Yes, you moron. He'll cut you loose if you want out, and the position of chief head smasher will remain occupied by you alone until stated otherwise."
"That easy?"
"Yes." Ahri slipped between an arguing pair of Devils bitching about something she couldn't care for and ducked into the food stand where Caitlyn patiently awaited them, albeit with a strained expression. "How are you doing, cupcake?"
"That depends…." Caitlyn scooted down a seat, allowing her companions to take a moment off their feet. She hesitantly poked at her bowl of soup before gesturing to it with a slight grin. "…Is this my last meal?"
"What if I told you yes." The Sharpshooter glanced between her warm soup and the grinning Brawler. Her comforting voice conveyed a silent message that Cyrus would not kill her.
"I'd probably start crying." That earned hearty laughter from Vi and Ahri alike, the latter throwing her arms around both women and bringing them close enough for their cheeks to touch hers.
"Ok, enough with the melodrama. I get enough of that from Cyrus as it is, and I don't need it from either of you." Ahri gestured for a round of drinks, and her enthusiasm momentarily dampened when her fingers wrapped around a cup of water.
Right, they were in the Underhive.
She really needed to find a proper drink as soon as possible, but for now, her job was to assuage her favorite Lucifuge's worries.
What Cyrus had in store for her would be an adventure of a lifetime.
Caitlyn would need all the luck in heaven and hell to survive.
While they celebrated, Cyrus stalked the perimeter of the refugee camp. His presence practically kept any Underhive thugs from trying their hand at robbing the settlement blind.
He opted to limit himself to perimeter duty until Vi guided them to the Firelight stronghold. Until then, Cyrus could do little more than be a silent guardian of over a thousand devils crammed into a small encampment.
At least he was afforded a calm silence, and it was a welcome reprieve to finally be left alone with his toiling thoughts.
For now.