Authors Notes: Good grief, it's another chapter! But I do hope you all enjoy this one!

I do not own anything from Platinum Games, Fromsoft or Capcom. All characters and settings belong to those companies (Except Damien, of course.)

Side Mission 1: The Underworld

Voices echoed through Balder's addled mind, breaking through the fog with lances of pain. He groaned, feeling stone beneath his prone body. His hands did not weakly grasp at the ground or attempt to pull himself along to a less exposed position; neither them or his arms could move. He had been tossed into his current predicament like a bag of unwanted scraps.

In their eyes, he would have been.

Once they had taken them, his family had been separated while they awaited their trial. He did not know how the Umbra treated his wife and child, but his brethren had not taken his 'betrayal' so lightly. A sham of a court had attempted to interrogate him, trying to pull a confession that he had been bewitched and forced into a relationship with the love of his life.

He had told them as such and refused the opening they had given him so he could still maintain his role among the Lumen Sages. Balder would not live a lie and would certainly not rebuke the one he loved.

The reaction to his declaration was far more severe than he had expected. The torture began on the morrow, with his brothers ripping apart his body in an attempt to make him confess. They had drugged him using both concoctions and magic to draw the truth they only could see into his vision, to mentally remove his beliefs and indoctrinate their own. Once the three days of pure agony were over, they had asked him again.

He resisted all of it and repeated his stance. The truth would not be warped in a cruel emulation of reality.

The frustration of his former brothers was palpable and very evident. They then tortured him again, this time out of rage and anger that Balder wouldn't give them what they wanted. The intensity was enough that he couldn't keep his body conscious any longer and he fell into darkness, praying for his child and wife to be safe.

That was the last time he was awake. It seemed that during his mental absence the trial had begun and was now fully underway, with no way to defend himself or his wife and child.

A fraud. A complete sham. A fabrication of justice.

"The crime you have been charged with is of the most severe category. You forged a bond with one of the light and broke our sacred commandments, Rosa Florecer!"

That was the voice of the Umbran Elder. Balder tried to lift himself up to see what was going on in the room around him, but his arms could not move. His muscles were atrophied far beyond what could be considered unhealthy.

Or he was being restrained with spells. The numbness in his limbs felt entirely unnatural.

"You have fraternized with one of our Order and produced a repugnant heir; a Child of Light and Dark. The most despised creation that will ever possibly exist." That was the voice of his leader, the Lumen Father. "Do you have any words you could possibly say in your defence?"

Leave her alone. They left their clans for a reason and it was to be left alone with their lives. If Cereza was never trained as a Witch or Sage then she could never bring the prophecy about. Especially if she was never granted the clarity of an Eye.

"I have no words to say."

Rosa's voice cut through the air with defiance, filling his inert form with hope.

"Then why!? Why would you dare fornicate with one of… them!? The one person you simply could not! Explain yourself now, traitor!"

His abilities were very slowly returning and he could sense Rosa from behind his current position. His wife was in pain, but her spirit was strong and her will overflowing. He imagined her standing there, her head held high and not backing down from anything or anyone. Cereza would be timidly standing behind her mother, but Balder knew she would be protected forever more.

"I love my husband. You cannot and will not change that."

Splutters from the Umbran Elder were drowned by the forceful voice of the Lumen Father. "You do not love my son, coronzon, you bewitched him with your wiles. The same goes with that abomination you call a da-"

"My child is the most precious being in my life and I will not let you slander her with these provocations!"

"You have sired into this world a foul chimerae of the most wicked sort! These are not slanderous words or anything of what you foolishly believe; they are the truth!" The Elder bellowed, their words reverberating through the room in a cruel, mocking echo. "And you believe that this unholy union is a mere act of love!?"

"I need not explain more, for you will not and continue to refuse to listen."

"You, Florecer, have brought upon one half of the calamity. This is an affront punishable by only one possible outcome," the words of the Father hung in the air for a moment. "That is death to those involved and those… created from it."

"What!?"

Balder tried to force himself to move. Over and over, again and again he ordered his muscles to take action, yet nothing wanted to obey. The spell was just too strong.

"My child is innocent!"

"Your child is the most guilty of them all. Bring it in."

Cereza wasn't with her!?

No.

No.

"Stop hurting me- Mummy? Daddy?"

No.

A prayer tried to form on his lips, but he could not move them and he nauseously realised that those he would pray for were the ones who wanted her deceased.

"Cereza!"

"Mummy!"

No!

"At least be glad that we have offered a small mercy in letting you see your abomination one more time. Yvinne! Bring forth the executioner!"

No, please, he had to do something please don't let her die please don't no no no no no no

"No! I'm-"

A gunshot rang out and Cereza screamed. Balder could not.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted nothing more than to run and kill those who had just slain his wife in cold blood for absolutely no reason other than-

He vaguely heard a body falling to the ground, flesh smacking against the stone in an unnatural symphony. His body screamed at him to do anything to stop his daughter's screams, to help her and console her, but nothing happened.

"Shut it up. It needs to die anyway."

A second gunshot echoed after the first, and his daughter's cries abruptly-

Balder summoned his glaive, roaring with anger as the throes of sleep fell from him. His other hand clutched at the necklace around his neck, holding onto the tube with a deathgrip. He sat up in his cot and kept that position while breathing heavily.

Was it a memory? Or was it an omen of what he missed? His memory of the trial that announced his family's fate was hazy at best. If they were to kill them, then at this forgery it would have occurred.

His trial that had occurred long after their separation was over in almost seconds. His former brothers gave him no chance to defend himself and he was exiled with no contact with the Umbra or his former clan. For twelve years he had wondered about the fate of his wife and child, but no answers had ever been given until a week ago.

He felt his fury begin to dissipate and the glaive followed soon after. Both were gone within seconds and the cold grip of anguish claimed his heart. Exhaling slowly, he covered his face and began to weep. The Sage had spent far too long mourning, but the Prophet had given him both the time and the space for recovery.

If only he was stronger.

If only he-

"Balder."

Steadying himself emotionally, he uncovered his eyes to see the Prophet staring at him with a mixture of concern and apprehension. Swinging his legs over the small stone cot he was given, the Sage gave his attention to his mysterious benefactor.

"Come. It's finally time."

"Of what remains of the formerly mighty Umbra, only two Witches now carry the name and title."

Two women appeared in the Prophet's Orb of Memory. One was a platinum blonde who dressed entirely in red; she reminded him of the Umbran Elder for some unknown reason. The other was an ebony brunette who also seemed familiar to him. Balder could not quite place his finger on why.

"Why are there only two Umbra alive?" He asked the obvious question, keeping the discomfort out of his tone and posture. Gesturing to the two, he folded his arms and gave a pointed stare at the blue apparition.

"Once your Lumen brothers were slaughtered, the mortals learned of this affront to nature and the wicked plan that the Umbra possessed. They joined forces with Paradiso and annihilated the Witches in a short campaign now known as the Witch Hunts."

The humans allied with Paradiso? Only those with knowledge of the Light Arts could summon the Laguna-

"A Lumen Sage brokered this alliance?" He could not stop hope from slipping in. There was a survivor? If his memory served him right, some Sages had travelled to Long-Abandoned Thule in an attempt to recover anything from the former joint research facility. Unless their mission was cut short, they would have escaped the genocide that befell his brothers.

The apparition shook its head slowly, despondently averting their gaze. "This Lumen Sage perished later at the hands of these two Witches. Before you continue to get your hopes up, all Sages died once the Umbra learned of their agents' locations."

Balder returned to the two Witches with a withering eye. The one in red seemed to have an air of despair expelling from her, whereas the black-clad woman had a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.

That harlot reminded him of Rosa. His fist curling into a tight ball was the only visible reaction he was willing to offer.

"Tell me about them." He demanded, forcing himself to be gentle. Letting his frustration out on the Prophet would be completely unfair and uncalled for.

"The Witch in red is known throughout history with a cacophony of different titles, each one more extravagant than the former. Her name, however, is Jeanne De'Arc, the firstborn and only daughter of Marion. You may know of her, given her status in the clan."

His previous assumption was correct; Balder was looking at the Umbran Elder's offspring. This Jeanne did share several features; the strikingly grey eyes, sharp cheekbones and the lithe figure associated with the Umbra. Judging from her posture, the girl was presumably nowhere like her mother in regards to her confident and arrogant authority she constantly expelled.

"She grew up sheltered from the horrors of what her clan accomplished, believing still in the old tales. When the truth was revealed to her with the Witch Hunts, Jeanne refused to see reason and disavowed it. She ran and hid in her own fantasy, deluding that she was some sort of protector of the mortals. Her attempts at this lifestyle have ended with millions dead at her own hand. To this day she still tries to convince herself that she is not to blame, when in reality she is."

Delusion was a powerful tool in rejecting reality; Balder had spent four days under it trying to believe that his wife and child were not slaughtered by some madwomen and that his clan had not befallen the same fate. It was a cruel irony to him that one of the surviving Witches still was living in a hallucination.

He almost pitied her. A silent promise passed through his lips to make her realise the truth before she died at his hand.

"What of this one? The woman with the onyx hair?" Balder gestured to the other Witch.

The Prophet stared off into the distance, a sad smile on their features. "You won't like what I am about to tell you."

"I do not care. Any information on the two Witches will be necessary in planning any sort of strike against them."

He should have known that the Prophet was right. Balder reflected when his emotions had calmed down that he also should have been a bit more specific in his line of questioning.

"Her name is Bayonetta. She was the one to kill Cereza Onythyll five hundred years ago."

A portal opened in front of the pair, orange and black flames licking at the serene blue. Balder folded his arms and waited for instructions.

"I can only maintain this portal for a few more minutes, otherwise our enemies will take notice of us." The Prophet held their posture in a wide pose, blue magicks flowing from their fingertips and into the edges of the portal. "Now, a week ago the two Umbra were attacked by their own Demons. It seems that even Inferno is now tiring of their antics."

"How do you know this?" He didn't look away from the visage of Inferno. Rosa had described the realm of darkness as the deepest, darkest nightmare that you had tucked away long ago. Did it remind him of those?

No.

The Prophet's words irked him, but he could not figure out why. Balder dismissed the notion and returned his attention back to the spirit.

"It was foreseen long ago by me. I simply watched it while you were recovering from the revelations I shared with you." He could see them turning to him in the corner of his vision. "One of the Witches perished."

Balder did not offer a visible reaction.

"Jeanne saved Bayonetta from an unfortunate demise and died from an attack by an Infernal."

Balder felt a strange relief flowing through him. His posture relaxed slightly and his lips upturned slightly. A small twinge spiked through him, of anger that he would not be able to bring judgement to those who had wronged him.

"You will get your chance for revenge; I promised that. Now, I have located Jeanne's soul in Inferno; if you want to draw out your family's killer, you need to give her a reason to come out."

"Her soul will perish either way." Even he knew the ultimate fate of the Umbra.

"Indeed. But our enemies are moving to rescue her soul and restore it to her body." The apparition stated. "We need to put her soul into a position where the process is hastened."

There was something off about the wording of the Prophet's explanation. His own knowledge of the end of an Umbra's life was limited, but even he knew that when a Witch died her body became crystallised and the soul was devoured by their Patron. It was a rarity to hear that a body survived, let alone their soul stranded in Inferno.

"How do you propose we do that?"

The Prophet chuckled. "It is very simple; I have a contact in Inferno that I've made a few deals with. If you can get there and claim the soul before an Infernal does, you can deliver it to them."

"I suppose this cuts down the time they have to reclaim it?" He politely asked for the obvious clarification.

"Correct. The less time they have, the more panicked they will become. Panic drives a human to make rash decisions, and then they will throw all caution to the wind in order to achieve their goals." They answered with a nod. "They will come directly to us, and will get your chance to attain what is rightfully yours."

The Prophet had shared the knowledge that upon this mountain was the only functioning portal to Inferno, aptly named the Gates of Hell. Their plan was to entice the Witch and Loki to the Gates when they attempted to rescue their ally, which Balder found very illogical. Why would this Loki want to rescue someone he considered a tool? He understood the Witch's motivation, but that was the extent of his knowledge.

The apparition's face grew serious and interrupted his musing with a tutter. "Do you understand the task placed at your feet? Of what must be done?"

"I do."

"Then be on your way. I will know when your task is finished, and I will return you to Purgatorio."

Balder walked forward and let the heat of Inferno take him. The portal hissed shut behind him, leaving him inside hell. Literally.

He let himself smirk at that. The irony was palpable.

Inferno was strange.

Balder reflected instantly that the descriptor was not exactly apt. Inferno was a different realm to Paradiso or even Chaos; whereas the former reflected the latter, the Underworld resembled the hellscapes the human literature constantly described it as. Dark rocks contrasted against the red sky, shrouding the immediate area in waves of pain and hatred.

Sometimes literally.

Those Demons were what he expected. But it seemed that in five hundred years the realm had changed as well. Nothing crawled around him. The normally omni-present Demons were scant and few between; any stragglers or those curious enough to give him a closer look were dispatched with ease.

His mask and hood were drawn over his head, protecting the last vestiges of his body from the elements. Balder assumed that the Prophet would have opened the portal close to their target, but with the ever changing landscape before him the soul could be anywhere by now.

The Prophet gestured to the small, stone hovel upon the mountain with a sneer. "Here is my humble abode. Please, be welcome to use it; I have no need for it."

Balder let his gaze wander around the barren and rocky environment. His gaze furled into a frown, raising an eyebrow at the apparition. "Where is your body? If this is your home, I was expecting to see something more physical of you."

A laugh rumbled through the air, echoing off and into every direction. "Balder, my body is currently participating in tasks to make sure our little revenge scheme actually is doable. What you are seeing here," he gestured to himself. "Is one of many apparitions I have at my disposal. Not to say that you aren't as important; it's just that I'm multitasking a lot of tasks at the current moment."

"Understandable." He returned his attention to the building, relaxing his features slightly. "It seems you do not live in splendour, for a being as powerful as you are."

"Splendour can wait. This place suits my needs, and is unassuming to prying eyes."

Balder stepped through the entrance, taking note of what he saw. A bench sat upon one wall and a lower one was across from it; the latter, he assumed, was the bed. It was completely bare otherwise. An upgrade from the cell, but the same of his home during his exile.

It would do.

"What is this task you have asked of me? Why do we not pursue this 'Loki' with haste?" He spoke while folding his arms.

"Because we need to draw him out. The more his scheme unravels, the greater chance of him making a mistake. Only then can we strike." The Prophet floated through the wall and landed next to him. "My task is for you to permanently remove one of many annoying pieces before it has a chance to be."

The Sage narrowed his eyes and waited for an explanation.

"For three months I have been undermining our foes, lulling them into a false state of security. I have taken away their powers and their foes, so when they both inevitably return they will be forced into a scenario I want." The Prophet smiled. "And when our target inevitably perishes, that is when you come in. I will need you to make a trip to Inferno so the trap can truly be laid."

"Inferno?"

"Hmm, yes. I've been blocking pathways in and out of that place, except for one that I needed to use as a distraction." The tone was very condescending with this explanation; Balder did not appreciate that. "I'll open them briefly to drop you in, then to pick you up once it is complete."

"How will you know where I am? Blocking the pathways means you have no way of contacting me once I am inside." He raised the other eyebrow.

"I have foreseen how you will end up, and where she will fall. I might be off by about five minutes, but you can walk."

An amused snort escaped him. If the last twelve years had proved anything, Balder was the master of walking.

The thorns of the forest seemed to retract and curl away as Balder marched through.

It was unsettling, to say the least. Being a Lumen Sage had given him enough experience with Daemonlogy to know that they would be fighting each other to claim his soul and power; the conspicuous absence of anything he knew or was familiar with was very glaring as a sore spot.

Balder wasn't above saying it unsettled him.

Coming to a ridge in the forest, he peered over the cliffside and found a vast clearing beneath him. A slight frown creased his forehead when he took in the lone figure in the centre.

The pulse of his target lay ahead, past this sentinel. Either this was part of the landscape, some abandoned statue of an old warlord long gone or someone knew he was coming and placed a roadblock on the map.

Considering how easy it had been to traverse Inferno, the latter seemed the most likely.

Resigning himself to whatever fate lay ahead, Balder jumped down and landed on the ground hard, erupting a cloud of rest dust from the impact. Standing upright, he let his senses trail out before him, exploring every nook and cranny of the immediate area.

Nothing.

The frown increased in intensity. Taking a few steps forward, he summoned his glaive with a flash of white light and held it by his side. Not defensively or aggressively, as he did not want to appear as a threat, but the weight of the weapon was a reassurance in this foreign situation. And it would give him the appearance of a capable warrior that wasn't to be taken easily.

The figure was a suit of armour. Sickly greenish grey scales covered it from head to toe with each joint protected by a sharpened ridge. A red cape flowed around the shoulders, reaching down to the ground and giving the figure a larger, almost looming presence. Red horns protruded from the mask, framing the permanently furious gaze of the plate. A massive slab of a sword rested underneath its interlocked fingers.

And yet, nothing expelled from it. Balder walked closer to the figure and gave it another look over. Why was it here? It was unlike any Demon he had ever seen before, or heard of. There were whispers of Infernal Knights who served under the previous ruler, Argosax, but Mundus had never been that interested in conquest. At least to the extent of his predecessor.

Was Mundus even still the ruler of Inferno? If that was not the case, then this figure could have-

Blue fire erupted from the sword and Balder jumped back, now holding the glaive defensively. Lines traced themselves from the blade outwards, lighting up the armour with the same hue as the flames. The eyes of the mask glowed a brilliant shade of orange and a long groan filled the silence in the air.

Balder's eyes narrowed. That was definitely not normal in any sense of the word.

One finger twitched.

A presence now played at his senses, almost taunting him with its intangibility. This was no coincidence; something was watching him and this was their way of testing his abilities.

The armour shuddered, then moved to face him. One hand lifted up with jerky, uncoordinated motions and palmed the grip of the sword, ripping it from the ground and by its side. The other hand fell limply in the air.

"What are you?" He asked, moving to hold the glaive as a quarterstaff. The armoured figure did not respond verbally. Instead, it lifted its free arm and gestured to him with a 'come here' motion.

It was time to see if twelve years was enough to waste his skills and powers. Balder found himself anticipating this clash far more than he should be.

Adjusting the glaive onto one hand, he tossed it at the armour. The foe knocked it to the side with a swing of the giant blade, but he summoned it back to his side with a flick of the wrist. Letting magic flow through him, he dilated time and sprinted to the left of the armour, readying another spell when he arrived. The flow resumed as normal and several fireballs rose from his open palm. They struck the figure with loud, hollow clangs and drove it back a few feet.

Not wasting any moment, Balder tossed the glaive once more. It pierced the shoulder and blasted cleanly through. Slowing time once again, he reappeared behind the figure and caught the weapon, smoothly separating the blade in two and making a strike at the legs.

The foe turned around and caught him before he could. The slab whistled through the air in an overhead slam, and Balder knew that he could not hope to deflect or block the strike. Slipping around it with a twist, he answered with a downwards slice of his own.

His glaive bounced off the bracer with a clang.

The foe punched him with its free hand and he stumbled backwards. The sword whipped out twice, but each was dodged with desperate lunges. Balder refixed his glaive together and parried one particularly heavy backhand. The force was enough to rip his weapon from his hands and send it clattering off the rocky ground.

His strategy instantly changed; Balder summoned a blue orb and pushed it forward with a thrust of his arms. It struck the armour in the chest and it jolted to a halt. Clicking his fingers towards the sky, he dragged his hand down and called out one word.

"LEVANAEL!"

Lightning coursed down and shattered the armour in one blow. Molten shards flew in all directions and the sword fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. Recalling his glaive back to his hand, Balder observed the cooling shards with curiosity.

If his assumptions were correct, the armour was hollow with no body to utilise it. Whatever had been possessing it was far away and nowhere near his location. Balder let his gaze wander around, then snapped it back to the top of the cliff behind him.

A giant birdlike Demon stared down at him. It gave off a chortle, then flapped its wings and disappeared out of sight behind its most recent perch.

His gaze did not leave the cliffside for a full minute.

"Should I expect any resistance inside Inferno itself?" Balder watched as the Apparition floated around with a hand on their chin.

"Balder, you are walking into Inferno." It dryly answered.

"Duly noted, Prophet, but considering they are still the allies of the Umbra I expect there to be more zealotry in their defense of their property." He too answered with a bite in his tone. He was not a youngling; he did not appreciate the condescension.

"Zealotry? The Infernals are still busy fighting among themselves over who is their true leader. Even now they fight, despite one being chosen for them. One has even grown a Blood Tree in order to attain power."

It seemed that nothing changed in the five hundred years. "What is happening? You've mentioned this Qliphoth before."

The Prophet laughed. A long, haunting laugh that felt completely unnatural in his ears. "Nothing to worry about, Balder. You do not need to think about what is going on in some parts of the world."

"But I will warn you that there are those who wish to see their former selves restored to glory," the Prophet grew serious. "Loki is one of these beings. And besides, he will make the pathway forward difficult if he catches onto us."

The Demon could have been a servant of Loki and recognising that was enough to put him on edge. Now the Enemy was aware of his movements and he really did not have time to lose; every second wasted was one he could never get back, regardless of his capimao abilities.

Swiftly, he turned and jumped forward. His magic glowed brightly and he took the form of the wolf-within, the transformation occurring instantaneously. His paws pressed against the ground and he shot off like a bullet.

Aside from summoning his Angelic patrons, most of his powers seemingly were restored. It was almost like they had never left.

The spirit he was searching for was rapidly approaching. An estimation took him at maybe two minutes, possibly a lot less if the way forward was empty of foes.

Somehow he knew the words would come back to haunt him. But as soon as the thoughts stopped echoing through his mind, the forest opened up to a barren plain and revealed a grand melee. Balder slid to a halt atop a small outcrop, his eyes narrowing and taking it all in.

Demons of all types fought against each other; some he recognised as Hatred and Hideous, the two Infernals that were normally the foes himself and his brethren fought as Overseer of Light. Others were unknown, buglike monsters that savagely tore at their opponents throats like beasts. The rest disappeared into the melee, indistinguishable to the rest of the mass of bodies.

He remembered the Prophet telling him that there would be a 'contest' of sorts for the soul of the Umbra. Balder expected to see major Demons partaking in this, not minor orderlies. A theory came to him that the larger players were simply testing the waters, but if they wanted a powerful Umbran soul they would simply get it themselves. The Madama court was arrogant, but not incompetent.

Perhaps this was Loki's doing. Remove all potential factors that may take the soul before he managed to get into a position to rescue it; that was something he personally would have done. But again, it did not make sense. None of this did.

Disregarding the melee with a huff, Balder encircled it in an attempt to find an opening. He could feel the pull of the soul from within and he was half expecting it to be devoured at a moment's notice.

Demon after Demon was tossed out of the melee, their bodies falling and landing in unmoving sculptures on the landscape. The size of the pack was slowly dwindling, and Balder retransformed back into his normal self. He would have to play clean up duty.

Fire danced around him, swirling into a vortex above his aloft left palm. He stared at it for a split second, then shook his head and dissipated the spell. Demons resisted fire; an Infernus technique would serve only to anger the Infernals and not destroy. Frigus would serve him better upon this occasion.

He need not have bothered.

The ground began to tremble, throwing the Sage off balance. He recovered with a backflip, balancing himself in a crouch with one hand firmly planted on the ground. Glancing up to the melee, he found the Demons sprinting away in fear. The purple apparition of the Umbra Witch was all that remained, lying uselessly on the ground.

Balder kept his eyes on his surroundings as he slowly approached the spirit; Infernals did not run in fear so easily. He supposed a Madama could be on her way to retrieve her prize, but to his knowledge none of the Madama's were seismic users. The few magic-wielders of the court tended to specialise in Soul-Arts and the strongest of those was the Mistress of Time. None of them used elementals.

That could have changed in the five hundred years he was missing from history. But either way, something big was coming. His glaive flashed into his hand and he planted it in the stone, giving the floor a glare.

"Come on out, you wicked Demon!" Balder found himself snarling. "Do not give me another wasted second; if you seek this prize, then challenge me for this spectre if you dare!"

The ground, much to his dismay, was not the part of the landscape that answered. The sky unleashed with a scream of pure agony and a smouldering figure fell. It landed across from him in a heap, cracking the upper layers of the stone. The Demon rolled itself over using its torn, leathery wings and stood upon its haunches, seemingly barely able to stand. Its skin was black, charred by the dwindling fire from within that made it glow. Two broken horns protruded from its head, which had no eyes and no nose he could see.

Blind and anosmic. Balder assumed it either used magic or its hearing was vastly superior than the norm.

"Just what foul creature are you?" He asked and the Demon's head snapped to him.

"Do not get between the Princes and their prey."

The ground quaked as another one burst up beside the first. This one was identical except for two key changes; its extremities were gone, leaving behind a stubby pair of legs and arms. This one had its eyes and nose on its face, and the red orbs were trained on him. Balder didn't like assuming, but it seemed that these 'Princes' complemented each other. He would wager the second one could not hear or feel.

"Unfortunately, Infernals, this Witch is my target. Either leave with your pride shattered but your lives intact, or I will annihilate you." He popped the glaive from the ground and pointed it at the Demon from Below. "And just in case you cannot hear me, Demon, this is the message I send to you."

It roared in response. The Demon in Pain held one hand out and the former calmed down. "A Sage challenges us…"

"We have not hunted a Sage in thousands of years. Back when Father was still the Primordius of Calamity, we used to pick out the strongest of your clan and duel them. We always won."

"And now our legacy points us towards the last Lumen Sage."

The Demon from Below squinted and peered scrutinizingly at him, leaning forward on its stubs to do so. "Did the last Lumen Sage not fall with the Arch Eve's defeat of the Father?"

"It seems our intelligence was mistaken. We will rectify that."

"You both seem so sure of yourselves," Balder glared, letting the glaive twirl until it was held at his side. "Yet you both do not see the obvious fact; I am no Sage."

His free hand curled into a ball, then splayed out with a thrust. A golden orb encased the soul of the Witch and his attention was now fully on the twin Demons. "My status was revoked when I was exiled from the clan for daring to love. It has not been reinstated, regardless of the genocide of my former brothers. What stands before you is a man who will stand at nothing to bring vengeance for his dead wife and child; that starts with obtaining the soul you so desperately desire!"

The Demon in Pain roared, a harsh sound that grated against his ears, whilst the Demon from Below lurched forward with both 'arms' raised. Balder side-stepped the accompanying slam and answered with an overhead slice at the left stub. His glaive bounced off the Demons hide and he quickly twirled away to rethink his strategy.

The other Demon did not let him. Its maw opened and a red mist expelled from it, covering and enveloping the immediate area around his person. Balder jumped to regain his vantage, but a strike from the Demon from Below knocked him back to the ground. A loud scream of agony rippled through the mist, and then it exploded. The Sage was tossed around like a small ball from the forces, but landed back on the ground in a crouch.

The Demon in Pain lunged forward again, but this time Balder was prepared. Holding his hand out, he raised it and spoke another word of power.

"SIZICIEL!"

Small meteorites rose from the ground and launched themselves into the incoming Demon. The projectiles slammed into the beast and halted its advance, flaying away skin and flesh and shattering bones. The other arrived with a leap, fire filling its palms. Balder dilated time and sprinted around the slowed Demon, only restoring it when he was far enough that the resulting explosion did not affect him. The Demon in Pain twisted around to follow him, scraping its claws on the ground and swiping with a backhand.

Balder merely parried the strike with an almost lazy twirl, spinning the glaive with a flick of his wrist. The Infernal stumbled and he took the opening by jumping onto its flayed wings. His glaive struck into the joints connected the limbs to the body, slicing through the flesh with ease. Kicking the disembodied wings away, he raised his hand to the skies and called upon the lightning once more.

Before he could utter a word, the Demon from Below appeared in his vision and engulfed his body with a tackle. It roared in his face, releasing him and raising its body to strike with the limbs once more.

'My Liege.'

The power of Paradiso filled him and he could see a faint golden glow emanating from his hand when he raised it. A familiar word filled his mind and he invoked it with one, blasting breath.

"ZIRACAH!"

A golden sigil appeared high in the sky, opening up to reveal Fortitudo diving at the pair of Demons. It landed onto the stone and shook the ground with a small earthquake. This force was enough to throw the Demon off balance and it stumbled away from the prone Sage, rejoining its sipling with a screech. The Auditio answered with a roar from both draconic heads and struck before either Demon had a chance to prepare themselves. It took one in each of their mouths; the size difference giving the impression that the colossal Angel was making the Infernals look like children's toys. Their jaws snapped shut and the two were devoured without fanfare.

"Hmm, you are not who we expected." Fortitudo's main head seemed to crease with a frown. "The last we heard of you, you were dead."

"Do not reveal my future to me, Auditio." Balder sat up and regarded the Angel with apprehension. "My goal is vengeance for my family, not to learn my fate."

The Auditio's frown increased. "What do you mean by that? Do you even know of your family's fate?"

"The Prophet told me that the Umbra Witches killed them. I'm merely enacting vengeance upon those who escaped the Witch Hunts." He climbed onto his feet and folded his arms. "I will call upon your aid when it is necessary, along with your brethren."

"We see." Fortitudo was acting suspicious. Normally the Angel would be the first of the Auditio to believe in judgement upon those who wronged its summoner, but it seemed wary of his words. Almost as if it did not believe them.

"What is the matter?" Balder vocalised the thoughts instantly. "Do you not believe this is the proper way to attain vengeance?"

"What is your plan, Right Eye? To take this spirit and use it as leverage? That is most dishonourable."

"When dealing with the deceitful and lying Witches, you have to be. Fighting those without honour will lead to a most certain death." Balder turned his gaze to the golden sphere and dismissed the shield with a wave of his hand. "Do you not agree?"

"We see your argument, we just do not believe it is necessary. Witches are prideful folk; a challenge to them would be met with the same zealotry." It rumbled, taking flight with a few flaps of its wings. "It would do you well to keep that in mind."

A portal to Paradiso opened up behind the Angel. It stopped before entering, turning back to him. "It pleases us to see you in much more… favourable spirits, Balder Onythyll. We will give word to the rest of the spheres that you have returned."

Balder acknowledged it with a nod and watched it fly back into the Portal. It snapped shut with a soporific hiss, leaving only the ambient howling wind as the only sounds. Tentatively, he walked over to the Umbra Witch and stared down at the spirit with hatred.

Jeanne De'Arc. The woman was completely identical to the vision the Prophet had shown him, despite the fact she was in the nude and was transparent purple in her hue.

This was the woman who had been sheltered her entire life and fed lies of the most heinous nature in order to keep her blind from the truths of her clan. And now, Balder was going to-

Why would they hide the truths of the clan to their heiress?

Another surge of doubt passed through him and he shook his head to dismiss it. The woman was still complicit in the murder of his wife and child; there would be no hesitations. They did not show Rosa or Cereza any mercy and neither should he.

Ahn ooa lap od ooa. An eye for an eye.

"Is someone there?"

Balder froze up at the sound of the disembodied voice. Slowly, the woman began to stir with wracking coughs and stiff movements.

"I can't hear or see well… Please, is there someone there? I need to know."

Her voice was full of so much pain and terror. His heart began to feel sympathy for her, but he hardened it again. She showed no sympathy to his family. This was the ultimate fate of the Umbra and she was simply living the experience.

"I can sense someone there… It's faint… But I know you aren't a Demon. You… Damien? Is that you?"

What? Who? Damien was a male name, so it could not be a pseudonym for her Umbran sister.

The Witch's hand reached out in his direction weakly, barely held up by her lack of strength. "Have you come to rescue me?"

'Balder.'

The Prophet seemed to be starting to lose his patience. The Sage stood up straighter and shook his head again. What is it?

'Have you found her yet?'

I have.

They let out a humoured huff. 'Then what is the delay? Your next destination is losing patience, just as I am.'

Then tell me where to go. I will get this wretch there.

'Very well. You are currently in the sixth circle of Inferno. Your next destination is on the seventh. You'll know when you find her. Or more likely, she will find you.'

The Prophet receded from his mind, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Balder was starting to feel a little doubtful at this behaviour from the being; surely this would not matter? Time was not necessarily of the essence; not many Infernals had taken interest in the soul of the Witch and it was now under his personal protection. If it was really necessary, he could wait lifetimes to deliver her.

The spirit's arm had fallen and she was now sprawled on the ground, breathing heavily. Did the girl not know that she did not need to breathe?

"Please, if that is you Damien… I can feel something Lumen in the air, and that must be you. It can't be anyone else. Just tell me that it is you!"

The woman was now staring directly at him. The pupil-less eyes, inhumanely blank, bore into his soul and guilt spiked in him.

"I'm sorry for causing everyone so much trouble. I should have been stronger and seen the betrayal coming. I'm sorry, please! Touch me or something! I need to know you are real!"

He had to stop it now before it was too late. Balder walked over and roughly grabbed the woman by the chin and reached up to his mask with his other hand. "I am not this Damien you speak of. Gaze upon the face of those who you have wronged in every aspect of life!"

He slipped off the facepiece and the Witch did not react with confusion, like he expected. She recognised him and her eyes widened with fear.

He knew of her; but he did not know of her. Balder barely knew the Umbran Elder through meetings and convenings between the two clans; her daughter was just another person that was someone he was vaguely aware of. If the intelligence the Prophet had provided him was correct, then Jeanne would not have known of him during her days in the clan.

This was not something he expected.

Her breathing began to speed up to a very erratic and frantic pattern. Each one was deep and laboured, as if the spirit was truly struggling to draw each one. Her limbs began to push at him, weakly trying to push him away. Balder came to a realization that she was terrified of him and he found himself questioning why; why would the daughter of someone he barely knew react like this?

"No…" She moaned, her voice quivering with fear and panic. "No, you're dead! You- You- You-"

Jeanne was choking on her own words. Balder released her and watched with turmoil as the Witch bundled herself into a ball, rocking and moaning disputes about his existence.

He had done this. The Witch had known him from some point of history and his appearance had been enough to send her into a traumatic paralysis.

"What did I do?" He asked, hiding his uncertainty with anger. When the Witch did not answer, he grabbed her chin again and screamed the question in her face. "What did I do, Umbra Witch!?"

"I can't ever escape you." She covered her ears, then her eyes in an attempt that he recognised as a childish way of making him disappear. "You're not real! Cereza will save me! Damien will save me! We killed you once, we can kill you-"

"You killed Cereza." He coldly stopped her, rage beginning to fill his veins. "My daughter died because of your clan's idiocy and arrogance! And now you dare invoke her name? Do you think to mock me!? You will suffer for every person your clan has taken, Jeanne, and you are nothing but the sheltered fool that will finally learn the truths of your pathetic life. Once I have delivered you to my final destination here, I will kill this Bayonetta. If this Damien decides to interfere, then he too will suffer the same fate."

He reached down with a gloved hand and Jeanne flinched away. Grunting with annoyance, he thrust out and grabbed her wrist. The Witch screamed and violently jerked her body away, breaking his grip.

"I will not repeat myself, Jeanne." He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her until she was level with his face. She weakly kicked at him, but they lacked any force. "What did I do to you?"

The girl was crying. He did not care.

"Tell me!"

Her eyes screwed shut and she began to ramble. Words repeated in an endless stream that unsettled him to his very core.

"You're not real, the nightmare is over. You're not real, the nightmare is over. You're not real, the nightmare is over…"

Lowering his arm, he let the Witch fall to the floor. Uncertainty filled him and Balder began to drag the woman towards the seventh circle of Inferno.

Jealousy.

The stench of envy permeated every inch of the seventh circle. It lashed at him, tempting him with the promises of more power, but he did not listen to it. The realm of Inferno was known to ensnare visitors with false pledges, just like Paradiso, and he knew his purpose in this place; he would not be swayed from it.

Balder could sense that something was lurking in the shadows, watching him with seething emotions, but he could not find them. Each glance he sent to the thorny surroundings granted him no clarity.

Jeanne continued her mad ramblings each step of the trek. No matter what the Sage did, the Witch continued to cry in her hysterical state. Truth to be told he was tempted to toss her off the side of a cliff and let whatever Infernal came across her have her way with her, but the promises of the Prophet echoed through the constant noise and he stayed his hand for now.

In the distance strange growths began to crawl up into the sky, twisting and turning in bulbous grips. They seemed to congeal into a spherical object that was partially hidden in the angry red clouds.

Vines, Balder realised. One of the branches grew on the path next to him and he took a short moment to examine it. Red thorns prickled out from a fleshy pink bark that squirmed and rippled like a restrained criminal.

It seemed that hate flowed through Inferno no matter what.

The further in he walked, the more the realisation finally started to sink in; his destination had to be this floral structure. Slowing down to a halt, Balder released the Umbra Witch and folded his arms.

Is this the place?

The weight of the Prophet filled him, almost tranquil with their presence. 'I believe so, Balder. The palace of the Whisperer of Insanity is what lays ahead; you will not need to gain entry.'

Why is that?

The Prophet did not answer; for he did not need to.

"What's this? A lowly human, inside of Inferno? Completely and utterly alone?"

The female Demon's voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. Balder did not feel the familiar prickle of telepathy within the speech, but he also could not sense the origins either. The Sage returned his attention to the vine beside him and let his vision trail up and down it.

"Are you the ruler of this place?"

The Demon hissed and smaller vines sprouted off the main branch, spiraling into sharpened points. They all took aim at him, encircling and ensnaring him without making any physical contact. "Just who are you to make demands like that? I am the Queen to be of Inferno, not some common Infernal! Treat me with the proper respect or meet your imminent demise!"

"I do not care for your petty squabbles with the rest of Inferno," he gestured with a flat palm to the slowly curling spirit to his side. "I offer you a…"

A gift? Balder was not trying to win the favor of any Demon today, and certainly not ever in his lifetime.

A token? As far as he knew the deal was with the Prophet and the Demon, not him. He was merely playing the messenger, not anyone or anything important.

His eyes inadvertently wandered down to Jeanne and he paused. In her current position, the Witch reminded him so much of-

Cereza was dead. This Witch had killed her with both her actions and inactions. She deserved no mercy from him.

"I offer you a morsel to aid you in your rise to power. I have brought you the soul of an Umbra Witch, Infernal, which I am led to believe is a rarity in the Underworld these days." Balder motioned to the figure with both hands now. "Take her, for I have no use for it."

"You…"She seemed a little shaken. "Why offer it to me? Is this one of the Prophet's games!?"

So the two were connected. Balder noted the wording, but paid no mind to it. Demons were known for their wariness and skepticism with deals. After all, you could always trust your deceitful liars to lie.

"The Prophet has promised me revenge on those who have wronged me; all I had to do was follow their directive. Just what did they promise you?"

"They promised me the same; vengeance and power over those who have denied me my rightful place in Inferno!"She raged and Balder turned to the direction they had walked from. He could faintly see the outline of something scuttling onto the vine, scampering out of sight on the concealed part before he had a chance to visualize what he was looking at. "They all laughed at me! They all thought I was just a sham, a mockery of an Infernal! Who will laugh now when I become their Queen, the Primordius of Calamity and a true member of the trinity! Not them! They were weak! I will be strong!"

Balder patiently waited for the tirade to finish, resigning himself to the ranting and raving from the Demon.

"No matter what I tried, they always compared me to her! She's the superior Madama? She's nothing more than a common whore who stole the light of my life! She's nothing more than a bitch who should be made to beg at my heel for mercy! No more shall she-"

"This is all well and good," Balder let some of his annoyance slip into his tone. "But you cannot become stronger without consuming that which will give you strength. If you have ambitions and now the means to gain them, Infernal, then I will take my leave."

"Very well, human. I will let you live."She calmed down considerably, but the emotions were very much still present. A massive clawed hand of pink and red slowly snuck out and grabbed Jeanne, pulling her away and out of sight. "In exchange for this soul you have bargained yourself mercy."

The sheer arrogance of the Infernal made him want to stay and tear her apart just to prove he could. But he had better tasks to be achieving and enough blood had been shed today, especially if that blood was part of the Prophet's plan.

I have done it.

'And so you have. Come, let us bring you back.'

The Prophet was waiting for him once he stepped through the portal.

"It has come to my attention that our enemies are moving against us." The spirit gestured towards a nearby cliff. Balder marched to it and let his gaze wander out. Below him stood a broken and dilapidated stone bridge that had fallen apart long ago, formerly connecting Fimbulventr to a city that lay on the edge of the island.

"What have you seen?" He did not bother removing his mask or hood. If he was to begin engaging the surviving Witch, then he would be glad for its protection.

"She has arrived, along with the trickster."

Balder felt his fist tighten involuntarily.

"Please, Balder…" The Prophet's honeyed words were music to his ears. "Give them a warm welcome."

My First Journal!

Enemy Data:

Neo Angelo

An armoured knight who my grandfather fought during an excursion to Inferno. He has never told me why he was there, just that he was. Anyway, this knight was an empty suit that was possessed by a MYSTERIOUS FORCE and apparently was the basic design for the Nelo Angelo that Vergil once was. According to him Mundus had several suits of these for dissidents; he stole a few to make the Proto Angelo's that scourged the Qliphoth. Well, this empty suit was no match for Grandfather and it died without too many problems. So either it was weak as shit or Grandfather is strong AF. But it does lead to one thing; Demons are fucking weird, aren't they?

According to Aunty J's research this particular suit was meant to contain Dante if Mundus ever managed to trap him. Dante himself thinks that it could've contained any hybrid, so I guess Damien could have been trapped in it as well? Don't think his wing would have allowed it. But then again, a magic wing is a magic wing!

Theme: Ultra Violet (Encounter One) - Devil May Cry (2001)

Twin Demons/Demon Princes

A pair of Demons who are said to be the offspring of Argosax, but no one knows for certain. After all, Argosax disappeared pretty much right after they were toppled from the Primordius of Inferno and only really reappeared again when Arius found a shard and attempted to cultivate out a new Primordius from it. I don't know how to put this in a way that doesn't sound super fucking weird, but I have no idea if they managed to 'get busy' or even if Demons procreate the normal way. But either way, these two were a formidable duo that Grandfather fought once in a trip to Inferno. They got the best of him briefly, but I personally think he was still getting to grips with his powers at the time. Legend does say the pair can combine into to the true form of the Demon Prince of Hell, but considering they are now fucking dead I don't think we'll see them ever again.

Do Demons fuck? Now that's on my mind because of this and-

Wait.

How else would Dante and Vergil even exist? I'm such an idiot! If Aunty J ever saw this I'd be writing essays on Demonology for weeks!

Theme: Demon Princes (Phase 1) - Dark Souls 3 (2016)

Jukebox

No updates… :(

Character Data

No updates… :(

POST NOTES:

Annnnd that's a wrap. Balder gets to shine in this chapter, leading in directly to the inevitable clash between him and Bayonetta.

Now, the goal for this chapter was to portray Balder in a specific way; I do hope you all caught on and my seedings weren't for nothing. I do not like how gullible Mr Onythyll was in actual canon so I'm trying to take a lot of steps to rectify it.

As always, leave a comment for any thoughts, good or bad, that you all may have on this. Until next time!

(PS The Journal format will be making its return for Blood Moon)