Chapter VII: Put on the Armor of Light…..
"In the sinister realm of eternal night, where shadows dance and malevolence whispers, we must immerse ourselves, unflinching and resolute. Within the veiled embrace of such macabre depths, we unearth the untamed inferno that ravages the darkness and births the intoxicating illumination of salvation. Embrace the abyss without dread, for within its fathomless maw, we metamorphose into relentless harbingers of its doom, casting our somber presence to guide those longing to escape its tendrils of torment."
—Rumored words of "Shadow", the enigmatic leader of the "Shadow Garden". Imperial Archives. M32
Note to the Imperial Inquisitors: The information about the "Shadow Garden" is in the section of "Sigilite". Vermillion Authorization is required…
=I=
Viscount Grease was once a principled man.
No…..Even now, he still has principles.
Even when he was young, he was a man who believed in the light.
A man full of ideals.
When he was young, his master told him that his dream was for naught.
A dream to sunder the darkness.
In fact, he fought the darkness. He fought them with words. He fought them with blades. He fought them with every bit of his will.
A warrior of the light.
But despite everything, the darkness was too strong.
In the end, his ideals were for nothing. His will was destroyed. He lost the fight.
For the terror of the dark is mighty.
He dived too deep into the darkness, and the darkness consumed him.
A man who stared at the abyss.
He failed. And now he is just another one of their pawns.
Such a downfall is downright dishonorable.
But nevertheless, despite everything he did and despite the evil that he committed, he kept going.
'For the sake of my daughter.' The viscount muttered under his breath as he walked to the familiar underground cell of the facility.
A will of steel. Once for light, now for darkness.
His footsteps echoed across the underground as he walked into the familiar jail cell.
In the dimly lit cell, a woman sat in silence, her fragile form adorned in a nightgown of somber elegance. Shackles encircled her wrists and ankles, merciless restraints that held her captive in a world of shadows and confinement.
The Viscount started to speak.
"Claire Kagenou, how are you feeling?"
The bound woman, the scion of Kagenou, simply glared but did not answer.
"I have quite a few things I'd like to ask you about." The Viscount stoically stated.
Claire answered, but not the things that he'd wanted to hear.
"You look familiar….. I've seen you around the capital. Viscount Grease, was it?" The girl stated, with a bit of a sneer curling in her lips.
The blonde Viscount did not respond. He only stared at her bound form.
"You were in the Bushin Festival Tournament. Princess Iris gave you a good one, if I remember correctly. Viscount Grease, the first round flunker." Claire stated with a sneering stare and mocking tone.
Viscount Grease did not speak. He did not move. Whereas any other man would have hit her for her insolence, the Viscount didn't do anything.
A disposition of a stoic hero.
"It seems like you can answer my questions properly now since you are clearly awake." The viscount stated with a calm tone.
"..Tch! Ask what you need to ask so that this will be over with. I want to get home." The Kagenou scion simply stated.
A woman who isn't easily cowered.
The viscount nodded. Whether in understanding or simply a noble mannerism, it was not clear.
"Has it gotten harder to use and handle magic? Have dark, rotting spots started appearing on your body? Anything like that?" The viscount asked like a curious academic scholar.
The symptoms of the curse. Magical overload.
"Hah? Did you bring me here to play doctor? Anyway…Something like that happened just last year. Well, at least until my brother made me do some "stretching" while touching my back." Claire stated with a smile on her face. She clearly loved the memory of her brother.
"Hmm…I see. So, you're saying you had symptoms. That means you must be compatible." Concluded with a monotone voice.
"…Compatible?" Claire narrowed her eyes as she questioned the man in front of her.
"Nothing you need to know about. But it seems that I need to look into your brother and see if—" The blonde Viscount did not manage to finish his sentence.
After all, a chain almost impacted his face.
Killing intent.
The battle-forged instincts of the Viscount saved him from the impact. He was shocked by the event and immediately looked back at the bondaged girl.
The girl wasn't bondaged anymore. Her arms were ruined due to the amount of force that she applied to destroy the shackle.
Large magical output. Destructive.
The girl's visage has a look of madness. In fact, when one looks at her, they may think that she is a psychotic woman or an unhinged person.
Protectiveness and obsession.
With glint of madness and obsession in her eyes, she roared, "IF YOU LAY A HAND ON MY BROTHER…..I'LL MAKE SURE YOU REGRET IT!"
The viscount was rather disoriented. He looked at her arms.
'She ripped through the chains with her own flesh!?' He thought with shock.
A sibling will protect their own blood.
"IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO HIM… I'LL KILL YOUR FAMILY, YOUR FRIENDS, AND EVERYONE ELSE YOU—" Claire was cut off immediately.
Before she could even finish her threat, a fist was already in her stomach.
A blow necessary for unconsciousness.
The moment the Viscount heard those words, his eyes saw red. He didn't stop himself from hurting the girl in front of him and rendering her unconscious.
"….You are not the only one who has someone to protect!" He roared rather harshly at the unconscious form of the girl.
Even someone like him has someone to protect.
The viscount calmed himself down and touched the photo locket hidden beneath his noble clothing.
He opened it, and an image of a young girl appeared.
'….Don't worry, my daughter. Papa will come soon.' He thought with a smile on his face.
Then his melancholy was over in an instant as warning words echoed out of the corridor.
"Lord Grease! We have a problem! Intruders in the main hall!" A mercenary that he hired reported to him.
"What!?" The viscount was shocked.
'This is an underground facility hidden beneath the southern outskirts of Midgar! How did this happen?' The viscount asked in surprise.
Then the Viscount rushed to the main hall.
But what he saw were only trails of bodies along the way.
Corpses. Punctured. Decapitated. Amputated.
Clearly, the enemy favors a stab and slash way of killing. But when he looked at the wounds, the cut was too clean. He has seen blade wounds before, but the wounds on the mercenary aren't like that at all.
"What the hell happened here!?" The viscount lost his composure.
Then a moment after that, a gust of wind, sharp and large, passed beside him.
Immense arcane control and magical output.
'Too fast! I can't react' The viscount thought, sweat flowing down his back.
"Who goes there!?" The Viscount asked.
Then three people appeared. Two elves and one beastkin. The golden-haired elf, most likely the leader of the group, spoke.
"We are the Shadow Garden. It's our mission to eliminate the Cult of Diabolos." The golden-haired elf simply stated.
At the mention of the name of the cult, the viscount was shocked.
"How did you know that name?" He demanded.
"We know everything….the Curse of Diabolos…The Heroes descendants…The truth about the possessed." The blonde elf stated.
"…What? Only the top brass should know those things!" The viscount, once again, was shocked.
"It doesn't matter. We hunt in the shadows, we fight in the shadows." The elf stated once more, readying her stance.
"….Is that so huh?" The viscount returned to his calm disposition. He closed his eyes.
He recalled the words that he once said to his mentor during his youth.
"Master, I promise you! I will defeat the darkness that plagues this world! So that no child has to cry anymore!"
Then he opened his eyes. He stopped remembering anymore. The promise was already broken. But what he can do is protect what he still has.
And so, under the moonlight, the Viscount readied his stance.
Traditional Bushin Technique.
And then he attacked the golden-haired elf in front of him.
The slime and the sword clashed.
The clash between the man proficient in offensive swordsmanship and the elf skilled in countering and attacking with bladed slime was a spectacle to behold.
With each swing of his mighty blade, the Viscount unleashed a flurry of aggressive strikes, aiming to overpower his opponent with sheer force and skill.
Controlled aggression. Specialization of Bushin method.
However, the blonde elf danced gracefully through the battlefield, her movements fluid and precise. As the man lunged forward with a powerful thrust, she deftly sidestepped, evading his attack with ease.
With a swift motion, she retaliated, her bladed slime morphing into a sharp, serrated edge that sliced through the air.
Immense psi-arcane control. Complete manipulation of the conductor,
Her technique focused on precise timing and calculated counters. Whenever the viscount's blade came crashing down, she would parry it skillfully, using the malleable nature of her bladed slime to absorb the impact. With each successful parry, her slime retaliated, slashing back at the man with a venomous ferocity.
But still, the elf was surprised. She didn't expect that the man in front of her was this good.
"Though I lost to Princess Iris, I'm still a skilled practitioner of Bushin Swordsmanship." The Viscount, despite being disadvantaged, stated.
Despite his aggression and skill, the viscount found himself caught off guard by the elf's unorthodox fighting style. Her bladed slime acted as both a defensive shield and a deadly weapon, adapting and reforming to her every command. It flowed effortlessly, striking with lightning speed and surprising versatility.
Skilled in offense and defense.
The Viscount tried his best. But his best wasn't enough.
In a moment of hesitation, the man left himself vulnerable, and the elf seized the opportunity.
Her bladed slime coiled around his sword arm, constricting it tightly. With a swift motion, she unleashed a final devastating strike, her bladed slime transforming into a razor-sharp blade that pierced through his defenses and tore through his chest.
As the viscount fell to the ground, defeated and gasping for breath, the elf stood victorious.
Her unique mastery of the bladed slime had proven to be a formidable weapon, combining defense and offense in perfect harmony. It was a reminder that skill, strategy, and adaptability could triumph even against the most proficient and aggressive opponents.
"We won't kill you yet. We still have many questions to ask." the elf in front of him stated as the viscount continued to gasp.
'Is this the end?' The Viscount asked in his mind.
But then, he remembered the smile of a beautiful child.
A loved one.
He steeled his eyes.
"NO THIS IS NOT YET THE END!"
He pressed his hand underneath his ruined tunic and pulled something.
Pills.
Tears of Diabolos. Potent magical essence. Ruinous light.
Then, he swallowed the pills.
And he screamed.
"GAHHHHHHHH!"
His body convulsed, muscles rippling and expanding, as a transformative energy enveloped him. Bones cracked and shifted, reshaping his form into something both fearsome and yet still humanoid. His once human features became distorted, and his skin took on a hardened, bestial texture. His eyes, once filled with determination, now burned with an intense crimson glow, reflecting the unleashed fury within.
Ruinous corruption. Power at a price. Replacing the Solar with Dark essence.
No longer bound by the limitations of his mortal form, the man let out a primal roar, his voice a terrifying blend of rage and raw power. He stood tall, towering over his opponent with an intimidating presence. Every movement he made exuded a primal grace, as if he had tapped into an ancient and ferocious energy.
"Magical Overload? But there is something different about that light…" The blue-haired elf said outloud.
The three women in front of him gasped in shock. But still, they are ready.
The turned Viscount made a fist and then brought it down to the ground.
Unnatural strength forged by the ruinous light.
Then, spider-web cracks appeared and a hole was created.
The Viscount proceeded down the hole.
The blue-haired elf beside the blonde elf almost goes after him, but her blonde comrade stops her.
"No need for that….Shadow-sama knows all. He will confront the Viscount himself."
The beastkin and the blue-haired elf widened their eyes. But soon, they are in agreement.
"Indeed….I trust in Shadow-sama." The blue-haired elf simply stated.
=I=
Beneath the main hall of the facility, footsteps echoed.
A dark-haired child wearing a dyed jet-black trench coat walked, his movements filled with assurance.
In his right hand, a long sword is apparent.
Ancient instrument for killing.
With fierce eyes, the young man looked up. His eyes seem to pierce the heavens itself. At once, he stopped his movements, his expression never changing.
And then he stated outloud, "I'm lost…"
Indeed, the dark-haired child, Cid Kagenou, kept wandering around, and he ended up in this dark underground cavern.
'But still, this bandit camp is really pristine and organized..' Cid thought with an impressed face.
"But still, to think that Beta actually goes along with my roleplaying…..I almost felt bad for her. It must be hard dealing with someone like me.." For a moment, the expression on Cid's face seemed sad, but he returned to his enthusiastic expression.
"Nevermind! The least that I can do for them is to respect their roleplaying and play my part to the fullest!" Cid explained with a smile blossoming in his face.
He would have spoken more, but then spider-web cracks appeared at the ceiling of the corridor, where he is currently wondering.
"What?" Cid was stupefied as he watched the ceiling break down.
Then, amidst the plumes of smoke created by the force of the impact on the ceiling, someone's voice echoed out.
"You! Who are you!?" The voice from the plumes of debris and smoke echoed out.
Then, as the smoke cleared, a man could be seen. His appearance seemed to be more beastly than the once-skilled swordsman that he was. His crimson red eyes and protruded muscles emphasize that point.
'Wow! This is the scariest bandit that I have encountered since I was born in this world.' Cid thought.
But still, he wanted to say his favorite lines. That's why he stated, "My name is no concern of yours. Only the taste of my blade."
'Nice! Truly a line worthy of being an Eminence in Shadow!' Cid praised himself in his head.
"You….You're the one who led the assault here!" The blonde beast-like man answered.
Cid did not respond, he only took his familiar stance.
A stance so ordinary that it will disorient anyone.
But the beast-like man, Viscount Grease, wasn't as rational as before. His mind is clouded by the power of the Ruinous Light.
Power and Madness intertwined.
And so, the Viscount charged. With his sword in hand, he made a large swing towards the unassuming boy who wears a trench coat. Corruptive lightning crackled in his sword.
Corruption from the Empyrean starting to manifest.
But still, such power wasn't enough. The young man merely parried the strike with a simple yet graceful sidestep, diminishing the force of impact while disorienting the attacker.
'Hmmm….It seems like this bandit has a bit more skill compared to the ones I usually fight." Cid thought with a calm expression.
And so, the battle continued.
Their movements were a blur of raw power and precision, each strike carrying the weight of their respective abilities.
With lightning speed, the young man unleashed a barrage of swift and calculated attacks, his orthodox swordstyle flowing seamlessly from one technique to another. His strikes were precise and lethal, aimed with the intent to overpower and outmaneuver his opponent.
The beast-like man, emanating corruptive powers, responded with primal aggression. His massive strength propelled him forward, his blows fueled by dark energy. But the young man deftly evaded each strike, his agility and keen reflexes allowing him to dance around his adversary's advances.
Agility and absolute skill.
The clash of their weapons echoed through the air as metal met metal. The young man's sword gleamed with a resolute determination, deflecting and parrying the beast-like man's powerful strikes with finesse. He utilized his opponent's strength against him, redirecting it with expert precision.
Slash. Counter. Block. Sidestep. Strike.
As the battle intensified, the young man remained steadfast and focused. His movements were a symphony of grace and skill, his blade cutting through the air with lethal accuracy. With each strike, he chipped away at the beast-like man's defenses, exploiting the smallest openings with ruthless efficiency.
The beast-like man, driven by his corruptive powers, attempted to overpower his opponent with brute force. But the young man's calculated swordplay allowed him to outmaneuver and counter each attack. He anticipated his adversary's moves, exploiting his moments of vulnerability.
Analysis and hypothesis. Scientific art of battle.
In a swift and decisive moment, the young man seized the opportunity to deliver a devastating blow. His blade, honed by years of training and discipline, sliced through the air with lethal precision. It found its mark, leaving a deep wound on the beast-like man's chest.
The corruptive powers flickered and waned as the beast-like man staggered, his strength faltering. The young man pressed forward, unyielding in his assault. With a slash, his blade left a deep wound on the chest of the Viscount.
"Gah!" The viscount said in surprise as his wound started to bleed.
Cid simply looked back at the Viscount.
Then the Viscount, mad at the current situation with his body beaten and mind addled with the ruinous light, spoke out, "Do you really think that you can beat them!? The darkness of this world runs far deeper than you think, boy!"
Cid steadied himself. He looked at the eyes of the Viscount with a smile and said these words, "Then, I shall dive deeper into the darkness."
To stare into the abyss and not flinch.
The viscount stared in shock. In his eyes, melancholy can be seen.
'Nice! I always wanted to say that line.' Cid stated in his mind rather joyfully, not knowing the repercussions of what he just did.
"Is that so….Perhaps you have a chance of defeating them…" The viscount whispered.
"But even then….I have something to protect!" He roared with all of his heart. Trying to stand up to muster his strength.
"I have to win!" He roared with such determination.
'Oi oi oi, don't tell me he will power up?' Cid asked in his head, with incredulity present in his face.
"I NEED POWER!" The Viscount bestially roared like the beasts in the myths.
Then, the air crackled with crimson lightning.
The empyrean leaked into the materium.
The eyes of the Viscount were white. And then he started to talk.
"Yes, I need power! I NEED POWER TO SAVE HER! I NEED POWER SO THAT I CAN PROTECT! I WILL TAKE YOUR DEAL!" The viscount roared outloud, as if he were talking to someone.
'What the hell? Is his mind starting to break?" Cid stated. Then he walked closer to the bandit, intending to finish him.
The face of the man started to morph.
A communion of blood and strength.
Crimson lightning crackled in the body of the Viscount.
Ruinous light transforming into something.
Then, these words came out of his mouth, "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GO—"
But he was cut off.
His head fell off as the sword of the dark-haired young man struck his neck.
Decapitation.
The crackling of the crimson lightning stopped. The metamorphosis didn't continue. The reality was back to normal.
"Hu! You're a tough bandit, alright!" Cid declared as he dusted off his trench coat.
"And the clean-up is finished! Though I worry for my little bro…I hope he is safe and does not take this roleplay that seriously." Cid spoke with a rather concerning voice.
"Hah! It's little bro! He's the protagonist! I'm sure he will manage." Cid said rather enthusiastically as he walked off back to the entrance.
"Wait, where is it again?" Cid, once again, was dumbfounded.
=I=
Half a day before the storming of the Southern Underground Facility.
Kagenou Underground Library.
Lord Kagenou, at the moment, is absolutely livid and dying of worry.
After all, any father would be worried when their daughter just disappeared in the middle of the night without a trace.
In fact, the morning after he woke up and found out that his daughter was lost, he frantically ran around the manor to search every nook and cranny, thinking that she was just pulling a prank.
But then reality sank in. She was indeed kidnapped. But he does not know who. After that, he and his wife got into another argument. She said that he was careless.
Indeed, he was careless. After all, her daughter's room is literally just next to his. He can't be sleeping that heavily, right?
After the argument, the Lord of Kagenou household coordinated with the local dark knights to find his daughter. Yet, as of the moment, she has not yet been found.
He paced back and forth, his heart heavy with worry and his mind consumed by fear. Every passing second felt like an eternity as he anxiously awaited any news of his beloved daughter. His eyes darted to the empty spaces in the room, her absence haunting him like a ghost.
His hands trembled with a mix of anguish and determination, clenching and unclenching as he grappled with the overwhelming emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. Each breath he took felt shallow and strained, as if the air itself held a suffocating weight.
Images of his daughter's radiant smile, her laughter that echoed through their home, flashed through his mind, intensifying his desperation to find her. He could still feel the warmth of her tiny hand in his, the unconditional love in her eyes as she looked up to him.
His thoughts spiraled into a whirlwind of scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. Fear gnawed at his core, threatening to shatter his resolve. The smell of the incense and holy relics in the room does not dampen his mood even a little bit.
"Mentor, calm down." The giant, well, he's certainly bigger than the Lord of the House now, calmly stated.
"How can I be calm, Athanasius!? It's my daughter! The Great Enemy got my daughter!" Lord Kagenou screamed outloud.
The young man, Athanasius, nodded in sympathy and understanding. His eyes are still on the table, looking at the giant map of the outskirts of Midgar.
Analytical eyes. Superhuman computation and analysis are working.
"We will find a way, mentor. The Divine Tradition dwells within the heart of the Young Lady. I'm sure she is doing everything she can to come back." Athanasius stated.
"…She has to. She has to comeback…." Lord Kagenou stated, tired and weary from worrying. But the blaze of fire is still present in his eyes.
Then, Athanasius reviewed the letter reports that the local legionary sunbeams delivered to him every week.
Each letter report was segregated into boxes. Each box has the name of the village.
Legionary strongholds.
Names such as Sunspear, Valdoro, Maremonte, and Ashborn can be seen.
Athanasius is currently reviewing the letter reports from the Legionary stronghold at the North of the Kagenou Estate.
According to the letter reports from Ashborn, the legionaries there reported some strange sightings. Strange men in strange clothes whispered and cackled laughter in the darkness, and armed men appeared outside the stronghold gates.
Preparation for a Siege.
There is a possibility that there are Cultist bases and facilities there.
But then, one letter confirmed his suspicions.
He read the letter from a Sunbeam from Ashborn stronghold:
"First Brother,
I pen this letter with a sense of urgency and a heavy heart, for I bear witness to unsettling events that have unfolded in our realm. It is my duty to report the presence of sinister sightings and the emergence of armed men in our lands, possibly mercenaries with ill intent.
As a disciplined Legionary, I have taken it upon myself to closely observe these unsettling occurrences. Each day brings with it an increasing unease, as whispers of a looming threat permeate the air like an ominous fog.
The men I have encountered are not ordinary wanderers or travelers seeking respite. Their demeanor, clad in dark armor and armed with weapons forged with an aura of malevolence, suggests a sinister purpose. Their arrival is shrouded in mystery, their intentions veiled in shadows.
I have diligently tracked their movements, studying their patterns and gathering whatever information I can. They move with calculated precision, as if guided by a dark hand that orchestrates their every step. Their presence alone is enough to instill fear and apprehension among the innocent populace."
As Athanasius finished reading the letter, he marked two specific spots in the giant map in the table.
Lord Kagenou, plagued with worry and anxiety, asked his student, "Did you find anything?"
"According to the letters of our Legionary Sunbeams from one of our strongholds in the north, there is a possibility that a facility is present in that lands and that the Young Lady is taken there."
"But why would they take her? What's the motive?" Lord Kagenou asked frantically.
"…Mentor, didn't you say that the Kagenou household is one of the heroic households that served the Vesperan Empire during the Golden Age?" Athanasius asked his mentor.
"…Indeed. Our Kagenou swordstyle was practically invented by Gareth the "Shadowblade". He was granted nobility by the Lord Emperor Igantris of the Vesperan Empire at that time. His skills and heroic abilities were demonstrated in the Great War of the Blood, almost thousands of years ago, against the Vampire Lords. That war was so destructive that dozens of Kingdoms fell due to absolute extermination or sheer destruction. In fact, the War of the Blood is the reason why the enlightened Vesperan Empire fragmented into many kingdoms, many of which are currently present right now." Lord Kagenou remembered his studies.
An age of heroes and darkness.
Then his eyes widened as he realized something.
Athanasius seemed to realize it too and nodded. "Indeed, it seems your daughter inherited the gifts of Gareth. And as we all know, the Great Enemy wanted heroic descendants…"
"Indeed! If that is so, then we must—" Lord Kagenou was in a hurry to leave, but Athanasius stopped him.
"Wait! While I am almost certain that there is a nest of the Great Enemy present in the north, there is still the South." He pointed at the other circled area on the giant map.
"This area here, as I found out with the help of some friends, seems to contain an underground facility." He stated.
Athanasius looked at his father and then stated, "I will go to the north along with the Legionaries of the four strongholds near it. I will enact the Ironheart Policy. Meanwhile, your mentor will go to the South along with your employed soldiers and Dark Knights. In this way, we can discover and save your daughter in the shortest amount of time."
His mentor seems to hesitate, but he is convinced. He did not even need to ask where his pupil got the information regarding the Southern facility. He trusted him like a father would trust his son.
But eventually, Lord Kagenou nodded.
"Alright…If I don't find my lovely daughter there, I will immediately rush to your location." The Lord stated to Athanasius.
"Don't worry, mentor. You have an entire Legion at your command. After all, those young boys out there know you by now. You are practically the only noble they like in these lands." Athanasius stated with a jovial and reassuring smile.
"Then…may the Divine Light guide your way." Lord Kagenou blessed his pupil.
"Hail the Light!" Athanasius responded with a solar salute.
Lord Kagenou nodded at his pupil as he walked out of the Underground Library to gather the Dark Knights in his employ.
Then Athanasius sat down. He starts to write a letter in his hands for the sunbeam of the northern strongholds.
Ironheart Policy
'Soul brother, I wish the success of your mission in the south.' Athanasius thought as he began to write his letter to his Legion.
=I=
And so, Athanasius began the Ironheart Policy.