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Chapter 3- "The stand and sacrifice."

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Exactly how the Divus knew of their exact position was unclear, but there was no doubt that they did. The army they had amassed, the resurrected Legions of the Nemesis, was skirting around the side cliffs of the Abyss and driving themselves in a forced march towards the distant walls and towers of the desecrated Human Citadel. They were a nearly perfectly seamless, unbroken, tide of black armour. As the army moved, it came in row upon row of perfectly formed disciplined ranks and columns. Not one soldier put a foot out of place and the ground shook so much with their footsteps, that rocks were loosed from the cliff to fall into the depths of the whirlpool below.

Flashes of lightning from the storm circling the Ark and its protective beam of light highlighted their armour as they marched, no one flash casting the same shadow or gleam over the sheer acres of armoured figures. The way they marched too was so methodical, an almost mechanical automated set of movements, as if they were merely imitating the movements of something foreign to them. The movements of each soldier was so perfectly synchronized with each other that it seemed they were all mere copies of one another, one no more unique then the rest.

Standing atop the remains of a large stone pillar which towered up from the ramparts of a wall erected when the Vampiric empire was young, Kain gazed upon these soldiers close up for the first time. Whoever had created this army had paid exceptional attention to detail, for their armour was identical in almost every way to that of the original force.

"Resurrecting an army from a timeline erased?" He asked, calling out to them at the top of his lungs. "I must admit, you Divus certainly have a flare for the appropriate! I can think of nothing more fitting to be my final challenge than the army I failed to defeat in my youth! A second chance to wash clean a stain upon my record, as it were!" He made sure his voice carried, rising above the crash of thunderbolts from the storm, the howl of the wind and the rumble of churning water.

With a stomp which shook the ground the soldiers of this army all came to a sudden halt, row after row of them lining up behind the one in front. Kain could watch the wave of the halt travel back along their column as if their mass were the surface of a body of water. All their heads turned as one to look at him, their faces hidden behind their concealing helmets and visors. Kain grinned at the attention and reached back over his shoulder, taking hold of the Reaver's hilt and brandishing the sword towards them challengingly. Holding the sword aloft, its serpentine edge shone brightly in the light of a lightning bolt overhead.

"Well come then! Let the game begin! If you wish to avenge your gaudy towering monument to your own gaucheness, I await your first thrust!"

His declaration made to his enemy, he about turned and jumped down the far side of the pillar before any of them could loose an arrow or some other projectile in his direction. He skipped and slid his way down its sharp incline, vaulting from stone to stone along a crumbling wall. He moved some distance across a large encircling barrier, diving and dodging through the ruins of a once mighty defence, before he reached a rooftop of dark grey slate.

Over this he vaulted quickly, reaching the top and sliding down the far side and dropping off the edge. He turned head over heels several times before he landed with a firm thud in a small courtyard framed by two large rectangular buildings with crumbling mortar walls. Standing there waiting for him upon a cracked surface with the curving symbol of the long lost Razielim engraved into it, arms crossed behind his back in his usual fashion, was Vorador. The ancient Vampire gave him a very direct look, one eyebrow raised.

"Towering monument to your own gaucheness?" The once lord of the Black forest repeated sceptically and with a shake of his head. "Laying it on a bit thick there, aren't you?" Vorador was prepared for battle. His curving short sword Marrow was at his side and strapped across his back crossing each other were the twin axes, Havoc and Malice; the two axes which when used together were a whirlwind of gory mayhem. He had discarded his usual red robe and wore instead a padded leather jerkin with firmer bracers built into the forearms, his usual boots replaced with a matching leather pair with reinforced metal across the heels and toe. They looked like they had been taken from Vampire hunter stock.

"Know your audience, Vorador." Kain replied, cocking his head to one side to listen for a moment. "A little pandering and a poking of the ego can go a long way."

Sure enough after a few moments of anticipatory silence the crunch and rumble of those footsteps began once more, small stone chips scattered about leaping off the ground and dancing. From the steady increase of sound and vibration, Kain could tell that the army had changed its course and was now heading directly toward them. The Divus had indeed taken the bait. He allowed himself a little smile of satisfaction.

"Oh, well, you would know." Vorador remarked and that smile vanished. The would be Emperor of Nosgoth gave his long standing rival and former mentor a sidelong look.

"This is neither the time nor place." He announced briskly and strode past him through the yawning doorway into the building to their left, sheathing the Reaver blade back into its proper place as he went. Timing was crucial now and they had to be ready for when their enemy made their approach into these ruins.

The building was a large vestibule which still showed evidence of the exquisite designs of old frescos, murals and mosaics on almost every surface. Once this had been the entrance to a grand temple through which many hundreds of Vampires of the Empire had once come, all to worship their god and creator. The temple itself had collapsed long ago by now and was little more than a pile of rubble at the end of an adjoining corridor, its splendours lost beneath the debris.

Standing there staring up at the murals across the ceiling was the emaciated blue form of Raziel. The wraith seemed oblivious to the oncoming threat and the thud of its approaching footsteps, his gaze set upon the image high above. It was quite the splendid image, of a heroically displayed Vampire with jet black hair tied back into a pony tail wielding a red sword in one hand and carrying a pole in the other. From this pole hung two banners, one with the Imperial symbol and the other with the icon of the Razielim.

Raziel just stood there silently staring at the image of his lost beauty, of a handsome face which had gained him admirers across the entire dominion of the Empire. No matter how lionized and romanticized he had been depicted here, it was perhaps one of the few remaining images of that beauty.

"This has to be done, Raziel." Kain told him from the shadows of the doorway. Raziel was silent for a moment, the rising tempo of the enemy march a constant hum in the background. Then he let his shoulders relax in a slump and he turned his head to look at Kain. His featureless, luminous eyes held a wealth of regret and sadness in them.

"I know." He admitted, patting the side of a nearby wall with one hand. "This ruin is little more than a dwelling for shades and ghosts now. Let it be put to some practical use once more." His eyes closed briefly. "Even if for just one last time."

The force Kain had brought together to enact his plan had of course to be drastically limited, as the majority of the alliance was by now making time as best they could in their attempt to flee into the wilderness. As such, those he had decided to take with him to execute this endeavour were those exceptionally skilled individuals he knew he could rely on.

Vorador, despite being dismissive of his authority, was so adept a warrior and so proficient in the more destructive side of Serioli talent that his inclusion was absolutely necessary. Raziel of course, granted such awesome abilities with his unique form was a vital asset. Both of them would be needed in order to ensure that the plan worked and, once it had, that an escape could be affected.

Janos Audron was waiting for them at the far end of a long corridor, arms folded over his chest and wings tucked tightly behind him as he listened to the rumble of the approaching march. The eldest Vampire alive, Janos was perhaps not a skilled warrior but his tactical wisdom far outstripped physical prowess. His recent experiences seemed to have hardened him somewhat, giving him a fierce demeanour when approaching the topic of their struggle. He, more than anyone it seemed, was determined to put everything they had into the fight.

Beside him was Ajatar, who looked far more pensive than Janos. She was listening acutely to the approaching footsteps, her wings behind her rustling loudly in the way they always did when she was anxious about something. The way they were shaking now it was clear she was very uptight. She stood there rigidly, one hand on the hilt of one of her short swords and the other clenching and unclenching a fist over and over.

Towering a good several feet over them was Balam. Large even by Turelim standards, he was perhaps the tallest Vampire to ever exist. Even Dumah at the apex of his might had not been quite so tall. His thin, spreading ears gave him an extra few inches on top of his already impressive height. His bulk muscles and wide shoulders gave him an imposing girth and display of unrivalled physical strength. He was indispensable as an engine of war.

"I take it the bait was taken?" Janos asked rhetorically as the marching sound reaching a crescendo around them.

"With enthusiasm." Kain replied as he stepped forward, before turning to look at Ajatar's pensive far. "Is everyone in position?"

"Yes, Lord Kain." She grandmaster of the Serioli order said with quick nervousness, her wings seemingly not able to hold still even for a moment. "We await your command." Above her, Balam nodded in agreement with his shoulder muscles subtly flexing. Kain could not help but smile at the loyalty displayed. Ajatar and Balam showed their loyalty in different ways. One was eager and filled with enthusiasm. The other was reserved but steadfast in her faithfulness. Both approaches were gratifying.

"Then let's make this look convincing." He told them, directing them with a wave of the hand to begin.

The capital city and centre of the once proud and lofty Razielim clan had suffered siege, fire and the decay of centuries. It had been left standing merely as a monument to what had once been and a reminder of their supposed hubris before the other clans turned on them, believing that Raziel's kin should suffer the fate of their patriarch. The looting of precious land and wealth was perhaps also a potent lure. Gone were the grandest displays of power and fortune, chipped off, battered down or burned.

The walls of the city, however, had withstood the test of time. They were all meters thick and toweringly high, designed to defend the city of the first born clan and to inspire awe and fear into any army which dared to even consider laying siege to them. After the slaughter of the clan centuries ago they had sat disused and abandoned, devoid of purpose. Now that purpose had come again, for another army was descending upon the city and the massive pitted iron gate was pulled shut against them and barred.

That of course would prove no barrier to the oncoming enemy, but the thickness of the walls did mean the southward facing main gate was their only means of ingress. Once through that door the buildings gathered either side of the grand central pavilion acted as a funnel, directing any incoming body of men directly into the centre of the city before the remains of the once great statue of the Razielim patriarch and his castle just beyond.

The great barred gate shuddered as it was besieged, a great battering ram brought against its pitted surface. Sadly this gate had not fa the centuries as well as the walls themselves and each blow swung against it caused its substance to buckle and crack, large jagged portions of it falling away and sent flying. The great bar across it could not withstand the attacks and it began to bend in the middle. Even the large hinges of the gate were being torn bit by bit out of their sockets. Then with one final crashing force the ancient gate was went tumbling to the ground, collapsing into a pile of twisted metal.

The Legion advanced into the city virtually over the falling metal, row after disciplined row of soldiers forming a line so rigidly held it was as if they were a rising tide of blackness engulfing everything in their path. The battering ram they had used to break through was being carried above them, supported by their physical strength alone. It was a massive pillar of steel formed from cylindrical pieces that seemed to have been formed from many dozens of tall tower shields all fitted together; or at least it seemed from a distance.

The soldiers lowered the siege engine as they walked and it disappeared into their midst, being dismantled even as they marched; like a horde of ants over the carcass of a fallen enemy. The way they went about such silent efficiency struck Kain as not just unnatural but mechanical. No living beings moved the way they did, as if the concept of movement at all was a foreign one to them and were merely going through the textbook guide to basic locomotion. Whatever they might turn out to be however, they had still fallen for his ruse.

The invaders marched over the once grand floor of the main pavilion and waiting for them, as planned, were Balam and three of his strongest Turelim warriors. Their orders however were not to engage, much to their profound disapproval, but rather to begin the first act. As the soldiers came forward, two hunting vampires surged forward making a loud a roar as they possibly could. At the same time Balam and the remaining warrior slammed into two large stone pillars behind which they had been hiding.

As the pillars toppled forward, the vampires drew sharply back allowing them to crash to the ground of dust. As they ran they made as much noise as possible, shouting, yelling, pausing every now and then to throw rocks back through the obscuring dust cloud into the teeth of the invaders. Then as the Turelim pulled back out of range, Ajatar and several of her Serioli swept overhead from the rooftops of the deserted buildings either side. They flew a sharp dance back and forth through the cover of the dust, dropping more rocks into the midst of the black armoured soldiers.

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"It was bombastic. An almost childish act of theatre. The entire point to merely convince the Divus that there were more defending this Razielim ruin than were actually present, luring them deeper and deeper into the city. Fate grant me the time I would need to devise a stratagem to eventually defeat this black army once and for all."

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By the time the dust had settled, Ajatar and Balam had already pulled their forces back and out of sight, but the ambush had done its job. The soldiers began forward after them again, this time at a far quicker pace, breaking into a run with their weapons held forward. They poured into the city, through its streets and between its large stone columns seeking the enemy which had harassed them. From the concealing safety of a thin arrow slit window behind the wall of a tower, Kain watched them go with a little smile parting his lips. So far, so good.

The invading army raced across the pavilions and into the central courtyard. There they were met by a hail of crossbow bolts fired from concealment of the ring of battlements which leaned out over the courtyard from all three sides. The Serioli had taken many Vampire hunter crossbows along with a hefty supply of bolts and had learned enough to operate them effectively, Ajatar's warriors keeping up a constant rate of fire which riddled the first few ranks of soldiers with so many bolts they looked like they had sprouted quills.

But the soldiers merely toppled and fell over when they were brought down. They made no sound as usual, not even a cry of pain and not a single one of them was bleeding. When they collapsed, their comrades simply stepped over them, sometimes even stepping upon them as if their corpses weren't even there. Kain frowned, watching this unfold. No, they certainly weren't Human. But they weren't homunculi either, of that he was certain. They were something quite new.

"Kain! They're trying to flank us!" Vorador's sharp yell brought him instantly out of his contemplation and he turned around quickly.

Raziel was running across the length of the smaller pavilion behind the buttress, the wraith blade already flaring from his arm. Vorador was across the open space, pulling a large pair of bared gates shut and locking them into place, moments before a thick rush of black armoured soldiers came slamming into the gate from the other side. Somehow a sizeable portion of the enemy had found a route through the ruins to their position, a position Kain had thought to be secure and hidden.

Kain swore loudly and leapt down from the buttress, drawing the Reaver from across his back in one swift motion. The gate was an ornamental decorative thing, not a barrier intended to keep intruders out. After so many centuries of neglect it was no impediment to the assault being directed against it. Before Kain even reached the other side of the small pavilion it was already being forced off its hinges.

The soldiers poured through entrance as the gate fell away, swords raised and shields out before them. Pikes thrust out from in between gaps in the shield way, stabbing forward when an opening presented itself. There was a steady steam of them coming in, the number of black armoured figures behind them with not seeming limit. Even now their rigid and tightly disciplined formation did not faulty.

Their advance met the combined fury of Kain, Raziel and Vorador directly. Their shield wall held firm, for perhaps about five seconds. Then it gave way in a shower of black metallic shards as the Reaver was forced through their line with a spectral screech. The serpentine blade tore through shield after shield until it met with flesh and passed through with enough shear force to cleave a pair of arms clean off. Through sheer force of main strength Kain smashed through their defence, shattering their shields and providing the far more nibble Raziel an opening.

The blue wraith dived past Kain even as the Vampire came to the end of his swung, ducking under the arching blade of the Reaver. He was in amongst the black armoured men, slashing his spectral blade at their legs. It screamed as it swung back and forth through the air, cleaving its way through limb after limb. Soldier after soldier toppled backwards, falling with their legs slashed to stumps. With an acrobatic twist allowed by his spindly body, he kicked their falling bodies back into their advancing fellows.

As their ranks wavered, their formation breaking up, Vorador made his move. He hadn't drawn his one handed blade for this, but rather reached back to pull out the twin axes Havoc and Malice. The twins, both perfectly balanced weapons and made for use with the other, churned the air as Vorador began to spin around on his axis. He became a veritable whirlwind of sheer force. Pieces of armour with limbs still inside them went flying in all directions, scattered about as if discarded from threshing shark.

Kain kicked a soldier down as it lunged at him, swinging a curved sword at his midsection. The blow knocked the aggressor back and as it staggered, he plunged the Reaver directly into its body burying it to the hilt. The sound it made as it plunged it was not the wet tearing gurgle of flesh parting however, but rather a jagged ripping sound very much akin to the sound made by an axe as it split firewood. There was no blood, no bursting gore, no scream of pain. And perhaps more disturbingly, the Reaver made no surge and cry of ravenous delight as it feasted on a soul. For there was no soul to feast upon.

With a snarl of disgust Kain kicked the body off his sword and turned to bring it down sharply across the length of another coming at him from behind. He was about to turn to decapitate a third when suddenly Janos came hurtling down out of the air to land with force upon the soldier, crushing him to the ground with the full force of his weight. The soldier crumbled under him, collapsing with a crunching sound like rocks grinding together.

Then looming over them was the hulking figure of Balam. The towering Turelim leader raced past them both, his thick arms swinging wide. He caught several of the black armoured soldiers up in his massive hands, lifting them clear off their feet and used them as crude but effective weapons to bludgeon their fellows. Each blow rang out deafening crashes across the courtyard, large chunks of black armour and fragmented limbs going flying over their heads.

"Cut them off!" Kain yelled loudly, jabbing with his sword toward the open gateway where Vorador and Raziel were still barely holding the horde back in the bottleneck. Balam nodded once, tossing his improvised weapons aside. He set his large body, scraping his feet across the ground several times before he burst into a furious run. The sheer force of his stampeding form knocked over a dozen soldiers off to either side, as well as trampling a dozen more simply underfoot.

Vorador and Raziel had one startled look back as all the warning they would get, which was just enough for them both to leap clear and tumble out of the way. A spilt second later Balam crashed with terrible force directly into the gate, smashing through the stone pillar on one side and then the other. Fragments of masonry burst into the air in a cloud of bellowing dust as, with its support gone, the roof of the gate came crashing down right on top of the charging soldiers. The debris cascaded down and piled up high, blocking the passageway completely.

The remaining soldiers on this side of the now blocked passage came together to put up a fight, trying to get back into some sort of formation. But Kain set to them with a furious well, hacking through them, almost chopping. The Reaver blade spun, dancing through the air, sending heads, arms and legs scattering across the floor. His allies set to work around them, bash, slashing and hacking their way through their assailants until they all meet up in the middle and Vorador and Kain finished off the same soldier together with their weapons connecting inside the body before it collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.

"By the pit!" Janos gasped suddenly with a sharply drawn intake of breath, gazing down with wide eyes at the shattered pieces of bodily debris lying at his feet. His exclamation drew everyone's attention and they followed his gaze. limbs lay all about them; arms and legs and decapitated heads. But there was no blood at all, not so much as a drop. The skin stretched over those limbs seemed human enough but beneath, the flesh was a pale dark grey.

The heads scattered about were much the same, normal on the outside and grey on the inside. Additionally, now that Kain had the chance to look at them outside of the chaos of battle; he could see that every single face on these heads was exactly the same. The soldiers were identical, even down to what could only be a cosmetic scar running down the left cheek and across the jawline.

Raziel slowly bent down and picked up an arm, holding it out for them all to see. The flesh was ringed out from the centre like the layers of a tree stump, totally boneless and devoid of any internal structure.

"I had thought as much." Kain mused, lowering the Reaver with a frown creasing his face.

"What manner of twisted abominations are these?" Vorador asked as Raziel handed him the limb. The ancient Vampire probed the arm stump with a talon experimentally. "Their flesh is like wood! Are they trees in human form?"

"Or some new species of homunculus?" Raziel guessed dimly. Kain deepened his frown at the questions this all raised, but a sudden booming of something large striking an obstructing barrier recalled him to the more important task at hand. He half turned, looking back over his shoulder towards the battlement where he had been observing the battle unfold. The boom came again, and again. The invaders must have reached the inner gate to the Razielim palace itself, a gate barred and protected by Ajatar and her strongest warriors.

"Presently we do not have the leisure to answer that curiosity!" He declared, turning sharply to grasp Janos by one shoulder. "Is Lorenzo prepared?" Janos blinked and looked up quickly, visibly steadying himself.

"He should be by now." He said in a somewhat strained voice.

"Then tell Ajatar to hold her ground until the last possible moment. Once Lorenzo starts, we will have to act quickly." Kain told him, giving him a little shove to get him moving. Before Janos could even take off again, the would be Emperor of Nosgoth was turning to issue more commands.

"Balam, you know your orders." He shouted up at the towering vampire.

"As you command!" Balam responded and quickly moved off, kicking the bodily debris causally out of his way.

Kain gestured for Raziel and Vorador to follow him as he moved back up the battlement, hurrying to catch up on what the surprise attack from the rear had forced him to miss. By now the large pavilion below was filled with their enemy, piling in so thick there was scarcely a patch of uncovered ground. More of them were pouring down to join the attack on the inner wall. Already the battering ram with which they had forced the outer gate open was being reassembled, indeed using shields and weapons as raw material.

From the buttress overhanging the inner wall, Serioli warriors were running back and forth unleashing a torrent of elemental fury upon the besieging army. Pillars of fire rained down, shadowed by shards of ice which formed from the moisture of the air. Many black armoured soldiers fell under the barrage, their armour melting or embedded with impaling ice. But their fellows paid them no need, carrying on as if nothing had occurred.

Kain watched, turning his head to the left to watch as, with a loud boom, his orders to the Turelim were carried out. Balam and his warriors were moving swiftly across the rooftop of a nearby building. As soon as they were in position, all four of them positioned themselves in a tense squat before leaping forward. It was a jump that had all the force of their reinforced strength put into it and it carried them up and over the heads of the besieging legions.

With a tremendous crash they all slammed into the side of a tall tower. They tore through its brick and stone easily, bashing out its foundational support. The tower shuddered, wavered back and forth and then began to topple forward. It lost its shape as it fell so when it finally came down it slammed into the ground was a bellowing cloud of brick and dust. The booming crash was tremendous, the ground shaking so much Kain had to put a hand out to steady himself.

The debris cascaded everywhere, piling up so high that it completely blocked the way out of the central pavilion. Hundreds if not thousands of the black armoured legionnaires were now trapped between the defended inner wall and the mountains of debris, separating them from reinforcements and leaving them incapable of retreating.

The next part of the plan came right on schedule. It made itself known first by a high pitched whine that increased in volume with every passing second. It reached such high levels that it actually became painful to the ear and all three of those watching from the parapet winced almost in unison, Raziel going so far as to bring his hands up to cover his ears.

A moment later the strike came. The Turelim's attack jump had been devastating enough but what occurred then dwarfed it. Three black objects moving so quickly it was impossible to register anything other than the general shape of a cone came hurtling overhead, virtually falling out of the sky. They crashed down into the pavilion right into the midst of the black legionnaires, punching through ranks like cheap parchment and embedded themselves deep into the earth.

A fraction of a moment afterward a tremendous fireball burst forth, blasting up through the ground and turning almost the entire pavilion into a raging inferno. Black armoured figures were either sent flying in pieces or incinerated on the spot, black dust and bodily debris raining down all around with much of it still on fire. Kain, who had not been prepared for the accompanying shockwave, had had to keep hold of the stone buttress to prevent himself being blown over by the impact.

"Long range bombardment." Vorador murmured with a nod of grim approval at the devastation laid out before them, his large ears flapping about his head as the wind the fires were producing blew up across them. "Renders their superior numbers almost meaningless."

Kain had to raise his hand to shield his face from the glare and heat of the flames, his brow furrowing. Through the gaps in his talons he could see the flames consuming vast piles of bodies quickly, as if spread over the finest prepared kindling. The light from that inferno was casting long shadows in all directions.

"I have seen mortars before, but never on so grand a scale." He admitted, quite surprised. He had of course planned for some form of long range attack, but something of this calibre had never crossed his mind.

"Lorenzo called it 'artillery'." Vorador announced in a matter of fact tone of voice, still seemingly unfazed by being so close to the point of impact. "Using compressed gas from the Endurance's balloon it propels shells up to about a foot in length."

"Only a foot?" Raziel asked, sceptically. The blue wraith had sensibly retreated back behind a stone pillar to escape the worst of the onslaught. The impact had fractured that pillar down one side, small stones falling free. "A trebuchet can throw far larger rocks."

"Oh that might not sound impressive, but when they're fired at such speed their impact causes much more devastation than anything a mere catapult or trebuchet could accomplish." Vorador assured him, smiling in an altogether vicious way and nodding down to the now demolished pavilion and the flaming hole which now took its place. "As you can see."

Kain half turned to look back over what he thought the trajectory of the projectiles had been. It had all happened so fast that it was hard tell. The plan had been for Lorenzo to set up his bombardment from the cliffs overlooking the Abyss just to the north. Had they truly been able to cause such destruction from that far away, with only a handful of three foot shells?

"Interesting. I shall have to speak to him about it someday." He mused, the potential of such weapons piquing an interest in his mind.

"He's not going to make them for you." Vorador told him flatly.

"We shall see, Vorador. I can be quite..."

"Look out!" Raziel lunged forward and tackled the two arguing elder Vampires, knocking them both down and onto the ground. His intervention came only just in time, for the spot where they had been standing suddenly caved in as a heavy object the length and width of a tree trunk came crashing down out of the sky to bash it to pieces. Everything happened so fast. Kain was face down on the battlement stones as a tremendous shadow swept over them.

Quickly he scrambled up, Reaver in hand, looking about with frantic motions before he spotted their assailant. The beast was already slipping back up into the dark clouds above, but that retreating tail and the shadow of those vast beating wings gave him away instantly.

"Thanatos!" Vorador snarled, pulling himself back up. "Quickly, we need to find cover!" Before he had even finished speaking however, his words were drowned out by a flash and terrible booming. A bolt of lightning shot out of the storm swirling about the Abyss and directly onto their flying enemy. The Dragon's body glowed so brightly in the clouds they could see his terrible outline from the ground. Then with a tremendous sound which hurt all their ears, Thanatos redirected that lightning forward until it collided with the cliffs to the north.

Kain did not even need to see the distant explosion to know that Lorenzo's artillery siege engine had been instantly destroyed.

Thanatos circled back, his massive wings beating and fanning the flames down below in a roaring frenzy. His huge body descended out of the clouds and landed with a thud on top of one of the ruined buildings, the digits of his large front paws curling around the old neglected masonry. His head was raised up over the flames, arching forward like a snake with his mouth half open exposing his row upon row of curving sharp teeth. Atop his head, the strange protective helmet he had been given to protect his eyes had been adapted into a visor which gave him a truly demonic visage, with curving sheets of metal running down either side of his head like the horns of a goat.

"And here I thought the mighty Thanatos, last of the once great Uni, would have more pride than to be a mere beast of war for the Divus!" Vorador cried out defiantly, drawing his sword and holding it forward.

Thanatos swung his head around to look toward them. His wings fanned rhythmically either side of his colossal body, the flames beneath sparking and roaring with new life each time. His long tail, ending in a feathered tuft, lashed behind him with so much force that when it collided with another building it knocked a wall out.

-"If I am to be made a beast of war, I will be such a beast that I will bathe this world in destruction the likes of which it has never seen!"- The words radiated from the Dragon's mind, a telepathic communication which required no actual spoken language. Very much their method of communication was similar to the Vampiric skill of the Whisper, only far more potent. Far less a whisper and more of a shout.

That massive head lowered, lips drawn back to expose all of those teeth, each one the length of a short sword or dagger. Behind those teeth flickers of fresh fire, ready to be unleashed, sparked and flamed.

-"And you...YOU will BURN!"- Those words, projected into the mind, were filled with scores of venom, hatred and towering anger.

"You know Vorador, I have the distinct impression the Dragon doesn't like you." Raziel deadpanned.