Pain, that was what encompassed the Locus Priest's mind as their howls echoed throughout the chamber. Fresh burning yet loose chains held the priest at their arms and legs. Their screaming continued as a syringe, disguised as an ornate dagger, sunk into its heart, painstakingly drawing out a part of the priest's humanity, a part of its very soul.

When the dagger was finished and drawn out the locust fell to the ground as a tiny trail of blood dripped out the hole. All the while as the dagger glowed for a moment with dark energy. Then almost instantly, the wound was healed as the figure who held the dagger waved their hand over it.

The locust naturally reared their head as far right as they could, trying to look away from their torturer whose light singed their eyes. A figure whose details could not be seen save for a humanoid shape that glowed with a light that only if all the stars and suns combined into one could match. "Even after all this time, I still have only scratched the surface. Both you, and your history. Absolutely fascinating."

As the figure spoke, an abomination flew beside them with wings of eagles on their back. The abomination was small like a child, but their arms and legs were unnaturally bone and long with a scrawny torso. Their face, covered by a gold featureless mask save for Cheshire grin engraved on it. The figure handed the abomination the syringe-like dagger and the abomination flew away, "Though I do wonder, do you know where this... Ashen One is? Or perhaps where the remains of this slave knight might be? Or maybe even... A certain painting?"

The priest said nothing, "No? Pity. Anyway," the figure snapped their fingers and the chains tightened on the command, lifting the priest and holding them against the wall, "Just pieces of your soul, in the form of tools and trinkets, are enough to enhance the power of the gods I have made. Not to mention, you seemingly are able to grow in power infinitely. And your power can mimic my, no not just mimic, possibly improve upon my power. If you were at your full strength, you would be a threat to me."

The figure chuckled before giving a sigh of disappointment, "Though," the small winged creature flew back and returned the dagger. In an instant the figure sunk the blade into the priest. The priest screamed as it felt more of its soul being ripped out, "You are still so weak. Just a tiny piece of the puzzle, a puzzle I cannot find the rest of. But you will do, I am patient," the figure removed the dagger forcibly as it glowed with humanity again. The chains loosened and like before the priest fell to the ground with a thud, "After all, what is another millennium or two for one such as I? I lived through millions of those already. Till then, I will plant the seeds for you to grow. If you are what I seek, this world and its realms will fall to your knees. If not, oh well. I can always start again clean."

With another snap of the fingers, runes of light appeared all around the chamber. The figure's then drifted off the ground and the figure started to hover away, causing the room to grow darker and darker. Then, just before they left, the figure spoke, "I will find what I seek, no matter the cost. No matter how many worlds I must create and destroy."

The figure then left, effortlessly creating a wall of glass behind them to act as a window. The chains then tightened and dragged the priest into the darkest part of the room against the wall. The priest would never see that figure again as they sat in that silent chamber, nor would they see any light save for the runes again, that is until...

...

It heard the sound of a rusty door creak open, "Man, to think something like this was underneath us this entire time."

...

...

...

Gael's eye shot upon as he was greeted with every fabric of body feeling as though it was burning. His vision was still fuzzy, his throbbing, his hearing slightly muffled. It was as if something was trying to burst out of his body but was unable to. Without controlling his own head, Gael watched as he turned and looked behind Petre who was on the ground coughing blood and vomiting.

The small figure was still there, their details shrouded by the darkness save for the hollow eyes and broken frail body. Everything but the figure was still fuzzy in his vision, it was as if he couldn't even control where his eyes could look. Once again, he heard that amalgamation of a voice speak in his mind, "Rise Gael, they know you are here. Your battle against my champion has caught their eye and they had sent a tool to see past my shroud over you. You must hurry!"

Gael tried to notice any new details on the figure, the harder it became. It was like the figure was an abyss cut out in the shape of a person. Then as Gael's vision returned with his head feeling like a beating heart, the figure was gone without Gael even blinking. His vision was returned to normal, and he could move his eyes and head again. However, the slave knight still felt tired, so very tired. "Gael, are you... alright?" Choked out Petre who was barely holding himself up on his hands and knees.

The slave knight's eyes widened in horror as he could see more clearly Petre's condition. He was paler than normal, and parts of skin were wrinkly and flakey, like an old man. Part of his hair had turned white, and Gael could easily see every vein in the man's body. Without a second thought Gael forced himself up against the pain, "Forget me- were getting you help!"

Petre could only cough up more blood as he tried to respond. But Gael wouldn't listen, Petre needed help. He wouldn't let Petre die. Gael hoisted the man onto his shoulder and started fumbling his way out, grabbing his talisman and the rest of his equipment on the way. Through stairs, bridges and pathways both wide and cramped Gael ascended back up the mountain.

Meanwhile, Gael could swear he could see the abyss shaped figure in the darkness and in the corner of his eyes. The Voice spoke in Gael's head again, "Your mind and body are still spending almost all their strength to grow to properly use your newfound power. I did this so you wouldn't end up as a mindless beast. But you are not fit to fight right now. If the time comes, run."

At those words of the Voice, Gael realized he could bone growing out from his spine and neck and into his cloak as if it was his skin. But he shook his head and kept going. As Gael made it to the stairs leading directly out, he quickened his pace as his legs felt as though they would fail him any moment. If it weren't for an undead's ability to quickly recover stamina, he wouldn't have made it this far without collapsing.

He was reminded of what had happened before they had entered the mountain as the sun shined in his eyes. The ruined palace, now just a clearing with sparse large chunks of rubble populating it. Gael just stood there, looking at the sight of death and ruin all around him as he contemplated what to do next.

Gael put Petre down and Petre couldn't even stand up as he fumbled his way to the wall, leaning onto it for support before throwing up a red ooze. Gael just stared at Petre, who looked even worse than before, his skin wrinkly and cheeks hollow like an old man. "Gael, there's nothing you can do," croaked Petre, whose voice now matched his elderly expression, "We're out of wine, and from what I've seen the gods aren't on good terms with you. Leave me behind, I'll get help on my own."

The old slave knight knew immediately what Petre was suggesting. He knew how Petre felt about his patron deity and an idea of their relationship. But at this point, Gael understood. Perhaps it was best for them to part ways for now, to someone who could actually help him. Gael couldn't make the wine, nor did he know of any place to obtain it. At least this way Petre would be alright-

Gael suddenly noticed a large shadow form above him. Without looking, Gael moved out of the way as a giant cage in the shape of a claw crashed where he was before closing its metal jaw shut. He would have been trapped in there if he hadn't moved so quickly. But then the bars of the cage began to turn, revealing golden eyes that were now staring at Gael.

The knight only could gasp for breath before he dashed to the side, avoiding golden energy being fired out from the eyes. The eyes kept following Gael, trying to intercept and hit him with one of their eye beams. However, one of the beams hit Gael in his right leg and the moment it hit his leg, a golden cuff formed there with a strange glowing rune of yellow. It burned Gael, and it was making him feel weaker. Just what was this!?

"Recharging," Came an emotionless and mechanical voice from the cage.

Above Gael he heard a rough voice, a voice that reminded him of a smith he had met long ago during his career as a slave knight, "Keep him busy! Don't let him escape!"

Gael sensed something coming from behind and he brought his great sword to his back. Gael was almost sent to the ground from the force of a blade he managed to block. The wielder was a woman clad in armor and wielding a radiant sword in her right hand and a radiant shield of light in her left, "Glad we're going with my idea! Though can you make that thing recharge faster, Hephaestus!?"

"Oh sorry! Not like I just got those ancient rune designs from Lescatie working for the first time today! Oh wait, I did!" Retorted the voice.

Gael gritted his teeth and slowly pushed against his assailant before moving to the side and turning towards the woman with a slash of his own blade. The warrior managed to parry the blade and swung back. Gael blocked the attack, which sent him sliding across the ground, almost reaching a nearby edge of the mountain.

The warrior then flew up into the air and directly down in the twinkle of an eye. Gael moved to the side, avoiding the attack as the mountain was cut in half from the goddess. He was already getting tired, so he had to do something they might not expect. Gael didn't block the next attack or dodge, instead he swung back.

He watched as the swing cut his assailant's torso, with blood flowing through. However, time seemed to stop and then reverse itself. Then instead of Gael's blow landing, a giant skeletal arm burst from beneath Gael and hit him with an uppercut, sending him to the ground while a pillar of bone unintentionally blocked the warrior's attack.

Gael forced himself up and saw who caused the pillar of bone, a woman dressed in all black like a widow and long hair. She had a look of grief and had a slight hint of hate in her eyes. Suddenly more fists and pillars of bone formed all around, which Gael attempted to dodge. However, it was like the bones could see into the future, for every time Gael made a dodge that would've worked, he was instead proven wrong with a hit. He was getting thrown all around by the skeletal fists.

However, while being flung through the air, Gael fought against his pain and burning muscles and fired from his crossbow at the woman. The bolt almost hit her, however a woman dressed in black and purple suddenly appeared with the bolt in her hands. "Thanks, I didn't... see that coming," Responded the mourning woman.

"Don't mention it, Hel," Responded the harlot who then turned to Gael and instantly appeared in front of him, sending him straight towards the cage with a powerful punch that echoed like a dragon's roar. The harlot woman shook her now bloodied and bruised fist, "That should've killed him, but my hand... We need to take him out now!"

"Recharge complete" Echoed the machine as Gael flew towards it. Gael knew what would happen if he kept going in the air, but he couldn't dodge it. He couldn't. The pain in his body was too much to teleport, and the cuff on his leg was slowly draining him of strength. This was hopeless. It was at that moment Gael spotted the corpse of Koro, just staring at him lifelessly. That man was a champion and was in worse condition than him yet could still fight on. He could quit now. He had to try, he had to give it everything.

Gael focused hard behind the mourning woman, his entire burning, the cuff singing his leg, his breath short, and blood dripping out of his nose. His head began to hurt more and more, but then he saw runes form behind the woman. Then right as the beams from the cage were about to reach Gael, he managed to do it, forming behind the woman as he screamed with pain.

Gael turned that pain to something he could use to focus and swung at the woman. The blow would have landed, but that harlot suddenly appeared in front of him again and struck his face with another blow of her fist, breaking Gael's nose and stunning him long enough for the last beam of the cage to hit his left arm. "Recharging," said the machine again.

The warrior flew towards Gael, all the while he spotted a winged woman flying high above with a bow and taking aim. He didn't have time to use his hands, he had to do something. The growing bones in his cloak twitched and at the command of Gael's subconscious, blocked the incoming attacks like a shield as dark red energy formed around it.

Then with a roar from Gael the cloak turned from a shield to claws and slashed at his assailants. The harlot disappeared farther away, the warrior blocked, and the mourner managed to perfectly dodge the incoming attacks. The winged woman wasn't so lucky as Gael managed to slash at her wings, causing her to descend to the ground. However, the winged woman landed perfectly and started dashing backwards while firing at Gael.

Gael kept blocking the attacks trying to find a moment to run, but every time he tried to flee the harlot or the mourner would stop him at the last moment. Then as Gael pushed back more attacks with his cloak and blade, he fell to the ground from the slashes of a cat woman in elegant jewelry who slid beneath his feet.

Then before he had more time to react, a woman wielding a gold chalice appeared and slammed said chalice as burning out wine poured endlessly from it at Gael's face, burning his skin off. The harlot started firing orbs of dark energy at Gael, which slashed at his body. The winged woman, who had regrown her severed wing, flew back into the air and kept firing. The mourner caused spikes of bone to protrude from the ground and sink into Gael's body and cloak, helping pin him into place.

Then the warrior readied his sword and thrust it towards Gael. Gael, who could barely see from the burning wine, was able to notice the attack and moved his head to the side as the blade missed Gael, tearing the mountain into quarters. But the warrior then readied another swing. What was he to do, he could barely see, he couldn't move, he was stuck.

Then it hit Gael, he remembered what the Bearer did. Though he didn't know the miracles, and could grab his talisman, Gael focused hard, trying to use the power within him to imitate that power, trying to do it similarly to how he teleported. He had to do it. He imagined a thing of clay in his mind, and he began to form it into what he wanted it to be. There was no confirmation this would work.

What Gael did, was not cast the wrath of the gods. Instead, he created his own spell, his own hex through his power, will, and emotions. WRATH OF HUMANITY.

Every one of his assailants were sent flying back as a dark energy burst from him, causing a crater to form around him. Gael could see bruises on some of his foes, confirming that it could hurt. But after that, Gael felt drained. It was taking everything to stand. Then he heard the machine echo, "Recharge complete."

Gael would've dodged, but it was too late as a giant of steel crashed behind him and attempted to squash him like a bug. Gael only had time to raise his arms and prevent himself getting crushed, but he couldn't move, nor did he have any stamina left in him to teleport out of the way as the cage fired. Each beam landed its mark, cuffing every limb with gold.

Then when the cuffs formed, golden chains formed with them and started dragging Gael into the cage. The giant stopped and allowed the cage to drag him in. The Slave Knight attempted to struggle, but the golden cuffs with their glowing runes sapped all his strength and burned his body. Then with the sound of the cage shutting, Gael was trapped inside as he collapsed to the ground.

His vision grew blurry as he couldn't move so much as a finger. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness and being dragged away was a Petre who looked like a corpse staring at him with despair, unable to physically do anything.

(A/N)

Well, this arc is finally finished. I will probably make an anniversary chapter soon seeing as it's been 2 years.

Man, that's weird, 2 years and this story is not even halfway finished. Next arc, or whatever it should be called, will be a bunch of mini arcs focusing on characters already shown in this fic. Most of them will not have combat, key word most.

Specifically, Yami, Sasha, Druella, and one with both Petre and Poseidon in that order. At least, that's the plan rn. These will be to help grow the characters more, truly finish the stories for some, and build the world more especially in preparation of what will begin once these mini arcs are over. After all, I am making this fic to tell a story to the best of my abilities while improving on my writing capabilities, not a something meant for nothing but wish fulfillment.

(And no this was not random. I had planned this defeat since the start of the arc. Also, if Gael was in this situation before absorbing the Bearer's soul and needing time to grow his body, or the gods didn't ambush and got those cuffs on him, this would've turned out a lot differently.)