My great thanks to TodaBruh, who kindly chose to use some of his free time to be my beta reader!
Glyu-Uno, homeworld of the Dragon species, City of Warden's Keep.
The current Dragon-Abyss War has not raged for long. All things considered, it was barely a blink of an eye in the lives of the dragons, especially when compared to the Eldritch War that saw their kind born from the sheer bloodshed where even Gods died regularly.
And yet, the war was without a doubt brutal. The Red Dragonflight had to hunt down cultists of Hell and the Abyss, starting a shadow war that saw blood shed like rivers in hidden corners of their capital city.
The Blue Dragonflight, meanwhile, had to deal with an incursion of Shadows demons backed by a grand ritual of darkness, which while eventually dealt with, had still resulted in days of brutal, constant fighting.
The Bronze Dragonflight had to go fight the demons of the Abyss in their own home, holding the line against legions upon legions of their unholy kind while their champions fought Demon Lords.
The Green Dragonflight had to fight a full-scale battle in the Dreamlands, battling demons as much as they did literal nightmares and evil denizens of the realms of Dreams. While victory was ultimately achieved, it was certainly not without losses.
And then, last but certainly not least, there is the Black Dragonflight. The warriors of their kind. The proud defenders of Dragon-kind against all who would see them broken.
And also the biggest target of the Abyss.
From the first day of the war, casualties were high. The war started in the middle of their city, where every home could just as well be held by loyalists as they could be taken over by cultists and demons. The advanced warning the Black dragons had saved many… but not all.
In another world, at another time, a city called Stalingrad would see some of the most brutal, deadly fighting in one of the greatest wars that the world had ever seen.
Here and now, the same was happening to Warden's Keep. Every house was fought bitterly over. Every street was filled by hate-filed soldiers mercilessly killing one another.
Artillery fired continuously, killing and maiming countless, relentlessly trying to pound the other side into submission or death.
Great magic spells and rituals were unleashed, turning entire parts of the city into blazing inferno, cursed no-man's lands, and worse.
Men, women, children, none were spared from the brutal, vicious war taking place.
The greatest warriors of both sides could be seen constantly fighting, barely able to get any rest before being sent out again. The greatest of demons fought the greatest of dragons in titanic clashes that shook the entire city, even when those fights took place high in the sky.
The more time went by, the more the losses grew greater. The wounded of yesterday became the maimed of tomorrow, only to become the corpses of the day after. Assassins targeted hospitals and medics, sabotage saw to the deaths of many behind the frontlines, for in this melting pot of hate and death, only victory mattered.
Entire city districts were turned into rubble, only for the rubble to be viciously fought over. Then artillery and magic turned rubble-covered streets into giant craters, with more soldiers sent in to fight and die inside of them.
Frontlines shifted constantly, as both sides knew they were on a timetable. Either the demons would successfully break the city before reinforcement could come, or the demons would become outnumbered and be doomed to lose the battle… and with it, the war for this world.
Unable to call on reinforcement from the Abyss by the might of the King of the Eldritch protecting the world, the Abyssal forces instead fought like cornered beasts, lashing out with zealous hatred for those who would dare challenge the might of Demon-kind.
It was an all-or-nothing battle, and both sides knew it. The Abyss had to win now, or the Eldritch would push them out of this world for eons. And with the displeasure of Queen Slann hanging like a sword of Damocles upon the heads of all Abyssal forces present, they fought on as hard and viciously as they could.
Two of Neltharion's sons and his daughter had already been forced out of the battlefield, as the wounds they took had proven too severe to justify sending them back out again. His consort too had been wounded, the wound on her right wing cursed with enough Abyssal magic to make healing it a slow process.
The rest of his children and himself continued to fight, Neltharion himself making full use of the magical tome of Eldritch knowledge bound to him to fight every esoteric threat to himself and his people as the days went by.
Allowing himself only a few rare hours of sleep here and there, Al Azif did not even give herself that much.
She did not need to sleep, and so she didn't. Every minute of every hour of every day, the newly "born" woman continued to fight off the magics of the demons, dedicating everything she had to the cause her Lord and Creator had seen fit to bestow upon her.
Kneeling inside a ritual circle, part of her focus was on the wounded dragons, both related to Neltharion and not, that were continuously brought to her for healing, whether from physical wounds or deadly curses. Every time she managed to heal one, it felt as if two more took their places, so many were those wounded and in need of help.
Another part of her focused on the wards of the city and the palace, keeping them strong and without flaws as countless cultists and demons tried ceaselessly to penetrate their defenses, waiting for the slightest opening to teleport hordes of assassins within their ranks to sow chaos and destruction.
Hundreds, even thousands of Divination spells were always battering her mind, trying to find the slightest breach they could use to extract any and all information that they could get about the defenses of the loyalists forces, or their plans, or… anything that could give the Abyss an advantage.
Whispers echoed in her thoughts from all the Abyssal magic dedicated to corrupting all who might be touched by them. She alone bore the burden of holding back those accursed seeds of Damnation, making full use of her nature as the greatest tome of knowledge in existence to hold it all back, letting not even a speck of corruption escape her sight and power.
Memetic-hazards by the hundreds of thousands slammed against her mental defenses, occasionally reaching the millions when the more powerful demons turned their attention towards her, using any free time they had to test and push her defenses.
For all of that, she was proud of the fact that so far, she bore the full brunt of the demons' attacks without flinching. She had been given life by the greatest god of magic in existence, and it showed. Even by "herself", without offloading the load of corruption thrown her way by sharing it with other copies of her book throughout the cosmos, she easily withstood everything thrown at her.
But then again, that was to be expected. She had been created to fight against even the likes of Queen Slann herself, if necessary. Whether or not she could win such a fight was a massive question mark, but it was theoretically possible.
She was meant to be to magic what Damelone was to swords, only where her Lord's sword was meant as a personal weapon, she was meant to be on the frontline of conflicts against evil as often as possible.
Even now, she could feel the lesser copies of herself bound to her true self fighting their own battles across the cosmos. Not all of them against demons, but all against evil forces of one kind or another.
Billions upon billions of lesser "Al Azif" fighting countless battles, big and small, to defend towns, cities, kingdoms and worlds, each of them with the lives of innocents hanging in the balance.
Still, the greater "her" was currently fighting for the sake of these dragons, and she could see why her Lord liked them. Brave, steadfast against evil, they would make perfect soldiers when the war against the Abyss will start in full, as that outcome was destined to happen… sooner or later.
Al Azif frowned as she witnessed through her power the continuous fighting and death of the righteous against the wicked of this city. It would be so easy to stop holding back, to make full use of the power granted to her by her Lord and cast a spell that would cleanse this world of demons…
But she chose patience instead. The Abyss had to have a plan. They had to know the Dragons forces were winning. So then, why not cut their losses while they could?
No, the Abyss had to have a plan, and Al Azif would not show her hand before they did. Then, and only then, would she finally show the Abyss what it meant for her to be the Necronomicon.
"Al Azif."
She opened her eyes, letting a part of her focus on her current master while the rest kept fighting off the Abyss however she could.
"Master. You are meant to be resting right now." she remarked disapprovingly.
Neltharion smiled wryly at that, but she could see a part of him agreed. The dragon, currently in mortal form, looked exhausted. Days of constant stress and high-level fighting have taken their toll on him, and it showed. His skin was paler, his hair was greasy, he had quite obviously not taken a proper warm shower in a long time, and she knew he had neither eaten food or drink near enough to be healthy.
The harsh, dark circles underneath his eyes, currently showing both exhaustion and grim determination only added to the overall look of a man running himself ragged.
And that was with her casting a few spells to bend time to give him more hours than normal per day to relax and rest.
Unfortunately, her pig-headed master chose to use that time to read more reports and keep working more, instead.
If it kept going like that, she was going to seriously consider knocking him out and force him to take care of himself.
And she'd gladly involve his family to force him to do so, if necessary.
"I'm afraid that one of the Balors showed back up, ready for another round of fighting." he said with some wry amusement, and Al Azif groaned as she magically glanced across the city to glare at where the roaring inferno of Abyssal might taking the form of one of the deadliest demons of the Abyss was clear to her senses.
Then she looked back at Neltharion, her bright green eyes narrowed with displeasure.
"And why do you still look so exhausted? I gave you more time to rest!"
"I had reports to read first!" he defended himself pathetically.
"Enough reports to take the entire hours of Time I gave you?" she asked sarcastically. "On top of all the other reports you read the rest of the time?"
"... I also double-checked our battle plans." he admitted, though Al Azif knew that "double checking" was more like "thousand-checked" by this point.
"And?" she asked, knowing him well enough by now to be safe in her assumptions that he didn't end his work here.
"And the logistical situation." he said with a wince at how cold her green eyes were becoming… even as an angry fire grew within them at every word. "And the list of wounded… and dead… and-"
"Enough." she snapped, getting up with a growl. Even the great Neltharion, leader of the Black Dragonflight, flinched before the mixed assault of her cold voice and the look in her eyes watching him like he was scum of the earth. She created a lesser clone to take her place in the middle of the circle, before marching up to him to poke him in his armored chest. "We'll deal with this balor, and then so help me if you continue to prove foolish I will tie you up to your bed." she growled at him, his mouth dropping open at the threat.
"You-"
"I will do it, mark my words!" she snapped. "And I will even ask your consort to fuck you until you pass out for the next few hours if that's what it takes to make you rest!"
Neltharion's mouth moved soundlessly at the words, but Al Azif didn't care. He was her first master, chosen by her creator and lord, and she wasn't going to let him be an idiot any longer.
She put her hands on her hips, glared up at him, and dared him to try and contradict her.
"Now, are you ready to fight, or do you need to rest for now? I can fight off a Balor by myself, easily." she told him, before quickly adding when he opened his mouth "And don't try to say you're fine! I will hit you if you're that stupid!" she berated him.
Neltharion closed his mouth, stared at her, then sighed with a smile. "I can fight. If we're together and it's only a single Balor, it'll be fine."
She scowled, and focused, trying to see if he was actually strong enough for the coming fight.
After a moment, she, very begrudgingly, acknowledged he had enough strength left to deal with a Balor, as long as she was here to help.
"Fine! But you really need to take better care of yourself!" she told him bluntly.
He tried to speak and defend himself, but she was done playing nice. "Do you want your people to die?" she hissed, and he flinched at her words. "You're their leader. If you collapse, the defense of the entire city will be compromised! You cannot afford to think only about others, master, you need to keep in mind yourself as well!"
"Al…" he said softly, and she scowled at him darkly for a moment… before her expression softened greatly, turning almost gentle.
"I know that your recent near-corruption took a toll on you." she whispered, and he flinched harder than at any of her previous words. "I know that you're trying to dedicate yourself fully to your people to make up for that. That you're trying to go for an extreme of selflessness to make up for the selfish desires the Abyssal corruption tried to force you to act on. But extremes are exactly that, master. Extremes. They are very rarely something that should ever be followed."
She sighed, hesitating, before a gentle push from deep within her encouraged her to keep going.
She stepped forward, gently hugging him, Neltharion stiffening as she did.
"You're my first master." she said softly. "And you're a good man. Kind, yet fierce, dedicated to seeing his people happy. My Lord chose well in giving me to you for this war. I'm proud of serving by your side." She took a deep breath, blinking away the few tears her words brought to her eyes.
She was Al Azif, the legendary Necronomicon, she would not cry.
"But you have to learn your limits. My Lord might be able to bring you back if you died, but I… don't want to feel your death. We're connected, master. If you die… I'll feel it. And I… I don't want you to die, even if you can come back." she whispered.
Neltharion said nothing for a long moment, before his arms went around her and he hugged her firmly.
"Alright." he whispered. "I promise I'll take better care of myself."
"You swear it?"
"I swear it." he agreed, a note of amusement in his voice, even as his arms tightened around her smaller frame.
"Good."
She quickly stepped back, then around him, marching forward without giving him the time to see her face.
"Come on then, let's fight off that Balor, or even better, kill him!" she said with determination.
"Al."
She froze, the weight of Neltharion's voice making her pause.
A gentle smile spread on his lips, his eyes kind and warm.
"I'm proud of fighting by your side, too. Never doubt that."
Al Azif swallowed, quickly passing a hand over her eyes to remove whatever was making her eyes sting, before she grinned.
"Let's go, master. We shouldn't be wasting time."
He chuckled warmly, walking quickly to stand by her side.
"Agreed."
Side by side, Al Azif and her master marched forward, readying themselves for battle against a champion of the Abyss once more.
Heads held high and backs straight, they did so with a subtle smile on their lips.
Neltharion's eyes glanced at the city, his city, rage and sorrow fighting for dominance in his chest as he saw the many burning buildings, the streets covered in rubble, the sounds and sight of distant explosions, and the countless screams of people dying as every meter of ground was fought and died for by warriors of both sides of this war.
The yearslong campaign by the demons to weaken the Black Dragonflight had borne its unholy fruit, and his people, even with advance warnings, were dying in droves while trying to fight off their demonic invaders. Oh, they did not go gentle into that good night, killing demons and cultists with hateful glee and creating hills with their corpses, but it was unquestionable that the Black Dragonflight would need decades, most likely centuries to recover from the days of brutal fighting that had taken place.
The black dragons might be stronger individually than most demons, but the demons had numbers on their sides, and were also well-used to fighting his people. The result of that experience could easily be seen by just how many corpses of Black dragons filled his city by now.
He took some grim relief and satisfaction over the fact that there were far more demons than dragon corpses, but it was a cold comfort indeed.
And worst of all, if it hadn't been for literal divine intervention, he would have fallen to corruption along with his Dragonflight, becoming the instrument of his friends' destruction, rather than their protectors. The plans both the Abyss and Hell had for his friends and their families…
He shuddered, holding back the bile rising in his throat. It was no time to lost his cool, his people needed him.
"Are you ready?"
Neltharion glanced at the young woman by his side, her green eyes glowing with power as she stared at the burning city with determination. Al Azif had proven her worth time and time again, and he owed the Lord of the Eldritch immensely for lending her help to him and his people. Yet another debt to be repaid… But that was one debt he was more than happy to bear.
"I am." he replied firmly. She had casted yet another spell to push back his exhaustion, allowing him to think and move without his thoughts and body feeling sluggish. Her harsh words had been painful to hear, but he couldn't deny that she had been correct, he had been driving himself into the ground out of sheer bull-headed stubborn determination to make up for his prior weakness and failures.
Either way, there would be time to find a way to reward her for all her help later, once the war was won. He wasn't quite sure how to reward someone like her, as the physical embodiment of the infamous Necronomicon, but he'd have to think of something.
"Then let us go, master!" she grinned, that same fierce, fearless grin she always had when confronting evil, her green eyes always lightening up at the upcoming challenge, and he smiled fondly at her.
"Together, as always!"
She glowed, and a moment later he held up a magic staff in hand, having transformed herself to be his literal weapon to wield.
Without hesitation, he casted a spell creating a portal, rushing through it and appearing right where the Balor was.
The sounds of explosions, gunfire and screams reached his ears, a cacophony of sounds only surpassed by the vile laughter of the Balor as he casted a spell that sent one of his lesser dragons flying backward to crash against a burning house with a deep bellow of pain.
Neltharion wasted no time, casting a powerful blast of Holy Lightning that slammed into the demon's hastily-raised barrier.
"Raaaaaaaaaagh!"
This time, it was the Demon's turn to scream as the barrier shattered and the lightning hit him in the chest, sending him flying back into a massive pile of rubble that was all that was left of a hotel, his body smoking heavily.
A quick wave of Al Azif in staff form sent a shockwave of healing energy deliberately twisted to avoid working on demonic beings, immediately healing not only his lesser kin but also every mortal loyal to him in this district.
"You." The Balor, his body still smoking slightly, nonetheless showed the sheer toughness of his unholy kind by immediately rising back up with a cruel snarl on his face. "I will cut your head off and make a drinking cup out of your skull!"
"Their taunts really never change, do they?" sarcastically whispered Al Azif in his mind, before he felt her eager determination course through him. "Go, master, kill this Abyssal spawn!"
"Gladly!" he hissed, his golden eyes glowing as he slammed the staff in his hand on the ground, deadly earth spikes coming out at shocking speed to try and impale the Balor.
The Demon scoffed, waving a hand and unleashing spears of Darkness that intercepted the Earth Spikes, before a whip made of lightning appeared in his right hand, and he tried to strike him with it.
A quick spell sent him moving out of the way, the ground beneath his feet almost moving like water to carry him out of danger, before he raised his staff again.
"Yogfm'll' lloigazath!" he shouted, glowing stars appearing around him before rushing towards the Balor at blinding speed.
The demon growled, raising his free hand to cast several magic missiles that sought out and exploded against the Arcane Stars he had created.
The ensuing explosions shook the entire district, massive craters opening up from the concussive blasts, and lesser demons and mortals alike screamed as they lost their footing.
"You will fall, Neltharion, the Fool of Warden's Keep, and your wretched kind will fall into the Abyss with you!" roared the Balor, casting a new spell that took control of all the fires in the district and combined them into an eyes-wateringly bright spear of pure heat and fire leveled at him.
"Not if I make you choke on your own ambitions first, demon!" snarled Neltharion right back a second before the Balor made a throwing motion towards him and the spear blitzed a burning path towards him.
"Yar bug mgbugahagl!" he shouted, the bright spear freezing in mid-air before suddenly going right back towards the Balor.
The demon cursed, throwing himself off its path and causing the spear to slam into the rubble behind him, an explosion of heat and light sending him scrambling forward.
Neltharion jumped, turning into his dragon form and unleashing his dragon's breath right there against the Balor.
The foul Abyssal spawn screamed, but managed to get a barrier up in time, kneeling while throwing his full power into surviving the unleashed fury of the Lord of Warden's Keep.
The inferno of power lasted for a time, as Al Azif strengthened his magic, letting his breath become even more powerful, until suddenly he felt Al Azif's flash of concern, letting him back off right before a blast of demonic energy would have taken his head of, though it still burnt deep on the left side of his maw.
He roared, a pained sound as he staggered backward before returning to humanoid form, glaring up at the Balor standing up from behind his barrier.
The demon quite clearly had suffered even more than he had, as deep burns marked much of his body, and his groans of pain made it clear that whatever powerful blast of magic he had just sent, it did not come without cost.
"Master!" shouted Al Azif in his mind, voice wavy with concern, but Neltharion merely grinned, even if it sent jolts of agony up and down his face and neck.
"It's fine. You did good, Al." he reassured her, before sighing in relief as she channeled a healing spell, though he still winced as he felt his flesh knit itself back together.
The Balor obviously took this time to do the same, though both of their magic made the process of healing slower than normal.
"You will pay for this, Dragon Lord." grumbled darkly the Balor, the towering demon standing taller than any two mortals put together glaring at him with hateful, burning glowing eyes.
"Bold words when I can still smell your cooked flesh in the air." snarked Neltharion right back. Honestly, Al was a bad influence on him, he never was that sassy before meeting her.
"And I can smell your people's burning corpses!" spat the Balor right back, his partially burnt face twisting with a ugly grin at the words. "Struggle all you want, Dragon Lord, but we both know that many of your people are already dead! Why resist us, when all it brings you is the same outcome? This city will fall, and your people will be either enslaved or feasted upon! Your defiance means nothing, fool!"
"Your words ring hollow, foul creature." Neltharion sneered right back. "I know your kind! Submission will only bring suffering and death, all the same! You care nothing of honor, loyalty, or truth! All you desire is to kill and destroy! Only defiance can assure our survival from the likes of you, beasts!" he spat, his last word echoing unnaturally in the air.
The demon's eyes narrowed, uncertainty flashing in his expression for a second before being covered up with sneering condescension.
"So be it." growled the demon. "Defy us all you want, in the end, the only thing it will change is that you will die braver than most!"
With a snarl, the Balor summoned a great ax on fire, before charging right at him.
"Don't let that thing hit you, master!" shouted Al Azif, and Neltharion smiled grimly.
"I wasn't planning to." he sent back, before the staff in his hands glowed, and he found himself with a scimitar instead.
Rushing forward with a shout, both warriors met in a clash of steel and hate, teeth gritted as superhuman strength met and struggled against each other.
"Throdogor orr'eog!" shouted Al in his mind, and suddenly Neltharion grinned as he found himself gaining the upper hand in this struggle of strength.
With a fierce jerk forward, he forced the demon backwar, his eyes widening as Neltharion's scimitar cut the air and scored a deep gash on the Balor's chest.
The demon bellowed in pain, as the scimitar's magic cut deeper than mere physical flesh and blood, one of the demon's hands going over his wound with a snarl as the very essence of the demon began seeping out of him.
Neltharion didn't waste time, eagerly pressuring the demon, knowing that he was starting to gain the upper hand, the dragon fire and now the scimitar's power both taking their toll on the Balor.
A fact the demon was no less aware of, as he growled hateful at him while doing his best to fend off the vicious blows of the Neltharion's scimitar.
"What kind of weapon is that?!" he exclaimed.
"The kind that will end your life!" Neltharion shot back, his scimitar meeting the burning great ax in a flurry of sparks and shockwaves.
The Balor scowled at him, his eyes nonetheless showing newfound caution.
"I can feel the way it cuts through me down to my spirit… Moreover, even now I have to prevent the power lingering in the cut from draining my very essence to nothing, disintegrating me to less than dust…" The demon snarled, fear and greed in his eyes.
"I shall find out its secrets when I tear it out of your cold, dead hands!" he finally shouted, before a fiery aura enveloped him.
"Master, he's going all out!" warned Al Azif.
Space warped from the mere power casually released by the demon, broken corpses surrounding them catching fire suddenly from the mere existence of the overpowering demonic might now standing without holding anything back.
Buildings toppled to the ground, the very ground itself began melting, and the fires raging around them turned into Abyssal fire, their cursed nature clear to see from the way they began melting through things no normal fire should be able to burn.
Even the shadows began lengthening unnaturally, while unnatural, chaotic whispers echoed from around them as unholy, corruptive secrets teased the edge of Neltharion's mind, only kept firmly at bay by Al Azif's presence and careful vigilance.
The Balor was obviously done playing around, as with a wordless roar he charged forward, newfound strength and demonic power allowing to cross the distance in a blink of an eye and to slam his ax into Nelthariobn's scimitar with such strength that he was sent flying backward.
Neltharion barely had time to regain his balance before the Balor struck again, and again, and again, a berserker's rage fueling his blows as he turned into a storm of death and fury. Each blow could have opened massive canyons across the entire district they were in, and probably much beyond. It was only Neltharion's own draconic strength, boosted by Divine blessing, and further boosted by Al Azif's magic, that allowed him the strength to meet the blows with something resembling parity.
Neltharion's eyes narrowed, his mind focused almost entirely on fending off the horrifyingly powerful and quick blows of his enemy, shockwaves after shockwaves blooming from their weapons's point of contact. They crossed hundreds of meters in a mere second, near a hundred blows exchanged in that small moment of time, both warriors saying nothing as they both threw everything they had at each other.
Again and again, the demon's ax came a hairbreath away from cleaving him in half, the skill of a demonic warrior with millennia, if not millions of years worth of experience shining through as the Balor pressured Neltharion like he had rarely ever been. There was none of the cruel condescension in the demon's eyes, none of the previous willingness to banter, only pure, focused murderous fury shackled by eons of training and hard-won experience shining through.
Neltharion's mind was almost focused entirely on fending off the Balor but a small part of him was also waiting for a moment of opportunity, for when a window to strike back, even the smallest of openings would present itself.
He just needed-
There! He thought, his heart soaring as he saw the demon suddenly get distracted by something-
Only for the Balor to suddenly back off immediately, cursing while looking in the distance.
Neltharion frowned, letting go of the power of illusion from Al Azif he had intended to make use of. Still, what-
"Master, look!" suddenly shouted Al, and he stiffened then glanced towards where the demon was looking at-
Only for his heart to leap in joy and relief as a vast army of dragons, coloured red and Blue, appeared on the horizon, quickly making their way toward Warden's Keep.
"Damn it! Fine, Dragon Lord, I shall claim your skull another day! Rejoice from your meaningless victory for now!" spat the Balor, before he teleported away from the district entirely.
Neltharion's eyes narrowed. There was something-
"Didn't he sound… almost smug?" muttered Al with confusion.
"... Yes." he said slowly. "He was."
That was what he had noticed. The demon had tried to sound enraged, and while he was clearly angry from having their fight interrupted…
There had been cruel anticipation in his gaze when he had left.
Neltharion paused, then quickly glanced toward where his lesser dragon kin had been, the one wounded then healed at the start of the fight-
And found nothing.
"Where did he go?" he muttered.
Al stayed silent, before answering, her voice concerned.
"An entire squad of Babau demons showed up while we were fighting the Balor and got the better of him… but they didn't kill him. They captured and teleported him away instead."
Neltharion fell silent at that, before speaking again, the thought on both their minds.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
"Neltharion!"
The Lord of Warden's Keep barely had time to brace before Alexstrasza swept him up in a big hug, Malygos lingering behind even as he smiled at the sight.
The armies of the red and blue dragonflights had finally reached Warden's Keep, and the leaders of both Dragonflights had wasted little time heading straight to his palace to meet with him.
It did Neltharion immense good to see his friends strong and healthy, a far cry of what the Abyss and Hell had planned for him and those he cherished. He had been left with little time to worry while defending his home, but it had been a concern in the back of his mind, and to see them now, ready and able to fight by his side did more to banish his exhaustion than even the best of Al Azif's spells.
Though admittedly, seeing mass amounts of red and blue dragons join his forces in striking back against the forces of the Abyss also helped a great deal. With reinforcement on his side, he could now focus on going on the offensive, rather than focus everything on holding the line.
"How are you doing? We came as soon as we could!" Alexstrasza said quickly, pulling back but keeping her hands on his shoulders, looking him up and down as if trying to make sure he wasn't hiding any wound.
"And I thank you for that. Frankly, we can use all the back-up we can get." admitted Neltharion. "The fighting had been brutal here. The losses are…" he took a deep breath. "Heavy. It could have been worse, so much worse, but even so…" he trailed off, grimacing slightly, and both of his fellow leaders sent him sympathetic looks.
"I'm sorry." Alexstrasza said softly. "I dearly wanted to come to help, but I couldn't let the cultists in my city free to do Gods only know what."
"And my people had to deal with a mass attack of Shadows demons. We literally couldn't leave our capital until we broke their assault." Malygos said apologetically.
"It's fine." reassured Sintharia, his beloved consort looking at their old friends with both kindness and understanding. "You're here now. That's what matters."
"Agreed." he said, backing her up. He smiled at Alex and Malygos. "We held the line. Now… Now, we can focus on properly winning this war."
He shook his head. "What about Ysera and Nozdormu? Will they be able to make it?" he inquired.
Al Azif had been able to keep an eye on the other Dragonflights even while fighting in Warden's Keep, but it was never a bad idea to seek double confirmation.
"They are coming too." replied Malygos with satisfaction. "Ysera won her battle against the Nightmare Lord and his forces in the Dreamlands, and Nozdormu got his people back from the Abyss. Soon, the full might of the Dragonflights will be assembled at Warden's Keep, and we can stand together against the demons of the Abyss without fear!"
Neltharion pursed his lips, a worried frown on his face.
"As much as I appreciate your confidence, the demons have to know the same thing. For them to refuse to flee… They must have a plan."
Alexstrasza and Malygos shared a look, before they nodded at him.
"As the gods mentioned, there is the matter of the Abyssal Artifact the demons created specifically to strike against us. We have yet to ascertain its location, despite our best efforts. However, simple logic says that it should be here in the city, ready to be used for maximum effects against us all." Malygos explained grimly.
"That being said," Alexstrasza continued more cheerfully, "the artifact might not work as they planned, considering our divine blessing protecting us. So even if the demons have a final trump card, it might not work anywhere near as well as they hope."
"Curious. I can't find the artifact." mused Al Azif, frowning deeply. "If it is here, in Warden's Keep, I should be able to find it… and yet, I cannot."
He, his consort, and his friends all shared a lok, then glanced at Al Azif.
"You truly feel nothing?"
Al scowled, before shaking her head with a look of frustrated disgust.
"No. Which is concerning, because it would take immense magical power and skill to blind me like that."
"You have a theory?" asked Sinthara.
Al paused, then slowly nodded grimly.
"Queen Slann." she replied, the air turning cold at the mere utterance of the name. "If she personally hide the artifact from my view, then not even I can notice it… not until its power is called upon."
"So Warden's Keep is a trap." growled Neltharion, fists clenched in rage at the very thought of the demons turning his home into a trap against his friends and family.
Amexstrasza put a hand on his shoulder, expression kind but determined.
"A trap it might be, but we will not leave you alone, my friend." she said gently, but firmly. "And we are not without resources ourselves. We have our blessings, and Al Azif with us." she nodded at the young woman, who puffed up her chest and tried to look taller.
The dragons smothered smiles at the sight, before Alexstrasza kept going, looking at him straight in the eyes with bright, warm crimson eyes eerily reminiscent of Lady Oedon.
"As soon as our missing companions and their armies arrive, we will have the numbers required to push the demons out of this city… and out of our world entirely. Stand steadfast, my friends! Victory is soon at hands, and this battle is ours to win!" the dragon-queen said passionately, and they all smiled at the sheer determination visibly coursing through their friend.
"Very well, then. Please, follow me to the war room, it's time to prepare for the end of this war." Neltharion declared, and they all nodded, standing together as they made their way through his fortress-palace, thick, tall walls bristling with guns and artillery ready to slaughter any demons foolish enough to come close to their effective range, ensuring they would not be bothered by anything else than a full-scale offensive by Abyssal forces.
Malygos and Alexstrasza quickly glanced at Al Azif however, curiosity clear in their eyes, and the pink-haired girl raised an eyebrow at them in return.
"What?" she asked.
"Our apologies. We heard of you, but it's our first time meeting a sentient tome of knowledge… Especially one as legendary as you." Alexstrasza said smoothly.
Malygos however nodded eagerly, eyes bright with fascination. "I have read many magical books in my life, heard of even more, but I have never seen anything quite like you before." his eyes glowed bright with magic as he looked at her. "The raw magic that you casually release… the brightness of your soul… it is blinding, and yet I know for a fact that what little I see must be but a fraction of your entire self. I am aware that Lord Aeon is essentially without equal in the mystical arts, but it is one thing to know of it and another to see such unquestionable proof!" he said gleefully, almost bouncing in place from sheer joy and excitement. "Oooh, I have so many questions! What is it like to be a sentient tome of knowledge? How do you see the world around you? What do you believe in? I could spend a thousand years trying to answer every question I have and I'm certain I would just find even more!"
Al Azif blinked, and then grinned brightly, green eyes twinkling smugly.
"Of course I am great, I am the mythical Al Azif, the Necronomicon, greatest of all Eldritch Books of lore! Written by one of the greatest mortal loremasters to ever live, empowered by the most knowledgeable deity to ever exist! I am pleased to know that at least some people are capable of recognizing my greatness!"
With that said, she threw her long pink hair behind her with a casual wave of her hand, while tilting her face upwards with an expression of smug superiority.
Neltharion was in dire need of rest… but even he wasn't so exhausted as to miss the way she glanced up at him with a mix of hope and uncertainty, and he chuckled, reaching out with one hand and patting her head.
"Of course. Your help has been invaluable so far, Al Azif, and I am proud to have been chosen by your creator as your master, for however long you will choose to fight by my side." he told her with a warm smile.
Every dragon promptly smiled at the sight of Al Azif blushing and leaning against his hand, looking deeply satisfied and happy, even as she tried and failed miserably to hide that fact.
"Well, good! I've been working non-stop to fight off the demons and their magic, so it's good to know you recognize how important I am!" she declared, her nose up in the air, and Neltharion wasn't the only one to chuckle at her antics.
"Of course. I trust you to watch over myself and my people in the upcoming battle. If the demons make use of the artifact, you'll be one of our greatest defenses against it. Can I count on you to do everything you can to protect us all?" he said gently.
"Naturally. These arrogant demons won't even know what hit them!" she said brightly.
"Good. Then I place our lives in your capable hands, Al Azif. I know that you will be up to the task." he told her without hesitation, making the young woman lok away with a happy smile.
Malygos, Alexstrasza and Sintharia exchanged an amused, warm look, before turning more serious when the war room came into sight.
Going through the (many, both magical and technological) security checkpoints, they finally entered the room Quickly making their way to the self-updating map, Neltharion's eyes brightened with a mix of relief, joy and deep satisfaction as allied symbols joined with together against hostile ones, the large amount of red on the map suddenly recoiling as the effect of the reinforcement made itself clear.
"Enemy forces retreating from sectors C-20 to C-25!"
"Enemy forces taking heavy casualties at sector E-10! Breakthrough expected in T-15 minutes!"
"Our mages are falling back and letting the Blue Dragonflight take over their duties while they focus on recovering from the non-stop battles! Give them a day, a few hours at minimum, and they will be able to push back against enemy mages!"
"We received logistical support from the red and blue dragonflights! We'll have to take stocks, but we should be able to return to more intense artillery bombardment as soon as our remaining artillery batteries get the shells they need!"
"Same with medical supplies and numbers of healers available! We should be able to get a greater portion of our people back in fighting shape soon now that we have the supplies and healers to spare!"
"Enemy reinforcement at sectors B-17 to 30! Rerouting red and blue dragonflights forces to support local forces!"
"The enemy's lines are buckling in sector A 5 to 11! We might be able to push them out of those sectors entirely!"
"Negative, I've got reports of more demonic reinforcement coming to those sectors!"
"What about the C-sectors?" Neltharion inquired.
"No massive reinforcement detected as of yet!" one of his subordinates shouted back at his question, eyes fixed on his console.
Malygos' eyes narrowed as he took the entire battlefield.
"The demons are not reinforcing their lines as much as I would have thought."
Alexstrasza scowled slightly. "They are keeping reserves fresh for when they'll spring their trump card."
Neltharion nodded. "That makes sense. Of course, it means it's up to us to either push them out of as many of the city's districts first, or force them to send reinforcements now instead of later to hold the line. Both are ultimately good for us."
"Very well then. There is only one question left to ask, then." declared Alexstrasza, before she smiled with sharp fangs clear to see. "Where do you want us-" she waved at herself and Malygos "-to cause massive chaos amongst the demons?"
Neltharion stared at her… and then he smiled.
"So, they are coming. Good." growled Raachaak, Balor of the Abyss and general of its armies, as he stared at the magical map before him and the others assembled in the hall of the building serving as their current headquarters.
Another Balor grunted, scowling deeply.
"Bah. We could have broken through the Black Dragonflight's lines eventually if we had more time. That fool Neltharion might have become more powerful thanks to that little whore the mortal upstart fucking the Eldritch Queen created, but even she cannot stop the inevitable."
"Yes, because your and your subordinates' attempts at breaking through the defenses of his palace have accomplished much, have they Baalbisan?" sneered a third Balor, before breaking into mocking laughter. "Oh wait, that's right! You not only accomplished nothing, but a large number of your mages died every time she fought back. At this rate you'll be left with nothing but harsh words and hot air to throw at her!"
"Silence, Badrazel!" hissed Baalbisan. "Your pitiful attempts at slaying Neltharion achieved nothing! The only reason you are even standing here is because you ended up fleeing for your life you cowardly weakling!"
"Repeat those words I dare you!" roared Badrazel, his hand going to his flaming whip instantly, a look of murderous rage on his face.
"I have nothing to fear from you, you cowardly weakling!" roared Baalbisan right back, hands going to his own weapon with a look of cruel hatred.
"Enough."
The room shook, the entire building violently shuddering from the sheer power in Raachaak's voice, his fiery gaze pinning both belligerent Balor in place. Lesser demons and mortals around the room crashed on the ground moaning and panting in pain, the temperature in the entire city district they were in noticeably rising from the mere shadow of his wrath. The silence that followed lasted for several seconds, before he spoke again, voice soft yet colder than the void of space.
"Our enemies are coming. We have one last chance to avert a complete disaster, one that we cannot afford to endure. Every other dragonflights besides the Black had fought off our forces. Our plans lie in near ruins, the Abyss itself has been invaded, successfully I might add, and Demon Lords have been slain."
His eyes narrowed, a titanic ocean of rage and cruelty fixing its unholy might upon the fools before him, and both Balors almost showed weakness by flinching under the sheer terrifying weight of that gaze alone.
"Legions unlike anything the Abyss has ever seen are at our borders. The Heavenly Forces have never been more united, and they have powerful allies ready to support them on top of that. The Eldritch Pantheon itself is marshaling for war, same with the Eldritch Kingdom. And all of that not long after the crushing blow that was the Fifth Crusade and the closing of the Starwound. The Abyss has not been at risk like this in all of its existence, and we are the ones right at the frontline of this historical event. By our actions, we shall either sign the doom of the Abyss… or claim renown unlike any we could have either dreamt of by winning a war against the might of the new King of the Eldritch."
Raachaak growled.
"We are losing. Every plot we had was countered. Every asset we deployed was dealt with in one way or another. The forces of Hell have already retreated, certain by now of our complete inability to succeed, and unwilling to challenge the might of a God-King, one ruthless and cunning enough to shake all of Hell with but a few words. We are losing… But we have not lost yet. And that is enough."
His eyes flickered to the side, where an artifact of immense power was kept tightly bound and hidden until the right time to call upon it came. The Dragon Soul artifact, though it would be more accurate to call it the Dragon Souls, had been devised and created by Queen Slann herself as the greatest trump card against the Dragons of Glyu-Uno. Created by shackling, tormenting and breaking the souls of countless Dragons from the different Dragonflights, gathered over the years and the last demonic incursion upon this world, it was a weapon capable of potentially making every dragonflights and their leaders bow before the might of the Abyss.
Or at least, it was intended as such. Then the Eldritch King, forever cursed be his name, proceeded to fuck over those plans by cleansing Neltharion of Abyssal corruption, and ensuring the Black Dragonflight would not easily fall to the Abyss, as planned.
Everything after that was just bad news after bad news. Without a fallen Neltharion, the army of Shadow demons they used against the Blue Dragonflight could not win. With Eldritch support, the Nightmare Lord of the Dreamlands could not corrupt Ysera and died accomplishing nothing. With advance warnings, Alexstrasza did not get captured. And on top of that, the damn Bronze Dragonflight raided the Abyss itself, rescued their captured children and slew not one but two Demon Lords!
It was insults after insults, crushing defeat after crushing defeat, and all of that without the Eldritch King even taking the battlefield!
Worse, the sheer implication of his cunning and sheer competence, on top of his raw power demonstrated by his victory over Abaddon, had shaken the status quo of Creation. Where once the Abyss was seen with fear and spoken of with horror, now they were nothing but puppets, their strings held by the Eldritch King, and everyone was growing increasingly certain that the Abyss would die, sooner or later, crushed underfoot by the divine boot of the newly arisen cosmic Tyrant.
And now, their one and only hope was the artifact created by Queen Slann… which might or might not work. Nobody was stupid enough to question her power, but everyone was smart enough to recognize the obvious: if the Eldritch King had so perfectly cornered them to this point, why shouldn't he be able to turn their last hope to ashes as well?
Who, truly, was rushing into a trap? The dragons… or the demons?
It was not a pleasant thought, but it was one that must be had, all the same.
Well, Raachaak had it. He was starting to wonder if the imbeciles he was forced to work with had enough brains to even see the obvious at this point.
Baalbisan's comment about being able to break the Black Dragonflight's lines weren't completely stupid, but it was a close thing. Yes, they had them on the ropes. Yes, their enemies had taken severe losses. Yes, they were fighting straight inside their city, making things so much worse morale wise for their foes.
And yet, the Abyssal forces were hardly winning quickly. Their own losses were horrendous, and no plans they previously had, NOT A SINGLE ONE, had accounted for a possible complete lack of reinforcement from the Abyss. The Eldritch Tyrant had strangled them perfectly by ensuring no Abyssal support could reach this world, and there was nothing they could do about it. Thankfully they had prepared entire armies for when the time comes… but with the benefits of hindsight?
It was absolutely obvious from the start that this campaign was nearly doomed from the moment they were cut off from the Abyss. Quite bluntly speaking, an army without strong logistical lines was an army doomed to die… and that is exactly what the Eldritch King had done to them all.
They had no reinforcement. No more weapons, medecine, or any kind of resources beyond what they could get from this world.
All of their plans had involved receiving support, in reinforcement and logistics, from the Abyss. Without it? All of their preparations had gained them time, and a relatively decent chance of victory…
If the Eldritch hadn't been there, supporting the Dragons in a way the Abyss could not do for itself.
Leeser Eldritch Gods were still Eldritch Gods. So what if they weren't Outer Gods? Even Elder Gods could get into a good brawl with most Demon Lords and have decent chances of winning.
Demon Lords were powerful, but they weren't equal. Some were more powerful than others. Moreover, even Demon Lords, for all their powers, were not true Gods.
The Fifth Crusade in Golarion made that clear, with both Baphomet and Deskari facing True Death at the hands of Heroes.Fate had its rules, and a strong or cunning enough party of mortals could slay even powerful Demon Lords in the right circumstances. There were limitations, Laws, and more than allowed mortals to always have a chance of victory, even against far more powerful beings than they were.
A fact that was ruthlessly exploited in this particular campaign. The blessing of the Eldritch King had allowed anyone wearing his symbol and not being Evil to stand toe-to-toe with even Balors.
There was a reason that there were three Balors in the room, and not four as it was originally true at the start of this war.
Having the fourth of their numbers being killed by a mere mortal miner with a shovel of all things when the man had been protecting his daughter and somehow successfully bashed te Balor's skull in with unnatural ease had been a very, very nasty surprise for all of them.
Needless to say, neither he nor the other Balors had been stupid enough to fight near where the miners had been located after that. There was being unlucky, and then there was rushing to one's doom like an imbecile.
And it wasn't the only incident like that. The more time went by, the more symbols of the Eldritch King were created and distributed to the forces of the Black Dragonflight, with devastating consequences.
At least the damn things didn't make the mortals stronger than the demons, but even achieving parity in strength, toughness and speed was bad enough!
The only advantage the demons had was in equipment and training. And even then, the first was debatable because, again, no logistical lines back to the Abyss!
In short, this entire campaign had been a doomed mess from the start, and now they were all stuck between the incoming armies of vengeful dragons and their mortal followers, and the wrath of the Queen of the Abyss.
Raachaak sent another glance at the Balors before him, before he shook his head.
"Enough. Go to your assigned posts. You know the plan, and now that the leaders of the Dragonflights are coming, our one chance at victory is about to appear. We must not make a single mistake, or we are all doomed. Now go! All of you! I tire of you fools wasting my time!"
The Balors, lesser demons and mortals fled quickly from the room, unwilling to face his wrath, and in less than a minute he was left alone.
Waiting for a moment, he quickly began casting powerful spells to make sure that no hidden stragglers were left, before he sealed the room completely.
With that done, he straightened, then went to a hide alcove to pick up the hidden artifact within it.
Staring at it for a second, he hesitated, knowing that to do what he was about to do could very well bring his doom…
Then he crushed his doubts, and activated it. The fools he had serving him might believe victory to still be possible, but he was in charge for a reason. And he knew a losing war when it was staring him in the face.
No, if he wanted to survive what was to come, then he had to make this call.
A moment later, and the holographic representation of his fellow conspirators appeared.
"Must we take from this call that the situation is unfolding as we feared it would?" came the cold voice of the Dark God of the Abyss Camazotz, the Bat God.
"Indeed." he agreed grimly. "The Eldritch King has played his cards perfectly. None of the others thought of the implication of the existence, and presence, of Al Azif, but it is obvious to me: The Eldritch King knows of the Artifact, and had planned accordingly. I refuse to believe that it is mere coincidence that he created something like it and gave it to Neltharion when he did."
"And even if our beloved Queen gives all remaining demons upon this world a power boost in the final battle, it will not be enough." hissed Gyronna, Goddess of Hags, her words coming down like a blade casting judgment on their ruler.
"Most likely." agreed Ghlauder, demi-god of diseases, parasites and insects, his voice buzzing like an enormous mosquito.
"So. Are we all in agreement, then?" came the unholy voice of Lamashtu, her voice alone causing them all a surge of lust and a strong desire to rape, violate and impregnate in order to create and unleash monsters upon the world… all worlds.
"I say Aye. Our dear Queen has had her time. But war is on the horizon, and new… leadership will be needed in the coming years." growled Camazotz.
"I say Aye." Hissed Gyronna. "Our dear Queen has always loved to take on the appearance of a beautiful woman… Vain bitch. I will enjoy feeding her womb to rats."
"You will not." thundered Lamashtu. "I will claim that part of her. At most, I might let you devour one of her breasts." the goddess snorted. "Maybe. It's hardly like you do anything with yours, anyway."
A hateful hiss came from Gyronna, the goddess looking ready to leap at Lamashtu's image in rage. "Come say that to my face. I dare you."
The Goddess of Beasts sneered. "I don't see why not. Maybe one of my lesser children will enjoy putting that wretched mouth of your to good use-"
"Enough." coldly declared Camazotz. "We are plotting insurrection. Keep your hatred in check until after we tear the Queen to bloody chunks of meat and feast upon them. Lamashtu, Aye or nay?" he demanded.
Lamashtu sneered at him next, but answered all the same. "Aye. The weak die and the strong feast upon their corpses. That is the way of things."
"Ghlauder?" questioned Camazotz next.
"Aye. I will enjoy her blood!" he hissed in reply.
"And what of you, Demon Lords?" he asked next, and a chorus of voices answered in the affirmative next. As they were only demon lords, and not gods, they did not have visual avatars in this meeting, but their voices were heard all the same.
Raachaak let out a breath. That was it, then. Over 35% of the Demon Lords of the Abyss and every lesser God of it have declared war against their God-Queen.
An act previously thought unthinkable, now actually made reality, all because of the newly risen Eldritch Tyrant.
Raachaak had no idea if they were playing in his hands, but either way what was done was done.
Of course, this decision was contingent on the Eldritch King not simply going to war against the Abyss. Spies from the Midnight Isles have told them that he was planning on using his victory to more easily seal the Abyss for ten thousand years while weakening Queen Slann immensely, thus giving any attempted rebellion a chance of victory, but if they were wrong, they would all have far bigger problems than their Queen.
Well, one way or another, only time would tell, now. The only thing he still had to do was use the Artifact, see if it works, and then make sure to save himself when things inevitably go very, very wrong.
Honestly, you'd think his fellow Balors had basic pattern recognition, but quite obviously not if they still thought they could somehow win this!
A.N: Alright! Here is the next chapter in which we continue the events of Love Azathoth!
The end of the war is all but here, and things are ready to come to a climactic finale!
I thus wanted to show a bit more of Al Azif and Neltharion's growing bond, as well as to show that Al is a bit different from canon Deus ex Machina: Demonbane. Being created by Aeon means she's a lot more perceptive, and a lot more capable of understanding herself and others… as well as act on that understanding.
Canonically, it took until the MC of that game for her to understand that the people who she works with genuinely choose to fight with her, and do not regret it. Here, she understands emotions a bit better, allowing for a better foundation for Al Azif being more than a mere ally of convenience with others. She understands friendship, both towards others and towards herself, and recognizes that Neltharion has come to care for her. Which… is a massive step up from her canon self.
Also, finally a demon p.o.v! It's honestly one of the rare "villain" povs I've written in this story, so I'm curious if you guys liked it. I wanted to set up the upcoming Abyssal civil war though, and while it's not going to be the focus of this story Arc, it will definitely be raging in the background for a long time.
Still, with all that being said, I hope you all enjoyed this update! Next time, the final battle of the Dragon War!