Demons, Dragons, and Dark Knights
The electrical hum and rhythmic beeps of machines was like music to Franmalth's ears as he worked furiously away, tapping commands and flipping switches and levers on his console. He kept a close eye on the numbers and graphs flashing across each of the bright screens before him, his hands moving seemingly on their own while his brain processed every bit of new information as fast as they were generated.
Ever since news of Keyes's defeat a week ago, Franmalth had holed himself up in the Monitor Room to avoid witnessing Mard Geer's angry outbursts. It was never a pretty sight and the idea to send Keyes and Silver to infiltrate the Great Evil's hideout was Franmalth's to begin with.
It was supposed to be a perfect plan! Franmalth had even taken Keyes's and Silver's unique abilities into consideration so how could they have failed? Would have saved Tartaros a lot of trouble if they had succeeded...
Franmalth hadn't seen the state of Keyes's Book himself, but Kyoka had mentioned it was nothing more than a pile of ash. No book meant a permanent death for an Etherious; the soul completely destroyed resulting in zero chance of resurrection in Hell's Core.
A sad, pitiful fate – especially for a powerful demon created by the one and only Lord Zeref. The Etherious were supposed to be the strongest beings; superior to all other lifeforms in Earthland and immortal to boot.
But after losing Keyes, it turned out the Etherious weren't completely immortal after all...
With Keyes gone, so, too, was his Necromancer Curse, reverting Silver and a sixth of Tartaros's army back into useless corpses, wasting some perfectly good souls.
Two Demon Gates lost in one mission; it was a heavy blow to Tartaros, fueling the entire guild with utmost anger. The Great Evil and his pet dragons were not to be underestimated.
Everyone had doubled their efforts in preparing for an all-out war since, their goal now changed to fully eliminating the evil entity instead of trying to obtain its power as theirs. Erase it from the world out of sheer vengeance.
While the rest of his comrades went over strategies and whatnot, Franmalth worked on perfecting Cube's main defences. The Monitor Room was his domain of Tartaros Castle. All the advanced technology and systems were built by his hands using centuries worth of knowledge gained from the countless souls of intelligent life he had absorbed.
Humans weren't so useless after all when it came to developing weapons with practically anything to suit their destructive needs.
Franmalth skimmed the output of his latest diagnostic, hoping to catch every error before it was time. When nothing of significance popped up, his lips broadened into a gleeful grin. "It's perfect!" he cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He couldn't help but gloat even though there was no one else in the room. "Let's see a dragon survive this much firepower! There won't be anything left of this country! Only a giant hole on the map!"
He was wildly exaggerating, of course. Due to the incompetence of the smaller Dark Guilds under their command, he was short on materials to create a weapon equal in power to Etherion, one of the supposedly secret weapons of the detestable Magic Council in Fiore. The cannon he had managed to build was about a third as strong and had enough Lacrima magic for just one shot. However, the range and magnitude of the blast should still be enough to wipe out a few dragons and the entire city where the accursed Great Evil resided.
Bouncing in place, Franmalth was giddy with excitement. He couldn't wait to see how much damage he could do with his precious cannon!
As if sensing his joyous energy, Mard Geer's face suddenly took over Franmalth's main monitor, making the yellow demon jump in alarm with a little shriek.
The enlarged image of His Highness was wearing the same scowl as the night of Keyes's and Silver's deaths. Sat upon his throne, he was soundly tapping a finger against something out of view as he stared down at Franmalth impatiently.
"Is it done?" Mard Geer demanded.
Franmalth's grin returned as he rubbed his hands eagerly. "Yes, sire! I've just completed it! When–"
"Excellent," Mard Geer sharply cut in, his lips curling into a wicked smile, "Have it ready to fire immediately. We are descending upon the city."
Franmalth gasped. "We're already there?! Of course! Of course!"
He jumped straight to pushing buttons and flipping levers, switching some of the monitors to the live feeds of their Security Lacrima while Mard Geer's screen blinked out. All Franmalth got were images of near-complete darkness as Cube slowly dropped through the black, turbulent, storm clouds that cursed the fallen capital of Seven. Brief flashes of lightning blinded the screens every so often, harmlessly striking the surface of Cube.
A quick glance at the time blinking in the corner of a screen told Franmalth it was almost dawn. Aside from the lightning, there wasn't going to be much light to work with for a little while, but the same could be said for their enemies. If they were lucky, Tartaros could take them all out with a surprise attack!
While Franmalth was busy preparing his cannon, a few of his fellow Demon Gates decided to file into the Monitor Room to watch the events unfold.
Kyoka, Seilah, and Torafuzar crowded around, eyeing the monitors.
"This cannon of yours better work," said Kyoka, leaning forward and resting one of her large hands on the edge of the main console. "I hate to soil my claws against whatever filth lies below."
"Eh! Don't touch anything!" Franmalth screeched, frantically shooing her back. He got an angry hiss and an icy glare in return.
Fuming, Kyoka stepped away without argument and crossed her arms.
Satisfied, Franmalth went back to his work, rapidly tapping buttons and keys. He had a huge grin when he said, "With this cannon, we won't even need to leave the castle! The Tartaros Death Ray! That's what I'll call it! It has the power to make a very, very big hole in the ground. That city will be nothing but dust!"
"Your Death Ray isn't the only thing capable of blasting big holes," said Seilah nonchalantly; "Do you not recall that massive crater we came across? A whole mountain range was completely destroyed, as you've said. Can your weapon compete against that?"
Franmalth paused for a moment, one hand stroking the bottom of his chin. "Can't really say when we have no idea what happened back there. But I will assume yes! If we catch them unawares! If not, then..." he turned around and waved a finger at the three who decided to join him, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, "blame yourselves for failing to provide all the materials I needed to make a stronger weapon! If I had everything you promised me, I could have created my own Etherion! Half of this country would be gone! Not just a few dragons and an evil demon!"
Kyoka snarled, Seilah half smirked, and Torafuzar grunted in annoyance.
The three of them, alongside Ezel, were the overseers of several Dark Guilds scattered across Fiore. Thus, they were responsible for gathering resources for Tartaros's ambitious plan. Succubus Eye, the strongest guild under Kyoka's reign, had supposedly collected close to a thousand pieces of raw Lacrima and enchanted metals and gems. However, when the shipment was due over a month ago, Kyoka had suddenly lost contact with the Guild Master.
But it wasn't just Succubus Eye that disappeared, other Dark Guilds had been vanishing as well, resulting in a shortage of forces and materials.
Seilah brought a hand to her mouth, her thin lips curling into a teasing smile. "Now, now, our little servants tried their best."
"The ones to blame," Torafuzar muttered in a deep growl whilst holding up a clenched fist, "are the Light Guilds and the Magic Council. They've been active as of late, purposely seeking out Dark Guilds. Likely believing the guilds are associated with the attack on Crocus."
"We should have annihilated the Magic Council like we had originally planned," Kyoka grumbled, glaring off to the side, "then we wouldn't have to deal with this... uncertainty."
"We all know which is the greater threat," Seilah pointed out. Her expression hardened into a cold stare when she looked at one of the screens showing the dark, stormy sky outside. Franmalth turned back around to resume where he left off as she continued; "I support His Highness in shifting our priorities to this Great Evil. Any more delay and there may be another instance where we lose ourselves to its cursed power."
It happened twice now, where every demon and Etherious were suddenly thrown into an uncontrollable rage by the Great Evil's malevolence. The first and worst incident was on the Night of the Cursed Eclipse because it lasted for nearly an hour. Invoked into their true forms, each berserk, blood-lusted demon wreaked havoc wherever they happened to be at the time, leaving only death and destruction in their wake.
Even Silver was not spared from the chaos, his mind consumed by the darkness of his Devil Slaying powers. He ended up freezing an entire floor of Tartaros Castle, accidentally trapping and killing a good number of unlucky minions with his ice.
When the madness was finally over, Franmalth was devastated to find his Monitor Room completely trashed, the deed done by his own hands. It took months to replace and restore his equipment and systems, so he was more than relieved when the second incident was only less than a minute, resulting in minimal damage that could easily be fixed.
Fortunately, with new upgrades to his setup, Franmalth was able to work faster and more efficiently, expanding Cube's technological aspects. Images coming from the Security Lacrima had never been clearer, perfectly displaying details at a great distance on his monitors. Right now, they showed the dark and gloomy landscape of the world below just as Cube broke through the clouds.
"Look, Nuseptima," said Torafuzar, pointing at the middle screen.
Franmalth flipped a couple switches to enlarge the image across multiple screens to get a closer look while maintaining the bottom row for his Death Ray status and controls. It was faint, but the silhouette of the mountain and the enormous capital of Seven was visible tens of miles ahead. Far, but not too far for Franmalth's precious cannon.
With another flick of a switch, Franmalth changed one of the corner screens to check on his beautiful, mighty weapon. The Tartaros Death Ray was a massive, five-hundred foot long, single-barrelled cannon made of shiny black metal and connected with hundreds of cables and pipes. Housed within its huge, cylindrical chamber was a gigantic Lacrima that had been formed from merging thousands of smaller ones together. It was mounted on the bottom of Cube so it could point in any direction beneath them.
The cannon barrel was rapidly pulsing with white light, signifying the weapon was nearing maximum charge. Franmalth could feel the surge of magic and hear the loud hum of machinery as his beloved weapon was about ready to unleash its wrath on their unsuspecting enemies.
"And look there! A dragon," Kyoka snarled, pointing at a huge shadow soaring above the city mountaintop. "That must be the largest one. Where are the rest?"
"Who cares?" said Franmalth, happily tapping away at his console; "They'll be caught in the blast zone! There's going to be nothing left for miles around the city! Gyahahaha!" He was giddy from all the magical energy in the air, feeling rather intoxicated by it.
He was moments away from firing his Death Ray! Running simulations was not as satisfying as seeing the real damage. If the cannon could completely erase the capital in one shot, then Tartaros would be unstoppable! Fiore's Magic Council would be their next target and wiping them out would be easy!
Mard Geer's impatient face took over the other top corner monitor, cutting into Franmalth's world-conquering thoughts. "What is the delay?" the king demanded. "Fire the cannon before we're discovered!"
Franmalth stiffened from Mard Geer's tone, but didn't lose his place. "Yes, sire! Just a few more seconds to reach maximum power!" He double-checked his readings. It was all going smoothly, no errors in the systems or the mechanisms. Everything was favourable. There was a series of beeps when his cannon was finally at one-hundred percent. Franmalth's mouth spread into a broad, wicked grin. "The Tartaros Death Ray has reached full power! This is it! Brace yourselves! Firing at the city in three, two, one... Total incineration!"
Franmalth slammed his palm on the big red button on his main console.
The castle jolted and gears and mechanical parts whirred, hissed, and rumbled.
Franmalth threw his hands in the air and cheered as he watched his Death Ray fire a concentrated blast of blinding white energy with a resounding boom. Everyone in the room was nearly thrown off their feet from the violent recoil that shook the entire floating island. It was so violent in fact, that Franmalth noticed pieces of the cannon break off, much to his horror.
A miscalculation on his part, but nothing he couldn't fix later. He pushed aside that concern so he could enjoy the historical moment unfolding before his eye. Anticipating to see Nuseptima to go out in a bright, dazzling glory, he broke into hysterical laughter, only to choke in surprise when the cannon beam exploded prematurely before it was even close to striking the capital.
"Wait, what?!" he cried, holding the sides of his helm, his joy snuffed out like a candle.
He couldn't tell what went wrong. The explosion of pure magical energy was the largest and brightest thing he had ever seen, overloading the Security Lacrima. All visual screens showed only white, brightening the dark Monitor Room. A second later, Cube was hit by a powerful shockwave, sending a stronger tremor that successfully knocked Franmalth to the floor.
"What do you mean by 'what'? That should've worked, didn't it?!" exclaimed Kyoka. She was the only one still standing, having sunk her claws into a nearby console to stay upright. Electrical sparks crackled from the damaged panels and cabling, harmlessly dancing across her armoured skin.
Before Franmalth had a chance to yell at Kyoka, Mard Geer was next to demand, his voice like thunder; "What did not work? Explain, Franmalth!" His very angry face took up the entire monitor he occupied because he was leaning forward on his throne.
"I-It exploded too early, sire!" answered Franmalth, starting to panic. He quickly looked over the numbers and confirmed he was right; the ray blew up halfway from reaching its calculated target. The reason why became clear when the world outside was no longer overwhelmed by light.
The blast had decimated both heaven and earth, eliminating the stormy clouds to reveal a twilight sky of early dawn and a huge crater in the middle between Cube and Nuseptima. The earth was bare and smouldering around the huge hole, everything stripped away from the heat and force of the incredible explosion and ensuing shockwave. The capital and mountains behind it, however, remained intact because hovering before the border of the city limits was not one, but...
"Four... five... six?! There are six dragons?!" Franmalth shrieked, aghast. It was double the number they were expecting. Were Keyes and Silver caught off guard and killed by these dragons? Franmalth transferred the live feed to Mard Geer so the king could see it himself.
Franmalth knew dragons were fearsome beasts, but how could a measly six counter the awesome power of his Death Ray? Five of them were so much smaller and probably weaker than the giant one too!
There was no time to ponder that question.
"They're advancing!" shouted Torafuzar.
All six dragons were coming in fast with the largest in the lead. At the speed they were flying, Franmalth roughly estimated it would take at least two minutes before they would reach Cube.
Mard Geer was back on the screen. "What are you doing, Franmalth?! Fire the cannon and kill them!"
"I-I can't, sire!" the yellow demon regretted to say, shrinking under His Highness's glare. "The Death Ray was damaged from the recoil and the Lacrima core is spent! There's no magic left! B-But I have something else I've been working on that'll help us! The Tartaros Invincible Shield! We'll be protected from any onslaught!" The ultimate offense also needed an ultimate defense after all.
Franmalth jumped straight to work right away, his hands rapidly moving and stretching across the consoles. Without missing a beat, he bellowed at Kyoka, "Get your damn claws out of my machine already!"
She flinched at his outburst and gave a disgruntled look as if she was insulted. Snarling, she proceeded to tear out pieces of metal and wiring along with her claws just to spite him for his attitude.
"Hey! Why'd you do that?!" Franmalth shrieked, needing to pause to get a closer look at the damage she did. He had to make sure nothing important linked to his Invincible Shield was broken or else it couldn't be used at its full potential. "If you messed anything up, it'll be your fault I can't get our defenses up!"
"It's already your fault that your damn cannon failed!" she retorted with a sharp hiss.
"It didn't fail, it–"
Torafuzar interrupted by stepping between them. He gave Franmalth a stern glower. "There's no time to argue! Focus on getting that shield ready!"
Franmalth huffed and grumbled under his breath. Wiggling his flexible fingers, he went back to pushing buttons, flipping levers, and turning dials in rapid succession, switching the main control display from his Death Ray to his Invincible Shield.
Machinery and gears separate from the cannon began to roar to life right under their feet. Within the heart of Cube, an enormous generator had been built and crammed with special Barrier Lacrima that had been collected over the past year. Another surge in intoxicating magic could be felt as the castle started to hum and vibrate.
"The dragons have split up," said Seilah over the growing noise. She remained surprisingly calm despite the threat coming their way.
"Ha! Doesn't matter which direction they come from, the Invincible Shield will stop any attack!" Franmalth couldn't help but boast, his confidence renewed by his own words.
He took a glance at the outside view and gasped at the sight of storm clouds quickly covering every inch of sky. They twisted like a cyclone with deadly lightning weaving throughout. A mix of snow and rain began to blow, making the twisters visible from each flap of the giant dragon's wings. To top it all off, thunder roared and rumbled over the whir of machinery like the clashing of an angry drum.
Cube was large and heavy enough to withstand all forms of bad weather so Franmalth wasn't too concerned about the storm. It was the dragons he should be worried about. The giant one continued to approach head-on. Meanwhile, the five smaller beasts that trailed behind had chosen to fly off to the sides, likely to avoid the brunt of the storm.
All eyes were on Franmalth. He would be drenched with nervous sweat if he had disgusting sweat glands like a human. Mard Geer's demands to hurry up certainly wasn't helping. "The Shield is almost at maximum defensive power, sire! Just half a minute more!" he tried to reason. His machines couldn't run and process any faster.
Torafuzar made a gruff noise. "You better be right! Look, the large one has stopped!"
Everyone's attention flew back to the main monitors, finding the giant beast hovering in place about two miles away, held aloft by winds of its own creation. Its long, slender body was upright and its mouth was agape, its throat glowing with yellow energy that dangerously sparked with the same lightning as the sky.
Franmalth stiffened. He could feel the tingling of electricity as the light of the dragon's mouth steadily grew more intense. "What is it doing?!"
"Can you not tell? It's attacking!" Torafuzar growled.
"It is?! From that far away?!"
"Well, Cube isn't that hard to miss considering its size," Seilah had to say.
There was a short, haughty laugh coming from Mard Geer. "That parasite thinks he can bring down Cube with his pet dragons? We will prove that fool wrong! Shield, Franmalth!"
Right at that moment, Franmalth heard his console beep and saw the wonderful indicator light blinking, signifying his Invincible Shield was warmed up and ready to activate. "Yes, sire!" he cried, his voice quivering with both glee and relief as he yanked the large lever.
At the same time, the dragon unleashed its lightning-infused breath that lit up the heavens a blinding yellow, its cry sounding like a deafening crack of thunder.
A split second before the attack could directly hit Cube, a bluish, transparent, spherical barrier appeared around the floating island. The powerful, magical properties of the barrier reflected the dragon's breath right back at it, the energy erupting into a blinding, electrified blast that swallowed the great beast whole.
Franmalth cackled in delight. "Did you all see that?! The Invincible Shield is, in fact, invincible! Gyahaha – ah? What? Damn thing is still alive?!"
The sky had been cleared once more, but the enormous dragon remained hovering in the air, its entire body flashing with lightning as if it had absorbed its own attack. Its single, golden horn and swirly markings on its wings seemed to glow with magical energy.
"Struck by its own element, of course it would not be fazed," Torafuzar grumbled, displeased. "It would take more to slay this mighty beast."
"Won't be much longer until we rain vengeance upon them all," said Mard Geer, a cruel sneer twisting on his lips. "Once Cube is in position, Mard Geer will awaken Plutogrim and our rage shall echo across this cursed land!"
Cube started to move forward with a lazy flick of Mard Geer's hand. It powered through the roiling black clouds of a new, violent storm summoned by the fury of the giant dragon. Sleet, wind, and lightning were repelled by the Invincible Shield, making Franmalth swell with pride for his creation.
While the storm dragon remained where it was, the five smaller dragons continued to advance towards the oncoming island. They were no more but harmless flies zipping around Cube. Every spell they cast would rebound back into their faces and any physical contact with the Shield resulted in their bodies getting thrown far back.
"Dumb creatures!" Franmalth mocked their useless attempts. He had switched each monitor to view a different Security Lacrima to capture the flying beasts from every possible angle for Tartaros's entertainment. It was too dark and stormy to see the dragons clearly, but none of them were successful in making a dent in Franmalth's ultimate defense.
Or so he had thought.
He noticed one very persistent dragon that didn't take physical rejection too kindly. Cloaked in icy blue flames, the dragon with dark scales and glowing markings kept on diving into the barrier directly above Tartaros Castle. It moved like a comet at full speed, slamming repeatedly against the Shield, its fiery aura dispersing outwards with each impact whilst getting repelled and stunned with every attempt.
And yet, the stupid, stubborn beast never gave up, seemingly bashing itself mindless.
Brighter and stronger its aura grew after each failure, until it was like a blazing, cold sun. It collided with the Shield, its flames released in the form of an explosion that rolled across the barrier, but this time its body was not forced away. Instead, to Franmalth's disbelief, the burning dragon was somehow able to resist the repelling nature of the Shield and sank its claws right into the outer layer.
Franmalth quickly brought up the status of his Shield and his mouth dropped. The integrity of the barrier was gradually weakening under the strength of that dragon! "Impossible! Sire! Sire! We might have a problem!" he exclaimed, showing His Highness the image of the dragon trying to force its way through.
He didn't see the king's reaction, but could detect the uncertainty in Mard Geer's voice; "Is that a black dragon? Can it be... How dare you! How did you enter my castle, you disgusting parasite?!"
"Sire?" Franmalth blinked in confusion. He was about to switch the screen back to the king when a deafening explosion suddenly shook what felt like the entire castle. Franmalth fell onto his console, accidentally pushing a few buttons and shutting some monitors off, including Mard Geer's.
"What was that?! Jackal?!" Franmalth shrieked, looking around in a panic. He was grateful the explosion didn't damage his room at all even though it had sounded close.
"Couldn't be. He should be with His Highness," said Torafuzar, clambering back on his feet. "That explosion was something else. It came from down that hall!" He pointed at one of the two entryways into the Monitor Room.
"Sounds like we have unwanted visitors," Kyoka seethed, following Torafuzar's finger. She flexed her claws just as the hall echoed with screams, yells, and monstrous roars. A battle was taking place between demons and whatever dared to suddenly appear in Tartaros Castle.
"Curses! The enemy has infiltrated our stronghold! They must be attacking the Throne Room as well!" Torafuzar growled as he started to rush out into the hall with Kyoka not that far behind him.
"No! How could this happen?!" Franmalth hollered, clutching the sides of his head. It should have been impossible for their enemies to get so close to invade their headquarters! Franmalth hadn't noticed anything other than the dragons before the barrier was activated. The dark dragon hadn't completely broken through the layers of the Invincible Shield either, so there were no gaps for the enemy to enter.
So what was going on?!
"Figure that out later, Franmalth, we have company coming this way too," said Seilah, boldly marching towards the entrance opposite of where Torafuzar and Kyoka had gone.
Franmalth took one last glance at the monitors still depicting the outside world and grumbled when he couldn't easily find his answer. He grabbed his cane and ran after Seilah, furious that his defenses had somehow been breached. Was the enemy able to teleport inside the castle, he wondered? But even then, that should be impossible with the protective wards fortifying their headquarters, which have been doubled ever since the phantom incident.
He shouldn't be too worried though. By his estimate, his Shield should be able to hold against the dark dragon for another ten minutes or so, enough time for Tartaros to eliminate the threats inside their castle before resorting to Alegria.
Seilah was just about to enter the hallway when it was suddenly set ablaze by a huge, orange, fireball shooting past. Another deafening explosion shook the castle when the fireball collided with the curved wall further down the hall. Heat, smoke, and dust rushed into the room, forcing Seilah to jump back and cover her face with the voluminous sleeve of her robe.
Through the haze, a charred, bleeding, and moaning minion stumbled into view, managing to take one step into the Monitor Room before collapsing on the floor, dead. A pale green bubble of flame began to rise out of the corpse, the nameless minion's soul leaving the body.
Not worth much in Franmalth's eye so he didn't bother to rush in and collect it before it disappeared into nothingness.
A beastly roar rang through the hall, making both Franmalth and Seilah warily tense. There was a loud thud and they both witnessed the death of another lowly minion as its torn and burned body crashed just outside the Monitor Room.
"Useless," Seilah groaned, wrinkling her nose from the acrid stench of burnt flesh. She stomped over the corpses without a care, soiling her bare feet. Meanwhile Franmalth hopped over them to avoid getting his own feet dirty.
As they turned the corner, a scowl was immediately upon Seilah's face while Franmalth raised his brow out of curiosity.
Awaiting them down the smoky, scorched hall was a silver, purple-striped monster the size and build of Ezel, standing amidst a pile of slain, smouldering corpses. Instead of the slimy legs of an octopus like the Etherious, this creature had the legs of a horse and a demonic, black-maned head of a lion. It was armed with a large, one-handed blade that possessed multiple rounded edges and carried a thick shield of tarnished gold. Smoke and embers escaped its fanged mouth when it snarled at the pair of Demon Gates.
The monster may be intimidating in appearance, but the vibrant soul burning in its crimson eyes caught Franmalth's greedy attention most. Strong, aggressive, and delightfully malicious, the creature's soul was at least a few million Jewels!
Seilah's mouth curled into a luscious smile as she studied the monster from head to hoof, one hand lightly touching her lips seductively. "Well, look at this fine specimen. A big, bad, beast. Trapped with a mind of a bloodthirsty monster."
"Its soul is worth a fortune for a dumb creature," said Franmalth, greedily rubbing his hands.
The monster let out a ferocious growl as it took a stomping step forward, crushing a slain minion under its large hoof, bones soundly crunching. The monster looked offended by their remarks, perhaps it wasn't entirely dumb after all. It scraped that same foot back several times before charging like an angry bull, holding its weapons at the ready by its sides.
Every pound of its thunderous hooves shook the stone floor as it headed straight for the demons.
"May I?" Seilah kindly asked Franmalth as she gave him a sideways glance and playful smile.
"Go right ahead. But I do want a taste of its delectable soul afterwards," Franmalth replied with a hungry grin.
The monster was rushing in fast, its snarling mouth baring every fang, but Seilah wasn't worried as she took a step towards it.
It was only a few paces away when Seilah thrust her hand forward, palm facing the beast. Her eyes flashed gold and her hand was enveloped in a shadowy mist, casting her Macro Curse upon her opponent.
The monster's red eyes briefly turned gold from her power. It didn't put up a fight as it quickly fell under her control. Its mad charge slowed to a stumbling gait before stopping completely a foot away from its new master. Head bowed and arms limp, its crimson stare was dull as it looked at Seilah like a tamed animal, awaiting its orders.
Seilah giggled and gently stroked the short, coarse hair on the monster's big, beefy arm. "You're all mine now. Such a hideous face you have, but I'm sure Lamy wouldn't have trouble fixing that. But first, let's have some fun with your friends trying to wreck the place, shall we?"
"Wait! Give me! Give me!" said Franmalth, reaching out to touch the monster too. He felt a hot, invigorating sensation rush through him as he absorbed a part of its soul. Its memories became his, although there was hardly much to explore.
The monster was called a 'Lynel' and it had lived in Earthland for only a month. Brought into existence by a terrible, evil power, its sole purpose was to kill all who opposed its master and creator, the entity known as the Demon King.
Franmalth scoffed at its short, pathetic life. "They call the Great Evil their Demon King. Ridiculous! There can only be one King of Demons!"
Seilah was amused. "His Highness will fall into another fit of rage when he learns about that. If he hasn't already, dealing with the dreck invading his throne. They didn't come barging through the front gate, that's for certain." She gave a curt nod and pointed look at the Lynel. "Speak. How did you get in here?"
The only answer they got were deep grunting sounds from the monster.
Annoyed, Seilah held up a finger and the Lynel immediately shut its mouth. "Disappointing."
More monsters came scampering down the hall. It was a group of green, human-sized, lizard soldiers bearing short swords and shields. Their yellow eyes were wide with a killing frenzy as they ran at the Lynel and demons.
Seilah twirled her finger and the Lynel obediently turned around to face the oncoming fiends. With a wicked smile, she commanded firmly, "Get rid of these fleas."
The Lynel soundly drew a deep breath and roared, its cry seemingly making the stone walls tremble and every fibre in Franmalth's body quiver. The lizards stopped in their tracks, gawking at their ally in bewilderment. They quickly turned tail and scrambled away when the Lynel charged straight for them.
The Lynel caught up to the scaly cowards in only a few strides, swinging its blade at their backs. The monster's strength was undeniable as it completely cleaved a pair of lizards in half with a single slash.
"An effective murdering machine," commented Seilah, taking joy in watching the rest of the lizard soldiers getting slaughtered with ease.
To Franmalth, it was a wonderful display of carnage and colourful lights as the weak souls of the dead left their bodies.
Just as the last lizard was slain, Franmalth spotted a blur of black and white rush in from behind the falling reptile. The shadowy creature pounced at the Lynel, going for the throat with a vicious growl.
The Lynel reared onto its hind legs in surprise before it stomped forward and swiped its shield arm at its attacker. The shadow was nimble, evading the Lynel's claws and tearing away a mouthful of mane in the process.
"Is that a wolf?" Franmalth exclaimed, catching a glimpse of the creature when it landed on all fours before the angry Lynel.
Black with white markings, a thick white mane, and red eyes glowing with an evil light; it was a wolf far from a normal woodland beast. The animal was like a pup compared to the hulking Lynel and yet it showed no fear. Without hesitation, the wolf leapt at the nearest wall, kicked off, and sank its fangs into the Lynel's newly exposed neck, ripping it open in one smooth motion.
Blood spewed from the Lynel's throat like a fountain and it toppled sideways on the floor in a dying heap. As its crimson soul slipped away, the wolf rounded the body, fur and mouth dripping red.
The beast eyed the demons hungrily, its throat rumbling with a deep growl and its bloodied fangs bared. Metal bands were clasped around its neck and each foot, engraved with scarlet runes that shone wickedly. Its ears were flat against its head, both glinting with ruby-jewelled hoop earrings that also shimmered with some sort of power. Back hunched and mane all bristled, the wolf fearlessly ambled forward.
"So it is. And just like that, it killed its own ally with no remorse," said Seilah, hiding her shock behind her hand. Her eyes suddenly narrowed, her lips a thin line. "This beast is not just a simple monster or pet. A very strong power has chained its will... My Curse may not have any effect on it."
Franmalth was rather intrigued by that. He could see it for himself when he peered into the wolf's fierce gaze. The state of its soul was something he had never encountered before; the soul wasn't whole, but incomplete – broken like a glass ball and missing major pieces – the void filled with corruption. In spite of that, those little emerald fragments of its true soul twinkled like stars within the purplish haze of darkness. It was neither animal nor entirely demon from what Franmalth could tell, making the creature quite extraordinary and thus its soul was extremely rare and priceless!
"I want it! I want it! I gotta have its soul!" Franmalth exclaimed, wriggling his fingers.
"Careful, Franmalth," Seilah warned, shooting him a sideways glance; "Like I said, this is not a simple-minded creature like that big monster. It possesses a higher intelligence, worthy to be reined by this so-called Demon King."
"I know! But we're not simple-minded either, Seilah, we're Etherious! Nothing stands above us, especially not a mind-controlled slave of a wannabe sovereign! Gyahahaha!" Franmalth charged, waving his cane above his head like a mad demon. His sudden action prompted the wolf to break into a run.
"Got you now!" Cackling, Franmalth shot out his left arm like an elastic cord across the hall to close the gap instantly. His grasping fingers were a split second from touching the wolf's snarling face when the beast suddenly swerved to the side.
Franmalth grunted, having expected the damn wolf to bite him in retaliation, which would have made soul absorption so easy! He quickly reeled back his arm with an audible snap and grumbled at the wolf's lightning reflexes. There was no time to try again so Franmalth decided to test out his newly acquired soul.
His body morphed into the Lynel in a bright flash, practically springing into shape. The form of the large monster granted him height and incredible physical strength, strong enough to punch through the stone wall if he wanted to! Although he still possessed one eye, his vision was sharper and his sense of smell and hearing were far better than normal. Best feeling of all was the fire deep in his lungs, making his breath come out hot and smoky – the Lynel's most devastating feature!
Franmalth was tempted to use his fire breath, but the wolf was soon upon him, not at all fazed by the demon's transformation. Franmalth lunged forward to meet it head-on, swiping his clawed hands in hope of catching the beast in his monstrous grip, knowing it would go for his throat first. However, right before he could hit anything, the wolf suddenly vanished in a powerful gust of cold black wind.
Mane blown back and skin all tingly, Franmalth balked in surprise. He didn't have a moment to even blink when he felt the strange wind once more blasting him from above and behind.
Seilah shouted.
Franmalth whipped his head around just in time to witness the descending wolf transform into a black, armoured knight in a puff of shadowy mist.
The last thing Franmalth saw was the gleaming point of a dark sword before it was plunged right into his eye. Pain both sharp and searing hot suddenly coursed through every inch of his body, casting him in a world of hurt. He was deafened by his own screams, literally blinded by pain. It was pure agony that seemed to last for an eternity. But then, everything went numb.
He eventually found himself drifting in silent darkness. Lights suddenly flashed. A rainbow of colours. Each one burning like a small bubble of flame to chase away the endless shadow. They slowly rose towards the bright star in the distant sky, drawn to it like moths. Even Franmalth.
He followed the lights and entered the realm of the star, seeing the world shift from nothingness... to a familiar hallway of Tartaros Castle littered with bodies of monsters and minions. One particular body was completely engulfed in orange fire tinged with black.
And standing before the burning corpse was Seilah who glowered vehemently through the tall flames at an armoured knight wielding a sword and shield on the other side.
In utter dismay, Franmalth finally realized what happened. He was the burning body in the middle! And now he was just a soul that had left its mortal vessel!
Frantic, he glanced around at the rainbow lights around him, seeing them disappear before they touched the ceiling; those were the tens of thousands of souls he had amassed during his current lifetime and they have been set free!
No! My souls! It took me centuries to collect all of them! He wanted to wail, but he had no mouth.
His body – his beautiful body – was quickly turning into cinders. With no piece left intact, Franmalth couldn't regenerate himself – he truly was dead! Killed by that accursed wolf knight!
However, it was not the end of Franmalth. Hell's Core and Lamy would revive him! He could sense the call of the chamber deep within Cube, always actively guiding the souls of the Etherious so none would get lost to the void.
Franmalth ignored the Core's beckoning for a moment to zip towards the knight's hidden face, furious at his defeat. He was about to silently yell his vengeance when the fiend's red eyes flickered towards him.
The enemy could see him as a soul... Franmalth was suddenly afraid. Before he could quickly retreat to Hell's Core, the knight swiped at him, trapping him inside some kind of glass jar with a corked lid. Strange, glowing purple runes were etched in the clear glass and cork, preventing the soul from escaping.
The wolf knight clipped the jar to the belt around its hips and began to march through the flames, trampling over Franmalth's burning body towards Seilah.
Helpless, Franmalth could only watch as their battle ensued.
"Impossible! Sire! Sire! We might have a problem!"
Mard Geer held back his disgruntled sigh. Just when he thought they had the situation under control, Franmalth had to show him a new problem. The transparent, holographic display hovering in front of his throne statically switched from Franmalth's wide-eyed, panicking face to the view outside, directly above the castle.
He hid his surprise well, whereas his audience of demons showed a wide range of shock and fear. Standing guard on either side of the central royal carpet were Tempester, Ezel, Jackal, and a few elite demons, all of them watching the same scene happening right at that moment.
Franmalth's supposedly Invincible Shield was failing to repel one stubborn, angry dragon blazing like an icy inferno.
"Is that a black dragon?" Mard Geer leaned forward, narrowing his gaze as if to enhance the image for a closer view. Unfortunately, it was as good as it could get with Franmalth's current technology.
Nevertheless, judging by its appearance and ferocity alone, Mard Geer had a dreaded feeling the dragon could be the infamous Acnologia. If the giant storm dragon wasn't a concern already...
"Can it be..." Mard Geer started to muse only to cut himself short. At the entrance of the Throne Room, a shadow rose from the floor and took on the form of a very recognizable – and very detestable – black, armoured knight wielding a single broadsword.
Seething, Mard Geer jumped out of his throne and glared venomously at the wretch, vines secretly waiting to strangle beneath the floor by its feet. "What?! How dare you! How did you enter my castle, you disgusting parasite?!"
"Huh?!"
"An enemy?!"
As one, all the demons assembled in the hall turned to face the sudden intruder, each bearing their own form of offensive power whether it be fists, Curses, fangs, or claws.
"Sire?" Franmalth's voice came through the screen. But there was a sudden boom coming from an unseen explosion on Franmalth's end before the image blinked away.
At the same time, the castle rumbled under their feet, shaking loose dust from the ceiling and rattling the chandeliers.
"The hell?! Was that a bomb?!" Jackal snarled, his ears standing straight up on his head and the end of his tail twitching. He was crouched low, looking ready to pounce at their intruder, his black fingertips sparking and ready to ignite. He was hesitant, as were the others, knowing full-well to await their king's command.
"A little present," spoke the phantom knight, its deep, infuriating voice resounding throughout the chamber; "in return for that spectacular light show. Allow me to personally provide some entertainment before your arrival upon my throne – or until your barrier falls to the might of my dragons. Whichever comes first."
Mard Geer stormed off his altar and down the carpet, blood boiling with anger. His demons backed away as he marched by, sensing his murderous aura. "Only a coward would send a puppet yet again to do his bidding," he spat. He didn't wait for a response and thrust his arm forward, sending his hidden vines to ensnare the phantom.
But the damn shadow must have detected them beforehand; swift and precise, it slashed the vines the instant they shot out of the floor and bounded high into the air before they could regrow. The phantom levitated under the ceiling, its cape billowing and its eyes flashing red as they bore into Mard Geer.
"I sent more than just this puppet for your little amusement, Your Royal Highness. Caging yourselves within this magical barrier will not keep my forces at bay, all thanks to that useful gift you sent me earlier."
"I did not send any gift!" Mard Geer retorted, lashing out with more vines.
The shadow phased through the ceiling to escape the thorns, but its voice could still be heard; "Try not to perish before the real fun begins!" Its laughter echoed long after it vanished from sight.
Mard Geer was on the verge of losing his composure, but quickly realized it was exactly what the damn wretch wanted. He couldn't risk making any mistakes due to his anger now that the enemy had somehow invaded his fortress.
He tuned his senses, detecting foreign souls ranging from weak to strong down on the same floor as the Monitor Room. Kyoka, Torafuzar, Franmalth, and Seilah were busy handling the situation and Mard Geer trusted his Demon Gates to prevail.
He tried to pinpoint where the shadow had gone, but it was useless when the damn fiend lacked a soul. His eyes swept across his loyal demons as he issued the command, "Find that parasite and eliminate it!"
"Yes, Your Majesty! It will not escape from us," said Tempester, pounding a fist to his chest. He motioned for the elites to follow him as he turned to leave.
"I'll be the one to crush that little worm," said Ezel. He shoved the smaller demons roughly aside as he moved to the lead, making Tempester grumble at his rudeness.
Jackal bolted past Ezel with a cocky, sharp-toothed sneer. "Not if I blow 'im up first, fatass!"
Growling, Ezel charged after the agile demon. The other demons were prompted to hurry after them.
The heavy doors slammed shut shortly after the last demon had left, leaving Mard Geer to silently battle his internal rage to calm himself. The thought of his enemies attacking inside his castle infuriated him to no end. The barrier, the protective wards, the fact that only those with the mark of Tartaros were granted access into the guild – how did the accursed phantom and its minions bypass it all?
Mard Geer didn't get a chance to contemplate it over when he heard shouting coming from the other side of the doors.
It was a cacophony of voices; cries of turmoil; roars of anger.
One of the stronger enemy souls had suddenly arrived before the group at the end of the hall, its magical power dark and oddly familiar.
The shouting was suddenly interrupted by the deafening howl of a wind tunnel.
Mard Geer stiffened, sensing the dark magic quickly heading his way. He sprang to the far side of the Throne Room just as the heavy doors were blown right off their hinges by an icy hurricane. The bitter, chilly winds completely wrecked everything in its path, tearing stone and carpet and blasting an enormous hole on the solid wall behind the throne.
Through the thick haze of dust, Mard Geer glared at what was left in the hurricane's wake; tall, massive, wind-swept formations of glistening purple ice. Not only was his Throne Room ruined, imprisoned within the ice were the bodies of Tempester, Jackal, Ezel, and the elite demons, each with a look of pain or surprise frozen on their faces.
"Silver..." Mard Geer hissed vehemently, his breath steaming in the air that was quickly dropping in temperature. It was unmistakably the Devil Slayer's dark magic.
The human should be nothing but a corpse without Keyes. Unless... the Great Evil was able to manipulate the souls of the dead like a necromancer as well.
Silver must be the 'gift' the phantom was referring to. Which would explain how the enemy was able to infiltrate Tartaros Castle so easily...
Mard Geer would know the truth soon enough. He sensed the Devil Slayer approaching from down the hall, walking at a leisurely pace. The closer the Slayer, the stronger his aura, a cold so strong that frost was creeping along the floor and walls, threatening to overtake every inch of the room. Crackling, misting ice blocked the shattered doorway and echoing through the gaps was the dull ring of armoured footsteps.
The enemy's presence vanished midway from reaching the frozen blockade only to reappear in front of Mard Geer.
Clad in black, heavy armour with a torn frosted cape, the Devil Slayer truly was under the control of the Great Evil. Frenzied, crimson eyes burned within the narrow-slit visor of the mage's half-helm; fully enraged and possessed by another.
Thick ice added another layer of protection over Silver's armour, adorning each piece with large crystal spikes or jagged blades. Gauntlets ended in deadly, glistening claws and atop his helm were multiple frozen horns to accompany the larger pair made of black metal.
His aura was a weapon itself, an intense chill that cut through clothes like a knife, capable of greatly slowing opponents within his vicinity. If the numbing cold wasn't the worst, prickly ice spreading fast around the Slayer's feet created a hazardous trap that was difficult to counter when the magic was resilient to most forms of heat.
A Devil Slayer as an enemy of Tartaros was troublesome. Especially one who was a former Demon Gate. Most demons stood no chance against the likes of Silver, but Mard Geer was king. He ranked far beyond his underlings!
The royal Etherious stood elegantly poised in his stance, every muscle tensed to mask his discomfort to the freezing air. He glowered at the cold-wielding knight, but his hatred was directed towards the one pulling the strings. "Is this your form of mockery? To turn what once belonged to Mard Geer against him? The power of a mere Devil Slayer is nothing to me!"
He flicked a hand and numerous twisting vines burst from the floor untouched by ice. The thorns honed in on Silver, attempting to bind him. However, they did little against the Slayer's magically protected armour, freezing and getting torn up the instant they touched ice. The vines served more as a distraction for Mard Geer to follow-up with his next attack.
He swiped his fingers upwards and sprouted a thicker, sturdier vine that rapidly grew towards his foe, bearing a closed flower bud at the end. Once a foot away, the bud bloomed into a giant white rose, the petals shimmering with silvery energy.
Mard Geer clenched his hand into a tight fist and detonated the flower like a bomb, releasing its explosive energy.
"Feel the sting of Mard Geer's Explosion!"
With his Throne Room already in shambles, he didn't care to hold back. The entire castle violently shook as the energy blew apart stone and ice, reducing everything in the blast zone to rubble and dust. Situated at the top floor of the castle, the roof was blown away and the floors below collapsed one after another, several levels deep. Adjacent rooms and areas were also destroyed with no regard, causing a chain reaction as surrounding, weakened structures toppled over.
Eventually, the castle stopped rumbling with falling debris. Plumes of dust filled the brisk morning air.
Mard Geer smiled as he stood on the crumbling, crooked ledge of what was left of the floor. His attack had decimated the top back side of Tartaros Castle, resulting in an ugly, gaping hole that would likely take his minions months to fix. Regardless, it should have been more than enough to eliminate the Devil Slayer.
He peered into the dusty hole piled with rubble, seeing no traces of Silver nor his ice. No longer could he sense the Slayer's aura either, bringing a triumphant sneer on his lips.
Explosion had unfortunately taken out his own forces as well; sacrificed along with the enemy without a second thought by their king.
No matter. The souls of the demons were not lost. They would be reborn in Hell's Core sometime later in the day – perhaps in time to witness Tartaros's victory.
A distant banging drew Mard Geer's attention towards the blazing comet high in the sky. A dark speck shrouded cold flames. The black dragon was mercilessly slamming against Franmalth's barrier like a fly to a window, making the shield flicker with every impact. The magic still held strong despite the dragon's efforts, but how much longer would it last?
That dreaded feeling returned, fouling Mard Geer's mood. He shook his head, wanting to believe his suspicions wrong. "That dragon cannot be Acnologia."
"Oh, but it is," boasted the deep voice of the phantom, sounding too close for comfort.
Teeth bared in a snarl, Mard Geer snapped his head to the side in alarm.
The shadow stood an arm's length away, red eyes watching the dragon in a nonchalant manner. Its gaze flickered to the side to meet Mard Geer's scathing glare. "No matter the strength or will, all shall come under my rule. Even you Demons of Zeref."
In a fit of anger, Mard Geer leapt back and threw one hand forward at the same time, summoning hundreds of spiralling vines from every inch of the wall.
There was a flash of purple.
The thorns were suddenly frozen under purple ice, much to Mard Geer's dismay.
Dropping in front of the phantom was Silver, unmarred by Mard Geer's Explosion. Along with his return was the damnable cold and the coating of frost and ice creeping on every exposed surface.
The frozen thorns shattered like glass without so much as a gesture as the Devil Slayer proceeded to stomp towards Mard Geer. He managed to take a few steps when a grunt from the phantom made him pause.
An unspoken command that quelled the rage in the Devil Slayer's eyes. Obedient like a slave, Silver stepped aside to allow the phantom to brush past.
Immune to both the cold and ice spreading around its feet, the phantom clicked its tongue in disappointment as it took a quick glance at the devastation below. "Quite a mess you've made. If this is how you are going to resist, then I shall have to restrain you or else there won't be anything left of my new fortress."
Mard Geer couldn't believe what he was hearing. He brought a hand over his face to partially conceal his fury and started to laugh hysterically at the phantom's arrogance. "What audacity! What foolishness! Dragons. A Devil Slayer. Acnologia! You may have bound them to your command, but you will never do the same to Tartaros!
"I am the King of the Underworld! Born from Lord Zeref to rule over Hell! This castle is my domain! Try as you might, a cowardly wretch like you cannot take it from Mard Geer!"
It was the shadow knight's turn to laugh albeit more reserved than the other. "And how do you plan to stop me when you've already lost?"
"Tartaros is far from losing this war!" Mard Geer snapped, clenching his hands in frustration. His nails dug into the skin of his face, but he was too angry to care if he made himself bleed.
"This was no war to begin with," the phantom countered, calmly strolling over the unsteady ledge towards the glaring demon. Swaying by its right side was its broadsword, the dark, sharp edges gleaming with every step. "What did you hope to conquer entering my realm with your little kingdom? When that barrier falls, you will have nothing left to defend against the fury of my dragons. Unless..." the knight paused and slightly tilted its head, giving the Etherious a smug, knowing look, "you plan to awaken the demon that slumbers as your island to claim victory."
Mard Geer stiffened, his expression darkening further into a hateful scowl aimed at Silver. There could be no one else to blame for revealing the Dark Guild's secret weapon.
"A waste, that would be," the phantom pressed on, taking joy in angering Mard Geer past his limits. "Its power will not help your pathetic struggle to win."
"Ignorant fool!" Mard Geer growled, shifting into position with one hand raised in preparation of casting Alegria; "You underestimate the true might of Plutogrim! Behold its magnificence as it devours your dragons!"
Mard Geer wanted to believe it wasn't an act out of desperation; after Franmalth's cannon ended in failure, the alternate plan was to get Cube close enough to the Great Demon's lair and use Plutogrim's grand, but limited power for a surprise assault. However, with Tartaros Castle infested with loathsome pests that drove him mad, Mard Geer had finally run out of patience.
White light enveloped the tip of his right index finger, wispy like smoke. He began to draw the Curse seal, but was interrupted by a huge wave of jagged ice that swallowed the phantom from behind and continued to surge in Mard Geer's direction.
There was nowhere to dodge. Mard Geer threw himself off the ledge at the last second, feeling the intense chill of the ice as it missed him by an inch.
As he fell, he flipped around to plummet feet-first towards the dusty pit of rubble and tried again to cast Alegria. However, once more Silver got in the damn way by warping in front of Mard Geer in midair and clamping an icy claw around his wrist before the last stroke of the seal.
A sharp cold pierced the royal demon's skin, but he didn't even get the chance to flinch when the world around them suddenly changed in an instant. Their descent came to an abrupt stop on something softer and in a blindingly brighter area than a pile of rubble in a deep, dark hole.
Disoriented, Mard Geer stumbled forward, but still managed to snap his arm free from Silver's frozen grip. Left hand imbued with power, the demon was ready to retaliate with every ounce of rage in his body only to have the Slayer vanish out of sight a heartbeat later.
Mard Geer's power didn't go to waste; he quickly crushed the brace of prickling, numbing ice around his wrist left from the Slayer's cursed touch. His skin felt like it was burning, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips. He shook the pain away and scanned his new surroundings, wary, tense, and outright angry he was dragged somewhere unknown.
He was no longer on Cube, that much was certain as his senses were overwhelmed by the foreign souls of enemies. Down in his battle stance, he expected another ambush, but none came.
What he found was a vast and nearly empty palace hall with a black marble floor and walls and a tall, domed ceiling painted gold. Rows of silver and diamond chandeliers hung above bearing enough burning candles to warm up and brighten the room like the midday summer sun. A plush, ornate, purple and gold-embroidered carpet ran down the centre of the room and Mard Geer was standing in the centre of it.
His eyes followed the carpet down to the very end where awaited a multi-tiered altar built like a pyramid. Standing guard in front on either side of the carpet were twelve heavily armoured silver knights that were twice as large as ordinary humans, each wielding huge battle axes.
The moment Mard Geer noticed them, the knights moved as one, raising their axes vertically beside them and slamming the blunt ends against the floor with deep, throaty grunts. They stood as still as statues afterwards, their hidden eyes locked on the intruder, but did nothing else as if awaiting orders.
Past the guards, at the top of the altar, sat an enormous, majestic throne seemingly made of solid gold and encrusted with countless gems of every colour. The royal chair was lined with plush, satiny blue cushions, unbefitting for the one who sat upon it; a brute of a man with a rugged, hideously scarred face, ashy skin and hair as red as flame. He wore black armour more elaborate than the phantom's and Silver's, trimmed with gold and adorned with an elegant, red cape with golden tassels.
The man was missing his right eye, however that only made his stare far more fierce and intimidating. Red and fervent just like his slaves, the man's one-eyed gaze possessed a wickedness that rivaled perhaps even Mard Geer's, which the Etherious loathed to admit.
Sitting like an arrogant king above all, the man was the Great Evil Tartaros had been after all this time.
Mard Geer stood poised, evenly meeting the man's stare, deeply infuriated to be looked down upon. The evil radiating from the man was so thick it was like standing in miasma. With every passing second, Mard Geer grew restless, his demonic side yearning to break free and wreak havoc upon the vile creature and his stolen palace.
An ugly smile twisted on the man's lips as he straightened in his throne and gestured with a hand. "Welcome, Your Royal Highness," he greeted, his deep voice reverberating throughout the hall like thunder; "You had forced my hand to bring you here earlier than anticipated, so forgive my lack of courtesy. I would have prepared a feast and gala in your name."
Mard Geer scoffed derisively, hands furling by his sides. How insulting to be toyed around by the wretch! He took a deep breath to steady his composure; reminding himself he was a king with dignity and power. A confident smirk curled on his lips as he crossed his arms. "How kind of you to consider that thought. But know this, vile parasite, you have made a grave mistake bringing me here within your palace walls."
"And why is that?" the man questioned, brow slightly raised as if to amuse Mard Geer. "Because you will summon your island demon to do your bidding? Go ahead. Awaken it. I will not stop you this time."
A trick. Mard Geer hesitated, knowing the fiend had Silver waiting on standby somewhere, ready to make the Etherious look like a fool again. But even if it wasn't a trick, casting Alegria would do nothing when Mard Geer was not on Cube, an important fact the Great Evil had likely pried out of Silver.
The man leaned back in his seat, lifting one scarred eyebrow as his smile broadened into a grin at Mard Geer's silence. "What's the matter? Is it useless to try? If it is not your Plutogrim, then wherein lies your threat? Is it you, Your Royal Highness? Are you saying you have the power to make me regret inviting you to my throne?"
Mard Geer felt the corner of his mouth twitch from the man's scornful tone. His enemy knew how to push him over the edge.
So be it.
Mard Geer had enough. He was not going to endure another damn moment with the arrogant fiend.
Wearing a sadistic smile, he thrust a finger at the man and answered, "Precisely! Allow me to erase you from existence!"
His power surged, no longer holding back the darkness that wanted to let loose since the beginning. A dark mist enveloped his body and he instantly transformed into his stronger, demonic form. Skin and clothes had hardened into glossy, black and silver plating tougher than any known metal, fingers turned into sharp claws, a pair of horns sprouted atop his head, and bony, webbed wings grew from his back, spread open for flight.
His aura flared to an astounding level, cracking the floor around him and disturbing the hanging chandeliers, making them clink and dangerously sway. The heavy knights faltered and stumbled backwards, some dropping their weapons seemingly out of fear.
The man, however, was noticeably not impressed as he remained calmly seated in his throne.
Mard Geer fed off the evil coming from the man, feeling his power and rage swell higher than ever before. It was too late for the ignorant fool to stop Mard Geer from unleashing his ultimate attack; "Memento Mori!"
From Mard Geer's body and from beneath the floor, the wailing spirits of the long lost dead burst forth. With darkened bodies and empty white eyes, the countless spirits were a vengeful swarm of screaming death that quickly overtook the man and his knights like a tidal wave. They collectively formed an eerie, misty pillar of darkness around their victims that rapidly grew larger and larger as more spirits gathered. Up and through the ceiling, reaching as high as the clouds in the sky, the pillar spread to the entire hall and eventually the whole palace and the land beyond that.
Mard Geer hovered within the whirling, screaming chaos, unfazed by the spirits as they devoured everything without leaving a trace; erasing all that once existed. It felt like a glorious hour when it was actually less than a minute when the last of the spirits vanished by the end of his Curse.
All that remained down below was an enormous, bottomless hole in the heart of a ruined, frozen city. The Great Evil and his palace were gone.
He started to laugh in triumph, but his victory was very short-lived.
An immense power had risen, one that Mard Geer remembered all too well.
He snapped his head skyward and met the Great Evil's one-eyed gaze.
Shrouded in a shadowy aura and levitating in midair with his arms crossed, the man was completely unscathed. The back of his right hand was aglow with golden light, which Mard Geer could only assume was the source of his incredible power.
Mard Geer was trembling, feeling his heart rate quicken and his blood boiling. His body felt so hot it was as if he was on fire. He was losing focus in both sight and mind; too overwhelmed by an uncontrollable anger raging inside him.
"Now look what you've done," he heard the garbled voice of the man bellow seemingly from underwater, "You owe me a new castle and half an army. And there is none better than your little kingdom in the sky."
The Etherious roared at the top of his lungs, an inhuman cry that echoed across the land. He flapped his wings and shot towards the red-eyed shadow like a deadly black arrow. His fists were a blur as they repeatedly pummeled his enemy in the face and body. Every blow was like striking an immovable wall, but he did not relent in his onslaught.
There was a flash of gold and something slammed into the side of his head, sending him flying. He quickly recovered in flight, his eyes darting in every direction before locking back on the floating shadow. Spiraling, shimmering energy was summoned in his right hand, resembling a large silvery portal. He swiped forward and from within the light shot the ancient, woody trunk of Dea Yggdrasil.
The giant, twisted tree headed for the shadow like a battering ram only to be blown to splinters by a blast of dark purple energy.
Mard Geer launched another Dea Yggdrasil right after, but that tree met the same fate as the first. Snarling viciously, Mard Geer dove at the shadow once more, blindly lashing with both fists and claws. He wasn't sure how many blows he landed until he was hit hard in the gut by a solid knee.
Wind knocked out of him, he tumbled downwards with the earth and sky spinning in his vision. He gasped for air and rapidly beat his wings to right himself seconds before crashing.
The tall shadow suddenly appeared before him, its red-eye fierce and blazing. Mard Geer saw nothing but stars when an armoured fist shrouded in purplish energy pounded the top of his head.
He felt and heard stone and ice shattering as his face smashed into the ground. A second later, something heavy landed in the middle of his back between his wings, soundly cracking his armour and further taking away his breath.
He choked, tasting blood and dirt, suddenly unable to breathe or move. His vision was blurred, but in his periphery, he could make out the wispy outline of the shadow standing right by his head, a dark purple orb growing in its golden hand.
The purple light was the last thing he saw before everything went black.
A firm hand pulled him out of the darkness.
Mard Geer opened his eyes to a dark, roiling sky. Thunder rumbled and lightning arced throughout the clouds, bright enough to temporarily blind him. He blinked a few times and found himself in human form, lying on his back on a cold, hard ground. When he tried to move, he was met with horrific pain all throughout his body.
He groaned and ended up coughing blood, which only caused more agony. It was a desperate struggle to breathe. His spine and some ribs were badly broken and he couldn't remember why.
"Mard Geer."
The Etherious froze at his name, spoken by a familiar voice he hadn't heard in ages. Slowly, Mard Geer turned his head, his eyes widening in shock at the cloaked man sitting on a boulder nearby. Clutched in the man's hand was a brown leather book and on the cover, neatly hand-written in black ink read the title: Book of Mard Geer.
"L-Lord Zeref?" the demon croaked, sputtering his words.
The man pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing his fair and youthful human face. A deceitful appearance to many who were foolish to not know the magnificent Lord Zeref in the flesh. He gave Mard Geer a small, pitiful smile before he turned his head to stare at something off to the side.
Mard Geer followed his lord's line of sight to the best of his ability, having to uncomfortably twist his neck.
They were atop a snowy mountain cliff in perfect view of both Cube and Nuseptima in the far, far distance. Storm clouds stretched beyond the horizons, flashing with yellow lightning above Cube and a sinister red over the city. Franmalth's barrier continued to protect the floating island from the dragons as it steadily made its way towards the destroyed capital, its course still set under Mard Geer's last command.
"It seems that not even Memento Mori is effective against him," Zeref remarked, sounding quite displeased.
Mard Geer looked back to his lord, wondering if the Black Wizard had been watching the events unfold since the start.
"Him? You... You mean... ugh!" the demon grimaced as he tried to move again. The pain... he was starting to remember bits and pieces of what may have happened. The Great Evil was responsible for his agony, but how was that possible? In demon form, Mard Geer was supposed to be invincible. And yet here he lay, broken and bleeding and suffering with both pain and humiliation before his lord and creator. "Did... Did you save me, Lord Zeref?"
Zeref's dark eyes fell on the defeated Etherious, his sympathetic smile still present. "Of course. I couldn't bear to lose something very important to me."
Mard Geer was elated to know his lord saw him in such high regard. All his pain seemed to disappear for that brief moment.
Zeref extended his free hand towards Mard Geer, but it wasn't a kind gesture of support as the demon had first thought. Instead, the mage was pulling something that was stored in Mard Geer's dimensional storage.
In a puff of black smoke, the Book of E.N.D. appeared above Mard Geer, brown and leather-bound like every Etherious Book in Zeref's collection. With a slight flick of a finger, the book levitated over to Zeref who appeared relieved to have it back in his hand.
"As for you, Mard Geer," Zeref furrowed his brow and shook his head at the beaten Etherious in utter disdain, "I expected more from you. Instead, you went ahead and lost everything you had attained. Handed over on a silver platter, I have to say."
Sighing, the mage got up and moved to stand over Mard Geer who wanted to shrink away from the cold, dark eyes looking down on him. "Your defeat is proof that your power is not enough to serve my ultimate goal," Zeref continued, lifting the Book of Mard Geer; "There is no more use for you. Consider this a merciful blessing..."
The leather book suddenly turned black with rot and began to wilt and disintegrate, pieces flaking away like charred ash.
"N-No! Lord Zeref! I-I can... still..." the Etherious started to plead, fruitlessly reaching towards his creator. He saw his fingers blacken and crumble away like his book. Painless and surreal.
There was no hint of remorse on Zeref's face before Mard Geer could no longer see or feel. His world went silent as he became nothing for all eternity.
A/N: Poor Mard Geer and Tartaros. "This was no war to begin with," as Phantom Ganon had said.
I was planning to include a little battle with Jiemma (summoned from Mard Geer's Prison Flower) and the Iron Knuckles, but the chapter was already long enough.
Now that Ganondorf has obtained the flying fortress he always wanted, that is also equipped with so many cool, evil things and a bunch more demons, what do you think he's going to do next? Overall, his forces keeps getting larger and stronger, so what are the good guys to do? Bwhahaha.
Thanks for reading!