Queen's note: post Doom fighting and cannon… grossness as a warning. Might be body horror? Its gross hell stuff and poking dead demons in this chapter. Also, I think I got a few if the Argent D'nur cities mixed up in chapter 54… oops. Sorry about that, I'll get that fixed at some point when I try to edit this monster.

OH! Belated but THANK YOU to Emberin for doing the cover for the story! they're on Instagram and are an amazing artist, as well as being the sweetest person!

Garnets

Chapter Sixty Six:

Impossible

Blood, ash, rotting titan- dust of calcification and that sulfur like death char. It all hung heavy thick in the air. Cling to the stones and armor of those still standing. Swirling ash piles getting picked up by the breeze of massive wings as the native, dragonic-like wintherin.

"Bloody beast- may the souls you treasure face Kalibas and are turned away to the blood swamps-!"

The Slayer shifted and took a step, his foot kicking almost with full force into already cracked ribs, breaking three of them in the normally towering Hell created slaver. An unearthly, echoing howl lifted into the air as the Slayer did not remove his foot but pressed downwards instead until he felt something crack and give even more.

Haco let out a rough laugh as he finished off the Hell Knight before coming over. His ballista rested on his shoulder, keeping posture like the other two Sentinels as if there were no injuries. "Bold of you to assume the Great Slayer cares about others, let alone treasure their souls."

There was a low, dark chuckle from the mentioned Demigod as he removed his foot from the side of the gasping Tyrant's chest cavity. Not even bothering to watch the flow of dark red blood, and bone fragments that were already starting to char. He reached down to grasp the hilt of the blue opalescent crucible. It hummed with hunger that was, for once, audible as it was pulled out of the demon's left shoulder. The Tyrant watched as his encrusted shoulder and what was left of that arm started to dissolve into shimmering sand like crystal from the gorgon blade after its removal. For the first time since charging in, the demon looked horrified.

The Hellwalker had a gorgon crucible, and the Tyrant was likely going to be fed to the living blade. He snarled, trying to use his voice for whatever dignity was left as he was circled, feeling a part of his back starting to calcify as he was fallen into the rotten, turning innards of the Titan below him.

"Finish me off or make proper use of me, or just go back to your tomb Hellwalker." The Tyrant snapped before one of his polished horns were grabbed and lifted, jerking the higher level demon's head at an awkward angle as it was inspected. He snarled and tried to lunge up, but his spine was calcified and only made another jerky motion. Then growled in frustration as more of his spine was solidifying downward.

The Slayer snorted, pulling the polished black horn a little more firmly to look it over. It was very well cared for, surprisingly sanded then polished smooth and shiny. He lifted his Crucible, pushing his will against the Last Gift to keep control as it was still hungry and craving blood, energy from the sudden fight. Lining up the blade and using some of his own energy to cut through the horn and keep it from turning to char. The base of the horn was covered in the thick, shimmering sea glass like blue crystal as some of the same was coating the demon.

Judging from how the Tyrant was yelling, though cold, the Last Gift's cut and effects were clearly causing pain to the demon. Neither the Argenta present or the Demigod seemed to care as the other horn was grabbed to be cut off as well.

The Tyrant realized too late he was being kept alive not for information or anything reasonable. He was just being harvested for a trophy as his second horn was pulled free and held up to be inspected. All the while the humming blade of the blue crucible not far.

"...then those souls you ate Hellwalker, may they rot in your gut and poison you…" The Tyrant gasped, feeling his limbs refusing to work, not sure if they were frozen or severed. The Hellwalker was ignoring him and hefting the horn with one hand, judging it. "False god!"

The Slayer glanced down with an arched eyebrow, snorting back. Why did he care about that?

"No matter what those of… Imorra or the Priests say… you are no Heir… heir to the First…first…fa…" The angry rant was derailed as the group watched as the Tyrant's chest was starting to turn the same white as the part of the Dreadnought he was on.

The Last Gift stopped its song of hunger abruptly, Not only startled at what was happening by watching through the Slayer. The once high class and strong demon was anything but appetizing to the living weapon as Frederic inside got his senses back to more or less go, 'eeew' in the back of the Slayer's mind.

The demigod, not unlike the Sentinels, looked down and made sure to step off any visible signs of being on the decaying titan. But though there was some white dust and death ash on boots, there was no reaction of petrification to them that was happening to the Tyrant. The creeping, chalky white was growing up it's ribs, pelvic and once getting into the hole in the side of its chest suddenly, rapidly covering and pushing through the demon.

Not like burning into the death ash and char, this was different. It was also seemingly very painful as the Tyrant, unable to breath anymore made no more sound but its expression was… afraid.

"Interesting!" Vega chirped, starling those standing just a bit, the drones that stayed with the group moving closer now that the fighting was finished for now. The drone that did not have the medical kit was scanning the now fully petrified giant demon. Formally a giant demon that is, as it was missing most of its legs after all. "It's as if the demon was infected by something."

The second drone was buzzing a scan over each Argenta, following them to be sure nothing could affect them.

To the side the Slayer was looking between the petrified Tyrant, the horns he pulled out and then the Dreadnought. He took another step back, and then pressed the horn he held against the flat of the Last Gift. Just in case, and wanting it to have a nice thick coating of crystal to seal it in. Switching it with the other horn in his subspace. He liked the horns and now that the Tyrant seemed well and truly dead, it was starting to crumble, and the Slayer could think again he was moving over to grab Zanin first to look over carefully. Then despite himself turned a part of his awareness inward, checking on the souls he was hosting still. Making sure they were safe too, nudging to see if they wanted to pass on. It was almost like the feeling of one of his Flowers pressing against his side for reassurance that he was not leaving them while they slept.

They were safe and content, the Demigod did not mind them wanting to hide under his power for a while longer.

He nodded to Haco to show his thanks, for keeping up the image even after all these ages that the Slayer had no one that he was attached to.

…more so now that he did have several somethings (someones?) he wanted to stay safe and hidden from hell.

What happened to it? The Slayer signed, once Vega was finishing the scan and used the first drone to drop a brick on the petrified Tyrant and its head and upper chest collapsed into something that looked like sand.

"It calcified, but it was like an infection that spread from the Titan remains." Vega paused, as his drone was back to scanning in the new opening. The second drone retreated up to where Jade was firmly staying on the wintherin. "I wonder if it works with other demons? The oldest areas of petrification of the Dreadnought seem to be a mix of limestone, and marble instead of the rest of the city stone."

The four on the ground paused, then looked around as if something was missed. The Slayer had to stretch out his senses and scented the air, focusing before walking up the Titan's body, pausing as he noticed a rough line between where it was rotting and petrifying. The Slayer focused on the drone, giving a sharp whistle for attention, grinning a bit as the unexpected sound startled not just his Sentinels but had Viola arching her wings and looking around.

Really, he just whistled, even if it had been a long time since he did it last.

The drone came humming over, giving a soft chitter like those that looked like horseshoe crabs did. It swung around him before lowering to hip level and scanned what he pointed at.

A pulse caught the Slayer's attention, something familiar and known. The Last Gift had a reaction to flair and pulse back before the sole inside drew back as if startling himself. The demigod deactivated the energy blade and hooked it back to its spot on his right thigh. Pressing against the connection to the Last Gift in an attempt to reassure.

Under the helmet, for a moment blue eyes shifted to green. Remembering the feel of the other living weapon. Unlike the stories spread, it was not just a few minutes of time he spent with his old crucible. It had been a long, brutally drawn out battle before he had stepped into that damned divinity machine. It was longer after, Titans from Hell did not fall easily in or out, and one that was a leader class?

When the Slayer noted he had 'been through worst things', he would be thinking of the battle with the Dreadnought and its armies here as one example of 'worst.'

It was not days the battle of Taras Nabad had taken place over, but weeks. From the bottom of the valley to the nesting grounds and then to this upper city.

The Slayer shook his head of the memories and looked up, walking climbing the fallen Titan's chest cavity. It was a strange mix of bone, liquefying gore, that petrification and real stone from the city walls and the semi collapsed section here to his right. The Dreadnought's head was definitely at a strange angle, and for the first time the demigod wondered if it had its neck broken over the ages being left here to rot.

The large crucible gave another pulse as it felt it was chosen again.

It recognized this being despite the changes the Slayer had finished going through.

It was surprised.

The Slayer grunted as his boot sank a little in the red flesh of the crater where the collar bone area would have been in the Titan. Splinters of bone were scattered through the walls of this fleshy crater. He watched the shifting shades of crimson, plum, dark silver and gray in the glowing blade. It was not exactly dormant, as the crucible was still very much keeping the Dreadnought in a locked, so called dead state. He remembered all too clearly what it had looked like before when active. A mix of not quite fire opal and the darker flashes of purple and red labradorite that would move along the blade.

It had sung hot in the Slayer's mind back then. Flowing with the sweet, freeing song of blood and rage and violence so perfectly. Encouraging his bloodlust and desires to end the threats. Constantly reminding him of the tiny young souls crying for protection and the new but ever present threat-

The Last Gift pulsed on its own, not in response but for just a moment there was a double image overlapping reality.

Not of the past but a massive Sentinel kneeling in front of the Slayer, in ancient and blackened armor with streaks like the labradorite in it and burning red shined eyes staring at the Demigod. Not kneeling to him, but to hold the older Crucible in place while resting. There was another, not quite as big as either the Sentinel phantom like image but snarling in that purely human way as he reached up to hit the Slayer on the back of his shoulder. The Demigod growling right back as he turned, in that moment getting a glimpse of familiar features of a man.

Not twisted in the altered 'possessed' state, with both brown eyes glaring. The impression of blue and white, modern human armor as Frederick snapped something about focusing-

The Slayer let go his grip on the older Crucible hilt, feeling the brittle leather wrappings crumbled to dust and exposed the almost black metal under. Stopped by the Last Gift before he removed this one. The Demigod looked up, just able to see a massive pupil rolled down to look back from under the yellowed, jelled and half rotted layer of the Titan's left eye.

The Dreadnought watching the Slayer back. It was dead but not, cursed to be aware through its body rotting away. Waiting for him to remove the blade that held it in this state.

The Slayer could remove the currently ember-like crucible, revive the blade. Free the Dreadnought and have another fight as the Titan commander reformed whatever was left of itself into some new twisted form.

…time to remind the surviving Argenta, and whoever is there, that you are a god…

Valen's words echoed again in the Slayer's mind and memory as the world came into sharp, clear focus. No echoes or phantoms, just the living and undead. The mortal and immortal souls around him.

The massive threat that could not be let free watching and waiting to be freed.

He needed this crucible to cement his old position as war king back. To cull the corrupted Deag, to get his Night Sentinels and Argenta back to… to protect all those tiny little souls. His flowers, the new Argenta, his people. Not just humans but both siblings races to survive-

How can one do the impossible?

"…" The Slayer took a breath and stepped back to the embedded Crucible. Shrugging as it to force all the weight of the tasks ahead off his shoulders and back.

He was not doing the impossible, the overwhelming, an unending curse.

Because it was not impossible.

He had closed the Gates of Hell to his original world, from inside of Hell, and sealed a whole dimension from it.

Hell had banished Him countless times, and he always came back.

Hell would fall because it always fell under his hands and boots and teeth.

The Khan Maykr and her false godhood would crumble because everything would always break under his will.

His people would be safe, his flowers… his family would be kept safe because he was here.

…because I am a god…

The War King- The Hellwaker- The Great Slayer- The Beast- The Outlander- The Unchained Predator- The Scourge of Hell- The Only Predator Hell-

…John grasped the Crucible as he extended his will, it rolled out from him in a wave of heat and power that beat in time with his heart.

The Dreadnought would stay dead, and he would have his old crucible back. The impossibility of it did not matter because he had things to do.

John gripped the now startled Sunwalker with both hands as he let go of his control over his power.

He flexed and then broke not just the living weapon at the hilt, but broke reality as he reared back to stomp the still glowing blade down fully into the Titan's body fully.

The god of death and war let out an echoing roar as his power flexed through reality. Waking up another Primordial being as the Dreadnought rasped a last, strangled sound as the impossible became reality with a Titan dieing outside of hell.

John snorted in satisfaction as he looked at the larger crucible hilt in his hands. Feeding his energy into it freely to keep the weapon alive even as the Sunwalker was collapsing down into its inactive state. More of a coma really but…

He turned to his Sentinels and hefted the hilt up to show them that he had two crucibles now!

Wasn't that cool?!

Excitement!

Added Note: HELLO ALL NEW PEOPLE! I saw you follow Garnets and it made me so happy to see you! hope you come drop by to interact!

reviews!

XFireStoneX: You never miss a chapter! unless I do something like post in the middle of the night because I can't sleep XD

RavenShichiyou: I can not describe how much you made me giggle on my work break reading that. Its far to on the point LOL