Pain and Darkness: Time of Reckoning

Cities in Minstrel on the borders of Midi had never been the most opulent places; their neighborhood country, was little more than a pastoral peninsula, filled with forest, small villages and ruled by a modest monarchy. Closed by cliffs to the rich hand of the sea, Midi used to offer nothing in terms of riches than cattle and a quite landscapes. That until the entire peninsula was smothered by blankets of lava of metal, two monstrous masses of molten minerals had coalesced over Midi, covering almost each square inch of terrain in a everlasting prison. Midi was a place so barren that even plants struggled to find a place to rise, truly a land of dead: a yet, despite (or maybe because of that reason) that Sa'luk al-Tair was heading there to slay.

The man was resting in a inn two days of travel close to the borders, a two-store building squalid on the outside and rather empty of the inside. The innkeeper, an old, porty man, was showering the Devil Slayer with all the praises he could get, singing the qualities of his food, as costumers were commodity rarer and rarer to find in those days. Sa'luk had been already satisfied with a first meal, but ordered a second on the insistence of the patron. He found the food good, but he knew he was not the best person to evaluate the quality of aside: aside of his guildmaster stellar delicacies, he always to tried to keep his diet as frugal as possible, since he didn't want to be pray on the demon of gluttony: his job, no his crusade required him to work always at the best of his power, regardless of the taste of what he consumes in his everyday day.

But the years he passed with Dawn Horizon, in the end, still smoothed the assassin's rough edge: he grew shaver, cleaner, his face looking slightly pale and his eyes less sloven. Finding no reason to wear as a beggar, Sa'luk wore a turquoise tank-top, showing off his lithe yet strong arms, brown light pants; he still kept his typical open sandals, as an assassin must be ready anchor his bare on the ground when to strike. Always blending in his environment, Sa'luk looked practically identically to a Minstrel citizen from the southern reasons, if he weren't from the dreadlocks. His allegiance to Dawn Horizon may have soften his look, but he within he felt sharp as ever. Ready to bite, to strike, to come on the wicked like a scourge from the above and dragging them in the shadow, where their fate was only Hell and Darkness.

"You forget also that you've become a bona-fide bishonen, my dear boy. As that beauty of Lindsay may attest, since she can't quite take off her plump, round golden eyes from your chiseled muscles...."

And there went Cursan, Sa'luk most loyal companion, sealed in arm blade's, always read to devour wicked souls, cast the power of demonic shadows, read minds inappropriately or spew juvenile comments from his mental mouth. The mentioning of the redhead made him blush slightly though.

The ring of the entrance bell captured his attention, distracting him from any witty return he had for his foul-mouthed demon caretaker. The few male patrons all turned their heads almost turned their heads as they were owls as young woman entered in the Inn and demanded something to drink or eat. The innkeeper gave the woman his most displayed reverences before taking orders, leaving her alone on the table.

"My, my, Think of Attractive Women and they doth appear! Would kindly give your boss fianceé your greetings? I don't want her think I haven't taught you good manners, Sa'luk." Suggested Cursan in a rather amused, if not jokingly paternal tone. Sa'luk did not enjoy to socialize a the moment, to busy at thinking of the ways to kill his target, but he surely found the coincidence interesting to say the least. He move close to the woman as waited for her meals, ignoring all the most lustful glances and the comments on the candor of her hair.

"Hi Mizuki . May I ask you why you are here?"

She continued thinking. It seemed like all of this had taken place so long ago. The revelry, the fun times, the madness; such a complicated yet simple story that it was difficult to decide what was the dominant half of the narrative. Regardless, Mizuki had taken the time to clear her head for a bit. Now that she was engaged, the woman had decided to reevaluate some of her past exploits, as monstrous and carnage filled as they were.

Midi was one of them. A joint excursion that resulted in an entire nation mummified, preserved for all eternity in a special mold that she and an acquaintance cooked up. Part of her wondered if she should check up on this old friend. Surely if the years had changed Mizuki they would have changed one of her favorite people. She sighed, wondering if that country remained undisturbed. While it only shared a border with the nation of Minstrel, that didn't mean that adventurous people wouldn't attempt to cross.

Mizu placed her glass down for a bit, her emerald gaze searching the establishment as she pondered how these people would react to such a sight. Sure, they saw as a beautiful, silver-haired woman with dazzling green eyes, but what would their reaction be when that same woman showed gave them a tour of her destruction? She decided their response would be both amusing and worthwhile. For the time being though, she would meditate for the sake of finding balance. Mizuki still hadn't decided how she would break the news of the engagement to her mother. A fact further complicated by the goddess's absence.

It was then that she heard a familiar voice. Cordial enough, but the tension was there. She turned, confirming her suspicions. "Sa'luk," she said as way of greeting, "I could ask the same of you. You don't strike me as the type to indulge in a traveler's whim yet here you are." Mizuki shifted in her seat, sitting for a bit while deciding what to do. Her food was on its way so that would stall conversation for a bit.

Yet she wondered why he was in this exact location, an inn near the border between Minstrel and Midi, grabbing a bite to eat and a place to rest. Did he plan on visiting Midi? She pondered how he would react. The woman knew that he has spent most of his time as a vigilante, killing corrupt politicians and officials while slaughtering criminals and mobsters. Perhaps even doing away with a serial killer or two. Mass-murderers and people with genocidal tendencies could be a problem as well; that is where she came in. She lounged in her chair while waiting for an answer.

In deepest recess of the minds-cape, a chamber of thoughts unknown even to his host and pupil, Cursan sighed. How come the girlfriend of Tetsuya, one of the most sociable person he had ever known in his long life, is drier than a plum left in the desert? Maybe because opposite tends to attract; afterall, he has got to live the last decade in the body of that stick in the mud of Sa'luk. Maybe being brooding does score some points in terms of charm.

Sa'luk placed a newspaper on the table. He had no love for Mizuki, but also little reason to dislike her. She was the woman his best friend loved, for that reason alone she deserved his respect as a guildmate. He remembered, the first time he met the woman, the feeling of a terrible and dreaded strength, a fury boiling silent behind her pale surface yet ready to deflagrate at the slightest provocation. He voiced his concerns both with Tetsuya and Sabrina, both they were ready to reassure him on the loyalty of the girl. Cursan reached the same conclusion, and he never found another reason to be suspicious of Mizuki. Plus, he had an excellent detector in his demon companion, one that can trace the most subtle dangers.

"Look at this girl". He pointed his finger on a photo in the paper. The subject was a woman of Mizuki's age, clad in the robes typical of the high ranking members of Zentopia. Her face was fresh, her eyes pure a golden nugget... to a less experienced eyes. To Sa'luk she was nothing but a sly lioness, feigning harmlessness just to trick her preys.

"Katerina Tenenbaum." He gave his answer. "According to the pious, God-fearing and law-abiding people of Caelum she known to be the honorable cadet daughter of the prestigious Tenenbaum family and the venerable protector of His Eminence Eugene, Cardinal of Caelum. To the non law-abiding people, however, she renowned to be a crazy sadist, a serial killer and torturer, and more, importantly, one of the top brasses in the Dark Guild Black Soul, one of the worst of the country. According to our sources, she heading to the country of Midi, bringing some really potent staff there."

"Yes, I sense a source of energy pouring through like an entire cabal of dark witches on crack during a Sabbath." Cursan participated in the conversation with his unique brand of humor. "Forgive my, Mizuki, If I do not talk with you by assuming a physical form, but I'd rather cause all these nice costumer unnecessary panic attacks and fits of insanity."

Drier than a plum. It was an amusing way to describe her nowadays. Then again, she had toned down on her condescending sarcasm quite a bit and was now almost reasonable. Almost. Maybe it was time to bring back some of that flavor of yesteryear. Mizuki shrugged, reclining just a bit as the buzz of the world faded away for a second. Sa'luk was neither a friend nor a foe, but simply an acquaintance, one that she had spent little time with until now. Yet here they were sitting at a table in an inn.

She peered down at the paper placed in front of her. A slow, deadly smile creeped to her lips as Mizu began memorizing every detail. There was something dishonorable about this honorable daughter. Eyes of innocent, harmonious gold? How many times had Mizuki feigned the harmless, innocent act during her travels in faraway places? Shining emeralds and silver locks, and a slender girl figure. It was like taking candy from a baby, letting villages and guys see what they wanted to see. Something told her this was going to be good. Really good.

"That's her name? Sounds like she's a peach and my type of girl," Mizuki responded. That bubbling, ominous fury that Sa'luk had felt so long ago began building within her once more. Could he fault her for being excited? Probably, but she didn't care. Mizu had spent a fair amount of time in a dark guild before it collapsed from mismanagement. Finding another sadist to confront was something that provoked a list of long lost memories in her mind. Tales of woe, narratives filled with screams and burning agony, stories that would make the Grimm Brothers cringe.

Mizuki found some calm. Now wasn't the time to return to a nuclear existence. She could wait just a bit longer; once she reached Midi then and only then could she truly cut loose. The woman felt an internal itch, something that could only be scratched with the soothing sounds of mayhem. "She's visiting Midi as well? What a coincidence," Mizu noted before adding, "there's nothing to forgive, I assume the other patrons would sincerely appreciate avoiding heart failure. I suppose you're headed there to stop her?"

Sa'luk gave his answer: "Exactly. We do not know why she is there and what is the nature of the dark energy she carries with, but we can be quite sure is not some kind of charitable work. We must stop any bad seed from blossoming. Now that I've answered you, I would like to have you tell me the truth about: why have you come to land forsaken by gods and men and alive. Aren't you supposed to stay with the boss?"

Straight on point and blunt like a mace. Sa'luk could not help but roll his immaterial eyes: if Mizuki was drier than a plump, then dear Sa'luk was a bonafide raisin.

"Please, Sa'luk couldn't you be a bit less direct? An engaged woman has a right for private businesses just like everybody else,you dummy."

Mizuki nodded. "Of course she isn't there for charity. You expect me to believe she is going to Midi out of the kindness of her heart? Let's not be dense now." A grin appeared as she contemplated telling them. "Well we are currently in Minstrel, so I wouldn't call this a land forsaken by gods and men alive. There a decent, god-fearing folk here. Shame about where the dark mage brats are headed though."

With a sigh, her food finally arrived. Thanking the waiter, she began to eat, savoring the flavors that greeted her tongue. Having her fill for a bit, she decided to speak again. "Don't worry your poor little heart child, I'm only there to rest and meditate before returning home to my beloved. Though perhaps you two could use a hand. It would be a terrible shame if her little pussy did you in." There was that snark of yesteryear, one that Tetsuya had sparred with before he grew fond of it.

Sa'luk barely contained a knee-jerk reaction: two asses with a dark sense of humor were too much for him to handle at once. Cursan answered on his place. "Do not worry, my sweet princess. We have been taking of care pussies like that far before Tetsuya took care of yours." If a duel of snark was what she wanted, a duel of snark would have got: the ancient demon had too many powerful women in the guild treating like a stool. He was once revered and feared as living calamity, goddammit! "Maybe it is you should not itch closer to places like Midi; after all, things can be though for a lovely and lonely maiden daring alone in the belly of the beast..."

“Cursan, Mizuki is an S-Class Mage, our direct superior, and she is the one whom Tetsuya everyday praises as a woman capable of kicking his ass. She wouldn’t have much trouble in defending herself.” The assassin stated as a matter of fact, recalling the things his friend used to tell when the two sparred. Cursan was almost foaming: “Sa’luk you have managed to screw yours, Tetsuya, and I's reputation and dignity in one single shot! That’s a Guinness World Record! I’m baffled!”

The sass was exceptional. Mizuki's grin darkened as she indulged some more of food to fill a protesting stomach. "He does a decent job I suppose, but you may need a bit of help in protecting yourself. I'm pretty sure someone saw fit to put a cute little shadow like yourself in a jar for centuries on end. Perhaps you want to revisit that cozy location?" she commented innocently, "Then again, the belly of the beast might remind you of your quaint little home. Surely you aren't terrified of such a quiet landscape with only your own thoughts for company?" She decided to move on as she begin finishing her meal. "So, when are you planning on greeting this group? Surely they'll appreciate a welcoming party after such a long time traveling and we wouldn't want them falling to unexplained circumstances."

Sa'luk’s smile got wider and wider; if snark and quips was the language she and Cursan shared, planning deaths was his bread and butter. "It would depend on the terrain they decide to party. We will make them comfortable for a while, then strike them down when they need excitement the most. It is gonna be a terrific show, a shame that no one would come and see the spectacle."

Sa'luk got closer to Mizuki, seeing in the woman's eye emerald eyes an excitement like his own. Whatever her past was, she truly shared with him and Tetsuya a passion for risky jobs. That woman was one of the very few which expressed genuine interest in his brand of justice: truly something worthy of picking his interest. “I do not know much about the extent of your abilities, but Tetsuya-san speaks nothing but praises about you, so I suppose you are quite the deal. Now, if you want to give me a hand, are you willing to follow my methods to the letter? Trust me, this affair won’t be for the faint of heart.”

Mizuki grin broadened in tandem. "Sounds like dinner and a show. If you keep this up I'm sure you'll find the one," she punched his shoulder playfully while finding a darkened enthusiasm lurking underneath the light-hearted one. A reason to tear someone limb from limb and not have to worry about repercussions? It sounded fantastic, almost too good to be true. What mattered to her was that it was in fact happening, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. "He flatters me. I think you'll learn quickly that the faint of heart is the last thing I am." Her smile was seemingly pure, but for a second, just for a second there was a sign of the furious, foaming monster lying within. Clamoring to free itself. The most beautiful things guard the ugliest secrets.

Darkness and Lava. Force and Finesse. Truly a match made in Heaven, if God does approve of unbelievably brutal prosecutors with a disturbing penchant for violence. But those two young lasses still had to deal with the old host Cursan, who was not pleased a bit from the chemistry between them.

“Don’t count your gross fish babies before having hatched them, you two! I am the eldest one in team, and I can’t stomach the idea of someone less than a hundred times my age and fame dare to even question my power like I was a second fiddle Etherious spawned from some tome stained with snots and chewing gum! Little miss, I am the Cursan, Sultan of Darkness, the Dark Djinn, true bane of the civilizations. I have sunk cities in blackest abysses, brought years of night in the desert of Ishgar! Many of the mightiest mages of old have wasted their lives in their useless struggles against my might! And I should lower myself to work and even take order by a rude little amateur who still wet behind her ears? Never, never, never, never, never, never. Never!”

“You have said ’never’ at least five many times too many, come on!” Salu’k corrected Cursan. Wasn’t he the one who always told the assassin the need of socializing more? Now not only he has met someone in the guild willing to fight for his personal crusade, but was thoroughly enthusiastic to do so. Tetsuya’s woman was becoming more and more interesting as time went on.

Cursan groaned, realizing that his pupil was even more a pain in the ass when was sarcastic. But he had more urgent matters to take care. His mental concentration tuned entirely with Mizuki, so that any communication between the Lava God Slayer would be heard just by the two of them, Sa’luk none the wiser. Years after years of practicing telepathy- there was little to do so when sealed in little more than a bar of metal less than one meter long- has made the old demon a pro in juggling between many canals and conversation. It was something he liked to do: utter and mutual honesty was the basis of healthy relationship with his disciple. But, for the lasses’ sake, he had to step down. “Mizuki, I am asking a very private and important question, and I would be glad if you answer me truthfully.” The wisecrack had vanished like shadow; Cursan words assumed a weighty totally unusual to his tone of conversation. “Do not worry, Sa’luk won’t hear a single thought. Tell me, were you the one who who entombed Midi in divine lava? Please, the matter is urgent.”

Mizuki was unperturbed nor surprised when the line opened up. She sat back as she decided how she would respond to the question. “Surely the matter isn’t that urgent. We are sitting in an inn only a couple minutes removed from the border. You’ll have an answer to your question soon enough. Besides, a little suspense is good for the soul,” she responded telepathically before sipping on her drink.

The woman continued outloud, “I am looking forward to meeting this adversary though, she seems to be a pro at playing a people for a fool. Won’t it be fun to see her expression when she realizes that isn’t the case with us. Oh well. Besides Cursan, you can list hundreds of titles if it makes you happy, none of them will do you any good in a fight. Last time I checked you can’t fight with words in a physical confrontation, unless you’ve learned script magic during these years of freedom.

“Mizuki, there is a tiny difference between using sarcasm and acting like a goddam idiot.” Cursan telepathic ‘voice’, or better, his state of mind was another world from what he was before. His physical body was forever to be locked in a sword, but his mind and eldritch magic from the years he was known as a calamity and a destroyer. “Tendrils” of pure rage flowed from the demon to the woman, an infusion of power capable of sending most mages in an abyss of despair, chopping their minds and then scattering in an everlasting dark.

"What do you know about Sa'luk history? Why is he doing the thing he does) And to whom? He is not like us: he does not enjoy killing people because it provides some moment of fun or to satiate his hunger. He is not psychopath, but a man driven solely by a purpose: and that is to send beasts like you in hell. Don't you get it? How do you think things will be going for you or him once he discovers that you've buried alive thousands and thousands of innocent people just for shit and jiggles? I know him better than the dirty angles of the Sword of Fog: he'll fly in rage, and do everything in his power to murder the hell out of you. The outcome will be one: you or him will suffer a death horrible beyond belief. And I promise you it won't be my boy."

His tendrils slammed into a wall. A wall of madness, carnage, screams and hopelessness. A movie composed of every single massacre or genocide she propagated. Her mental smile was terrifying to behold. “You don’t know me that well either Cursan. If you expect me to die than you will find yourself gravely disappointed. I like living here thank you very much, and it is part of my pastime to destroy complacency. I’m very very dangerous when I’m bored. As Midi found out when my acquaintance and I came calling. Do not make empty threats that will only die on your tongue.” She stretched lazily. “Murder is only murder when you intend to kill. They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, he’ll find out sooner or later. I do wonder how the little monster ministry girl will react. Or maybe she’ll be too dead to find out.” The woman shrugged.

Cursan almost felt himself laughing. Genocide, carnage, destruction? The most she ever destroyed was a bunch of villages made of sheep, as weak as children: it took immense magical power merely to contain him. But perhaps he could not blame entirely on the girl: with a haughty fury Pele as mother, very few people would have turned right. Sa’luk himself was teetering on the edge of the abyss. Cursan he is not sure if he manages to save him, or himself. “’Murder is only murder when you intend to kill. They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time’ This nonsense which Pele has nurtured to you will kill someday. There is always someone higher then you on the pecking order, and, if there isn’t any, you will be still left with yourself, wandering in the void you have created with your own hand. The path of destruction you are widening every day of your life will be your only home, and it will be filled with nothing but lava. No one will ever be there to love you.

And, to anticipate your retort: “but at least Sabrina is my friend, and I and Tetsuya love each other from the bottom of our hearts.” Well, tell me, what a person with a mind and a soul like an active volcano- always ticking, always itching before the big deflagration- does know about love? Love is the most boring thing ever! It means sticking around with people that sooner or later will be driving you mad, hearing them every damned time they need some help, give them nurture, protection, warmth, not blaze. It is about making the menial, tedious job of staying with them every day of life knowing that there will be moments when you won’t be able to stand even yourself. The strong passion you have for Tetsuya, and that Tetsuya has for you, will slowly but surely falter: every fire sooner or later dies. And when that moment will come, I assure, you will come to despise Tetsuya, Sabrina and the beloved friends you don’t even deserve. You will hate the life in your guild, calling it ‘routine’ and ‘chit chat’. Maybe you’ll leave them; maybe they’ll drive you so mental you’ll try to kill them. Or maybe they will dump you first: everyone desires fiery types always willing to explode, but no one would ever live with them. You can't make the sacrifice of putting some fetters on your temper. After all, that was exactly what you mother was not able to do for you."

Mizuki sensed some amusement on his part. Apparently wiping out hundreds of thousands of residents in a country didn't count as a genocide. She tucked away that note for later. However, when he made mention of her mother, a boiling fury enveloped her. "Leave her out of this!!" she roared telepathically. The woman who freed her from slavery, the one who took her in, taught her abilities and almost everything she knew. Yes, she knew something about love, for Mizuki adored the goddess who had done everything for her. Who could have left her to her fate but chose not to. The woman would be lying if she said that she didn't miss the goddess, who had resided within her for so long, only to finally relinquish the last bit, allowing her child to fly free.

Something clicked during that statement. "You forget something about volcanoes, they do not simply destroy, they create. New lands to be tended to, fertile locations from which various entities can rise. A massive eruption is not just an end, but also a beginning. Perhaps a volcano still destroys, but it's aim can change. Instead of destroying all it can destroy enemies. Instead of creating to ease its own boredom it can build to provide for loved ones. Nothing is constant or the same, fires rise and fall and waves flow and ebb. An active volcano can become dormant after finding its peace, creating a world ready to nurture those in its grasp. Do not assume that what is will always remain." her eyes glowed dangerously as a warning.

"That only if the vulcano knows how and when to stop." Cursan's retort came without fail, but the angry demon could not feel but a spark of amusement for this conversation. The last retort was undoubtedly a witty one: and, perhaps, a sign of change in Mizuki’s fickle and uncaring heart. "Don't you know that there many super-volcanoes, wonders of nature whose roars so powerful they can cover the entire atmosphere in ashes? If you can't put a leash, that' s how you are going turn your world: a cold desert of ashes, where nothing can grow from..."

But that philosophy debate had to conclude. The mental conversation between the demon and the God Slayer was fast, a tad more than time it takes for a man to blink his eyes twice. Yet Sa'luk noticed the rage arising from Mizuki eyes, and immediately asked Cursan what was the cause. The Black Djinn interrupted his encrypted conversation with Mizuki and revealed his thoughts to both Dawn Horizon members. "That is nothing. I just told Mizuki than her adoptive mother is a cunt. Something that is absolutely true, believe me."

Instead of waiting for a furious reaction from Mizuki or an even sharper and more gelid remark, it was Sa'luk who acted to stop this endless charade. "Cursan, we have got some monsters to wipe out from the face of earth. We can't waste our time any more in chatter and bickering like toddlers. I am, quite frankly, sick of your shit. So please, Cursan, shut up and let me be the one who talks and the one who takes decisions."

Then he talked to the young God Slayer. "Forgive him. That damned demon's pride too often gets over his head. Returning to us, I'll be glad to have you helping me in my mission. As long as you're willing to follow my lead." Sa'luk was not the type who apologizes often, but Cursan behavior was quite inexcusable. Sarcasm aside, Mizuki's was willing to give them a hand without asking nothing in return; if anything, Cursan and Sa'luk owed the woman gratitude.

Mizuki knew that all too well; her mother was likely the largest super-volcano there ever was. “Don’t decide for me how I should live my life, what happens happens and nothing more. Changes occur from the inside and the outside. It would behoove you to remember that.” Indeed, her fury was growing, starting to build into something tangible. Others in the establishment could see it, beginning to pay closer attention to the conversation that was taking place. Even if all words for the time being remained behind closed doors. So, it seemed due to cut the dialogue short. She stopped.

Prevailing calm was interrupted when he said those words to her. “What did you call her????” Mizu asked, each syllable bubbling and oozing with thinly veiled animosity. “I know you didn’t say that.”

Yet she paused again upon hearing Sa’luk’s immediate rebuke and even rarer apology. It was a stunning moment that caused her to lose just a bit of her sass.

“Fine. Think of me as an assistant on this endeavor. One that attempts to prevent your comrade from doing something stupid.”

"He won't."Sa'luk reassured her. When it comes to work, professionalism was his utmost tenet. "According to our sources, the targets are taking break. Meet us tomorrow at 6.00 o'clock. We'll follow the target and his acolytes until the night comes; at that time, they will stop to rest or to execute her plans. Just don't be late."

Mizuki stood, placing the required amount for the food on the table. She grinned while leaving. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mizu responded before exiting.

A Silent Nightmare
The air was crisp, with a hint of autumn in its breath. The ground glistened with morning dew; a sense of melancholy had returned. Mizuki stood on the border of the two nations, noting the contrast in quiet. One land was filled with a natural serenity born of the changing seasons; the other contained a haunted silence. Even the landscape reflected these differences; the trees and grasses of a lively homeland, while the other contained a world frozen. A time capsule if you will. Mizuki could see her breath as she waited, emerald eyes peering at the land beyond. It remained untouched after all these years, displaying the handiwork of Mizu and her accomplice. Perhaps she would do something with this land one day. For now, she would make sure that it remained untouched, allowing nature to take its course in an effort to repair what had been taken. "Wait for me. I will give you something for what was lost," she murmured to herself as the woman heard the approach of her guildmates.

"Took you look enough, I was suspecting you all had elected to sleep in," she responded as way of greeting. While she knew Sa'luk was the type to be punctual if not early (hence her reasoning for arriving early), Cursan was less so. Centuries of arrogance could do that to a person. Though she thought being trapped in a sword would do something to dissuade such behavior; the woman supposed old habits die hard.

Cursan remained silent, his true feelings bottled in the Sword of Fog. No, he could have told Mizuki that he never sleeps, that he was, in fact, awake in every day of those bloody centuries spent alone in the artifact, with nothing but himself to keep him company. But it would start another endless quarrel, something he was a bit more than tired of. Better waiting instead, for the moment his disciple had realized the utter truth about the real extent of the psychosis of his teammate. Thereafter, he would have made Mizuki pay for her insults and sass hundredfold.

His boy himself was just getting in the right mood for a especially violent execution: before Sa’luk eyes a massacre without compare was stretching, devastation on every angle as far as the line of the horizon went on. No life was spared from the tomb of lava; every tree, every animal forever imprisoned by a malignant force, as there was no volcano in the land capable of such display of force, such magnitude in his eruption. Human hands were responsible for that- or better yet, the hands of a true monster. Should he ever met the one or even the group responsible for this utter devastation, Sa’luk vowed he would have them scream in terror and agony right down to their very cellular structure. Nonetheless, the demons far away were a distant concern: he had to think of those near him, dark mages who had abused of their strength for their own ends, trampling over the life of innocents. Sa’luk did not care at all about what the Magic Council’s law defined a crime or not: it was its negligence and corruption which made slavery possibly at Desierto, Bosco and many other countries in Isghar: but Black Soul actions repugnance to everything that was moral and just was beyond sickening. And in the very places the arms of law and police could not reach, he was the one to administer the due justice on the wicked.

“The targets are headed at seven o’clock. I am perceiving a total of ten people in Katerina mission, herself included.” Sa’luk explained to Mizuki. “However, Cursan clearly perceives the large pool of dark energy in addition to them. Nine life-forces are surrounding it, while one is at the epicenter of the pulse of energy, so we can assume that their moving on a convoy, walking on horses and escorting a large carriage all over. Given their speed of travel and ours, we will reach them when the night approaches. We must not squander our time any longer.”

From his travel bag, Sa’luk took what looked like a medical, buttoned capsule, a device which appeared to be clad in gold, probably made of a particularly shining type of brass. The most unusual thing about the button was as dragon shaped rune, the incision of sinuous serpent very reminiscent of Sabrina’s all-mighty form draconic form. The rune, close to Sa’luk itched has it was reacting the Devil Slayer’s own magical power; when it pushed the bottom, the rune emitted a strong. Sa’luk threw the capsule in an empty space, its luminescence engulfing it whole, so strong the two Slayers had to close their eyes. When the brilliance was over, one of the strangest the device the mage has ever seen appeared in the place of the capsule.

It looked like a carriage, but there was no well or horses. Instead, the device was shaped like the head of an eastern dragon, slender and elegant, big enough to swallow whole roughly four or five people. The dragon head, unlike the capsule it had contained him, truly looked as if it was made of solid, fine golden, a shimmer beauty of a design, with impossibly intricate ruins weaved all over its texture, all shining and responding to Sa’luk mental power. With a sign of the assassin right hand, the dragon opened his mouth; as a tongue it had two lines of sofas draped in red velvet, comfy as they were made for royalty rather than the beggar he always was. Sa’luk had objected many times to Sabrina that this machine was excessively luxurious for his much more spartan tastes, but she heard no argument: for her guildmates and her love of beauty, no expenses ever should be spared.

“This locomotion device was built by Sabrina. Thanks to the runes on its surface, it can capture solar energy to provide for its motion and the maintenance of his inner condition. We’ll use it to fly toward our targets in the inner parts of Midi without being noticed.” The side of the dragon mouth opened letting its passengers sitting comfortably. Sa’luk took the front seat.

“Take your place wherever you want, back and front.” Sa’luk said to Mizuki, inviting her to the comfort of the cabin.

She could feel Cursan's silence. It was almost oppressive; it wasn't that difficult to guess where his mind was. He was furious with her and was no doubt waiting for the grand reveal of this landscape. The whole notion of suffering and payback eluded her yet she found the dusty old shadow's angst amusing. That she could ruffle his feathers so easily was truly a record for her. Most ancient entities would carry on yet Mizu seemed particularly adept at striking nerves. Perhaps she should make a trade out of it sometime.

"So she brought a cohort with her. Whatever is being planned by them is significant if they need that many people. A nighttime arrival means a nighttime raid. One of my favorite types," Mizuki noted as she went as she stretched lazily. Part of her remained duly impressed that two people covered an entire country. Granted Midi was rather small, but it was still visible on a map. Despite the accomplishment, the time had come to make their move. "Shall we be off then?" Mizuki began before stopping. She watched Sa'luk fish something out of his bag. It was then she watched something appear from the small contraption. No longer a small rune of scales, they were instead greet by a large vehicle.

"I'm guessing Sabrina gave this to you. Only she would see fit to embellish something so thoroughly," the woman said while sighing. She made a mental note to not allow Sabrina to plan the wedding. While Mizu was partial to nice things, this felt as if it was a bit too opulent for her tastes. The shimmering gold matched the intensity of the sun, reflecting the rays of the solar disc in the sky with ease. It looked out of place among the gloom, a Pompeii world that was lacking in light and people. Sliding into the yawning mouth of the golden beast, she would be greeted by plush red seats. Taking the back, she would indulge herself by stretching out. "Please tell me this thing has a cloaking function. It's impossible to sneak up on anyone in such a conspicuously bright locomotive," Mizuki noted as she flicked her toes.

However, she would pause from further complaints as she took in the pictures placed around the interior. Accompanying the tasteful yet extravagant trappings were pictures of Sa'luk with various guildmates. Their placement served to give the spacious vehicle a ballroom feel with the finely worked metals and leather that comprised various surfaces. As for the photos, some were amusing as he had a legendary glower that would scare even the hardiest of men. He called it a smile but it promised the destruction of all that was evil. She couldn't help but suppress a giggle. She would likely be on that list soon enough. Peering across, the cabin, she would see even more placed on the dashboard. Some of them included incessant teasing from Sabrina, the flush in Sa'luk's face clear as day when confronted with the ditzy figure. Yet the blush humanized him; it removed the cold-blooded vigilante that would destroy everything in his way. Instead, he appears as a young man who was finally ready to find himself. She could only imagine the conversation that was taking place when those photos were taken. The blush that really caught her attention was when he was placed side by side with Lindsey. A young gunslinger who had recently come into her own appearance wise, it was clear that he had begun to notice. "She's all grown up," the woman murmured aloud, the intentions clear.

Sa'luk heard Mizuki's back pleasantly crawling through the sofa: she was enjoying herself like a cat on her turf, taking all the space she could for herself. He had already one of his hand on the control yoke, a large bone connected to the throat of beast, while his feet were well balanced on the pedal. Touching a button on the of the yoke made the dragons palate falling over the trio, creating the illusion they just had been swallowed by a mythical creature. The sight of wasteland replace with pure gold and all the photos which Sa'luk kept jealously in the cockpit. Sa'luk heard Mizuki's doubts about the functionality of the car, pointing out the impracticability of such fancy vehicles for stealthy missions. The assassin smiled, as he posed exactly the same question to Sabrina the moment he received the car. So, he quelled his teammate's thirst for knowledge with almost the same answer:

"Of course it has one: the runes on texture of the machine are not embroidered just for show. Giving you a technical explanation in detail is complicated, but they are an incredibly intricate spell of Light Magic which absorbs sunlight and generate the same light wavelength all over the car. Therefore, solar energy both makes this thing flying and invisible to the naked. The glyph on the dragon's left eye create a field of Sabrina 's energy which screw up with most magical sensors. Two sound lacrima absorb any noise of this machine while we fly. Essentially, this vehicle might be the only thing better in our guild at hiding than Cursan." The demon/horse remained silent to light jab: better let everything slide and vent off frustration went they land and kill the fuck off the dark mages.

With a light touch of his right hand, Sa'luk made a pentacle near the cockpit glowing gently, the prepared his game of precises pushes on the pedals and fine yoke movements. The machine flew off, but there was only the slightest to indicate that they have left and the ground and were moving free through the terse skies of Midi. The only things Sa'luk was perceiving from the outside world, apparently, was a radar encapsulated in the dragon's right eye socket, bleeping as the the locomotive was reaching closer and closer to them.

"Unfortunately for his machine, while we are invisible to the outside world, they are almost invisible to us as well. The only thing that can guide us to our targets is the radar installed by Sabrina. As such, Sabrina strongly recommended us not to use this vehicles for actual chases on air; it is more suited to close the gap with targets in open space while keeping a low profile." His mind came to photo he had stored in the glove compartment where no one could ever peek his eyes on: Sabrina, Tetsuya and Cursan all looking at Sa'luk with a large eyes worthy of puppies (Cursan's eyes were the largest of them all) and some scribbles below, stating the phrase: "When you drive, please, think about us. Don't run."

"So we ride for the time being. What is the likelihood of them expecting us? While I'm all for the unexpected offensive on our part, I generally hate surprises, unless they're the powerful and challenging kind. Either way, despite the bleak and stark emptiness of this landscape, I doubt they'd expect to run things without a hitch. At least, if they're as bad as you say they are they'd be smart enough to expect some foe could come calling. Just because we're invisible doesn't mean we should be complacent. Not if they're as strong as you believe them to be. Not that I don't love a good dark guild crushing. That they're powerful makes it that more satisfying when I pulverize them."

She stretched out after lapsing into silence once more. The woman watched the scenery pass by below, retaining the same bleakness with each mile. Only the figures frozen in time changed, captured so many years ago without being released. Mizuki couldn't help but ponder what they had been doing before the demise appeared on the horizon. Perhaps they were playing. Maybe they were running errands or going to pick up children. Perhaps they were simply enjoying the day as it passed by. Either way, they would remain as so indefinitely. Part of her was surprised that the land was still untouched after all this time. Perhaps no one had an interest in such emptiness. Maybe they believed the land was cursed by some vengeful god. Did she count in that regard? The woman did not know.

The travel continued for hours, the gilded machine soaring the sky above the cloud without any trouble of sort, but Sa'luk knew that his teammate was right: if the mages below were as powerful and competent as the rumors fancy them to be, it was but a matter of time before getting in some sort of trouble. Predictably, the radar on the cockpit emitted a pulsing noise stronger than ever: a circle of purple energy was almost bleeding from the target, bedecking the space between the Dawn Horizon hunters and their preys almost in their entirety. Sa'luk could almost feel the stench of black magic festering from below, even when shielded by cozy and warm solar magic in his vehicle.

"These bastards have created a powerful sensory field, stretching possibly a mile below us. They still won't be able to trace our machine, but will notice us in the moment we step out from our comfort zone. I suggest to land in a barren place just outside the field, then strike them on foot. Plus..." the light in the cabin changed color: from the comfy golden, he passed to a paler cerulean, a feebler illumination "night is near: the machine does not work well when sun is set."

Sa'luk touched the cockpit against: with another game of friction, the vehicle lowered his altitude with same speed and grace it soared upwards. A faint pop gave the trio the sign they had landed. The cabin opened up, revealing thousand skeletons of tree, darkened in the dusk. Once Mizuki and Sa'luk got out, the Devil Slayer mage raised his hand and pronounced a cryptic formula, words echoing of a different time. That was the instruction Sabrina gave him to shirk the vehicle back, to whom it responded by bursting in a cloud of dust, then turning back in the tiny golden capsule it came from.

Sa'luk turned out: he was lucky to be a Slayer, because the gap between the two group was too wide from human eyes to cover, particularly as night was blurring everything in a hue of blue. Stretching his pupils and making best use of Cursan sensorial powers, he made a quick assessment of the situation.

"The convoy is stopping an open field: there are but few trees or other natural obstacles we can use to conceal our presence even for a bit. Soldier with Zenopia's insignia are patrolling the area, giving their position a 360 degrees of coverage. There is no way we can successfully ambush them physically from this distance, not without being caught..."

Sa'luk sighed and mumbled: with the might of the three of them, going to toe with Katerina or much worse wouldn't be too much of problem; if, there were one (and the waves of dark power, reverberating through the mummified soil, surely seemed to indicate the latter), it was almost surely one they could not hope to strike down unnoticed, not in that terrain. There was, however, an important variable: the soldiers escorting the mysterious cargo. Considering the facade of piety Katerina had created to fool the world, he could not exclude they were oblivious to the true purpose of their master activities, mere pawns brought to keep the masquerade. Or maybe they were just a guilty as Katerina, willingly joining her guise. But...

"''But, you do not know how to differentiate between the two, Am I right?" ''Without any delay, Cursan had to remark the "paradox" of Sa'luk morality: always kill the wicked, always spare the innocent. Quite the difference between his pupil and that mad vixen near him, to whom inflict death was nothing but a fleeting satisfaction. Trumping lesser lives just for the sake of it. Admittedly, she was virtually identical to the who he was not many centuries before, a mad Djinn, a beast who lusted for misery and destruction. Years of solitude and the blessed encounter with Sa'luk have mellowed that edge of personality, but would have done the same for Mizuki? In their heated debate, he could see a dent in her armor of burning remarks, a remorse buried deeper that the layers of lava. But that was far below, too deep perhaps to resurface. Regardless, if the monster inside the girl would have awakened, an indiscriminate bloodbath would have ensued.

"''Precisely. I am thinking of something to get rid of them quickly, without hurting anyone more than necessary". ''Sal'uk entered in a deep and pensive mood. A thought crossed his mind: the perfect opportunity both to cut off the smaller branches in haste, while getting a taste of what made Mizuki an S Class mage of Dawn Horizon, a woman his friend and guildmaster considered even more dangerous than himself.

"Mizuki, listen to me. We have little means to hide; so, a direct struggle is almost inevitable. However, that does not mean we can't take them out by surprise, at least cleaning the table of the weaker ones. Tetsuya always remarked how strong your magic power is, and I can sense it too. So, I want you to create multiple sources of magical energy within their field of perception. If we cannot avoid to be traced, we will overload them with inputs. They'll be put in a state of unease, in the worst case scenario; in the best, they will split up to investigate. I and Cursan will take advantage of the confusion to get rid of the guards. Once Katerina and that sources of energy are left alone, we will dedicate our attention to them.

I do not know what kind of Magic you wield, but if you can localize and hurt Katerina from afar.. that would be a bonus. Only, we must not harm any of the guard, not now. We do not know how many of them are aware of the true nature of their master's activities, if they are. Until we are not sure they are rotten as the sly cat, they must not be killed. Do you understand me?"

Without anybody to hear him, as he had told Mizuki everything she needed to knwon, Cursan erupted in laughter. "The hell she will. She will giggle while the poor Templars's lungs are burning wild. it will be horrid and fun at the same time. A pity we are probably going to kill her before getting our hands to that other psychotic bitch..."

She raised an eyebrow. "A sensory field? So they are expecting company or at least interference. Pity, I was hoping to making a smashing impression. Oh well, there's always next time. Who knows? Maybe they're the complacent sort. They probably expect this field to dissuade people, assuming adversaries are smart enough to see that it is there."

With a casual stir she slinked out of the vehicle before rolling her neck. Her smile was malevolent as she loosened up, cracking her knuckles experimentally as she breathed in the night air. It was wonderful feeling, this silence. Bored, Mizuki listened to his analysis, using her own enhanced eyesight to confirm what he was saying. "360 degree coverage? Well it's their funeral." was her quippy response.

She crossed her arms, seemingly unperturbed by Sa'luk's indecision. For it was abundantly clear the soldiers were a part of this scheme. It was impossible to not sense the abundance and potency of that dark energy that was there. If they couldn't feel that, they were worse than foes; they were completely stupid. They would either die for their foolishness or for their treachery. It mattered not what motivated them to be here. This land belonged to her now and she would not tolerate their presence. She cracked her neck in anticipation.

"Localize and hurt Katerina from a distance? Say less, this land is my oyster," her smile darkened into something inhuman, monstrous in its conception. "A direct confrontation is certain. Nothing about this is the in and out job an assassin like you is used to." The woman patted Sa'luk's shoulder. "Don't worry, I specialize in direct confrontations. I really hate losing which means I have to make sure I know how to win no?"

Five figures emerged from the ground, two males and three females coalescing into solid shapes. Two were brunettes, one was a redhead, another with raven hair, while the last was a blonde. All shared her cunning, madness filled emerald eyes as well as her belittling, demonic smile. "Is it that time already? I was beginning to think you would never call on us, hogging all the fun for yourself," quipped the redhead, playfully poking Mizuki.

"Think of this as a new lease on life. Don't have too much fun though, you're responsible for keeping innocents relatively unharmed. Feeling free to punish the guilty any way you like though," Mizu responded.

"There are innocents in this equation? Who's stupid enough to believe that?" the blonde snapped.

"I bet it's him," the redhead said before jabbing a finger in the direction of Sa'luk.

Five sets of brilliant emerald orbs turned towards the devil slayer. "That is not a wise proposition young one. There is evil in everyone, just as there is good in everyone. What matters is which one they choose to feed. Do not delude yourself into thinking this is a black and white world. It truly exists in large slates of gray," the raven-head warned.

"Enough talking, let's get this underway," the female brunette stated plainly.

"Fine fine, we'll talk later dread-head, have fun on your little vigilante quest," the redhead winked, as all of them disappeared, their S-Class signatures setting up shop around the perimeter, intimidating in size and vicious in nature.

"Shall we start? The night is still young."

Five creatures made of lava; five beings, seemingly capable of sentience and complex thoughts. Creations of the caliber were a prerogative only of the strongest enchanters, or those mad mages utterly devoid to unveil the secrets of life and death. But neither Sa'luk and Cursan could feel any "unnatural" flavor in Mizuki's magic; quite the contrary, the life spread by Mizuki's magic was of the same quality of natural existence, the one who blooms and thrives from warmth and food. If anything, the woman had command over life itself, shaped in a semi molten cocoon. Otherworldly? Yes, but no contrary to the rules of nature. The only word Sa'luk had to describe was "divine". Yet it was no less off putting, if not terrifying: the figures were wise, but also savage. The drive of life they embodied was brute, almost animalistic, hungry for flesh and blood.

"Cursan." The Devil Slayer talked to his caretaker. "Is she..."

"Yep, a fancy Lava God Slayer. This explain the horrible temperament as well. Their mother is Pele, one of the top dogs in the heavenly hierarchy. Never seen a more fickle deity, let alone woman, in my life. Y'know, the kind of person that burns in love for you in one second, and the another wishes to burn you in utter agony. Just as passionate as you, but ultimately cares for nothing but herself".

Sa'luk shrunk in his shoulders: a being who believe in no greater cause than himself, being it a demon or god, was less than dirt in his eyes, worthy neither of his attention nor adoration. But the powers his comrade was displaying surely were worthy of interest, and not just for their sheer display. For using such level of Divine Enchantment, Mizuki was surely a God Slayer of an exceedingly high level. A being, or beings like that were the only ones who could have inflicted such devastation. He wondered if people of Midi had the foolish thought to anger that goddess Sa'luk talked about, and thus received an horrifically disproportionate retribution. Or maybe, some her children were responsible for Midi entombment, driven by a lust for destruction that transcended their mortal flesh.

Maybe Mizuki was the culprit. But that was impossible: how could his best introduce a beast of that caliber in their home? Accepting a bloodthirsty monster as his fiancee? That was ridiculous: the man he respected as his own guildmaster who have gladly died rather died, rather that putting in danger the strand of an hair of one of his friend. He was the one who promised to fight for Sa'luk's dreams, gave him a family. He and Sabrina were sometimes reckless, but were neither evil nor stupid. Plus, as far as he knew, the God Slayer had nothing but the slightest connection with Midi. There was no reason for Mizuki to vent her wrath in this poor land, except pure sadism.

"Whether someone is innocent or guilty, Mizuku, is not something that is actually that easy to assess. Many of the Legionnaires that the Zentopia church recruits are normal humans with no talent for magic, coming that only due to their zeal or need for shelter. Katerina could have brought theme as mere decoy. However, this is something I can verify with relative easy, without screwing up the mission."

Whatever was seething in Muziki's mind, her creation surely embodied part of her psyche. His shadow below stretched in nine direction, all pointing to the guards the Lava creations were baiting. Cursan was in charge of those tendrils, all aimed to take the guards down and draw in his world of darkness. There, he had all the time and means in the world to probe the innocence of their hearts. If the creatures made by Mizuki's magic had overstepped their life, he would have them dragged them too in the blackest abyss.

While Cursan was busy with crowd control, Sa'luk took a deep breath: his Contract invocation rarely involved any words. The power he had received from his Devil tutor erupted from the sword of fog: a fabric of thick darkness engulfed the whole figure of the assassin, his skins becoming an unholy mixture of black and purple, while his eyes were blanked by an hellish glimmer, shimmering even stronger in the depth of the night. Small tentacles of darkness, animated by the raw strength of his powers, kept flailing around his skin, as they shared their host anxiety to grab and squeeze human flesh in his hands until it breaks. He may not possess the power of a god, but devils are just as good to beget terror in mortal's heart.

"You have certainly proven your strength, Lava God Slayer; but now, lets prove your speed. Since we have to tackle them head on, we had the sure duty of presenting ourselves in the best of ceremonies. I want to send Katerina into hell while her pants are still dripping in soil. The swifter we are, the better our assault will work on them. Keep pace with me."

With shadows on his feet, granting each of his step haste, the Devil Slayer sprung forward, closing terrain between his enemies like a cheetah. Air slapped on his face as if he were running against a storm: but the wind around him was dead, immobile as the land itself. Sa'luk was the one hungry for fresh air, hungry for new preys. He was not a man for sitting in vehicles that make the chase for him: running from cliff to cliff, parkouring through every steps in sordid cities, that was the true way of his life. On his feet, he had perfect control over his motion. Perfect balance and blinding speed: the secret behind any great assassin.

Her expression revealed her amusement following Sa'luk's transformation. If anything, her grin twisted into something maleficent. "Are you sure you're a hero vigilante? You look quite a bit like a monster greeting more monsters. Perhaps you're putting it in a language they can understand," she cooed. The woman remained untransformed. After all, there was no need to change her appearance when she was already home. She laughed lightly when he called her by her magic. "Now you know little one."

She snickered when her challenged her to a game of chase. It was reminiscent of a certain guildmaster's wounded pride, having lost to a certain lava-spewing girl so long ago. "How quickly time passes" she thought to herself, feeling the earth shift under her feet. Ready to aid its mistress at a moment's notice, forming a path that would prove helpful to her need for speed. As soon as Sa'luk moved she moved with him, remaining stride for stride as they hurdled towards the barrier and the enemies that lie within. Mizuki could not help might remain duly impressed if unsurprised by his pace. Quickness was invaluable in the assassin's trade; it decided the line between success and discovery. So she continued to run beside him, teasing out a bit more speed with longer strides.

Meanwhile, the redhead waited at her chosen destination. Sure enough, her boiling presence drew guards like flies, as did her warm smile and disarming appearance. She heard their huffs of surprise at this turn of events. Yet her eagerness to play with their lives crawled underneath the surface of her skin. She wasn't a pretty little thing but a predator with prey in her crosshairs. Small traces of fire warmed her fingers and figure, yet she managed to stay her hand. Barely.

The others were more of the same, watching and waiting as they let their magic slink across the barrier and upwards, pulling needed guards in their direction. Springing traps as they watched and waited as the first mistake was committed. Each wore their own forms of disarmament, the females running the gamut from pretty to beautiful while the males were the ruggedly handsome and trustworthy types. Another layer of carefully woven lies.

Opening Act
A deathly grin contorted her expression of innocence. The honorable cadet daughter was no more; true colors shining through as she sensed the intruders. "Looks like we have some company after all. Honestly, I'm happy they came, everything going off without hitch means no one to kill." She drew a weapon that glowed faintly for a second, armed with a nasty surprise as the screams started. "Trouble, shall I go deal with what those putrid brats couldn't my lord?" Kat asked, spinning a second sword experimentally. She could feel even stronger presence bearing down as it pushed through. No, there were two of them, each massive in its conception. Both of them carried entrails of darkness however. One even warmed her heart with its prevailing madness and lust for carnage and bloodshed. "Maybe we've found a new recruit," Katerina thought as she ran to greet them.

"''Oh... I sense it..." ''A whisper echoed in the read headed woman. Buried inside the coach the Legionaries were so jealosuly guarding,locked a van blocked with steel locks and runes of poisonous power, lied the source of power which drew the assassins like bees toward honeys. It was no mere artifact; if that was the case, it should have been an enchanted monstrosity corrupted by unimaginably powerful and deranged mage, as waves of darkess and malice crept through the thick walls and curtain. They spread over the caravan. Whatever was inside the coach, it was alive, and thirsted for blood and carnage as much as its wicked protector, if not more so.

"Dear Katerina... I can smell the stench of one of my old friendsss. You'll recognize the target from a sword embroidered on his forearm... kill him, bring him away from me. But let the other come to me, the one blazing with lusst for desstruction. Her heart is just as rotten as yours, and her power is sstupendously destructive. I want to greet her... in person. She would make a wonderful assset for us."

The pulsing of power, was not unknown to Sa'luk, monitoring each reverberation of dark power. Even without Cursan direct assistance, he had a unique affinity for all that lurks in dark, mad thoughts above all. And he was prepared to match them blow for blow with his own inner demons, overpowering them in sheer power and terror. Maybe Mizuki was right to call him a "monster". But he knew that the people he was facing deserved one; in fact, certain monsters require their fellows to be slayed down.

He soon got to meet one of the two source. It was the smaller one in terms of power and lithe in figure, yet carried a massive shadow of wickedness. Katerina Tenenbaum was running toward him, her feet burning with friction: from the blur that engulfed their length, he deduced she was an Enchanter, boosting the natural abilities her body was already blessed with with the might of her magic. Already gone was any pretense on the Legionnaire part of maintaining a trace of decency: had she smiled a little more, her cheeks would have been split up from the sheer contraction of her facial expression, a visage that even an hungry cheetah would have found gluttonous and distasteful. A grin Sa'luk found all too similar to the face of Mizuki, a pretty face contorted in the visage of a demon, even if that of Katerina was far more unabashed.

If Katerina lusted so much for blood, he would have gladly granted her wish, simply by suffocating the Legionnaire in her own. Despite the extraordinary character of his assault, Sa'luk was an assassin first and foremost, one who mastered the ability of throwing enemies off balance in even the most unlikely predicament. Sa'luk dashed further against Katerina, so to let them run further in a physical brawl: her enire body was cracking with energy, gaining momentum as a rock tumbles down from the side on a mountain. But landslides are born because falling rock cannot stop themselves, ending in ruinous whacks. Sa'luk took his time, calculating the microseconds he would have sided behind the Dark Mage, toppling her down from below. As he was almost inches from Katerina's double weapons, one engulfed with flames, the other oozing a foul substance, he gave himself a mental command:

"Darkness Devil's Steps."

Entering in the ground below, becoming one with a depth with no light. Sa'luk moved no more one air, but crawled on the ground, one with the shadows, immaterial yet lethal. Dusk was making things easier for Sa'luk, as his own dark trail was blurred in the fading sun, becoming more difficult to trace without specific means. He was sure the Legionnaire had the means to locate him, if she really was an Enchant of even moderate caliber: however, magic like that requires time and concentration. He was too fast for enemy already too busy stumbling on her feet; his own shadow had fused with Katerina's own, anchored on the woman.

From the world below, where Sa'luk was master, he could perceive everything; he saw Katerina's feet crossing one another as she tried to put her charge back in rein, he heard her grunts as she just missed the prey she savored that much. To not be rude, he launched while in his contract on of his Scorpion Tails, a black tendril of unusual power, tailored to crush knights in their armors, thick enough to survive moderately powerful bursts of dark power. The Devil Slayer seized Katerina's right leg, just as her Enchantment was slightly weakening. Still in the world of darkness, still in her shadows, he twitched it, using her own rotula as a leverage. Were Katerina frail as she looked like, he would have snapped her knee in half; but even it probable eventuality of an high level of durability from the girl, the tug would have surely sufficed in throwing her on the ground.

A girl ran toward them with a smile that warmed Mizuki's crooked heart. Sadism poured out of her waves, as the stench of Enchantment reached Mizuki's nose; she was all too familiar with the scent after being in its presence for so long. It was a part of her repertoire after all. As Sa'luk disappeared, she veered off ahead, making a beeline for the pulsing, slithering mass: contained for now. Darkness, madness, and unencumbered malice poured from the container in waves, producing a level of fear that could stop hearts. Mizu knew countless others would have fallen into deep-seated despair. Yet for some reason her smile grew impossibly wider. The sentiment produced felt welcoming, even as her guard went up; she had no interest in being seduced.

Once reaching the destination, she came to a sudden stop. "What is it with you ugly deviant things locking yourselves in containers? It's really cliché; something I really, really hate," Mizu responded. Heeding their mistress's call, lava entrapped the structure, snapping the vehicle like a twig. Each lava tendril flexed as the container was splintered into nothingness before retreating to Mizuki's side once more. "Well, are you going to come out in play? I'd hate to think I came all this way for nothing. It's rude to stroll into someone's domain and not bother to entertain them," she continued, malevolence simmering in her glowing green gaze.

Elusive prey. How troublesome, yet Katerina found cause to be excited. "Come out come out wherever you are," she persuaded, slowing down for a second as she decided how she would approach next. Yet suddenly Kat was falling, a silent and unforgiving ground rushing to greet her. Instead, she placed her hands out, concentrating Enchantment into her palms as she executed a compromised handstand. The young woman could feel whatever thing on her leg continuing to pull her. A popping sound didn't prove reassuring, yet adrenaline dissuaded her concern. "Are you just going to hide all day? Weakling. Can't even face a girl head on. Are you that afraid of getting your ass whipped?" she spat, wrenching her leg free through exertion and a greater concentration of enchantment in the ensnared section. Back on her feet once more, she circled the area warily, noting the attack came from below. Her red gaze flicked across the dark surface of the ground, watching and waiting. Suddenly, she stabbed a part of the ground with one of her swords, the flaming construct driven home into a piece of shadow.

The blonde could contain herself no longer. Eyes glittering like the night sky, she would turn the first soldier into a conflagration, clamping down on his frame with a single hand as she cooked through clothes and flesh in seconds. His scream was music to her ears. "Are you innocent or guilty little soldier? Think carefully now; a dishonest answer could be the death of you," she whispered into his earlobe, her breath teasing out little, searing flames. He wailed again. "Now now, that's not what I was looking for. I'll ask you again, did you or did you not know? Surely you aren't that dense that you had no idea what cargo you were moving," the blonde said, a chester cat smile present.

Heat sprung in the darkness of Sa'luk abyss; just as matter and energy could come from it, the right puncture could brighten the black emptiness with surges of energy. The magical attack used by Katerina was powerful, a fire tongue which would have easily crisped human flesh. Unfortunately for her, Sa'luk Contract had provided him with a brand new skin of darkness, a mantle which absorbed and smothered most the energy. Even more unfortunately, Katerina did not think of binding the shadows to his fire attack to his magic; that was a skill that a master in the enchantment art could certainly perform, but required a different kind of ingenuity and imagination than conjuring tortures upon tortures, Katerina's one truly use of magic. As such, just as Sa'luk could move his own shadow at will, he moved Katerina's own possessed shadows just a bit, rotating the carpet of darkness as is opponent was a sundial. Just in time to avoid the brunt of her power, and just in the perfect position of delivering a counter attack.

Sa'luk did not waste any time; the first thing he pulled from the curtail of darkness was not a knife, but a a strange pillow, one which he filled with pepper power, which he thrown straight on the Legionnaire pretty face. That a was a perfect move to discombobulate seasoned swordsmen, trained to defend themselves by reflexively slicing everything coming at their vital spots. With her feet still bound on Sa'luk shadows, she had no choice but taking the pillow on his face or cutting it, letting the concoct burning her pretty face and sly eyes. This own torso emerged from the trail of shadows, Sa'luk's ghastly visage partially covered by the pillow. His right hand one was read to deliver a deadly thrust, his Sword of Fog ready to carve in the Legionnaire's body; the weapon oozed a black liquid, a unholy mixture Sa'luk himself fabricated with Barrier Demon Particles and viper snake. Just to make the most insignificant scratches a paralyzing agony.

Cursan, in the meanwhile, was not as lucky as his partner. Mizuki surely did not go light in imbuing her sadistic children with considerable amount of magical power. Nothing that would have worried the slightest the Djinn when fighting at his top shape. But he was busy at splitting himself in six directions, each of one requiring a lot of energy from his already diminished form. Restraining those little beasts from causing mayhem, the one overwhelming instinct they shared with their creator, was far from easy. He had coiled around four of them, leaving alone a fifth raven- haired one, who was reasonable enough to knock out the opposing guard without roasting him on sight. They were jerking and shouting like unruly children, sending glimmers of heat from their body. High temperatures did not scare Cursan's immaterial shadows, but that fire came from powerful magical source, a natural enemy of shadowy nature, making everything more difficult than it already was.

"Truly sharing the nature of that sociopath skank of your mother, aren't you?" The demon whispered on the ears of most of the lava creatures. "Has nobody ever told you that people do not tend to give accurate answers while they are too busy screaming for fourth grade burns?" Of course nobody told them: magical constructs were nuttier than a basket-case on fire most of the time. One of them, a pretty blonde, was already relishing in her work a devastation. A templar was twitching and shaking in agony on the ground, lit like a candle. Above him, the lava woman stood crouched as she bombarded the guy with questions about his innocence. Of course, like hell she believed or cared in the man's innocence. She was just delighted at seeing him burn to a crisp.

Also, the blonde was not considering a particular factor, something very easy to pick for such a skilled sensor like Cursan: the burning man hadn't a single shred of magical power within his body. There were many lowly soldiers like that, many grunts who joined Zentopia for a chance of better life. Some did it driven by faith: others desired financial stability. Those Legionnaires were all pawns, all likely oblivious of the true horrors their masters were to unleashed.

Other tentacles of darkness were coming through, emerging from Cursan multi-faceted shadow. They envelop the enemy body not strangle or suffocate him, but to smother the mangling fire. Little he could have done to mend his bone, but at least that would have stopped the man from dying of burns. One eye popped from the shadow: a cranky mouth came talking to the woman made of lava.

“''You, listen to me. He is no mage. I sincerely doubt he could have felt an iota of the magical poison that pool was seething truth. He had been brought there just to make the ruse more convincing. Believe me: Nyblord is a pompous fool, but he is not stupid enough to bring actual guards who cannot wield magic''.”

The blonde stopped. She spat on the ground before responding. "You're no fun shadow breath. Slinking around as if you're oh so important. Do you want to know the last time I enjoyed the open sky and fun? A long ass time ago. So excuse me for trying to enjoy myself," the blonde snapped at the cranky demon, her tone full of venom. The guard whimpered. "Though to be honest he's boring. I have no interest in pitiful males." she commented, striding away with a flip of her hair before sitting down. No longer steeped in bloodlust, she picked up the distinct lack of magic. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "How long is mom going to take anyway? This Nyblord trash is probably weak as shit, I kind of feel bad for her."

The redhead broke away from the shadowy tendrils with a burst of magic energy, taking advantage of Cursan's divided attention. "Don't you dare call us that you shadowy tramp, you act like you're Mr. Purity. Bitch please, you're as malevolent as mom if not worse, so stop with the highroad bullshit," she retorted. With a single clock to the head, the nearby soldiers fell like stones to the ground, out cold. "You act as if all we do is kill and burn."

Katerina coughed as the pillow was thrown in her face, instinctively slicing it to pieces as it closed in. She screamed as the substance hit, springing forth from its ruined container. At the same time Kat realized that her feet were tied up once more. She tried to moving them. No response. Her cocky, sadistic fury began to diminish as she attempted to clean her face on the inflaming substance. It didn't work, as spreading it made things worse. The legionnaire shut her eyes, plunging her already compromised vision into further darkness. Steadying her rapidly-beating heart, she swung outward blindly, several times, each one stronger and more desperate than the last. None of them hit anything. While unsurprising, it brought further panic. She struggled to free her legs, writhing violently in a bid for mobility. "Damn, damn, damn," Kat uttered. Then the first strike hit, a small slice piercing her. Yet it was enough to rip another scream from her throat, her sword hands beginning to shake as she swung downward in an effort to hit something. Anything.

Cornered preys are often the most dangerous, but Sa'luk assault wasn't just aimed at hurting Katerina: he broke her fangs, shattered her sense and dissipated her resolve. Ravaged by fear and poison, the Legionnaire was growing weaker by the second, each of her useless slashes less focused than the one before. The time to go toe to toe was ready. Sa'luk penetrated Katerina's guard after a particularly sloppy thrust; he greeted his opponent with a jawbreaking elbow infused with a strong surge of darkness, hitting the woman slightly above her throat. He connected to that a twisting hold on her left arm, a painful chocke wich brought Katerina powdered face dangerously close to the darkness below.

"Darkness Devil's Slash." Sa'luk roared for the first, to let his opponent finally understand what true demon she was facing. In his Contract state, the dark power which surrounded his fist was always massive, even when compacked, heavy like a demolition ball. He thrusted fully on her left elbow, the weight of blow descening over the armored joined. Without the fortitude of her magic to protect, it cracked with screeck, broken bones clashing with metal, the screams of the woman nearly overcoming all. With the strength of her grip rendered null, Katerina's sword felt in her shadows. In which she disappeared almost instantly; by puoring his pure magic onto the medium, he had trasformed the girl shadow in an hungry, pitch black chasm.

But Sa'luk was not content to let just Katerina's weapon fall in the abyss. He grabbed the lump of her arm, and drew directly in the black pit. There the force of his gravity engulfed the woman's forearm, which was trapped just like her fists. Sa'luk threw an explosive punch on her fist aimed at her nose; on that, he felt the warm and the stickness of Katerina's blood, burning with viper venom. One moving limb remaind to the Legionnaire, jerking around aimlessly but less and frantikly. Smiling, Sa'luk took care of this last problem by simply grabbing it and forcefulling dragging it in the pit. Little effort was required to bring the Dark Mage bowing to the assassin. She was all fours, the lowly animal inside the beautiful shell finally brought on the surface. The effect of the spicy powder was to fade; Sa'luk waited for it, as his defeated prey had to look at her executioner, the bringer of justice, before dying in pain.

While Sa'luk was thriving, his demon caretaker struggled. The children of lava were unruly, impatient and remarkably powerful for mere golems. The readhead managed to burst out of his grass, and was using its magic to deal with the guards. Fortunately, Mizuki had the common sense of endowing her "child" with magic of other type that just setting things- living or not- on fire. To fulfill his duty, Cursan knew he had to act more diplomatically, sending a "cease fire" to his unruly companions. If the lava had inherited from their mother the sass, however, that strategy would prove to be almost insurmountably difficult.

"Ok, listen to. It is true: I love to engorge myself on the blood and flesh of corrupt as much as you do. Believe, screams of evil doers are like the musical pair for the perfect buffet to me. But even among scum like us there is a bottom line, a threshold which separate mere "brutal" beings like me from the psychopathic assholes we are fighting. Me and Sa'luk have got standards, some level of principles: and those principles compel us to never harm anyone unless were are certain of his culpability. Sure, we are merciless, and implacable: but we do not hush in our judgment. Not much of a moral high ground, I concede, but certainly something. Certainly more so than just kill and carbonize everything on sight.

''Do you want to prove me you are above the lowest of the low? Well, act like that. Take a breath, and give reason a chance. Regardless of my epithets, you are sapient beings, not brute forces like the flow of lava. You possess control over your action. Well, at least two of you have a semblance of it". He referred to raven- haired one, the first to stop, and the redhead. "I have no intention to oppose to you more than necessary''".

His attention got to the twins Cursan he had still coiled in his grip. He had sensed already something bizzarre from the guards they were dealing with. Lingering of magic of the darkest kind, stench of necrotic power not too much different. Mizuki and her prole weren't the only rotten thing shrouded in holy clothes or pretty semblances. Cursan clearly perceived a transformation below the robes, flesh rotting and exuding miasmas. Possibly, they were already dead, experiments brought by Nyblord shuffled in the more innocent mix. Or maybe just acolytes a bit further than most in following their flesh-less master. Regardless, he unleashed the twins for the ensuing removal. Cursan loved moral rottenness: putrefied meat disgusted him just as your average human consumer.

"And, about Nyblord, blonde one". He assessed the most rambunctious of the bunch. "He is ''a madman, a moron, a styless hack with the lack common sense of your average mad scientist and lack of style and originality of your average centuries-old lich. But weak, alas, is the only insult that does not suit his decrepit person". '' The pulsing of dark magic brought an ancient memory in Cursan's mind. An age of empires sprawling over the desert, built by ungodly powerful magic and fed by rivers of blood. A menace, a mad king who commanded legion of spirits, stripping away the life of his victims with the snap of his fingers. Nyblord, Emperor of Settra, King of Necromancers, Holder of the Keys of Heaven and Hell. For Mizuki, truly a match made in the harshest and most remote region of Hades. A temptation, possibly, for Mizuki to find a kindred monster, throwing aside any semblance of decency and join the Lich decadent's cohort. Things were getting certainly interesting. But messier, bloodier and darker than the demon had ever imagined.

She couldn't think straight anymore. All that remained in her mind was pure, unadulterated terror. It grew worse with each second as she lost hold of one sword. She screamed as she heard bones snap one by one. Terror had new company in the form of blinding pain. She roared as she felt yet another impact, this time directed at her nose. The young woman felt shadows beginning to devour her appendages; a whimper escaped her choked throat as she was forced on to all fours. "Don't. Please....I'll stop, I'll go back and never involve myself again. Just please, let me go," she begged. The powder began to wear off, the woman realizing she was surrounded by inky, pitch black shadows. Kat screamed again, this time seeing a face emerge. The shadow user. Her heart stopped as she deciphered the features. "No...noo....please I'm begging you!! Let me go!" she pleaded, feeling that would be to no avail. His face was murderous, filled with vindictive self-righteousness. Another whimper escaped her throat as she attempted to back away, only to be held fast by his shadows, her appendages completely engulfed now. She was forced to stare at him, any courage relinquished as saw him rise.

The blonde began laughing. "Standards? Are you kidding me? You sound like one of those lawful evil types who are like: Yeah, I destroy people and villages, but at least I don't dispose of the children. As if that means anything, all that means is you are leaving orphans to a cold and cruel world. Filling their hearts with thoughts of revenge and retribution. You're better off killing everyone at that point, save them the trouble, save yourself the trouble. Saying you have standards....that's just so you can sleep at night. You're right that's not much of a moral high ground; hell, it's virtually non-existent."

The brunette male's head snapped towards the guard, sensing the same disgusting stench that Cursan was registering. "They aren't normal human guards. You seemed ready to spare zombies that should already be several feet under ground," the brunette male stated, his voice cold. As soon as the guards began to rise, they received a face full of scathing lava, from the still restrained male, the torrent ripping through clothing, flesh, bone, and muscle. Ashes were all that remained, until even that disintegrated into a pile of ash. "Weak."

They would then be released, the female doing more of the same, exterminating every ounce of the zombified guards' existence to make sure absolutely nothing remained. "Leave nothing behind," the brunette female hummed in sing-song fashion, a motto that the twins abided by. As did the blonde. The redhead was the one that responded to Cursan's final comment. "So he's a disgusting old hag. Mizuki would never fall for that, no matter how tantalizingly evil he is. At the end of the day, he's an ugly peace of shit that she doesn't want to see on a daily basis. She prefers devilishly handsome men like Tetsuya, sinfully attractive and the kind that keep her up at night for all the right reasons. That reminds me, when this is all over Sa'luk and I need to have a talk. As a fellow redhead, I must admit Lindsey is pretty attractive. If he refuses to admit his crush on her I'll be happy to sweep Lin off her feet. Teeheehee," she commented before snickering.

Cursan sighed again; perhaps the blonde was right, and he was only an hypocrite who masked his blood-lust behind the most see-through veneer of justice. But children who have experienced can still rise above their pain, walking toward a better future. Had he reasoned like that, Sa'luk would have spent the rest of life as less than stray dog, beaten to the ground by his master. And something suggested that Mizuki was cut from the same cloth: Pele was not the one who liked pampered children or unremarkable orphans. However, discussing with that foul headed was not of use. He sunk down the burned man in shadow, culling him in an enchanted sleep. He could not do much to tender his horrid wounds, but he did not have time to think of it. A greater challenge was to come, one that required every inch of his strength and cunning. Besides, at least the redhead was totally on point: Sa'luk really needed to open up and get freaking laid.

Like Calls to Like
Standing tall above his prisoner, Sa'luk could almost smell her utter dread. His black tendrils slowly caressed the tender face of the Legionnaire, each of them feeling the chill and shivers crawl on her skin. A beautiful and sadistic thing like that, totally at his mercy, totally impotent. Sa'luk was at the peak of his performance, truly demonstrating the woman why ruffians and slavers in all Desierto were creeping every night in their bed, fearing every shadow as the harbinger of the Boogeyman. Terror was the greatest weapon in Sa'luk's arsenal, the signature of his brand of justice, the culmination of all his holy mission, the essence of his demonic nature.

The woman begged and crawled, cried in horror. Sal'uk could not enjoy that more. His only doubts concerned the best method of sending this blasphemous monster in the hell she sprawled from it. He could obliterate her upper half with a roar so potent to make the sky above tremble. He could have ripped his head apart with the increased gravity of a well-placed punch, in what remained on her once porcelain nose. He could have done so many things...

Sa'luk tendrils of darkness, as if responded to their master desire for pain, ascended from Katerina's cheek through her nose, while engulfing her mouth, transforming all the woman's desperate pleas in mutters. The searched for holes to fill in, between her teeth, tongue, and the blood lump he had in the face. He was the woman was feeling the dark snakes violating her, reaching deeper part of her cerebellum touching directly her grey matter. Katerina's pupils bounced around her eyes, as all her thoughts were becoming a total, frantic mess.

"Pathetic". Sa'luk sneered. "You have desecrated your holy orders, covered all the most sordid activities, killed and tortured hundreds of innocent people just to satisfy your perverted lust... and you can't even die with dignity".

A snap echoed within Katerina's head. The tendrils had grown sharper, piercing the inner of skulls, clawing their way through the soft brain. With another, suffocated sound, they returned to their master. As a gift, the brought more than few pounds of cerebral matter, which Sa'luk threw away in disgust. Katerina was lucky that Sa'luk had more pressing matters; had he more time, he would have scalped her brain inch by bloody inch.

She rolled her neck. It sounded like things had quieted around the location. She assumed the guards were either out cold or dead and the power little heathen girl had met her end. Mizu shrugged. "Well? Are you going to come out? It's not nice to keep a lady waiting you know." she noted, her emerald gaze filled with manic glee. Hopefully this individual wasn't as pathetic as the others. If they could be beaten so easily then she had no idea why Sa'luk was so angsty.

She cracked her knuckles as the cart broke into pieces, Mizuki waiting for what she assumed would be a grand appearance. If the presence was that ominous surely a memorable entrance would be liable to follow. At least, she hoped so. Part of her felt antsy, she had been away from battle too long for her liking. Even if Mizu enjoyed this new blossoming relationship and the flourishing love that manifested behind closed doors. She decided that any energy not spent confronting this wench would be used when she returned to her betrothed's arms. Mizuki hoped he was ready for what awaited him. The godling refocused, sensing a stirring among the mass. "Decided to finally come and play?" she whispered, a previously disguised sociopathy creeping into her tone.

Still shrouded in the fumes of the burning carriage, the malicious thing- or better yet, the King of Necromancers himself- greeted his new playmate not with a fancy welcome, but a radiation of pure malice of such strength to dump water in every direction, as it was just a big rock threw in pull. A translucent dome protected his persona as the container before, now broken and useless. The old lich was floating a good two feet above the ground, clad in the most elegant purple robe he could find from his rancid coatroom. A withered corpse muttered, clung in his grasp. The Cardinal of Caelum, as useless and pitiful he was in life for his deference to imbecile gods, had,at least, provided a good excuse for Katerina to travel all around Ishgar, sprinkling curses instead of benedictions.

With the death of Katerina, his cover was over. The girl had served him well, but was not worth in wasting his effort. A cat in a world of mouses, nothing more. What Nyblord was looking for was a lioness, a true natural predator. The girl in front of her had both the natural power and cruelty to spare, a far more powerful Mage than the Legionnaire would ever have dream to be. He could almost intoxicate himself with the amount of raw and lust for the destruction she was emanating. But there was a foul aftertaste; the blessing of otherworldly beings, those Nyblord, a long time before, and wrestled to obtain domain over life and death.

"A God Slayer... yet a kindred being..." He thought. His skinless face, responding to magic beyond unnatural, managed to twist in a horrid smile. That was truly the prelude for a clash to remember. One that would this dead land ablaze himself. Nyblord middle and index joined together, pointing at the chest of Mizuki; sparkles of dark magic already dazzled through the air.

"Dark Capriccio".He raised his voice. An enormous burst of dark power, energy shaped in unholy purple and sickly blue, burst with tremendous speed, drilling his way through Mizuki. By sheer size alone, had she been a two-bit mage, it was more than enough to rip the girl's figure into tiny shreds.

Her lip curled into a devastating smile. It could draw even the most optimistic into a never ending pit of disappear. She savored the palpable taste of the Necromancer's malice; it made the foolish girl's sadism appear negligible. Her own cruelty rose en masse, her creations feeling it acutely as the woman roared. Yes, Mizuki was a lioness once. But those were the days of a child. Now, she was far greater. Having someone to play with after so many years of amusing herself was the likely culprit. Then again, he was in good company. As the Dark Capriccio bore down on her with vindictive glee she roared again, this time unearthing a lava bellow that dwarfed the landscape, clashing head first with the dark mage attack. Her mother would be proud.

She was on her way to becoming a god. To join her mother and surpass her. It helped that the pesky little dragon slayer she knew was continuing to train. She smiled around her breath attack; he was a petty individual who finally gave her a reason to fight. A reason beyond her own rapturous love of carnage. A living skeleton would not last much longer if he expected to impede these convictions.

As terrific displays of power go, that wave of lava surely was surely nothing to scoff at, certainly on par with the breath of some true volcanoes. For Nyblord, however, it was nothing than an oversized splash. Instead of colliding against the mass, his own spells coiled around himself, gaining the head of a snake. The upgraded dark Capriccio slithered through the air, raising above the fiery sea; it rushed to Mizuki's with terrific speed, worthy of true Mamba. To defend himself from the bellow, Nyblord simply waived his hand: a pulse propelled him afar from the lava's grip. Power itself, against the craft and the ingenuity of true master, was more often than not completely useless. Nyblord was a genius in the art of spellcraft: could waive spells like that as they had a mind on his own, constantly chancing their motion. Could the God Slayer do the same?

Lava was more than just something to be thrown; it was something to be used and exploited. The lava coiled around the pulse, simply viewing the nullification as a detour. It was unrelenting in its pursuit, the desire to turn bones into ash so thick that it was pungent. A fiery sea indeed; it was hers to do with as she saw fit. Other tendrils rose from the coalescing mass, rising to greet the newly upgraded dark capriccio. It was dark magic, but at the end of the day it could be caught just like anything else and devoured in kind. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but smile, feeling a part of her come alive once more. A cruel, maleficent part that asked why she had been ignored for so long. Lava tore into the upgraded Capriccio with reckless abandon, lions feasting on a kill.

That was certainly interesting, far more than Nyblord ever expected. The savagery on display was obvious the moment he tasted the girl magic trace, but to think she could have dealt with his counterattack by applying the same principles, that he did not foresee. Either her skills were immense, or she had poured her very rotten soul in her fiery creation; both possibilities were most intriguing. Very few mages in the modern, decadent, era had given the necromancer such trouble that he could not simply crush with a waive of a single hand.

However, it was way too say for casting the true power of his brazier. To dispel the incoming wave of lava, hungry for burned bones, he simply had to breath. An horrid exhalation came from his mouth, purple vapors raining over the molten rock. The breath smothered the fierce heat, until the lava below was left at this solid state, a useless lump of rock. More rushed forward: Nyblord simply continued to exhale until the last fickle was snuffed away.

"Most impressive, young woman". Nyblord greeted himself, at last. "Now you have surely picked up my attention. I've so rarely seen such splendid ferocity infused in a spell: even by God Slayer standards', your talent and ingenuity are worthy of praise. But, I believe, the thing that should be lauded the most about you, is your sheer cruelty. It is so palpable that I can almost caress it. Tell, it is that cruelty that brought you there? There are not many things- or people- left to burn and destroy: only death inhabits this forsaken country".

So he chose to speak at last. Her smile was malevolent as she licked her lips. "Think of this cruelty as something cared for and nurtured, suckled by wrath and taught by bloodlust and carnage. After so many lessons from its siblings and mother, it would birth death, passing these lessons on to its progeny. Well, one could say I was insanely curious to see how this place had been. To catch up on old times and reminisce. It helped that I felt a powerful dark energy from here as well," she commented.

"Tell me, why are you here? Surely you didn't come to a land that reeks of death for a vacation. Not when you are all bones. Unless you are planning on doing something big. Not that a place like this offers much potential beyond a blank if horrid looking slate," she gestured to the ruined world, unchanged from her rampage so many years ago. Untouched and perfectly preserved like one giant mummy.

"Death beget death, child" Said Nyblord. So she was the beast that brought ruination on this once uninteresting land. More and more alike by the minute.

"Just like this corpse of a land, I walk the path between the world of living and inexorable underworld. Me and this country are both eternally preserved by Magic transcending the ordinary rules of nature. Because of that, we are bathed in everlasting power. The catastrophe which entombed Midi did not robbed of its life. It is stronger than ever, pulsing in every mummy of this country".

He pointed his finger above; it was already shimmering under the rising moonlight.

"Once this moon is full, the flow of the arcane energy running deep in the land will run stronger than ever. I am here to crack open this large pie you have once baked, rise what is dead from its grave. I will exert my domain over each ghost still lingering in Midi, turning their ever lasting hatred in lifeblood for my army and powers.

Maybe, young woman, it is fate who have brought you this day. You were destined to return in this dead place so that you may rule over it. I kind turn this place for you in so much more than a mere playground. It will be our base, the seed of an Empire which will bring ruination toward Ishgar. Through my power and experience, you will be capable of burying millions in a scorching coffin. Not just a country of pastors, but cities, empires will be at your mercy, screaming and burning! I can nurture that cruelty of yours far beyond your wildest dreams, child".

Mizuki snorted. He was to take all of her hard work, make the dead walk among the living once more. It was an amusing image if nothing else. Had he offered it years earlier, she knew that she would have accepted without hesitation. The opportunity to wreak havoc upon this world without the need for the smoke and mirrors she utilized in the past would have been too good to pass up. She smiled recalling her young adolescent self fondly as she considered his proposition.

Nevertheless, he offered too late. As tempting as ruling over millions of dead and an empire sounded, she didn't feel like it; not that Mizuki needed his help if she wanted to accomplish such a feat. Her attention was already occupied by another who waited at home for her. A family of individuals that lie all over the spectrum. She grinned to herself; turning down an opportunity to cause unparalleled destruction and misery was most unlike her. Perhaps she was getting soft.

"As wonderful as that sounds I must decline. There are other things that need my attention; ruling over a wasteland isn't one of them. So how about you be a dear and just die already ok?" she said finally, her lip curling in a taunt. She knew even now that if her tight-knit circle of friends didn't exist she would have taken his proposition immediately, ready to slaughter these sheep at will. Alas, they did exist, and one lion among the crowd had caught the lioness's attention and captured her heart. It was still weird to be engaged. She shrugged, her lava rising once more.

"Other thingsss getting your attention? Things greater than ME!" Nyblord did not believed it: he was unsure if being outrage or just plain confused. A girl with such amount of malice running through her veins, refusing the offering of a lifetime? Maybe, that of her was only the pinnacle of arrogance. She believed herself to be so above the Necromancer that his offering, and thereby his power, were insignificant compared to his power. God Slayer often that disgusting opinion of themselves. Oh, he would have proved her to be dead wrong.

"Perhaps your training with Gods had over inflated the perception of your power. I have crushed many of your kind, squashed them as if they were bugs. Allow me to show you".

An enormous amount of power came through, taking the shape of a gigantic, spiked skull, casting his shadow above them. The monstrosity, made of unholy fumes, hid the whole moon. With a gesture of his creator, crashed below, his jaws ready to cleave the mage below

"Skull of Miasma, come forth, and bite!"

Her laugh could only be described as deranged. "Of course, why would I need a lowly pretender like you to accomplish what I could do myself?" she retorted, her grin as infuriating as it was mad. "You're a child playing at games that are beyond your understanding," Mizuki noted. Fissures spread across the landscape like spiderwebs, widening en masse as she cackled. Etherano swirled through the landscape, titanic in volume with her at its epicenter as a massive figure rose from the depths to greet the incoming skull: a volcano.

"I'm just warming up honey. Perhaps your use of the dead has given you a bad case of hubris," she retorted. She had met other god slayers before as well. Mizu also willing admitted to slaughtering them. They were as weak as he claimed them to be, giving proper god slayers like herself a bad reputation. Something she could not condone. Lava began pooling around Nyblord as she stretched lazily.

An environmental assault, far above in scale than the one before. Nyblord had to concede; he would have found the fight pretty exhilarating in other occasions. But could never condone nor forgive an insult on his divine person. If that foolish God Slayer refused to serve him while still alive, then her broken soul who have joined him while he suckled the marrow from her skinless carcass.

Nyblord had no time to play: soon, the moon would have aligned in the perfect position. Commanding his Skull of Miasma to simply dive above the volcano would probably have resulted in another fruitless game of parries, dodges and counterattacks. Better instead to actually grant the wish of his opponent, causing an eruption truly worthy of the name.

The fluttering skull soared higher, above the growing volcano, brimming with purple vapor. Every lapillus, every small fragment of lava coming in contact with it had its heat and fluidity robbed, turning in a useless pebble. With a mute, yet manic cackle, the dark spell drove straight in the belly of the beast, reaching the still forming caldera in no time.

"Before what you wish for, my insolent child. I was not boasting when I said that could rise your destructive potential to unprecedented heights. Dark powers and godly infused lava are the perfect recipe for a great bang". A protective spell was already erected on the necromancer, protecting him from the heat from below and the conflagration to come: a sphere made of multiple foils of glyphs, created with a gesture of his brazier. With his free hand, his finger and middle index clenched on his palm. A signal to alter the balance of magic within the Skull of Miasma, turning its flux into a chaotic, highly unstable compound. The lattice of lava switched from red to a glowing white, columns of light surging from the ground. The gas was spreading in the liquid rock with haste: a massive explosion, engulfing the entire pool, was practically inevitable. The girl's mortal trap revolted against her own creator.

Her expression was bemused as she tapped her fingers. She could tell that he felt gravely insulted by her earlier refusal. Not that she cared for his hurt feelings; if a "Necromancer" could feel so butthurt over someone saying no then he didn't deserve to live. Mizuki watched the growing light show with increasing giddiness, enjoying the color changes as the lava lost its red hue and become a blinding white, reading to unleash a country shaking conflagration. Yet it didn't concern her at all that he "turned" this creation of hers against her. Her voice came out singsong as Mizuki said, "thanks for doing the work for me," before snickering.

Then it happened. The highly unstable compound reached its peak, unable to maintain its form any longer. It reacted in a violent shuddering before exploding. The ground shook as what few stationary structures remained were ripped to shreds. It roared over the volcano, splintering it into pieces as it ripped through the skull as well, overwhelming its ability nullify flame and heat. The blinding blast even managed to rock the protection that Nyblord had erected around himself, nearly crushing it due to centrifugal force. For any who saw the event, it was certain that life for the God Slayer had come to a grinding halt. Perhaps she went out with a bang if nothing else.

That is, until a sucking sound was heard in the aftermath. Drawn in slowly at first, the brutal explosion and its contents were drawn backwards, white hot lava and the volatile admixture pulled in by a strong inhale. The blinding light began to clear as the source that devastated the area was gobbled up. It continued receding, the disproportionate response pulled into a new epicenter that continued to suck in every available nutrient. A swallowing sound was emitted from somewhere in the haze, followed by a burp before even more was taken in. Until nothing remained by the grievous scars visited upon an already broken land.

Mizuki visualized once more, burping a second time as she licked her lips. Her eyes glittered with unabated lunacy. "You know, in another world I might have said yes if I knew you were going to spoil me so," the woman murmured as she began walking forward. The construction of her lava had changed. No longer was it an angry, molten red; now it was a majestic, divine white-gold. Each step was measured and unhurried, her lava gathering to either side in the form of golems. "Go on, work your little necromancer magic, I'd love to see how these citizens have been since I last paid them a visit." Something changed in her tone, no longer deranged or haughty. Instead, it was matter-of-fact, bored with undertones of authority.

What remained in the necromancers sockets, two ruby like lights, widened in disbelief. How powerful that woman was? Even counting the power to devour energy mixed with their native elements that God Slayers usually boast, this unholy mix of lava and black Magic would be more than enough to make the majority of them swelling like balloons and falling on their knees, their veins flowing with venom. But the girl had just made a fool of this strategy, and converted it in additional source of power for herself.

There was no mistake: the woman has touched the realm of the Gods. The golem she just erected proved it, as well as her pure power. A mage of that temper would have required all of the necromancer's strength and ingenuity to be taken down. But he wasn't afraid. Not only the time for the grand ritual was so close, but the girl herself seemed to eager to let him perform his incantation without a hiff. Perhaps it was curiosity; perhaps, just colossal hubris. Nevertheless, she surely did not understood the power and grudge of dead.

"Sure, my lady". Nyblord voice turned like poisoned honey. "I can give the pleasure of witnessing true power rising from the grave, if that is what you desire. I am sure the people of this dead land will be all so happy to face again the monster who destroyed their home and lives. Let us not postpone this lovely reunion, shall we?"

Despite the enormous amount of smoke released by the detonation, the sky looked immaculately clear, terse. The raw magic of this land was excited by the position of the moon and the star, fluttering through the air in a wind mortals could not perceive, but that was like a song or perfumed breeze for the people living in the arcane world. Nyblord left hand loosened his grip on the brazier of Arkamus, the most treasured of his artifact. The ceremonial piece did not fall: instead, it glided mid air, guided by the magical currents.

The brazier stopped just in the middle of the moon rays, where they bathed it at their strongest. Nyblord rose both of his handa to the sky, and began to sing. His language was ancient, harkening from times barely remember even in the era he had been a God King. A guttural tongue, beginning like a whisper, then rising in a cacophony of words the felt blasphemous from their very sound. As Nyblord progressed his chant, the brazier rose higher and higher, a rapture of magic and moonlight.

The spirits soon followed. One could not distinguish them from one another, as they were diving too fast in the caldron, little more than distorted lights hastened from their travel. They came from every angle of the broken country, called from their entombed slumber by the unholy mage. They joined each other swirling around the brazier, a whirlpool was growing larger and faster in its rotation for every soul coming in the ritual.

The souls attracted to the ritual were thousands, tens of thousands perhaps. A song came from the nexus, a somber mixture of cries and wails. They were the lamentation of men and women, young and old, good and bad, chanting of their premature loss of life. The song almost seemed to follow Nyblord ritual, a rhythm could be found between the guttural incantation and the ethereal, somber recalling. When Nyblord's ritual changed his tempo, his voice erupting in a graveling sound, the music of the whirlpool tuned as well. Screams and screams, anger and agony shaking to the entire land, an orchestra of sorrow.

When the song reached the peak, the screams become one roar, piercing through eardrums, a sound to chill a very man's soul. The vortex itself was chancing his color: in the pale mass of souls, a purple haze was growing. Like a tumor, it spread through the indistinct mass, corrupting each soul. The mass of spirits turned more erratic, the whirlpool became larger. To indicate that his ritual was finishing, Nyblord raised his voice to the sky, a challenge to the gods themselves. A power coming from hatred and grief, transcending the barrier of death.

The whirlpool began to live the brazier, coiling on itself. It fluttered in the sky, assuming the form of a snake large enough to swallow men's whole, coming on Nyblord's side. The mass of souls had become a beast, a monster made by a legion of mad spirits for the King of Necromancers to command.

"Do you recognize the woman in front you? She killed all of you, robbed you the sweet light of the world of living. The time of your vengeance has come. Rip her soul away from her body. Torment her forever, break her, DESTROY HER!"

The snake of souls did not answer immediately to such order: it was looking around itself, perceiving the world through his unholy eyes for the first time after so long. But then, Mizuki's magical trace became clear. Every legion of the legion began shaking with rage, vibrating with a screeching fury. Some of this souls, a minimal amount of the soul monster, detached themselves from the whole: they had found smaller manifestation of the God Slayer to hunt, bearing the same magic as her. The rest of the snake however, opened a his jaws: thousands of screams and roar came through a single throat. Finally facing the reason of its suffering, it rushed to gulp her whole.

Perhaps something was wrong with her after all. She knew that she should be trembling right now, that her very soul should be consumed with terror. Greater men would have been reduced to a sobbing mess when confronted with the hatred and wrath of tens or hundreds of thousands they had slaughtered. It was corporeal and set on one thing; returning the favor. Yet all she could conjure was a yawn. Such an insolent gesture was followed by an equally impudent comment. "I see death has done nothing for your breath, I hoped they would have some sort of breath mint, but it appears not," she noted. Her thoughts were then expressed telepathically to her creations as she watched smaller masses break off. It was clear where they were headed for.

"Incoming, it appears you'll have some unpleasant company soon. Feel free to rip them to shreds. Leaving nothing behind as always," she commented telepathically. Mizuki was then bombarded with a tidal wave of malevolence from the other end. Her responding smile was terrifying as she turned her attention to the beings once more. "Now now, don't be shy little beast, I know you have some anger to release," the woman cooed as it charged forward, mouth gaping while ready to eviscerate her person. The golem stepped forward, clashing with the angry soul beast with explosive fury. The two began grappling as the golem sought to crush the snake while melting into down into nothingness. A small ball of white-hot lava grew in Mizu's hand as she stared down Nyblord. Circling around the fight, she started to snigger before tossing the ball at him, manipulating its proportions so that it would grow larger and wider as it bore down on the Necromancer.

The blonde kicked up, stretching her legs. "Yo demon-breath, we're about to have some new company soon, so I'd appreciate it if you weren't a little whiny "justice" shit and decided to get in my way ok?" she commented, rolling her neck as her lava roared to life. Another roaring was rolling closer, unnatural in its conception and a source of dark energy. "Oh ho ho, didn't mom's ghosts of christmas past come to play? Shame, she should have buried them far beyond reach. Oh well, more fun for me."

Her head snapped up as she felt something come closer. The redhead pinwheeled into a standing position. "Looks like my wooing of Lindsey will have to wait. Don't worry, I have a ton of things planned for us to do," she snickered, already scheming about how she would please her fellow redhead if Sa'luk didn't get a move on. She heard the same unholy screams as the blonde, coupled with the same horrifying dark stench. This was something unnatural, something that shouldn't be. It didn't take a genius to recognize dark magic when it was happening. "Welp, looks like we'll have to do things the hard way," she said, erecting a massive double bladed lava axe that she swung experimentally before spinning it.

The brunettes were the first to suffer an attack, initially fending off the onslaught will standing back to back. "We need to erase them completely, otherwise they'll linger. No child left behind," the female twin murmured while unloading a blast of lava at one who threatened her brother. Meanwhile, the raven haired one wasn't faring so well. While the wisest and most sound, he was also the weakest, the wrongness of what he was facing starting to effect him. "Not good, their hatred is on equal footing with mom's madness. That's a volatile mix," he noted to himself as he is struggled to force one back.

Nyblord scoffed at Mizuki's now evident ignorance of this marvel of Dark Arts. Lava? Melting them down? What absurdity. The spell he'd just performed had given voice and essence to the fury of the deceased. An legion of phantoms that would never stop, never stumble, never compromise. Without the exorcist power of godly magnitude, the God Slayer wholly arsenal would turn out to be completely ineffective. Nyblord himself could have done to quell such fury, the screaming choir of hundreds of unjustly massacred. That meant not, however, that he could lower his guard. He recalled his brazier, then launched a blast to take the sphere of lava head on: the collision resulted in another blast, an explosion of considerable magnitude.

Child play for both of them actually; the real spectacle was the struggle between the snake and the golem. The legion on souls suffered not the heat of the lava, nor the strength of the construct grip: nothing corporeal was able to hurt. The contrary, however, was not true. The mass of spirits dove in the golem, its intangible nature taking place in the molten rock without trouble. The golem began shaking violently, its flammable texture whirling in bubble, its candor fading in pulse. Lava turned in solid rock, then exploded, leaving on the ground nothing but small debris and rubble.

The snake did that again and again, ripping away magic and motion from every construct of Mizuki until nothing remained. It hungered for magic, magic of the one responsible for his painful existence. He would have swallowed every inch of it. Looking back at his prey, it roared again: this time, what came was not a mere screams, but a torrent of power rushing forward, crushing and liquefying the ground below in a poisonous mud.

Cursan perceived all of that: the ritual, the destruction. He knew Mizuki's was an idiot, but facing the Dark Sacramentum like it was a mere ectoplasma was beyond the heights of folly. Her power meant nothing to the fury of the damned; but unfortunately, it also meant that her five troublesome children were impotent as well. So, he had to play the part of the sensible parent, and save this pests from a fate horrendous beyond imagining.

"Listen too me, all of you. If you care even just a bit for you skin, run for your life and reach Sa'luk. This is an ancient spell I know all to well. They are wraiths whose hatred has been transformed in Dark Magic, which twisted their form and granted them unholy power. Once faced against the object of their hatred- which, I am afraid are you and your mother- they won't stop at nothing before killing them. They are incorporeal, so you cannot harm them: plus, they will never run out of magic. I can think of a way to deal with them, but we need to gather! NOW!"

The raven-haired one computed all of this new information. It made sense, which is why his attacks proved largely ineffective. It was a matter of “feeding the beast”, something he did not intend on continuing. Throwing a flash of lava as a temporary distraction, he turned his attention to searching for Sa’luk’s location. His efforts would be unnecessary as the Devil Slayer appeared, taking out the beast.

That urgency was not lost on Sa'luk, having just finished his scalping of Katerina. Nor the incredible surge of power which just basked the entire country. Looking for a comrade who hand't been slaughtered yet, he run as fast as he could to the first construct he could find, just to give the right push. He figured out a raven-haired figure, holding one of the specters Cursan had talked about. The thing, a little more than an half-melted gremlin bathed in purple darkness, was troddling his way with construct. His ferocity was inexhaustible, his kicks, jaws a breaths of miasma pushing the raven-haired one back at every turn, overpowering him almost decisively. A demon coming from hell, but that was the thing Sa'luk was made to destroy.

With a slaying motion, Sa'luk separated the grotesque spirit from its enemy, cleaving the former in half with his Sword of Fog. Like nothing had happened, the extremities of the ghostly bodies returned in one piece. However, the stall was broken, and raven-haired one got at least some time recover his breath. The angry spirits growled and roared, ready to rip the Devil Slayer throat who has dared standing in his way.

"Stay put, child of Mizuki". Sa'luk addressed his partner. "I 've got an idea on how to take down this thing once and for all".

Sa'luk was waiting for the assault of the gremlin-ghost. The creature slithered, crouching on four legs, jumped forward. It looked like a predator hellbent on fresh meat to bite, but he didn't aim at crushing his opponents physically. The beast leap straight in Sa'luk body, phasing through his shadows skin. He went for the Devil Slayer's soul soul to corrode it with its hatred, nagging his mind until the host would have shared the same madness, the same thirst for the soul of its executioner.

Given time to breathe, he relayed Cursan's information over and over again, knowing the initial message had been ignored by the rest. He felt a reaction from the twins first as they turned tail. As for the others, they continued to fight on, though the redhead was faltering, as if sensing the futility of the gesture. "Look, all of you must move to Sa’luk’s location immediately. This is non-negotiable unless you’re comfortable with being devoured." he continued, his tone matter-of-fact as he stood once more. "Thanks for the save," he added after turning towards Sa'luk.

Mizuki felt her golem's presence fade away. "So mere lava is insufficient," she noted calmly. Unperturbed by the destruction of her construct as white lava formed in both of her hands. They shaped themselves into long blades, mimicking the construction of Viking Sword as the element congealed into gleaming white-hot weapons. Yet their construction was different from the defeated golem, humming at a far higher frequency with an abnormal admixture. Their brightness outshined the full moon overhead as she waited for the snake to turn its attention to her. "Come little snake, I've missed you." She heard another powerful roar with accompanying screams as it recognized her voice. The ground shifted into a ruined mess as the poisonous muck from its mouth land on the surface.

As it charged, so did she leveling both weapons at the coiling, sadistic mass of dark magic and tortured phantom souls. They had to be exorcised or put to rest, and she had just the trick for that as she turned both swords outwards. There was power in a shape, and the blades would become long stakes, charged with another, far more ancient magic at its base. The polar opposite of darkness is light, so it was only fitting that she attack the core of this entity with its antithesis. The magic supercharged each stake to its absolute peak and beyond, each piece enlarged in an effort contain even more of the form. Indeed, the light was an intentional effect, binding and imbuing properties of this ancient holy magic with almighty fortitude.

She then plunged them forward into the roaring bestial snake with all haste made. Mizuki had killed them before, but the time had come to put them to rest. Her eyes cleared of madness for a second as she put everything into those stakes and the binding light magic necessary for extinguishing this unholy contraption. "Rest. You deserve better than this rotten world and I. Leave this world and return to the life that follows. Liberabo vos, de execratione maledicta congessit. I liberate you from my curse." Her voice was tinged with melancholy as the ancient incantation flowed through her body and mind.

The stakes resonating with her pleas as the Holy Enchantment took hold of this thread of truth. Perhaps the beings were incorporeal, but the magic that bound them to this plane of existence was not. This was an opportunity that she would grasp. She could not bring them back to life, not as they were, but she would bring closure for what she had done. Unintentionally, the Necromancer's greed had given her an opportunity to set things straight, to allow her victims to move on to the afterlife that awaited them. Her body glowed in tandem with the weapons as the circle was completed, a magic seal forming around the woman and the beast with the same white gold structure and magical hue. Emeralds became a dazzling white-gold irises as at last, the spell was cast on the enraged entity.

Nyblord's initial disbelief turned in shock, then in horror, then in utter revulsion. A God Slayer with the power of granting spirits their freedom... that meant for him the greatest danger all, the ultimate threat to his abhorred existence. Had the woman proven such strength to overcome the monumental amount of hatred surging from thousands, tortured being, she would be capable to banish his own spirit to the world. He dared not see the result of such potent struggle: taking advantage of a magical shortcut in his lair, he teleported there with just few verses. The Great Necromancer's plan were foiled, his cabal diminished: however, a day for a victory is always read to those who bring their skin- or bones, in the case- back. He had all the time of the world to outlive the God Slayer and spitting on her grave.

Inhale and Expire. While far more modest than the one Mizuki's was performing at the moment, he too was trying to exorcise the demon. As a Devil Slayer, his body was accustomed to absorb darkness from every source, including ghosts. Taking away the curse from their body, transforming it in fuel for his ability. However, that was not enough to quell the monstrosity. Dark Sacramentum, as Cursan had explained, was a spell aimed at converting the ghosts' anger and grief in endless source of dark energy. Absorbing it would not suffice; he had to weed the dark seeds out from their roots, ripping pain and anger from the wraiths. Nothing truly that different that his "conventional" Devil Slayer form: he got his strength by channeling dark, murderous thoughts. This time, it was a different being he had take rage from.

In the abyss of his mental landscape, the demon roamed and roared; he searched for an clinch in Sa'luk physical and mental armor, all vain. Sa'luk's mind was trained to repel and contain hosts of all kind, a crucial perk of being a proper demon Slayer. The assassin manifested an bright hand- or, better yet, the equivalent of it in a physical sense- from the blackness, which reached the wraith. The two souls came in contact, sharing thoughts, memories and feelings.

And what horrid feelings Sa'luk experienced. Lava flowing everywhere, screams from his parents, burning lungs, scorched skin, melting eyes. That kid had died of fire and rock, his spirit trapped in misshaped coffin, still screaming for the horror befallen upon him. Rarely Sa'luk had ever felt such pain; righteous anger burned inside his chest.

"''Tell me who did this to you. I swear I'll avenge you all. I won't stop until the monsters who took everything from you suffers the same pain as yours. I'll deliver them hell. I'LL SEND THEM TO HELL!" ''It wasn't a mere tentative of exorcism any longer: Sa'luk truly shared the rage of that cursed soul, felt that pain as it was his.

The answer came soon after. Tears begin to flow from Sa'luk's eyes.

Mizuki.

He could not have been mistaken. The magical trace the ghost was searching belonged to her beyond any reasonable doubt. The one chosen by his best friend to become his bride. The same who had committed some of the worst atrocities known to man. He could not understand the meaning of this: a part of him was still in denial. He didn't want to think of all the implications for the God Slayer joining Dawn Horizon. All that the assassin wanted was to butcher the whore, rip the lungs out of her chest, skin her alive, impale her through her eyes. Making her scream until her breath was exhausted.

The vision was over. A small firefly came from the Devil Slayer's: the ghost of the day had been purified by this hatred, having passing it on Sa'luk. Perhaps willingly, perhaps not, but the spirit was ready to finally cross the plane of the living, reaching the afterlife he deserves.

Sa'luk heard shaken steps: called by Cursan, the creations of Mizuki's have rallied before the Devil Slayer. Angry spirits followed: something these golems of rocks would have never been able to face alone. Without even needing to open his eyes, Sa'luk expanded his dark aura. Its frequencies were not traceable by human or magical demons: they were the callings of demon, an unspoken language shared by the creatures of the dark. With of Sal'uk's breaths, the deads were already relinquishing their hatred. Dark particles came from the ghosts, floating straight in Sa'luk lungs. As the ghosts were being cleaned by their curse, their grotesque shape being peeled away and sucked by the demon slayer. Hatred and malevolence made flesh, floating from one place to another.

The resistance was incredible. She gritted her teeth as she was pushed back, again and again by the pure malevolence of the beast. The totality of its anger matched the completeness of her destruction. Soon, her glowing flame became a seething aura, the ground cracking. Having to kick things up a notch as finally progress was made. First one soul peeled off, it's darkness extinguished as it was freed of its baggage. Then another. Then ten. Soon they left in scores, families reunited in the afterlife as their hatred was eliminated. Thousands followed as the mass shrank, further and further, its cries for retribution weaker as its numbers dwindled. Soon, only a couple thousand remained, the other tens of thousands sent to the world that waited beyond. No longer tied to this plane. Mizuki huffed, making one last push as she forced the stakes in completely. Golden lines of white-hot lava crisscrossed the now humanoid beast, shaped into one being. Identical to her biological mother but with the same eyes and hair as Mizuki. The word grandmother drifted quietly on the wind as this last soul departed, caressing the woman's cheek gently. Freed of its hatred, it had recognized her, recognized their connection to each other. The word repeated as it drifted across the small winds.

She dropped to one knee, stakes clattering to the ground by disappearing into nothingness. Her hair hung limply around her face as her transformation dispelled. Jade eyes viewed the world once more. Mizu sighed. "I suppose there's a first time for everything. I need to practice that more though, I didn't expect it take so much effort." She took a mental stock of herself, reaching the same conclusion. Prodding herself, the slayer stood, realizing Nyblord was nowhere to be found. Ranging out her sensory skills, she made note of a rapidly disappearing darkness that held the same signature as the beast she just killed. The breakaways. Bookmarking that for later, she checked the rest of the landscape. S"So he left. Poor thing wasn't ready for me it seems, did he not expect such company? I suppose his old heart couldn't take all the excitement," she sniggered. Part of her suspected that her little display had given him quite the fright. Nevertheless, there was the matter of the others. Standing once more, she began walking, slowly at first as she adjusted to the wooziness that took hold. "Shit." She started running, noting how lethargic her pace was.

The blonde sighed. "I don't like this things, it's the first time I've fought an enemy and they just keep coming at me unfazed," she paused for a second, "Wait, where is mom?"

The raven-head took stock of the situation. It appeared everyone was present and accounted for with the exception of Mizuki. Upon hearing the concern in the blonde's voice, he ranged out his senses. What he found shocked him, made clear by his face going several shades pale.

The redhead, ready to give Sa'luk hell about not making a move on Lindsey, caught this. "Are you good?" she asked, following his sensory mechanisms. Soon her expression was identical. "Wait, mom took them out? We couldn't even put a dent in them and we dealt with a couple apiece. She wiped out tens of thousands. Seriously, what is mom on? I need some of that," she commented, envy creeping into her tone. Yet she didn't voice her other concern, the real reason why raven was so worried. Mizuki didn't seem any near 100%.

She flinched, as something else came on her radar. It was hatred. Palpable, terrifying, bowel-blocking hatred. It was right next to her too. She could see the raven-haired one shrink back, the twins legs wobbling. Even the blonde was concerned. That hatred was just the one of kill and destroy. No, it was the kind of annihilation, pillaging and unending torture. Part of her hoped that Mizuki would have the good sense to turn around, especially when it was aimed at her. Not that she would. The redhead sighed, her hands clenched as the hatred grew. She felt her own anger rising, as Sa'luk continued his cleanup of the remaining souls.

Sal'uk needn't had to sense the trace of Mizuki to recognize her dwindling power: he could see that merely from the way she strolled on her feet. Sa'luk eyes were piercing the dark night, glimmer of yellow: the eyes of a cat looking a mouse. The burning hatred he felt of cleaning up the soul had already changed nature: not a smoldering fire, but a cold, seething desire to destroy and torture.

"Cursan..."

The demon could not help but sigh. Perhaps it was inevitable that Sa'luk would have discovered the truth, sooner or later. Certainly, it was very probable in such a complicated predicament, when Mizuki's own past had risen from its grave to hunt there. The girl had manage to cleanse at least one of the most horrid part of past... sadly, though, too late and not enough. The demon knew that nothing could ever divert Sa'luk from its cruel mission, once a clear target was found. His heart was too closed by vengeance, impenetrable to any reason. What a shame: Dawn Horizon seemed to be such a nice place for both of them...

"I get it. However, before going on all out, try not to kill the five spirits following Mizuki. They're rough in the edges, but still think like children. They can be set straight, with due time. Ok, maybe the blonde one is a tad more psycho the others, but they have not technically done anything irreparably immoral". He thought about the half burned Templar; he got a pretty rough time, but he was alive and not in any mortal danger. He was sure Sabrina could have fixed him in no time.

Sa'luk smiled turned large and wicked, teeth shimmering like razors. Of course, he would have never harmed any innocent, not in any predicament; however, that did not mean he couldn't have effectively neutralized them.

The shadowy cloak he was still wearing, an heritage of his Contract Mode, started weaving violently, sending pulse after pulse of demonic energy through the dead land. The Sword of Fog vibrated the most, dark oozes and cursed particles spewing from its edges. Darkness shone trough, enveloping the Devil Slayer like a burning candle. An amount of Cursan power so massive it just didn't send tidal waves and chills to freeze a man's heart solid: shadow itself was turning in something solid, tangible. And very, very dangerous.

Visualizing the five homunculi near him, Sa'luk could perceive their terror, their frustration and their worries about their mother. Meaningless things to his power, not that he was crossing the line between men and demons, passing the limits of his Contract. Five tentacles of darkness, the joint effort of both the slayer and his demon host, struck the children of Mizuki's in the time of thought. Their consistency was gooey, a black, sticky mud, crawling and absorbing the rocky flesh of the constructs. In vain they were struggling, both in physical blows and bout of magic; such dense darkness was soaking everything like a sponge. With muffled curses and cries for help, the children of Mizuki's has been swallowed by Sa'luk new form, imprisoned in an an inescapable abyss.

The monstrous mass bloated further, its power rising by the minutes. Sa'luk himself became completely encased by it, one with it. Twitching and jerking under the pale move, it sunk in to the ground, a small whale diving deep in to the ocean. Swimming in places barely illuminated by the stars. Ready to devour its prey once and for all.

Silence is Golden
Her concern grew as the silence beckoned. When each of her creations winked out from her sisensory fields, that concern grew. She then stopped. This seething hatred, cold as a knife's edge and infinitely more vindictive told her everything she needed to discern. He knew. The other souls she were tracking had disappeared, meaning he had to have done something to eliminate them. Or at least convince them to move on. Despite her tired frame, she sank into crouch. She was a wounded lioness, but that didn't change what she was. A lioness. If a cat like him expected to just off her, he was about to have a rude awakening. Her lip curled into a snarl as she pooled together her remaining magic. While the ground still cracked, it was less than she had expected. It would suffice; there was no choice in the matter as she a bloated, terrifying leviathan of darkness disappear. Her emerald gaze flicked to the right and left. Nothing. Lava coated the woman's frame as she waited. Combustable flames and volatile magic mixing once more as Mizuki awaited his grand appearance. She didn't expect a straight attack; it was not in his profession, his magic, or his nature. Especially when it came to evil like her. She smiled dryly. Mizu supposed that given everything she had done that it was a pretty fair assessment. Though she had no intention to die here today. "Come on out little shadow. Or are you afraid that you'll be next?" she taunted, sadism creeping into her tone.

The blonde bit the shadows. No good. She could hear the struggles of her fellow siblings, and it only pissed her off. She set off a fiery blaze from inside her prison, threatening to combust. It didn't sit well with her that her mother was walking into a trap. One didn't have to be a genius to see that Sa'luk wanted to murder in the most gruesome, sadistic, and drawn out way possible. Something that her mother wouldn't take sitting down. Part of her noticed that the raven-haried one wasn't struggling. Maybe he was resigned. "Fight you idiot, mom didn't raise us to be quitters. Fucking cunt," she spat, unceasing her struggle as she felt the other three do the same. The redhead was particularly volatile, "So this is how you treat girls? Fuck this, I'm not letting you take Lindsey anywhere. You're gonna keep your grubby hands off Lin-Lin cause you aren't going to treat her right. BITCH," her voice was sharp and accusatory even as her mind was punctuated by worry. Her mother was going to be killed if they fought like this. If Mizuki had been fresh she knew without a doubt that Sa'luk would be steamrolled into oblivion, something that made her feel better given what he was doing now. "Bitch," she repeated, slamming a white-hot lava foot into the shadows.

Thinking of all the blabbering happen in the Darkness, Cursan could not help but groan. These little brats should have been grateful, instead of bitching and spewing insults, considering that the could have ended their lives in any given moment. Though he could not help but understand the anger and frustration moving them: no one is happy when their moment is put in mortal danger, hunted by an executioner hellbent on a gruesome murder. He still did not know if there was genuine filial concern that moved the clones, or just another expression of the bitchiness their mother had been imbibed them with. Things might have turned out to be clear, if Cursan had ever the plan of using them as hostages in the worst case scenario.

Not that, at the moment, the demon had tangible reasons to be truly worried about: after performing such a trick, Mizuki's reserves of power were running dangerously low. On the other peak, both him and Sa'luk had plenty: having performed their Devil Synchronization, the duo was at the top of their form, their power having become one. And yet, uncertainty still loomed over the results of this mortal fight. That woman was a talent with almost no equal, having gained such a potent mastery of her God Slayer Magic to have broken the barrier of what human minds are capable of conceiving, gaining glimpses of a power surpassing the gods themselves. Beings like these are blessed by fate; and luck, unfortunately, can be an uncontrollable mistress.

Whether Sa'luk was hearing the ramblings of the lava children or the doubts of Sa'luk, it mattered not: his mind was sharp and focused, his resolve implacable and unstoppable. Many things were roaming in his mind plagued by anger, but were all different strategies he could have adopted to bring Mizuki's down. Nothing else mattered, nothing else would have given those poor souls due justice. From the dark ooze slithering on the ground, he could see that Mizuki had adopted a fighting stance: that made things certainly slightly more cumbersome, but also indicated an utter resolve on her part to end the conflict in duel to death. Perfect. No stupid bullshit about being part of the same guild or the power of friendship: just two unnatural creatures trading blows and pain until one of them did collapse.

A dome of gooey darkness emerged from Sa'luk new shadow form, emulating the rising of volcanoes Mizuki so fiercely loved to cast. A small bubble, which soon grew in a little hill, towering over Mizuki, Darkness was molded in muscular, broad torso; a bald of head of a grinning gargoyle emerged atop the darkness, small tusks coming from his mouth. Tree eyes were glancing in the darkness, all on Mizuki; the third, slit vertically on his forehead, glanced rhythmically with every crawl of the beast to his prey. That was the true visage, the true power of Cursan, when he still roamed free in the scorching lands of Desierto, begetting terror and awe in each of his inhabitant. A power manifested again the world, ready to measures itself against Mizuki in clash head on.

That did mean that the duo had only in-your-face approaches to deal with such troublesome targets: as consummate assassin, they knew far better. A far smaller tendril departed from the dark mass, taking a larger route to sneak behind the God Slayer. Flanking Mizuki, attacking her back and front with overwhelming force and dirty blows, splitting her power and attention in two fronts. That was their beginning of their strategy, the beginning of their hunt.

She sniffed. The woman understood clearly what he was trying to imitate when giving rise to this monstrosity. Part of her grinned at the rendition as a massive, oversized ax grew in her hand. With a snarl, she swung the weapon at the beast, ready to meet it's attacks head on. Though they were faint, Mizuki could hear furious dissent; her creations. She focused on the hell-fire known as she shadows being rained on her from above. That is, until something hit her from behind. Wheeling around, she found the dirty trick that she had been expecting earlier. Despite the pain of the blow, her laugh spoke of exhilaration. Yes, she was a monster. It was an indubitable part of her being, one that she called upon now as she swung the axe like a mad woman at the humanoid form, generating bisecting and decapitating motions that would drown a mortal man's heart and mind in fear.

She couldn't leave the other beast wanting though. Even as strikes struck home she turned, unleashing a point blank Lava God's Bellow that was equal to the beast in size. Part of her monitored her waning magic power (who knew sending tens of thousands of souls onward took that much energy?) with a careful eye. It was a tricky balance, mapping three fronts, a humanoid assassin that she continued to levy mortal blows towards, a beast that required pronounced attentiveness, and a dwindling reserve. Mizuki called for the lava of the earth, forcing it to rise even as she grunted from exertion. It wasn't as easy as it always had been, but she was undeterred. Mizu had no plans to die, even if it meant delivering the ultimatum to the opposing side. She wheeled around again, remaining on her heels for the sake of flexibility as she unleashed a lava imbued haymaker at the persistent assassin. Part of her noted that he was surprisingly durable; those were shots that should have wiped him off the map yet he still stood and continued to bring his own attacks. He disappeared as the larger beast attacked again. She unleashed another volley of lava from the ground and her hands, seeking to pin him down.

Mizuki's attacks were restless, but there was a limit she could not have overcome: she had one brain to manage a chaotic battlefield. The two had such a connection their mind was geared to cover each other weakness, leaving no blind spot. The larger mass scoffed at Mizuki's attack, responding fire with fire: he matched the Lava Bellow with a Slayer attack of equal strength. As for the volley of lava, the torso of Cursan was just as agile as physically daunting; dashing on the ground, he just to crawl on the side to avoid lava. He then went all out with the offensive: large spheres of Darkness were coalesced from his hands both aimed at Mizuki's. The man in the shadow leaped from the trajectory of the two globes, waiting to take Mizuki's while she was too busy parrying or avoid the incoming blows.

Fury reigned. They were good. Really good. Now she saw why Tetsuya had been so interested in them. Two heads are greater than one indeed. She felt electricity surge through her form as it coalesced with her lava. Then Mizuki let go, releasing a small rendition of the abilities she had gained all those years ago. The higher stage meant burning through even more of an increasingly small amount of energy remaining, but allowed her to unleash an Thundering Lava offensive that was as potent as the all out offensive that bore down on her courtesy of the bestial thing in front of her. Yes, they were good, but she would show them the cost of tangling with her.

Lighting and lava are powerful and exceedingly bright mixture, particularly dangerous against beings made of shadows. The two balls send by the greater demon dissipated into nothingness; the beast itself was forced to step back, completely engulfed by the flare. Its form started to crumble, layers of muscle eroded by the flash, evaporating like water coming in contact with an extreme source of heat. The offensive was effective, surely: but not nearly enough, as muscles and sinews of black matter were already resurfacing to fill the gap their brethren left, reconstructing the flesh of the demon to its former glory. At the height of his power, Cursan had shrugged off blasts of light of far greater magnitude, withstood attacks that would have razed to dust entire cities. Mizuki's had normally staggering amounts of energy, but the blow was nothing more than a linger of her strength, the last breath of a dying volcano.

The man clad in shadow took the place temporarily left, engaging Mizuki with greater ferocity. Taking advantage of her diverged attention, he rushed with a high kick sent straight to his face. Two daggers had appeared in both hands, swung with madness as he was seizing the God Slayer weaknesses and cutting trough her defenses. His movements were incredibly fast, but lanky and shambling, a mess of jerking arms, tilting poses and awkward coilings on his spine. The shadows figure wasn't moving like he didn't have a backbone, almost as if all of his limbs had been replaced with prosthesis of pitch black rubber. His fighting style was a true mess, a choreography in shamble: but was exceedingly dangerous for this very reason, because few would have guessed a pattern to exploit in such utter chaos.

It appeared that he had decided to return to the fray. Her hastily constructed defenses would be cut down as quickly as she built them, one barely parrying a kick to the face. Mizuki could feel herself tiring; though her attack was effective, she caught the mass reconstructing itself in her peripheral vision, angering the woman. Alas, she couldn't dwell on it long as her defenses were torn down again. This time, it made far more headway, scratching her as each dagger struck home before being pulled back. Blood welled, but ignored this while charging forward with a snarl. She felt more strikes hit home as she plunged a lightning and lava infused fist into the rabble that was his all-out offensive. It was clear to her that defense was the last thing on his mind. "The best defense is a good offense" was a phrase that popped into her head as she noted the randomness; it was something she could appreciate. However, Mizuki had no time for sentimentality as she plunged a second lightning and lava fist into the madness, more cuts releasing blood as the two combatants locked into a slugfest.

Both of Minnie's hands buried in the man's chest. Lava and Lighting shining at unison, ripping away the curtain of shadows. Revealing only void behind, not a shred of flesh burned or impaled. The man clad in shadows- no:the puppet of shadows- gave Mizuki such an happily feral smile it would have make an alligator proud. Through the half-moon of fangs, Cursan spoke.

"Suprise. Here is Cursaaan..."

With Mizuki on full assault, she was unbalanced in his directions; a clink in her form had just come for the demon to exploit. The shadow connecting the two beasts fluttered right before Mizuki feet. Free of using his full mobility, Cursan launched a web of sticky dark magic on her arms just as her magic started to weaver for the shock. Goo connected the demon and the God Slayer, the two becoming more and more entangled the more Mizuki's body jerked in surprise. Wines from the shadow below completed the trap. The monster of Midi was effectively at their mercy, if probably for the second it would have taken her to come back to her sense and blow up the shadowy clutches.

And a second was exactly what Cursan and Sa'luk needed to tip the scales of the fight in a definitive manner. Summoning and concentrating more power he ever had in his shadow, the assassin behind Cursan visage roared with fury. A trembling of the ground preceded the coming of the boom.

Indeed, it would take only a second for her to break up the shadowy clutches that threatened to engulf her. Rage filled her system, lending strength to her magic as it ripped away the vines. Her smile was wry when the little stunt was revealed; Cursan playing the little humanoid wrapped in shadows, which meant the behemoth behind her was Sa'luk. "Figures." Alas, she did not have much time to reminisce about this before finding herself airborne.

"Darkness Devil's Eruption ".

That was one of Sa'luk simpler attacks: but simple moves are sometimes to best, if one can add to their simplicity a substantial amount strength. And the power packed from the attack was truly worthy of a volcanic eruption. Massive amounts of darkness, evoked from the earth below the earth, surging with geyser-like speed. Sa'luk could help that Mizuki's would have been amused, if not even proud of the emulation; of course, if only she hadn't been the one caught in the maelstrom.

A column of Darkness rushed about, soaring high in the sky. For the immense pressure from belowe, Mizuki's willowy body was launched above in the sky, a human projectile thrown in the terse night of Midi. Sa'luk assessed she had reached hundreds of feet in altitude, perhaps even thousands. A flight that would have devastated most mages, but not Mizuki, Sa'luk had no doubt about that. However, he had succeeded in separating the God Slayer from her mother Earth. Mizuki had much lesser means of defending herself or attacking while on air, incapable of raising volcanoes from below when separated from the ground. And that was not even counting her current state of utter confusion she was surely versing in, the dizziness of crossing heights where even most birds dared not to fly with the speed of a projectile.

Finding herself soaring hundreds if not thousands of feet was not where she would prefer to be. She could feel a physical separation from Mother Earth, one that hurt psychologically as the two cried for the other. Then dizziness ensued as she climbed higher. Lava continued to pool around her form, though it was weaker then before. A culmination of factors such as the exorcisms, being airborne, and the use of copious amounts of magic power that would leave normal mages on death's door finding an intersection.

Flying and inducing chaos. He was already a master of the latter; its mastery over his demonic heritage allowed him to perform the first action. Two vast wings sprouted from Sa'luk shadowy form, shaped like that of a bat, yet with a span it could have encompassed elephants. After a nod, Cursan sunk in the shadow; the extension Cursan had commanded to deceive Mizuki coiled back to his main source of power, the simulacra of his old semblance.

As the snake of darkness was making his return to the nest, Sa'luk horrid wings flapped with haste. More of the beast emerged from the pool of black ooze: a black pelvis with no virtue, long, muscular legs, clawed feet. The monster flying from the shadows may not have been on par with giants, but was still colossal compared to normal humans. Cursan was smiling in happiness, its gaping maws curled in delight, : while his captivity had stopped become a burden since he had met his discipline, he still missed so much his former strength, his former stature. When he was not the stooge of a Dragon Goddess, but a prince among demonkind and a nightmare among nations. The shadowy form obtained to Devil synchronization freed itself from the ground completely. He trailed behind Mizuki's falling body, ready to further tangle the God Slayer above the clouds, bathed in the light of the moon and stars.

Finally, her climbing would cease. Now, Mizu was in free-fall, speeds increasing exponentially as the world rushed to meet her. Gravity didn't plan on being kind to her; not that she cared at that particular moment. By some miracle she managed to maintain consciousness, though she noted it would do little good here. Some small part of her mind that was not entangled in dizziness and vertigo sensed a massive, looming magical figure. "Great. Just what I needed right now. Mr. Demon Bitch finding himself." Mizuki thought, her mood souring further. The lightning faded as she regressed into pure lava, bubbling and furious as she attempted to make life difficult for the rapidly closing in monster.

A feeling of triumph emerged in both Sa'luk and Cursan hearts when they looked at how- or better yet, how not- the falling God Slayer was trying to defend herself. Not with a burning fluid capable of of submerging cities. Not with an bright enchantment to fight darkness with his elemental opposite. The seemingly all-powerful Mizuki had reduced herself in becoming a blob of molten rock. Dangerous for mere humans, but absolutely pathetic against a demon made of shadows, a master of the powers of Darkness. To defeated that form, Sa'luk had just to breath: darkness exploded from its throat in a non verbal Devil Slayer Rage, a beam of such size it completely overshadowed Mizuki's measly figure. An attack like that would have stripped Mizuki of the last specks of strength she had left, flushing away her flowing defenses. Plus, it would have pushed back the mage further in the sky, halting her reunion with Mother Earth.

She swore colorfully, pissed in equal measure. Was that all she could summon? Her fury rose as she confirmed this small fact. Dangerously low meant conserving what little she had left. Mizu made a note to not exorcise anymore people or souls anytime soon: not until she had a handle on the process anyway. However, her attention was diverted as her free-fall was halted, sent to the sky once more. The defense she conjured up would be peeled away like an onion as the attack hit her. She snarled, a last sign of resistance as a small part of her continued to bubble and spit defiantly. Mizuki had better things to do then just roll over.

The beam of Darkness struck Mizuki, unhindered and unopposed. Her defenses had been completely shattered, her body bruised and ragged. To end his opponent once and for all, Sa'luk cocked a punch, summoning a dense sphere on his fist to increase its mass and striking power. With a less than a second of rushing, Mizuki twirling body was already at close range: he launched a trust with full force. A punch which shoot Mizuki's for many other miles in the air. A distance he quickly cover, to punch again. And again. And again. Sa'luk felt like it was a wreaking hammer hitting a wall of flesh, the rage and the dominance over his opponent having completely eclipsed his usual penchant for more subtle ways of torture. Sa'luk could feel the woman's bones breaking, little rushes of blood spewing from her mouth. With every strike, every collision of his fists against the God Slayer, Sa'luk did only grow stronger and stronger.

He could have punched his way either to the end of the world, or the point where only a smear on his hand would have remained of the beautiful Tetsuya's fiancée. Alas, a change in the ground above forced Sa'luk to take a different course: with the corner of his eyes, he noticed that the mummified trees had been replaced with a green carpet, the barren soil with humus. The air was silent no more: birds and animals below were hearing the ruckus, and they were jumping in their nests in fear. In his furious punching, Sa'luk and Mizuki had crossed the border between Midi and Minstrel, where life was still pulsing. Someone, a hunter or woodcutter, may have noticed the scene. The two could not allow any potential witness in their massacre.

Sa'luk stopped his assault; with the hand he used to deliver his strongest punches he grabbed Mizuki. The young woman barely fitted the demonic grip, a fragile thing at the mercy of a monster. An end truly suiting a slaughterer of innocents. She had massacred multitudes with no mercy thanks to her exceedingly powerful magic; she true deserved an equally gruesome end by the hand of an even stronger and more eldritch being. Without some careful leaps, Sa'luk got to land. Looking at Mizuki, he could see her breathing heavily, the emerald hue of her eyes still piercing to darkness. Beaten and bloodied as she was, her face resembling nothing of the elegant and pallid visage she bore before the beat-down, she was still conscious. The Slayer could have crushed her in a pinch; but there was something he wanted to know, he needed to know. Something relating to her permanence in Dawn Horizon.

The face of Cursan unravels in may shadowy vines. Sa'luk wanted to look Mizuki face to face. His skin was still shrouded in a dark miasma, his eyes glowing of cold gold. While still keeping control of the demons arm, and ready to summon tendrils or strangle Mizuki's had she even thought of attacking, Sa'luk lowered himself to the Devil Slayer.

"Before I crush every cubic inch of your body, there is a thing you'll have to tell me. Try to lie me or answer me with some sarcastic bullshit will only make your death a thousand time slower and more painful. You had surely committed these massacres before you had joined Dawn Horizon. So, what is your business with a Guild like ours? In the beginnings, you may have believed, given our fame and strength, that it was a nest of psychopaths of the same kind as yours. Perhaps a bunch of degenerates, merrily spreading hell throughout Ishgar... But Tetsuya, Sabrina, Lindsey, Dyson, Violet... they are some of the most- no, they are the nicest and most caring people I've ever met. The idea of partaking in or condoning your atrocities would have never crossed their minds. And you surely must have understood that; otherwise, you'd have never agreed to become engaged with Tetsuya after so much time spent with him.

So, tell me, you disgusting monster, is that all part of some sick joke of yours? Or maybe it was some kind of insidious machination: are you a member of some kinda of crazed cult or some cabal of bloodthirsty God Slayers, infiltrating in Dawn Horizon just to gather our secrets and kill us all? Who are your accomplices? How have you fooled Sabrina for so long? How have you fooled Tetsuya for so long? Tell me: how a butcher of children like you has got the love and acceptance of kind people like Dawn Horizon? Answer me." He growled, almost screamed. "ANSWER ME!"

Mizuki spat out blood. She knew several ribs where broken, her face was likely a mess and a half. The rest of her was more of the same: shambles. Yet she grinned, somehow she found the nerve to grin, emerald gaze glittering with amusement, enjoying every second of this affair somehow. Somewhere in the thick haze of the shadowy prison, the redhead took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself like the ravenhead had. Instead of getting mad, he was contemplating how to get even. So she decided she would follow his example, even as the others railed and raged, magic signals flaring and demonstrating their desperation.

She gathered herself, listening to Sa'luk's railing fury. Somehow, someway, Mizuki laughed. "Two reasons. One, I was bored. I didn't have to join, I routed Tetsuya just like Sabrina before me. It was a change of pace and meant something new. Second, the guild had a dragon. I didn't know when I would have the opportunity to meet one again, considering Acno did a damn good job of killing them off along with millions if not billions of other races, creatures, civilizations etc. Four centuries is an awful lot of time to get shit done."

Now, she turned to lecture, "They are the nicest people? I'm pretty sure a good portion of them weren't so nice before they joined this guild. Maybe you should look into their histories just a bit. I'm sure Cursan can tell you how tight of a leash the Dragon had on him all those centuries ago. Destroying cities because she found a need to? Check. Lindsey? She was a princess of thieves. Steal anything that caught her eye, particularly treasure whether the previous owner was rightful or not. Dyson was out to make gains from himself, swindle, steal money and gains from all of the wealthy. Violet seems like a nice lass, given the fact that her original task was to wipe Tetsuya off the face of the Earth with her squad."

Her smirk broadened. "And dear Tetsuya. You met him when he had feelings, a sense of responsibility. He was a destitute just like me, an orphan just like you. And he killed, plundered and destroyed because it meant survival. Did I mention in those days he enjoyed it as well? But all of this is in the past no? No need to worry about it because they're all happy and good people now." Her laugh rang out once more. "Monsters come in all shapes and sizes little Sa'luk, not all of them are out murdering. There are so many ways to be cruel, sadistic and ruthless. So many ways. I'm willing to bet that there were quite a few of them in this little country too. Hiding, biding their time. You'll have to realize eventually the world is just one big pot of grey. You're all black and white scheme will fall apart sooner or later. I'm a disgusting monster? You should know this saying: People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Isn't that what you're doing now?"

She coughed, blood spilling out. "You should really learn all of your histories before making broad generalizations about good and evil, especially when relying on someone who was just as bad as me if not worse, especially since he's lived far longer than I have."

Sa'luk laughed savagely, almost dementedly. His grip turned even harder, aiming at squeezing Mizuki, popping her blood like a tomato. "Do not even compare yourself and what you've done to the rest of Dawn Horizon. I am not an insane as you are. All the most evil act the other members of Dawn Horizon have committed were done either out of necessity or desperation. What I sensed while I touched the boy was nothing but pure and unadulterated sadism. The people of Midi had done nothing to deserve your wrath: they had nothing to offer you, but the enjoyment of tormenting them and destroying their life out of cruelty. That is evil beyond compare. And, about Cursan he..."

"She's right, Sa'luk".

The connection between demon and host dwindled, their perfect synchrony going off for a second. A fraction which let Mizuki slipping from the pulls of shadows, falling on her knees. The demon was stopping his protégé murdering the young girl as much as the contract he had made with Sa'luk allowed him to do.

"Cursan..." Sa'luk could have compelled his father to obey his murderous will, crushing Mizuki once and for all. But first, he wanted to truly know why his partner was so hesitant at killing the God Slayer. "I did not tell you to stop".

"You need to listen me, boy". Said the demon, in a way that Mizuki's too could have heard their conversation. "She's right about a lot of things. For sure, she hit the bullseye in profiling me. I was a monster, made of the same dough as she is. I too trampled over thousands of lesser being, just because I desired to assert my superiority. To feel strong, powerful, feared. There was no need for me to wage wars in the sands of Desierto. Nothing that compelled me to obliterate cities or cast endless nights. Demons like me have cruelty and a drive for dominance ingrained in our very fiber, flowing in our bones; but we need not to hear the voices in our head. With a little more effort, we can turn off our natural ferocity, using our powers responsibly. I'd never thought of responsibility a moment of my life until they sealed him in that rusty relic you're wielding as a weapon. I would say I'd have never consider an altruistic action without meeting you".

"You're paying the price of your former evil", frost still seeped in Sa'luk's voice "by spending an eternity imprisoned in the Sword of Fog. Your new life is dedicated to atonment, your natural ferocity serving true justice. Yours is a penance that will last forever. What about her? Does she feel a shred of remorse for her actions? I refuse to just let the responsible of a genocide simply falling in Tetsuya's warm embrace, like nothing ever happened. The people of Midi must have their due justice".

"And it won't change a damned thing for them. Their very spirits have just recently passed to a better plane of existence, were they will finally receive the justice they deserve, each of them his punishment or reward. This is not something we can do on our own. We cannot undo the horrors Mizuki committed, no matter how much gruesomely we torture her, no matter how painful we make her death. Our mission is to save the world from people still inflicting pain and misery on other. Not killing the ones walking the road of redemption".

The words of Cursan sparked a change in Sa'luk's aura. Its mass of darkness retreated, the seething cold of his body becoming less chilling, less cruel. Doubts were taking place in his mind, their roots shaking the almost unbreakable resolve of the assassin. Could someone like Mizuki truly change for the better?

"Cursan... she is already an adult woman. If she were a little kid, we could have thought her better ways. Tempering her natural fury with love and kindness. Grown up people do not alter ingrained habits with ease. Plus, what..."

"What is suggesting me that she is changing? Well, I've felt something from her exorcism before, while you were wallowing in anger. Peace, soothing from herself and spirits of those she had murdered. I can see genuine remorse behind her walls of sass, flippancy and awful temper. It is but a speck in the darkness, but is shining brighter everyday.

We can cultivate that linger of humanity. Making it radiate, until it dissipates all bitterness, all sadism. Turning her fierceness in care and warmth. Have you paid attention to the way she smiles whenever she looks in Tetsuya's eyes? The gentleness she caresses his hands and cheeks with? It is almost shocking to see so much love coming from such a violent volcano. But she has finally learned to care; she just needs to accept that better part of herself and making it the dominant one. Mizuki has the potential for doing wonders for the world, far greater than I could ever do. She touched borders above her godly mother herself. A being like that could make your dreams of a just world coming into reality".