Chapter 934: The Ironclad Hold Of A Devil
Like a punch thrust through the very bowels of hell, from one part of the world to another, the devilish monster of impossible proportions dragged the tridents through the depths of the hell’s oceans. Sinking into the mantle of the world, its fist closed around the many ships, the monster drew them through the seventh to the very first layer of the hells, but right before it would hit the core of darkness, the beast changed direction and punched up.
Away from the domain of Nerva, it tore through oceans of blood and magma. Shattered the ribs of giant beasts and legions of tormented souls boiling in the hells. And as it first erupted through the sands of the oceanic desert, its eruption reverberated through the dunes with a shockwave strong enough to strip the mightiest of Atlarian beasts of its hide.
Slowly opening its fist, the devil beast let go of the ships like a veteran would a nursed and healthy pigeon. To it, the tridents were mere specks of dust, meant to be left at Eclanor’s foot just as his master Luseferious had commanded it to. But that was all the beast had heard, and making the journey comfortable had never come up in its thought process.
Thus, stumbling and struggling to breathe, the inhabitants of the ships fanned themselves and chugged pitchers of water for the flames of the hells had touched them. And much like it had touched the heroes once, it would change them in a similar way. Aged like wine, the soldiers received a new passive title popping up in their heads.
’Hell touched.’ What did it mean? The hero already knew, for he too had gone through change, and the immaturity left of their young adult bodies had waned to peel over a sturdier hide. Even so, with a click of his tongue, Raven hoped that the soldiers would be left just as they were. The commoners were spared the worst of it, but it seemed after a quick inspection that only the fighters amongst them had been affected. The rest? They felt a draw towards their own aspects.
For Darius, it was a flash of knowledge of the profane and the inscriptions needed to write scrolls, most impure. For Reina, it was a heart burning within her very heart and the fiery fervour that now coursed through her veins, aching for her to strike the hammer and instill the essence of hell into her creations.
Many others were affected, such as Brenna, Aerin, even Moxy, and Jenna. All had their own ephaphinary–though the time to explore such things had to wait, the same as they had to wait for this mess to be over before Raven could try to decipher the powers he had gained after losing his demonic part.
"Smoke..." The silence left behind by the retreating hand of stone was finally cut short by Regalia’s words. Onlooking the kingdom of Eclanor, the tridents faced a land bursting into flames. Quiet and muffled screams could be heard even from the ships. A grand section of the front wall had been knocked over, and the city itself was set aflame and in tatters.
"Were we too late?" Raven walked over to the controls and peered out into the distance through the front window. "I can still hear people. We need to get there NOW!"
To his orders, the helm’s men started the engines and set sail again. Pushing the lever for speed all the way, Regalia led the charge for the rest of the tridents to follow right behind them. Smoke and ash obscured most of the kingdom’s view; even so, as the ships flew closer, more and more people became visible on the ground. Some burning, others calming the fire on their houses and on their friends and family members.
The sight of tragedy soured the taste in everyone’s mouth. Some aboard the very ship called Eclanor, their home, and as such, seeing it aflame, their heart dropped, and their spirit to fight dragged the same way their tears dragged down their throats.
"Wait," pulling on the acceleration lever, Regalia abruptly stopped the trident and looked down. "Melenai, isn’t that her down by the collapsed wall?"
Pointing out what appeared to be a body instead of a living person, Regalia quickly turned to the voice ducts and yelled.
"RESCUE THE SURVIVORS FROM THE FLAMES! AND KILL ANY ENEMY YOU FIND!" Screaming her heart out to let out some steam, she turned her head to Raven and whispered in a hushed voice. "You should go check if she’s alive. I’ll lead the rescue mission."
With a silent nod, the hero was on his way. The weight of people’s lives weighed heavily on his shoulders, but the path of the general had finally taught him something.
’You cannot save everyone, Raven.’ He told himself, looking out of a window in the passageways at the cloud of smoke rising to the sky. ’Still...Fucking coward! Attacking when we couldn’t defend the city!’
Hatred coiled in his heart for a moment, only for him to be reminded of Nightsilver’s words. Hate, anger, and scorn towards the divine, that is what had corrupted him in the end, that is what birthed the demon lord in the very face of humanity’s savior. A surge of disgust took over him instead. What was he meant to do if not hate these gods?
"We’re gonna beat them to death, is what we’re gonna do," he whispered, stomping his way over to his companions’ chambers.
His grip had grown stern and stiff as steel from hatred and contempt. But instead of letting it escape, allowing it to feed the carnage of this grand stage, Raven gave it form and confined it within his dark aura. Giving it a sprinkle of red like a dark suit tainted by a spray of blood. As he walked, the patch appeared in his coat, and that coat’s dark fur collar soaked the rest.
Helga was right. A coat helps. Not only to get into character, but to carry some of the burden that comes with the responsibility of many a thousand lives.
