noveldrama
Chapter 109: Besieged
Chapter 109: Besieged
Chapter 109: Besieged
Previously: While Issei, Vali, Azazel, and Sirzechs' entire peerage alongside Saitama, Rover, Asia, and Rossweisse were in Alfheim, Rias and Sona endured and passed a surprise test from the Demons as they faced the victims of Devilkind's incompetence, cruelty, and negligence - humans whose wiped minds were restored by the Demons, volunteered to test Rias and Sona their mettle and ideals.
They recently arrested Mordax after killing his entire Peerage.
However…
Author's Notes:
Okay, for those who may be confused: This story is undergoing revision, and the rewrite has reached chapter 5. This chapter is merely to show the audience how far the current version has gone.
To tell you the truth, both me and i4md347h only want to focus on rewriting and covering some plot holes in the beginning, there is a chance that the plot and arc in the middle to the latest chapters will only require small revision or nothing at all.
Winged Devils, servant warriors of the Noble Clans, swarmed the skies over the fief, the farmlands of the Bael, serf Devils escorted from their homes as they took to the skies. However, everyone could not help but to glance at their escorts every now and then as they evacuated - the soldiers guarding them had become completely different from the last time they saw them.
Back then, the bodyguards were already physically fit, but now - their frames were shredded with muscles from neck to toe. Their outfit and equipment had become more spartan-like, showing off their packed limbs and torso that could seemingly grind meat with ease.
From one of the higher landscapes overseeing the process, Zeoticus Gremory stood as one of his lieutenants approached.His lieutenant was a capable man able to contend against other High Class Devils, but in this age, such titles were meaningless in the face of the strong, the growing threat of the world crunching down the class systems the Underworld maintained for centuries.
Especially when an existence that could end their world loomed over their heads, waiting for the right time to destroy them if it wasn't for the protection of the strongest man.
Zeoticus had never felt stressed even knowing that they were neighbors with the numerous Pantheons and the Great Red. It was a miracle that the Dragon of Dragons did not consider conquering Midgard.
Golden Sperm of the Saitama family was responsible for training their soldiers into a capable fighting force that could stand up against the threat against the world…
Though the result was questionable because his lieutenant was unreasonably buff. Literally, he had almost three times the muscle mass compared to before.
"Report," Zeoticus spoke.
"All of the civilians in the area have been evacuated. We are sending them to the shelter you designated in the Gremory domain."
"Make sure no harm comes to them. And double your patrols around the perimeter."
Zeoticus' eyes were locked onto the main estate, never looking at his servant as he flew off to the skies.
He wished he could join his wife, ancestor, and the rest in assaulting the mansion, but he unfortunately lacked Venelana's firepower and Runeas' mastery of Gremory clan-magic to be useful in the battlefield. Thus, he - along with some of Sairaorg's peerage and that of Diehauser's - remained standing guard around the perimeter, evacuating the citizens.
Why was he evacuating the citizens of the Bael territory?
His gut feeling and instincts were screaming at him to do it.
His founding ancestor told him to 'trust his instincts,' for even if the Gremory's Divination bloodline was diluted, it would always guide him on the right path.
So he acted on that instinct, giving himself to it.
He could feel that something terrible was about to happen if he did not, something… karmic. He did not know why it was karmic, but he could almost feel a rage from the future, feeling the echo, a rage that was directed at the Devils for what Mordax had done.
He did not know what Mordax did, but it was something that would make his life infinitely more difficult, he could feel it almost.
Suddenly, he received a telepathic call - someone wanted to speak to him. His eyes widened as soon as he recognized the magical signature prodding his mind.
He quickly conjured a small Gremory crest on top of his palms, revealing a holographic image of his daughter.
[...Father?]
"Rias!" Zeoticus' expression brightened up, he ended up shouting out of joy, garnering several looks from nearby subordinates, "Where are you? Are you injured? Let me know your location, I will personally-"
[Father, please! I am alright! Listen to me!]
Rias' voice managed to calm her father down a little.
[Has my brother returned, with Grayfia, Ise and Mr. Saitama?]
Zeoticus grimaced a little, "I'm afraid they are still in Alfheim, trying to find Grayfia. Where are you? Are the others with you as well?"
[I am on my way back with the others. But there is something important I need to tell you, father. The one behind this-!]
An explosion erupted from the Mordax estate, Zeoticus looking at the side of the building as he sensed a foreign surge of power he had never sensed before in his years.
He turned towards the distance when he heard a primal chorus of roars, giant monsters roaring all at once so far yet so loud it sounded so close, the air rumbled and blurred from the vibrations alone, the colors of the sky blending distorted colors.
And then the cause of Zeoticus' feelings arrived in a stampede.
Oh how he wanted to eviscerate Mordax at this moment when he saw the hordes of monsters roaring a name.
[Mordax! I'll kill all filth-bloods, your kind! How dare you take my son?!]
He really, really wanted to strangle Mordax at this moment.
[… Die…]
Everyone stared at the dinosaur-like lizard man, the savage creature pointing at them, speaking in broken Devil tongue.
"...It spoke? In Demori Sheol?" Black cursed.
It just spoke in Demori Sheol - the language of the Devils, broken and simple words, but enough for them to understand its malicious intent.
[Arrogant soft meat… No honor, you deserve! Take me from home… Killed packmates… tried to make me slave! So I kill your friends! Then I kill you!]
They could not believe that a creature not even a year old could have the capacity to speak the modern language, at least by transformation age.
"Wait!" Venelana spoke to the lizardman. "I understand your circumstances, I am sorry! But we are not with your captors! We're here to defeat him!"
She attempted diplomacy. She did not want to receive her brother's karmic retribution.
It was so unfair, he deserved to die by this thing's fangs infinitely more.
[...Deceiver!]
It growled, pointing at Venelana.
[I smell your blood! I hate your blood! Sister! Filth spawn! Family has come to put me in metal cage! All must die!]
Venelana grimaced as the lizardman brandished his bone spear. She was gnashing her teeth behind her closed lips, brimming with ire for her relative.
"Well, negotiation is barred. Fucking nose… but honestly, I want to give Mordax a piece of mind once this is over. The ancient demon pricks must be laughing at us right now, I know they're watching this," Runeans dryly remarked.
No words could convince the creature at this point, especially in a hostile encounter. It was utterly convinced that they were with Mordax by blood relations alone. Persuasion was no longer an option.
[You! Poisoned one! Either Yach kills you… or her!]
The lizardman pointed at Sairaorg.
The red-spined white drake hissed as it raised its talon, threatening to kill Kuisha pinned beneath it. The creature was named Yach apparently, and it shared the lizardman's hate for them.
"...I understand your anger… but-"
[No honor! Mordax's blood deserves none! Now choose!]
It snapped at him.
Sairaorg had many things to say, but it would fall on deaf ears. The only thing he had at this point was boiling regret for not doing anything to stop his father at this point… maybe this was punishment for secretly seeking his father's approval by dominating the Rating Games, by becoming a King.
The lizardman knew he was poisoned, yet still threatened him to let himself die or he loses his Queen, refusing to yield even an ounce of honor.
He saw Kuisha looking up at him.
"My King… forgive me for being a burden…" Kuisha smiled weakly.
"Don't say that." Sairaorg hardened his mien as he glared at the pale drake. "You are my Queen. You will never be a burden."
He walked up to the creature and stopped. He spread his arms wide as if daring at the drake to take the shot.
"Hey, hey. You know what you're doing, muscles?" Black called out, his eyes darting between Sairaorg and the draconic creature.
Sairaorg did not answer. His eyes locked onto the red eyes of the drake, seeing its malice, its desire to kill anything related to Mordax. He understood where the malice came from. It was a shame that he was a casualty of his father's sins.
Fearlessly, Sairaorg stood tall despite his ailments, and jabbed his thumb over his chest where his heart is, "...Give me your best shot."
The creature squinted. It hissed, then its tail blurred. Its tail was swift, faster than Sairaorg expected as the trident of red thorns hit his throat.
Venelena, Diehauser, Regulus, Black and Runeas gasped.
The Drake's eyes widened with a confused shrill.
The red thorn barely pierced the Devil's jugular, blood dripping down in slow trickles.
His hands grabbing the red spines of the tail, Sairaorg roared as he tugged hard and twisted his upper body before the Drake wizened.
The drake was confused. Why was this weak, two-legged thing able to lift it? None of its kind could do anything similar, cowards that preferred to drug its meals instead of dying by its claws, teeth, and tail.
Sairaorg threw it at the bulky lizardman, the pale drake roaring in confusion, but the lizardman raised its hand.
The drake froze in midair, stuck as if held by an invisible force, a dirty moss-green hue coating the creature like a second skin.
The Devils did not know what it did, but not Black.
Black could not believe his eyes. For a moment, his mind flashed to when he fought the weakened Tatsumaki; he could not forget the presence of psychic energy when it killed many of him, a memory of the time when the Monster Association was at its final stand as his many clones died by psychic green.
The pale drake was released as it landed on the floor on all four talons.
[Mordax Spawn… I will make your skull a trophy, fill it with your blood and mashed innards, and burn it at the altar of Garu!]
The lizardman, his coherency evolved from spite, promised Sairaorg. Garu was most likely their interpretation of their God's true name, missing a letter.
Sairaorg saw an opening.
"I am a follower of the Demon God, Garou!" Sairaorg roared.
The Lizardman growled in confusion. His pale drake, Yach, and the dark spiny hounds growled in confusion upon hearing the name of the Demon God.
He dropped his bone spear and stomped towards Sairaorg faster than anyone could react, his maw and teeth so close to Sairaorg as he roared at the highest volume right in his face.
Sairoarg could smell the blood and iron, digested Devil flesh hitting his nostrils as he stood strong, unflinching.
[Liar!]
"I do not lie! The Demon God saved my mother from her illness! I owe him my life!"
The Lizardman glared at Sairaorg, crimson bloody eyes gazing at Sairaorg's calm resolute mien with so much intensity that it could pulp his skull.
Sairaorg did not flinch in the face of its ire.
The creature's swamp aura flared as its aggression reached its limits.
[Filthy blood!]
Venelana and the others were prepared to strike, but Sairaorg raised his hand, stopping them as he stepped forward.
The sound of grated metal came first, yet the sparks were already there, the twin bone axes crossed against each other, slicing Sairaorg's hair, but Sairaorg's fist already met the creature's stomach.
He was the disciple of the Strongest Man. How could he face Issei and Saitama if they heard that he lost because of some poison?
Sairaorg did not stop as he uppercutted the creature's jaw, knocked the creature off its feet to the ceiling - he had already removed the weight and gravity seals off his limbs as he jumped and threw a right hook.
The creature croaked as Sairaorg sent it to the wall, crashing against the bookshelves beside the bloody mural of the Demon God.
The creature roared as he rose, bloodied and vigorous with feral rage.
Sairoarg was impressed by this creature, even though he was not at his best condition, it stood strong.
[Your sire is a coward!]
The creature's proficiency with the Devil's language seems to be increasing in its anger. Usually, intelligence would diminish under intense wrath, seeing the opposite happening was unusual.
It threw its bone tomahawks, whirling like boomerangs. Sairoarg prepared to catch or deflect it, but it hovered past him. No, Sairaorg saw that the axes were orbiting him, circling him like vultures as the creature marched towards him.
[Your blood is filth! Sons of cowards dare to claim worship of the Demon God! Heresy!]
He clicked his tongue as he activated his Touki despite knowing that it would accelerate the poison's ravaging his insides.
The circling tomahawks closed its orbit, nearing him the closer the creature approached.
He stared at the lizardman's blood-colored eyes as its fingers flexed and claws elongated to knife-like lengths.
[I will chew on your bones and feed the rest to my pack! Die!]
It swung as the tomahawks swooped in.
"My King!" Regulus cried out as Sairaorg blocked the creature's by the wrist.
In retaliation, Sairaorg also countered with a punch, where his fist was caught in the Lizardman's claws, ax blades cutting his ankle tendons and his waist on the second rotation.
They were deadlocked for dominance. The pressure was immense, Sairaorg could feel its might pushing him back.
Sairaorg could hear the rotating axes whistling towards his neck as the creature pulled his arms wide and lifted him off his feet. Sairaorg spread his devil wings and took flight and, using a certain baldy as inspiration, bashed his skull against the creature's snout, knocking his head back as he uppercutted his gut once, twice, the third smashed against its jaw.
But it replied with an uppercut to his gut, sending him flying to the ceiling, Sairaorg coughed as he glimpsed it catching a tomahawk and threw it at him.
He reacted fast and clapped, catching the first tomahawk, the bone blade so close to his eyes.
A sharp pain impacted his midriff, forcing him to cough blood. It was the second tomahawk lodged in his stomach.
But he ripped it out of his gut as the creature jumped, Sairaorg hammered his fist into the ceiling, launching him back down and dodging, ducking the snapping jaws as he hooked its foot with his stolen weapon and dragged it down, roaring as he slammed it into the floor.
In his pain, Sairaorg could feel something breaking inside him. He didn't know what, but the more power he tried to call upon from within, the more audible the echoes of the shattering was.
The poison of Yamata No Orochi and the Lernean Hydra had fused into something greater than either combined, enhanced by the power of the Trihexa, three highly compatible creatures synergizing to the point its poison could decimate Gods and their work.
Djall perfectly replicated this poison on Issei in Alfheim, modified it to destroy Boosted Gear and the Red Dragon within. It eroded not only the Sacred Gear, something thought to be indestructible, but also God's limiters, something also believed to be untouchable.
The poison was not limited to Sacred Gears. God cursed his creations, the Curse of Babylon and Curse of Eden was in the blood of the Devil race, Lucifer being a child of man before abandoning his humanity to circumvent God's curse. In a twist of irony, Lucifer's son, Rizevim, accidentally laid the foundation and created something that could destroy anything of the Divine.
The poison of the new Yamata No Orochi was so potent it could erode the limitations God placed on Man.
If it were a weak individual, they would melt into a puddle of unrecognizable toxic goop, flesh, soul, and bones, no exceptions.
But the evolved Dragon disregarded Sairaorg and doused him and the Nemean Lion in a light dose of the poison, not bothering with the fly, as it was tasked with creating chaos and attracting as much attention as possible in the most destructive of ways. It did not fully test the capabilities of his supreme poison and its limitless potential.
Sairaorg absorbed all of the poison to save the Nemean Lion from the brunt of the God-slaying poison.
Sairaorg was no ordinary Devil, blessed to meet the Strongest Man and learn under him, aspiring to be him.
He withstood the poison with his indomitable will and the help of the healers, but the poison was still eating away at him.
It was staved off by the curses of God, the Curse of Ophibian thrived from the God-Slaying poison on the other hand as its origins were different, a stronger, evolving curse.
The poison was eating away at Sairaorg's God-placed limiters, attracted to it due to its nature against the divines, and the breakdowns of the limiters accelerated the more Sairaorg attempted to break through his limits to defeat this creature.
However, in a twist of irony, nothing would stop the poison from eating his soul away once the limiters were destroyed, possibly permanently eradicating his existence.
He yanked, pulled the tomahawk and yanked the lizardman by the foot as he hopped onto his back and slammed the other tomahawk into its shoulder. It roared, but was silenced as Sairaorg slammed it back down into the floor.
The spectators, both monsters and Devils, watched Sairaorg brutally beat down the creature, punching the back of its head back into the floor again and again.
The creature screamed with fury as its swamp-green aura blasted Sairaorg away as its aura manifested into something.
Sairaorg landed back meters away as he watched its aura take form as a larger spirit body, a draconic body of thick, chaotic green energy as it turned to face Sairaorg, the creature serious, radiating murderous intent.
Runeas was shocked to see this level of Aura mastery from a transformed creature. It was similar to Sirzechs and Ajuka's True Forms, but different, a Ki-based manifestation of their souls, avatars of their essence taken shape.
Usually, only very high-level Ki practitioners could pull this off.
Energy gathered in the mouth of the spirit dragon body, crackling green power raging in its maw as it compressed and condensed.
[Die!]
It fired at Sairaorg, green energy born from the miracles of the Demon God, a psionic beam flying to Sairaorg.
If this hit him dead on, Sairaorg knew that he would die. But he clenched his fist and stood his ground.
Unknown to him, his limiters shattered completely.
A surge of power he never knew was there, something unknown yet so familiar yet never disover coursed through his body as he punched the beam in a straight collision.
"HAAAAH!"
BOOM!
From the shattering of God's limitations, half of his true potential was unleashed.
The air and space themselves trembled as the psionic beam was prematurely dispersed, replaced by a concentrated shockwave that shot towards the creature's green avatar of a dragon, who could only watch with shocked eyes, unable to dodge in time.
The shockwave obliterated everything in Sairaorg's path - the floor, the walls and beyond as the pseudo-dragon and the nearby shadow beasts were engulfed in the dust-cloud.
Not long after she recovered from her Sleeping Disease by the powers of this enigmatic, world-destroying Demon God, Mordax Bael summoned her back to the main estate. The messenger claimed his master wanted to congratulate her recovery in person and… 'catch up' as the others say.
She should have known better. The man never saw her as his wife, something lesser, ever since her son's 'defect' came to light. She understood him more than enough to know her position as a 'hostage.' She had grown suspicious of her husband's 'business' for years, and had been gathering information from the servants she picked herself, but she also wanted to know the current state of affairs in person.
Much to her mild surprise, however, upon her arrival, she was ordered by Mordax to remain in her assigned quarters until summoned, their greetings shorter than she expected.
Then she was interrupted while she was sitting, drinking a cup of her favorite tea while chatting with her personal butler, when the screams cried outside the door.
Her butler immediately stepped out to see what was happening. He swiftly returned, face pale with a mien of horror as if he witnessed something terrible. When she asked what happened, he implored her with an urgency she had never heard him use that they remain in the room.
He witnessed monsters killing the estate servants and guards before he ran away. He believed that it was best to let the guards deal with the problem.
Misla, however, was not a woman that would remain idle when innocents, even if they were under her husband's employ, were in danger. Also, hiding in the bedroom, waiting for the outcome, was a fool's choice.
Using her authority as a high-class devil and the powers bestowed by her ancestors, Misla summoned her trusted partner - a large Komainu, a famous guardian beast from Far East Mythos.
However, when she left the doors, she saw a few servants running up the stairs while hearing screams of terror and begging for their lives before their voices were cut short.
"M-My lady!" The maids cried out with snot and tears when they saw her up the stairs, all holding their long skirts above their ankles to facilitate their running. They were scared, crying for their lives.
"Ghis! What happened?!" Misla asked as she captured the leading maid in her arms.
She knew of these maids. They were her 'spies' - close friends assigned to spy on her husband.
"L-Lord Bael! The beasts he captured, they broke free! T-They're killing everyone!" Maid Ghis' face was a mess, her bundled blue hair undone, her maid dress sporting tears as if claws ran through them.
Misla could parse the shortened information - her husband was dancing with danger, and they were paying the price in his stead.
"Is this everyone here?!" Misla wasted no time, she needed to rescue the servants from retribution.
"N-No! They're still down there! It's too dangerous to go!"
Misla understood her reasons.
"Go upstairs and hole yourself up in my room. I'll return with as many survivors as I can find."
It would be a dangerous task. Unfortunately, she had to do it. She would not let her people be killed by her husband's mistakes. How could she stand amongst the nobility were she to let them die when she had the power to save it?
The maid then held on to Misla's arms with a mortified expression, "M'lady, no! Please come with us!"
"Don't worry, I won't be alone." Misla nodded at her Komainu familiar, who huffed in affirmation.
She was confident in her companion to help them make it through.
"Now return to my room and stay there, that's an order!"
Under Misla's authoritative gaze and tone, the maids were no longer able to protest, their expressions sour. She could still see their concern for her, their love for her.
Ghis nodded and pressed her forehead against Misla. Misla gently smiled as she looked into her maid's teary eyes.
"Please be safe, my lady."
The maids curtseyed, finding the strength to obey.
Misla inhaled as she listened to her maids disappear up the stairs.
"...Alright… Let's undo my foolish husband's mistake. Once this is over, I'll let you chew on him a little."
Mordax deserved some pain in retribution after all.
Misla closed her eyes and clasped her hands in prayer, but a unique hand gesture. Instead of palms pressed together like the standard, this version of the Demon God's prayer had two Buddha one-handed prayer gestures, only the straightened fingers of her right hand was beneath the wrist of her open left hand, all fingers aimed at the ceiling,
"May the Demon God renew me in this trial…"
After the Demon God incident…
Misla transformed into a devoted follower of the Demon God.
Devils respect strength above all else, even more so when the Demon God cured her ailment. Her son cried when he saw her eyes open and her body moving.
In other words, both mother and son followed the Demon God out of courtesy and respect.
OxO
In a cave tunneled out in the Underworld, Garou waited like a statue.
Echoes of pained roared bounced off the eroded walls of the echoes followed by the sound of chewing. He could not turn his head to see Tiamat, staked in her blue dragon form to the ground by the chest by massive spike, her draconic head bound by Trihexa silk and strange biomatter concocted by Djall to choke her dragon breath and strangulate any attempt to draw power from within.
He saw the black-haired creature in human form, in human skin, dragging the intestines of Tiamat as the wounds of the dragon closed in time before he sat down in front of Garou.
Djall tore off a piece of that dark-colored meat and threw it into his mouth, chewing on the exotic flavor of the fallen ancient Dragon.
Djall perked when he noticed a shift in the air as he turned to Garou. His senses have been attuned to notice the silent fluxes of energy that spiked within Garou from time to time.
He was curious.
What was happening within Garou's head?
Cao Cao was out in China to discover ancient spear techniques from his ancestor, to train in the arts of the ancient immortals of Chinese myth.
Siegfried was here with Georg to replicate the tales of Siegfried obtaining immortality by bathing in dragon blood, although in this case Georg was preparing a specialized bloodbath ritual, to upgrade the benefits of bathing in dragonblood in another chamber filled with Tiamat's blood. George was using Tiamat's body parts for alchemical and magical purposes.
Jeanne and Heracles were in Europe to discover more about their past lives under the Malebranche's instructions - by learning about their past lives and re-experiencing them, they would unlock the potential of their past incarnation.
Leonardo was out in the Underworld wilds, learning more about the strong creatures to enhance his understanding of life itself, to enhance his knowledge and thus his power of Annihilation Maker. As well as training his weak body. The boy could handle himself using that chimera battle suit, a part of his own training to become stronger.
As for the rest of the Hero Faction, those with lesser Sacred Gears, they were training in Dimension Lost as they were not ready to challenge the new Underworld.
Djall approached Garou, the man armored in a Sacred Gear-like prison.
He wiped Tiamat's blood off his lips as he pressed his hand on Garou's head, the Malebranche would not mind a peek, connecting his senses to Garou's.
Djall opened his eyes.
It was a vague dreamscape, he was in what looked like a martial dojo Xian Tian brought him under.
The heavenly general that once challenged the Jade Emperor and his Celestial Court taught him many martial secrets he learned from Naraka, ancient forbidden techniques and Mystic Arts, secret demonic elixirs brewed from the souls of the dead and flesh of the sapient among other hidden knowledge.
He saw Garou in his human form, overlooking…
There were a lot of faces in white gis, martial karate uniforms.
Djall had no idea who they were, they were sitting cross-legged in a meditation prayer for some reason, Garou was walking amongst them, looking over them calmly.
Djall stood amongst them, unnoticed, invisible to Garou's senses as he prowled amongst the forest of praying bodies. He stopped when he saw that some of them were not even human, large creatures he did not recognize from myth, like that dinosaur-like lizard man creature. Djall could sense some elements of dragonblood in that creature, heavily infused and evolved from Garou's power.
Who were they? He was confused. One gi-robed individual tilted her head slightly, he could tell that she was female.
The vague misty blur that covered her face parted slightly as Garou stopped, standing beside her.
The woman seemed to be talking, but Djall could not hear the words, they were not meant for him…
He was a clone of Djall, yet was him at the same time, consciousness shared, replicated, the lines between replication and identity blurred into a single unified hivemind.
He was curious as Garou spoke, yet words did not reach Djall. Djall prowled towards the woman, crawling on his hands and feet, scuttling like a cockroach, curious as he wondered if he could connect with her.
He prowled like a predator, unnoticed, on all fours, invisible to their senses. He was close to the woman as he neared his face towards her hair, sniffing it. She smelled like a Devil, old and not a virgin. Reeked of tea leaves and lion fur… no, the lion was there, but it was mixed with something else. Surprising that he could smell her as if she was there.
His hand touched her forehead, connecting to her mind.
Djall could hear vague words… Prayers? This woman was praying to him?
Guidance, renewal…?
He had heard about the rise of a religion dedicated to Garou, but he did not think that a religion would have this effect.
He was now deathly curious.
He could tamper with this woman through this link…
Let's see what he could do with this now that he could tamper with this woman. But he flinched when Garou's hand suddenly shot out and clutching his wrist.
Djall was about to resist when he saw death. He felt death. His instincts screamed danger.
Garous's void expression was looking - no, glaring at Djall. His grip on Djall's wrist tightened and the latter's bone began to scream. Meanwhile, Djall found himself utterly frozen under the pressure emanating from the demon.
[LEAVE.]
Djall immediately withdrew before Garou could have released his hand.
Djall returned to the material world, seeing that Garou's hand was gripping his own in real-time.
Djall hissed-shrieked in multiple voices before he chopped his hand off, softening his flesh to the point of weak-flesh humans before doing the deed. The beast leapt back a distance, keeping his eyes on Garou who remained unmoving on his spot.
His hand regenerated, resprouted like a sapling tree on soil, bones, flesh, nerves, then skin.
It was a rare moment where he felt… small… he did not like that feeling. However, the best he could do was not let it consume him.
Garou disintegrated his severed hand, his Trihexa flesh reduced to smouldering ash through extreme temperatures.
Djall narrowed his three eyes at the GOD-slayer…
He slowly retreated to his meal, the steaming intestines of TIamat. He calmly sat down while his eyes were trained on Garou, slowly pulling the meat to his mouth, the sounds of Tiamat weakly growling in pain echoing throughout the caverns.
OxO
She saw a scene that should only exist in nightmares - corpses everywhere, blood and guts were splattered across the walls and furniture in the first floor living room, the giant lizardman-like creature was doing something with the corpses, laying them around, at least that was what her bat familiar saw before the Lizardman turned and threw its bone tomahawk at it, killing it instantly.
Misla grimaced - she was not near the living room, but this creature was perceptive, showing signs of cunning intelligence.
A howling hissing shriek echoed, the sound a ravenous discord that forced Misla to cover her ears. Her Komainu also flinched at the sound, growling low in displeasure.
"We must hurry, Aungyo!" Misla whispered as hopped onto her Komainu, Aungyo.
Aungyo nodded as he sprinted quietly, sniffing the air for any survivors. Aungyo whined as if there was a problem.
"...How terrible."
Misla clicked her tongue. The stench of blood was too omnipresent, too much gore to track down survivors the usual way.
She flinched as she felt a response from her prayers…
She had heard that sometimes the Demon God answered prayers when they were in need. She could feel that almighty presence, that power that vaporized her body and brought her back from death touching her, a gentle touch.
There was another touch though, it felt… invasive for some reason, but that quickly vanished.
She breathed as her worries in her mind calmed, her senses… she noticed the footprints on the blood.
She heard sounds that were not there before, her instincts were more coherent, an eerie yet profound focus she never knew was possible.
"Thank you…" Misla whispered with sincerity as she knew where to look.
If there were survivors, the first floor was a dangerous location.
They would either flee up or down.
Downstairs were the basement area, but what if the survivors fled back down after all of the monsters escaped?
The secret monster prison was not the only thing that was there…
Mordax's secret room - only a handful of servants would know of it.
Next was the vault holding Mordax's personal treasures, but she doubted many knew the code to enter.
She did not know how many creatures that Mordax captured, but she could hear many heavy footsteps with her enhanced hearing, blessed by the Demon God. The footsteps were rampant, searching for her. Their sense of smell was most likely staunched by the gore.
From the sound of the footsteps, she noticed that they infested the first floor… there would not be survivors there if she searched.
She tested her theory and headed downstairs just in case, heading for the door leading downstairs.
It was a mess, the double-doors shattered with many footsteps, blood trailing from below the mahogany steps, body parts laying around, an arm, an ankle… a head.
Whatever beasts that had been taken captive by Mordax were furious.
Quietly descending the staircases, Misla and Aungyo finally arrived at the floor below. She looked around, not seeing anything moving or alive in sight, and considering her next destination.
She considered checking on the kitchen and the servant's quarters, but her instincts flared up - warning her not to go towards that direction, not to mention the thick scent of blood coming that way.
Regretfully, she changed her course towards the next possible place - Mordax's studies, where he probably kept all of his secrets.
The trip towards the study was short, soon Misla and Aungyo arrived in front of a large door leading to Mordax's office. She tried to open the door and found it was locked. Was it locked by Mordax before he left, or someone had come in and locked themselves during the chaos?
Misla then rapped the door a few times, trying to speak not too loud, but audible enough to reach the other side, "Hello? Is anyone inside?"
[...Lady Misla?]
Relief briefly washed over Misla's features upon hearing a reply from beyond the door, before she inched her ear closer to the door, "Yes, it is I. Are you well? How many are there with you?"
Instead of answering, Misla heard some shuffling, along with several clicks on the door before the door was opened, revealing a dishevelled-looking butler; the look on his aged face was a mixture of surprise, disbelief and relief.
"Lady Misla, it is you…. What are you doing here? H-How did you…" the butler asked while warrily looking around.
"I am aware of the situation. How many are inside?" Misla asked as she tried to peer inside the room.
"Well… Not many, I'm afraid." the butler stepped aside to give Misla a better look.
The servants were huddled - maids, chefs, kitchen-hands and several injured but conscious stewards. They were in what she would call a fetal position, every one of them were terrified, trembling with fear of being the next victim.
"What did Mordax do?" Misla asked as she entered with her Komainu. The butler locked the door behind her.
"I… You know what, this is all his fault! I don't care if he fires me," the butler grit his teeth with spite.
"Mordax is secretly planning a rebellion with the other nobles. They couldn't stand the thought of their power being challenged by the lower class and the coming new era. The creatures you see are from Mordax's irresponsible hunting and poaching…"
"What? Why?" Misla did not understand. Mordax would never poach creatures from the Familiar Forest like this.
"He wanted something that could give him an edge over the Satans and he believed that he could get it from the New Underworld's Familiar Forest. Well, the uncharted forests outside the explored area, and this is the result. That alone is already enough grounds to bring him to trial. We need to leave this place immediately, Lady Misla…"
"While I can teleport us all away from here - not only that I still have to retrieve my own servants from my room, activating a teleportation spell with this many people requires time, and it will alert the monsters to our location. We need to go far enough first undetected."
"But… Very well," the butler sighed, relenting. "What is your next order, m'lady?"
"Since this is my husband's fault, we need to hold him responsible. This is his personal study…" Misla looked around. "Help me search this room, there should be something more incriminating that we can use against him on the court."
The butler nodded, along with the others who were able-bodied, "Unders-"
SCREEEEEEEEECH!
They flinched.
They heard an ear-piercing shriek from the other side of the door, heavy footsteps pounding.
"Oh no, it's those monsters!" the butler cried in panic - the rest of the servants also huddled closer together in fear.
Misla grimaced, they were trapped.
Aungyo growled as he was ready to pounce at whatever dared to break through the door.
However, sudden tremors suddenly shook the entire room, causing everyone to scream in panic as dust and small debris fell down. The wall separating the office and outside shook the most and cracked so that it almost collapsed.
A few seconds after the earthquake later, everything became silent.
Misla and the rest waited for another few seconds before exchanging glances. The lady then gestured to the servants to stay put, and nodded to Aungyo who immediately stood by the door. Misla then prepped herself next to the door, closely listening to any voice outside.
There were only monstrous cries of panic, the shuffling sounds of heavy feet running away from the door.
Whatever happened, it saved them from the monsters.
Kuisha, Diehauser, Venelana, Runeas, Regulus, and Black stared at Sairaorg.
Sairaorg was on his hands and knees, vomiting blood. It was the consequence of believing he could overcome the enhanced Godslaying poison, now unable to stave off the consequences of his choices.
The lizardman before was gravely injured, bloody with shredded scales and a broken arm bent at the wrong angle ninety degrees as the creature stood over him with a tomahawk.
Sairaorg would have slain the creature if he was not severely poisoned.
The lizardman creature dropped his tomahawk and grabbed his broken arm, snapping it back into place without hesitation.
"...Name."
The Lizardman spoke to Sairaorg, who with labored breath and bloodied mouth on his fours, met the lizardman's gaze head-on.
"...Sairaorg Bael."
"Sairaorg Bael…" The lizardman hummed, "You were born of filthy blood. I will kill your sire, but I will spare you. You fought with honor. Deserve honor."
The creature took out something from his pouch he had around his waist.
It knelt and placed it before Sairaorg. Green powder of unknown substances in a hide pouch.
"Medicine. Take. Made by best shaman. But your filth-blood sire's crime will not fade."
"I… know… please spare them. We are here… to punish my father… for his crimes," Sairaorg pleaded as the creature stood over him.
The rest were ready to jump in but this was a delicate situation.
The monsters around them were passive due to the lizardman.
"You fight filthy sire?" The creature asked.
"Yes…"
"I called the tribe when in prayer. They're here. They kill everyone here. Warriors lead by clan chief. Father is chief."
Venelana and Runeas could not believe their ears. Of all the creatures Mordax had to poach, it was the child of a clan leader. This could be considered as a diplomatic incident.
To prove its point, they heard roars and raging outside the mansion, giant monsters of both insectoid and draconian rampaging across the fief farmlands, battling against the winged devil soldiers.
Runeas knew her bad feeling was correct as she and Venelana rushed outside through the missing walls of the mansion Sairaorg destroyed with the shockwave of his punch.
They saw giant Lizardman creatures rampaging across the fields, fighting against the Devil soldiers alongside what Runeas would best describe as drake hounds, like the shadow-spined creatures fighting with the succubus.
The Devil soldiers were not famous for their strength in the military. They were at best decoration when it came to the strong, below even rookie Rating Game players.
However, this time they were holding their ground against the monsters.
Three were holding back a creature more than twice their size, their muscles bulging obscenely as two of them held back the lizardman's arms while the third kept punching it in the jaw.
There were other creatures like an abominable fusion of a grasshopper and a praying mantis, four bladed sickles for hands screeching as it hopped into the air and broke through the Zeoticus' barriers with all four of them, insectoid wings fluttering as it hopped again, chasing after Zeoticus despite being bombarded by magic missiles from the mage devils surrounding them.
It was fast despite its size, and it tore through Zeoticus' left leg with one strike and misstep… Venelana realized that her husband was missing a leg.
The guards were wounded and… were faring surprisingly better than Venelana thought, there were only some casualties as they survived the onslaught of the lizardman troops, but the biggest of them were slaughtering anyone that got close.
[MORDAX! FILTH-BLOOD! WHERE IS MY SON?!]
They heard the feral cries of the largest of the lizardman, bedecked in skulls of large beasts as armor, wearing two different skulls on his shoulders as his pauldron while wearing skinned fur hide from a large unidentified creature, white fur that glistened like diamonds that could break Devil spears and block magic spells assaulting him. He wielded a large bone axe, cleaving through the soldiers that dared to come close, firing a green-eldritch beam of psionic energy from his mouth at the rest of the soldiers, forcing them to either flee or be vaporized under his power.
Seeing the chaotic state of the battlefield, Venelana then turned to the young lizardman, "Please, you have to stop your people! We are not your enemies!"
"Your… kind dragged me here," the creature reminded her.
"Please… we're not… your enemies…" Sairaorg wheezed as Kuisha and Regulus helped Sairaorg, holding him by the shoulder.
His condition stabilized after taking in that strange medicine, but it would not cure him of the strong poison.
The Lizardman stared at Sairaorg.
"...You deserve honor."
The bone tomahawks of the creature flew back into its hands as the creature placed them on his waist.
The creature walked out of the decimated mansion and roared. The Devils and Black covered their sensitive ears to block the volume as its cries reached his clan.
The monsters stopped fighting upon hearing the howl.
[My son!]
The largest of the lizardmen covered in skull armor stopped killing the Devil soldiers and ran.
Venelana and Runeas were surprised to see how much distance a thing of that size covered in less than a second before it knelt down.
The creature was much larger than they thought, it was so large that it could pick the lizardman up with one hand.
The son cried in its primal tongue, chirping and croaking at his father.
The father croaked back with joy before it turned to the rest of the Devils.
Then the father growled at the sight of them.
The son croaked, causing the father to look at him, confused.
The son explained in croaks and hisses before looking at Sairaorg, the father sounded surprised to hear.
It stared at Sairaorg for a moment before it glared at the rest.
It looked up and howled into the air as the lizardman-monster packed stopped their fighting.
"We leave." The son explained. "But your kind no longer welcome in tribe hunting grounds. We kill you on sight now on."
The son was placed on the chief's shoulders as the chief hissed at them with slight hostility and ire before it turned around.
The lizardman chief slammed its tail to the ground, using the impact and momentum to boost itself up as it leapt a great distance towards its kin.
Yach, the white serpentine drake, hissed as it alongside the shadow drake hounds followed the lizardman, running across the plains to join with the rest of the pack, leaving the mansion empty of their presence.
The pack later retreated back where they came, the ones in the rear glaring at the Devils with newfound hatred as peace returned to the fiefdom.
"...We still haven't come for what we're looking for," Runeas spoke to banish the awkward silence.
They arrived to uncover fatal evidence they could use against Mordax Bael. Instead, they had to clean up his mess. A lot of innocent Devils would've died if they didn't arrive, the fault on Mordax's shoulders.
However, before anyone could follow up, they were interrupted by the sound of coughing and wheezing.
"Lord Sairaorg!"
Kuisha cried at the sight of more blood leaving his lips.
"Shiiiit, we warned ya. The poison is finally eating you up. We gotta send ya to the hospital ASAP, muscles… Or you're gonna end up deader than those guys!" Black explained, pointing at the corpses of the massacred Devil servants and guards.
"We need to prepare a teleportation circle! His condition is going critical! Kuisha, Diehauser, assist me!" Runeas ordered.
The aforementioned pair obeyed.
The three high-class devils summoned a teleportation circle under Sairaorg.
Kuisha prayed desperately to the Demon God, even though she did not worship the one who destroyed and remade the Underworld as she found the religion silly. But she was willing to do anything to save her beloved King from the clutches of death, she refused to lose him when she had yet to fulfill her mission to help him achieve his dream - their dream.
"Sairaorg…?"
Everyone then heard an unexpected voice.
Sairaorg stared at his mother, peeking at him from the broken wall.
It was the last sight he remembered before he fell unconscious, the darkness taking him, with death watching him closely nearby.
"Vitals are dropping! His blood pressure is rising!"
"Stabilize him!"
"His organs are failing! His liver is giving out!"
"Resuscitate it!"
"Poison extractor is operating, extracting the poison… What the fuck?! The extractor is destroyed!"
Sairaorg was on the operating table, multiple doctors of Serafall's Memorial Hospital were working desperately to keep the young man alive.
Kuisha was on another operating table. She was poisoned when she was stabbed by the red spine of the white drake's long tail, a vicious poison that destroys the target without notice, usually until it was too late.
Zeoticus was in another room, while he had his leg cut off - his condition was significantly better than the other two since he was not suffering any poisoning. The paramedics were working to re-attach his leg without much issue.
The situation was so severe that Raphael arrived at the scene, entering the operating table with clerical doctors from the Vatican.
"Let me see the patient."
It was a miracle that an Archangel deigned to visit the son of Bael.
How could he not when he heard that the young man was struck by the famous poison that slew Hercules, just from wearing a robe soaked in it, skin contact with the unaugmented venom was enough to kill the legendary demigod that could take down Ares.
Outside in the waiting room, Misla was seated on a bench with her hands clasped in prayer for the Demon God to save her son, her light in this life.
Misla was not alone.
Regulus and the rest of Sairaorg's Peerage were in the waiting room, all of them were praying to any power, some of them prayed to the Demon God, others just prayed for Raphael to succeed in his task.
The silence in the room was heavy, the atmosphere was like their world was about to fall apart, almost when the Demon God was destroying the Underworld in his battle against Saitama.
The operating light hanging from the ceiling, the rectangular signal light turned from red to green.
Misla opened her eyes when she felt Raphael's angelic presence leaving the operating room, heading towards the waiting room, amongst the many empty chairs in the white, sterile room.
The blonde archangel inhaled.
"...I have both good news… and bad news…" Raphael gave a solemn frown to Misla.
The Devils did not answer, waiting for the Archangel to continue.
"...The good news is that I managed to save his life. Your son's vitals are stable and we stopped the poison from spreading. The bad news is that the poison will act again if we don't do anything about it. I've heard tales about the Lernean Hydra, so lethal that even the Greek Gods fear it, now I know why."
"Will he make it, doctor?" Misla asked as she tightened her hands.
"Not with our current skills and equipment. The poison reacts and destroys all elements of holy magic, it ravenously consumes and breaks down the power of Angels. We have to rely and call upon favors. Saitama's little black friend was hard to convince, we owe him for managing to obtain a legendary medicine from the Eastern traditions to halt the poison… It is one of the most vicious poisons I have ever seen. It acts on the physical and metaphysical, breaking down not only the soul, but also the body at the atomic level. While not as destructive as Albion's Poison of Eternal Destruction, it is basically incurable… No one has survived contact with the Lernean Hydra's poison. Regulus should know, he was one of the creatures defeated by Heracles."
Regulus grimaced. As a creature from Greece that lived through Hercules' legend, he knew the dangers of the Lernean Hydra more than anything. Sairaorg was about to suffer Heracles' fate, death by the poison of the Hydra.
"I don't know how Yamata No Orochi obtained the Lernean Hydra's power. By all accounts, young Bael should've died. It is just… that the combination of Yamata No Orochi, the Lernean Hydra, and the power of the Trihexa evolved the poison into something new, extremely dangerous and alien. We are still analyzing the evolved poison…"
Misla sighed into her arms in despair, but she still took solace in the fact that her son was still breathing.
"What needs to be done now, Lord Raphael? Is there anything we can do to help?" Misla asked with teary eyes.
"...The most ideal result is if your son somehow develops an immunity against the poison and recovers over time. Otherwise…" Raphael then contemplated, "...Perhaps Saitama and his friends may know something, or someone that can help, but that's praying for a near-impossible miracle Angels cannot provide."
While everyone's mood was brought low, a new voice entered the room.
"The Power of the Awakened One is not attuned to cure. You're wasting your time, the boy will die if you continue at this pace."
Raphael could not believe he was hearing the familiar voice.
Pale, haunting skin, three horns curling skyward from the brow, a ghostly man wearing white robes, red eyes gleaming with years of hatred for his kind for what they did in the past, fueled by trauma and pain that had not yet healed.
"...What are you doing here, Ersi?"
Raphael's voice shook, unable to maintain his composure in front of this man. It would be a lie if he said that the sight of him reminded him of his dark past as a bringer of needless genocide, spilled the blood of the innocent in his father's name, a darker time.
Ignoring Raphael altogether, The Lord of the Masteman merely walked past the stunned-looking devils and paramedics.
Misla and Sairaorg's Peerage were confused why they were seeing a Demon Lord from television. She had heard about them, but she did not even sense his presence, none of Sairaorg's Peerage did.
Raphael immediately followed the Demon Lord. Misla and the others did the same, unsure what the Demon Lord was planning this time, eyes of confused Devil Doctors and Church Clerics following the sight of the Demon Lord as he entered Sairaorg's room.
Standing over the unconscious young devil, the demon lord stared at Sairaorg for some long few seconds, before he extended his hand.
Misla and the rest of Sairaorg's peerage were about to react when Ersi bent down lightly and gently ran his hand on Sairaorg's black locks. Raphael could have sworn the looks in the demon's eyes softened somewhat.
"...Awaken."
Ersi tapped Sairaorg's head.
Sairaorg's eyes opened as he wheezed, breathing as if he had not breathed air for years.
"What are you doing, Ersi?!"
Raphael took out his holy sword, the weapon gleaming in holy power.
Unfazed by the sight of Raphael's holy sword, Ersi lightly snorted before returning his attention back to Sairaorg.
"...Child." Ersi spoke to Sairaorg. "I am Ersi, of the Mastema."
Sairaorg felt weak. He could feel himself being… eaten away by the poison. Barely conscious enough to see the stranger, the Demon standing beside his bed.
Ersi then continued, "Your family has betrayed you, your father abandoned you, overlooked your true worth. He left your mother to rot in favor of petty reasons, caring more about his status, his relations with lesser creatures and fools. You are forced to play in a game no child should ever be involved in, yet you obtained great strength. You found true strength and destroyed your Father's ambitions and challenged him, you wounded his pride, his confidence in himself, and he hates you forever for proving him wrong… I am offering you a choice. I can save you."
Ersi spoke like the Devil. He was more of a Devil than any Devil in this room at this moment.
"I can save your life and protect those you love… but… If you accept this deal, you must abandon the Devils, consign the fate of your kind to the whims of fate, never to interfere. What say you?"
Misla then allowed her maternal instinct to take over, striding towards the demon lord, she grasped his shoulder, "Excuse me, sir. But my son-"
Ersi then glared sharply at Misla, "-Can make his own decision like any other adult. His choice is his. Do not interfere with his moment."
His eyes glowed bright crimson as Misla saw the light of malice behind those irises.
Misla was intimidated at the rebuke, but she stood her ground, "Regardless, Sairaorg needs to rest. You can't just drop by and drop so much on his lap!"
"His time is short," Ersi answered. "He will die before you can find a cure. Or the poison will permanently erode much of his being before then. I know how to cure him."
"And how do I know you are not planning something else? As far as I've learned, you hate us."
"Indeed… for good reason. But I have taken a liking to him." He glanced at Sairaorg, "...He is not like the naive heirs I've seen so far. His resolve sparked my curiosity to investigate his story. A noble child abandoned by his ungrateful father, he knows the evils of his kind more intimately than any other… and still fights to win in their game. What caught my attention was his doomed battle against the son of the tribal chief. He has strength no other Devil I've seen possesses. He has earned my respect, he is too worthy for his story to end like this. But if you want to let your protective instincts cloud your judgment, know that I can leave and let him die. If you need to see his soul extinguished to see the truth, so be it."
Misla grimaced, wanting to save her son but found it difficult to trust the stranger before him.
"Mother…"
Both Ersi and Misla turned to Sairaorg, who was looking at them with eyes of resolve. The fire in his eyes caused Ersi to snort, his lips twitching slightly upwards.
"Tell me… what is your choice?" Ersi asked again.
Sairaorg slowly opened his mouth.
"...I… refuse…" He managed to utter those two words..
Ersi was surprised, not expecting to hear his refusing salvation.
"...You chose death over salvation? Why?" Ersi asked.
"No… I will live." Sairaorg spoke out, "But I… won't… abandon… who I am… And what I… Fight for."
"You will die. Your father hates you. He'll never love you no matter what you do. Wasn't your motivation to fight for his approval? A hopeless, foolish desire to be recognized by your failure of a father?" Ersi reminded.
"No… not him…" Sairaorg shook his head. "...My mother, my friends…. I fight… for them….. I will not leave them… or what they stand for behind."
"If you die, it will be for nothing. I assure you, you cannot overpower this poison on your own," Ersi guaranteed.
"Even so…. I must try… no, I will succeed…"
Sairaorg gazed into Ersi's eyes. Despite being close to death, the fire in his gaze was brilliant, he was still unyielding even against the overwhelming odds against him.
"...Fascinating…" Ersi raised his hand. A scroll was summoned in his hand, "Here."
He offered the scroll to Raphael.
"...What is this?" Raphael asked.
"Instructions. What you need to save him is in this scroll."
His words surprised everyone in this room, from Misla to Sairaorg himself. Raphael could not believe that this Demon that they have wronged in ancient times would offer the cure.
"Even I will find it difficult to remove the poison myself. The poison has almost fused with him on a level so intimate that he cannot expunge it with his own power. But the line between poison and medicine is the dosage. There is a way to convert the poison into an elixir… but this method depends on his own resolve to live. You will need the Celestial Stone Monkey and Eastern Alchemists for this."
Raphael unrolled the scroll, wanting to know why Ersi suggested the Eastern arts.
He perused the contents for a moment.
"Drag your finger up the scroll." Ersi instructed.
Raphael was confused. What did he mean? He blindly followed his instructions… When he dragged his finger up, the contents of the scroll rolled up like a website from the internet, seeing more information rolling up from below, replacing the previous information on the screen.
Raphael, however, could not believe what he was seeing.
"...Are you trying to burn him alive?!" Raphael looked up from the scroll at Ersi in shock.
He had heard of the infamous furnace of the Celestial Court. It was used to convert ingredients into powerful elixir pills, including live Youkai and other living beings, Dragons were not excluded in this. The Monkey King was the only one who had survived the infamous furnace and became the legend he was today.
This scroll contained everything to replicate that process.
"I said it is dangerous. I am simply reusing an old legend. The Monkey King survived Lao Zi's furnace meant to burn away his immortality… but the Monkey King survived to the point where his mortality and all of his weaknesses were burned away instead. The ingredients and instruction you see is an enhanced version, altered to convert the poison into a priceless elixir instead. He will emerge stronger than ever if he survives. This isn't a cure. This is transcending purification."
Raphael stared at Ersi for a moment before returning to read the recipe, his expression contemplative.
Misla was curious as she peeked at the scroll, Raphael scrolling the information up to reread the instructions.
A Demon Lord suddenly appeared to deliver them the means of curing Sairaorg… It was suspicious. Yet Ersi could've let him die, his desire for justice for his people infamous.
"...Why this? Why not simply cure him?" Raphael asked.
"This is his choice. He wants to succeed and overcome the poison. This is his path. I am merely granting his wish."
The way he said it struck Raphael's nerve, twisting Sairaorg's resolve against him.
"...Will this… save my son?" Misla asked.
"Yes. I swear that the contents of the scroll can save him. He has the strength to overcome the trial and emerge victorious. You have the resources. I pray that you succeed in time."
He smiled as he vanished, gone without warning or sign.
Misla blinked, looking around the room for the demon lord, only to find his presence gone.
"...I am afraid that we don't have a choice anymore. Ersi is correct. Your son's time is short and the poison has reached a critical stage… but some of these ingredients I am not sure if we have."
Immortal Grass grown from the soil around the Fuzang Tree, Divine Peach from Flower Mountain, Moly, moly being a root plant born from the blood of giants spilled in the soil, fern flowers, blood and bone of a fire dragon that reincarnated into a Devil, Raphael was sure Ersi was referring to Tannin.
Ersi must have come up with this method already predicting Sairaorg's choice a while ago.
They have ingredients like an Archangel's feather… wait, Ascended Archangel feather from a Fallen Angel…
The Fruit of the Zaqqum would not be an easy ingredient, the Zaqqum Tree was grown in Hell, the fruit was usually fed to the souls of the damned to torture them, yet it was a catalyst ingredient for Sairaorg's Devil blood, an ingredient to help with Sairarog's rebirth if he survived the purification. Breaching Hell was one of the problems.
The Muthkwey plant was a mythical plant that was said to be grown from the droppings of a two-headed serpent that was said to bring destruction in Musqueam tradition, they need it, or a substitute of the plant that grew from the blood or droppings of mythical serpents in general, Dragon Mountain might have something similar.
The runic arrays - not magic circles, but arrays of the Sage Arts were something he needed help with - the Monkey King would assist him. This was a ritual that involved an esoteric, seamless fusion of both Eastern and Western traditions, the magical instructions were advanced to the point that he needed help from Azazel and the Satans.
The magical component of the Western Traditions were to guide the refinement process, to help with the imbuing the refined materials into Sairaorg, since Sairaorg didn't have the knowhow to do it himself.
His two most difficult hurdles were finding a viable flame source and a sturdy furnace.
The most vague and troubling was that they needed flames so hot that it could burn the soul to ash, the only flames he knew that were capable of that was that of Welsh Dragon.
They had Tannin and Uriel's flames, but he doubted those two's fire was strong enough, the scroll said it must be at least on the level of the Heavenly Emperor Class Dragons.
The fire was needed to refine the ingredients, the core catalyst to extract, mix, and transmute the ingredients in Eastern Alchemy into the desired goal, the hotter the better.
Only this time, Sairaorg would absorb these ingredients instead as the fire burns his body and soul of its impurities, the flames transmuting the poison into a priceless medicine for Sairaorg… meaning that Sairaorg would become a living elixir in this case.
The second most troubling was the furnace. They have to get or make a furnace that could withstand temperatures that Lao Zi barely achieved in his peak, enough to withstand the flames of a Heavenly Dragon Emperor for extended periods in the refinement process.
Raphael was sure that there was no such furnaces in Midgard's myth capable of that… so they had to make one. The instructions and blueprints were on the scroll. The problem was finding the materials and means of crafting the furnace…
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Raphael decided on a course of action.
"I have to make several calls. Please look after young Sairaorg for the time being."
Fortunately, the scroll had instructions to preserve Sairaorg's life. The time magic of the Agares was crucial in this moment.
To be Continued…..
OMAKE: Griselda Quarta's Medical Emergency Class
The Order of Aquinas.
It was a newly established division within the Catholic Church consisting of doctors, healers - those who had talents or passion in the field of medicine.
Asia Argento, Xenovia Quarta and Irina Shidou had been invited to attend a class where Griselda, who volunteered as part-time tutor, would give a lecture of the day.
However, the trio saw Griselda stepping in with a dire look on her face.
"Good afternoon, Sister Griselda… Is something wrong?" Xenovia greeted.
Griselda nodded at her three proteges for the day, "Good afternoon, ladies. Forgive me for the sudden change of plans, but I'm afraid we have an emergency. I implore all of you to remain calm as I and the other professional will resolve this matter pronto."
The trio exchanged worried glances when Silver Sperm, clad in a lab-coat tailored for his size, came in with a hospital bed carrying a man in tow.
"We got an emergency!" Silver reported as he rolled the bed between him and Griselda, "Blood pressure 100 over 70, heart rate 130! We found him alone in tears in his apartment, surrounded with take-out boxes."
"It looks like a case of Cardio Fractus…" Griselda commented as she scrutinized her patient.
"That means…!"
"Yes." Griselda concluded Silver's new-found suspicion, "...A broken heart."
The church trio blinked, exchanging confused looks when they listened to the diagnosis.
"Um… What?" Irina was the one to speak.
Back on the operating table, the male patient sobbed while crying his tears out, "How could she do this to me?!"
Griselda leaned closer to have a better look at her patient, "Alright, Mr. Donald - I need you to listen to me. How did it happen?"
"By text message…!" the patient - Donald, whined sadly as more of his waterworks leaking out.
"How long were they together?"
Griselda asked Silver, who promptly answered, "Six years."
Meanwhile, the young reincarnated angels on the side exchanged more confused looks, unsure what they were actually watching.
"This is going to hurt… We need to roll him onto his side."
Griselda and Silver then manhandled the crying patient so the former could have a look at John's back.
"Just as I suspected… He's been stabbed in the back." Griselda remarked grimly.
"I'm gonna feel like this forever…!" Donald whined more.
"We need to open him up." Griselda told Silver.
"But he doesn't want to talk about it!"
"I'm just not ready yet…!" Donald cried as he covered his face sadly.
"We need to sedate him…" Silver then rummaged through his toolbox and procured a can of beer, popping it open for the patient to drink.
"I don't think I'm gonna make it- Mmm…" Donald was about to cry some more when he took a sip of the alcoholic beverage. The alcohol quickly took effect on his psyche.
"Um… Is he alrig-?" Asia could not help but ask.
"Ms. Asia, quiet please!" Griselda reprimanded, causing Asia to yelp before silencing herself.
Then, there was a phone ring-tone echoing in the room.
"Whose phone is that?!" Silver barked - Griselda and him looked around for the noise.
Donald, on the other hand, immediately perked up at the noise, "Is that Claire? Maybe she's calling to get back with me!"
Irina quickly got her cellphone out before putting it into silent mode, "Sorry, it was mine!"
"Get it the hell out of the operating theatre!" Silver reprimanded the sheepish-looking Irina before he returned to Griselda who was studying an X-Ray photo, "...How bad is it?"
"Damaged confidence, bruised ego… And severely impaired judgment."
"Maybe I could call to her workplace…?" on cue, Donald suggested what sounded like a terrible idea.
"He needs a heavy dose of reality." Silver suggested, prompting Griselda to whip out a small syringe, but she performed another quick examination.
"I should have suspected this…"
"What is it?"
"Scars." Griselda replied, "...He's been hurt before."
"You think you know someone…?" Donald then mumbled in despair.
"I need to see his full dating history." Griselda then told Silver, who whipped out a piece of paper.
"No, no! It's too painful!" Donald wailed in despair.
"...Bloody hell, it's a mess." Silver said as he read the contents of the paper, "He's been dumped, two-timed, ghosted, stood-up, strung along, friend-zoned and cat-fished."
At the mention - even Asia, Irina and Xenovia could not help but flinch in pain; all of them making cross signs to pray for the poor man's heart.
"These wounds run deep…" Griselda remarked again.
"There's no more fish in the sea…!"
Ignoring Donald's rant, Griselda spoke to Silver again, "I need a little black book, a fresh tinder profile and a rebound on the phone stat!"
"Got it!"
"MY WORLD IS FALLING APART!" Donald's cries intensified.
"He's going into shock!"
At this point, everyone began to panic at Silver's remark, even Griselda quickly pressed her palms on Donald's chest.
"We need to boost his confidence!" Griselda urged, prompting Silver to hold a stopwatch.
"Ready? Go!"
Griselda then began to perform chest-compressions, while speaking to Donald between compressions, "You are a kind and generous person! You deserve better! You are an incredible lover!"
However, Donald's expression was one of complete resignation.
"Dammit, we're losing him!" Silver said in frustration.
"Then there's only one option left…" Griselda said as she took her head-dress off, releasing her blonde hair free. "...Mouth to mouth."
Her words caused everyone, including the young church trio as well as John himself to be taken aback.
"...Wait, what?"
Before anyone could have properly digested what Griselda had in mind - Asia, Irina and Xenovia gasped when Griselda proceeded to lean down and capture Donald's lips in a passionate kiss.
Silver was actually impressed. The church trio were left speechless and blushing up a storm as Griselda shoved her tongue down Donald's throat.
The make-out session lasted for nearly half a minute - and when Griselda released the patient, her hair was slightly disheveled, her lips slightly swollen, and her face was flustered.
Silver then took a look at Donald's expression - his breathing has evened, his expression peaceful as he went into sleep.
"His heart rate is calming down… His condition is stabilizing… We got him."
Griselda sighed sensually as she ran her hand through her locks, "...Another soul restored."
Silver simply nodded in approval, and the church trio found themselves applauding the successful operation.
"You're one helluva healer, sister."