Restoration: Cursed Memories(Book 2)

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Chapter 9: After the Rain(Conclusion)

At that very moment in the city crowding with devils, but also at a distress from the assault of the angels, the bounty hunter returning. The maiden standing before the mutated pig. The demon giving off the stench of a mixture of food passing their expiration date, among many other foul odors. Cyra glaring into the eyes of the pig, aiming her revolver right at his skull. The eyes of the monster trembling, feeling his heart desperately pounding within his chest. Looking into those cold, unforgiving eyes of the maiden.

“Wha—what are you doing?!” he frantically questions.

“I have been thinking...I find it quite odd that the angels have not killed you by now. Especially since you are so easy to find,” she suspiciously responds.

“I—I guess I have just been lucky!” he panics.

The maiden looking upon the swine with those cold daring eyes of hers, clawing away deep into his very soul, or whatever passes for it that is. Cold sweat running down the side of the swine’s face.

“Is that so? Then tell me specifically how you evade their detection,” she glares at him.

“Th—there are many underground railroad systems, it’s not too hard to slip in and out!” he hastily speaks.

Cyra pausing for a moment, gauging the credibility of his words. Looking deep into those panicking eyes of his. There are those who are willing to use anything to their advantage, as such not even this pathetic pig will escape her threats.

“I suppose that could be true, but for now I have my eyes on you,” she places away her revolver.

A sigh of relief escaping the lips of the pig, the maiden calmly turning. Cyra glancing back to him, her eyes still very suspicious upon him. There is something familiar about him, yet she cannot put her finger precisely on it. For now she will have to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“You’re quite something ya know that?” some agitation extending from the pig’s voice.

“That has been said, now then, I am off,” Cyra calmly speaks.


The pig looking on, watching the maiden walking further and further away. Soon enough he is standing alone in that alley, aggravation growing deep inside of him. The pig taking out a small dark scale from his pocket, looking upon it. Seeing the malevolence burning from the piece within the palm of his hand.

“Are all beings who have been born low fated to be bested by you? Tch...! That is something I will not accept...” hatred is deep in his eyes.

The swine turning, placing the scale back into his pocket. The pig looking ahead, soon walking onward. An endless path it may seem, one in which dives deeper into the blackness of his heart. To be born low, and outdone by those from far above. Still, something else is appearing to fuel his hatred much more than such trivialities as that.


Cyra entering into the bar. The smell of alcohol still the same as usual. The devils appearing somewhat at an unrest, but everything seeming well as a whole. The maiden looking over to the bartender who notices her. His all too familiar regular. A smile coming to his face, the ghoul motioning her to come over. Cyra walking through the bar, taking a look around. Even in the darkest of times, this is the one place she can always return to, a place she can always call home. Everyone may be a bunch of misfits, but together they are all like a family.

Cyra taking a seat at the bar-counter. Her eyes are distant, doubts still plaguing her from deep within. However, she knows that she must completely abolish such emotions, that in order to grasp her desires, she must continue diving deeper into despair.

“I heard you were dead,” Ryan beginning to pour out a glass of alcohol.

The maiden glancing to him, her eyes expressing a gentle look upon him. They may be devils, but certainly they have a bond that is irreplaceable.

“You should know better than to believe rumors,” she calmly speaks, slightly looking away.

The bartender slightly propping his head, uncertain on the troubles she is expressing. A sigh escaping his lips, figuring that the stress is finally getting to her. The ghoul moving the glass of alcohol towards her, the maiden glancing towards it,

“Oh, apologies, no alcohol,” she looks towards him.

Her words catching him by surprise, the ghoul taking a step back. Scratching the back of his head, wondering what is happening to his regular. Certainly this change is much too drastic for anyone so suddenly.

“Huh? What happened to you up there in that tower?” shock extending from his voice.

Cyra distantly looking towards her right hand, seeing the malevolence secreting from her very soul itself. One trial of many to come. To embrace those imperfections, to feel those selfish desires, to pursue a path in which can very well lead to oblivion. The events of the Tower of Time lingering within her, and certainly serving as a powerful influence.

“Let us just leave it at...I have lost my taste for such a thing. Anyway, tell me. Do you have any clue why the gods are doing this?” she turns her attention to the bartender.

The ghoul positioning his arms in a thinking posture, slightly looking up. An attack out of nowhere, the Tower of Time itself, everything seeming so out of the ordinary. It is hard for him to pinpoint an exact reasoning.

“Wish I can tell you for certain. Though, I know for sure the Tower of Time was a key point. Wonder why though,” he shrugs.

“A key point? Could it be due to the trials? What could those trials be hiding? For now...I have to find out if there are anymore critical points they would use,” her expression becoming a bit more serious.

The Tower of Time being a critical point in the plan of the gods. That much is for certain, but exactly what are they planning? It is hard to say really. Such causing the maiden to grow a bit uneasy. An attack from a horde of angels nearly causing her life to come to an end. Certainly this is a war that is far above her grasp. Even so, she will continue onward, pressing deeper to grasp that light at the end of the abyss.

“Ryan, are there any other points in which the gods have influence over?” she positions her arms in a thinking posture, slightly looking down.

The bartender closing his eyes, turning a bit to his side. Thinking deeply on the relevance of the Tower of Time, an idea soon coming to mind. The ghoul opening his eyes, leaning against the counter, directly looking into her eyes.

“Now that I think about it. The Sunken Temple of Nirva,” he informs.

“Sunken temple?” she questions in confusion.

The ghoul slightly looking away, gathering as much as he can remember. He does not quite understand the importance of the temple, but if the maiden is seeing relevance with the Tower of Time, then certainly this is of grave importance.

“Yeah, a long time ago that temple used to draw worshippers from all over the world. It would become advanced due to all the donations being made. Though, during a war it was lost, and the gods as a result lost a lot of support. If anything, that point can be used as a strategical ground. There should be three points in total. Creating a triangle that locks in all within its range,” Ryan explains.

Cyra taking out a map, placing it on the counter. Ryan looking at the map, watching as she marks a red ‘x’ on the location of the Tower of Time. The devil soon marking the Sunken Temple of Nirva, and lastly, identifying the Tower of Eternity. The maiden glancing to Ryan, the ghoul noticing her serious expression.

“ really is genocide...” her voice expressing some unease.

“That’s my best guess anyway,” Ryan agreeing, looking to the marked points.

Cold sweat running down the side of his face. The devil feeling a frightening chill crawling down his spine. To think the gods will go to such extreme measures. A war to purge all devils from the NetherWorld.


Cyra distantly looking down at the map. It is appearing that the conflict at hand is even more dire. Seeing the triangular lock, knowing the outcome of failure. Her fist shaking in frustration. Against the gods, she is no more than an ant at their feet. The maiden looking towards the devils who are leisurely chatting away.

Her head hanging low, these devils are her only family. They may not be the most well mannered, but their hearts have always been in the right place. Her home, and the lives of everyone. It is seeming too much. The maiden desperately wishing to scream out her frustration, but she knows well that doing such will only damage their morale. Ryan knowing that this is difficult upon her, witnessing Cyra standing from her seat. The maiden turning from him, trying to push her fear out of mind. There is only one way to go now, and that is forward. There is no room to turn back, and she knows that well.

For now my search for Valor will have to wait. If what Ryan said has any truth to it, then at least one of these points have to be destroyed. I suppose my next best bet is to the Sunken Temple of Nirva.

“Next time I will order something,” she glances back to Ryan.

The ghoul standing straight, folding his arms. A smile coming to his face. The end may be approaching, and perhaps faster than one can imagine, but certainly it is not hopeless.

“It’s cool, and look at you, playing the hero role all of a sudden haha,” he laughs.

“Hero? That is not my style. My only reason for doing this is for me to lay my own troubles to rest. My goals are more selfish than you may believe,” she calmly speaks.

The ghoul looking towards the maiden in more interest now, positioning his arms in a thinking posture. Her own selfish desires, now that is something most interesting to know. She has always been the type to keep her personal life to herself, but to hear of such, he cannot help but to feel curious now.

“Is that so?” he questions.

“Indeed,” she looks ahead, a faint smile coming to her face.

The maiden heading onward, burying her own troubles deep within her.

I suppose it has always been like this...from the very day I was born. I even hated my father for arranging that marriage, and now I have to clean up this damn mess? Tch...!. What I wouldn’t return to that time I was most happy, just to forget about all of this...but I suppose...that is life. Some of us will be dealt a truly pitiful hand, while others will have a much more fortunate experience. Jealousy does no good, it will only breed more misfortune. I suppose all I can do is keep moving onward until I can finally see that light. A light that can shine upon my path ahead. Until then, I shall continue to wander in this abyss.

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