Chapter 17: Those Who Are Inferior(Part 1)
—The Past Revisited—
—1350 Years Ago—
A battlefield bathing in blood. The stench of it is sickening to the stomach, many victims spreading out along the field, bodies piling upon each other. An all too familiar pig devil standing upon his knee, looking up into the eyes of the maiden with such horror. Looking on, holding his breath as she directs her blade at his neck. Those cold and ferocious eyes piercing right into his soul. Rain pouring down from high above, crashing down onto the dreadful field below.
“Th—this makes no sense at all. I gathered all the best demons, and they all fell to you...! This is not fair!” he yells.
The maiden faintly smiling, looking at the swine as if he is a fool. That smile of hers, filling him with such rage. His body trembling in the presence of the maiden, but his fury burning strong. Even the best of devils he can gather are no more than ants at her feet. Such he cannot understand, his rage building even more.
“You just do not get it do you, Reed?” Cyra calmly speaks.
He can only look at her with those cold eyes of his, feeling the cold water hitting against him. Slowly looking around, seeing the many devils laying lifelessly upon the ground. The swine looking towards her once again, uncertain of what she means, that tone of hers striking down to his very core.
“What do you mean...?” he coldly questions.
The maiden inching her blade closer to his neck. The swine slightly raising his head, glancing down to her sword. His heart desperately pounding within his chest. His spine trembling before her. Uneasiness deep within his eyes. A devil standing above all else, looking down at her enemies as mere inferior beings.
“It is not that I am more powerful. It is because I have a reason,” her eyes lightening upon him.
“Reason?” he questions in confusion.
Reason? What a peculiar thing for a devil to say. One does not need reason, so why does her power exceed even that of demon lord’s? Nothing makes sense. The swine beginning to wonder what if such a thing of simplicity can really be so. To have reason within her action, that reason is why she has been able to surpass the best he can bring against her.
“Indeed—” she places away her blade.
The swine calming, slowly feeling his heart rate settling. A sigh escaping his lips, the pig looking up to the maiden with even more conflicting eyes. Cyra looking down at the pitiable demon. All he can do is look on, seeing as she proudly stands. One who will eternally be higher. All those below her being nothing more than stepping stones in her path towards her own desire.
“—Reason dictates action. So long as I have a reason to take up my blade, then no matter what threat you bring against me—” she turns from him.
“—They will all meet their end,” she calmly speaks.
“A demon with reason, how laughable,” he stands from the ground.
The maiden glancing back to him, hearing the swine chuckle. Irritating really, but there is no reason to take his life. After all, there is nothing remaining that he can possibly do. Demoralizing one’s enemy is the ultimate punishment a devil can do onto another. Perhaps paying him some mind if anything is the least she can do.
“Believe what you want, but the evidence is all around you. You can bring as many as you wish. You can get as high up as you desire, but against me, it is pointless.”
Reed’s eyes slightly widening. Hearing her tone, those words she speaks. His hands scraping against the ground. Looking towards her with great frustration, watching as she walks further and further away from him. No matter how far he reaches, unable to surpass her. It will eternally be pointless, the words of the devil striking deep within him.
“Mark my words! One day! You will die by my hands!” he yells.
“And I will be waiting for that day,” she calmly speaks.
Within the deepest reaches of the Heavenly Realm, a place without light, one who embraces their hatred, their desires to bring down the one who casts such shame upon them. Malevolence surrounding the being, the darkness lashing out in every direction. The eyes of the being opening, and a crimson glow piercing through the darkness.
“Just a bit longer, Cyra...” they coldly speak.
The NetherWorld, one of Nine Worlds. Home of the devils and some of the most heinous creatures. Still, despite such, within the deepest reaches, there are some that wishes no more than for peace, while there are others that embraces corruption. A place of division it is, and perhaps this may be the very reason for such a decision to call for their annihilation. Even so, everything is within balance, Valor knowing this well. Rain pouring down high above. Without much time to waste, Cyra, Valor, and Argent returning to Ezel. If the maidens suspicion holds true, then certainly there may be a fighting chance. However, she can only hope for such.
“So why the rush back to Ezel?” Valor questions.
“There is a certain bartender I know there. He might have some useful information,” Cyra informing him.
They stand at an intersection. Cyra positioning her arms in a thinking posture, thinking deeply on what she does know. The halfbreed taking a moment to look around her surroundings. It is odd really, there is not a single demon in sight. Even if it is raining, devils are not one to care for getting wet.
“Hold on, you drink?” he looks to her in surprise.
“Used to, it was during the time when my memories were still scrambled,” she places her hand upon her waist.
“Uh-huh, ya know there are stages an alcoholic goes through. You’re not getting to acceptance at this rate,” he slightly raises his eyebrows.
“You are unbelievable, have you any idea how frustrating you can be?” she questions with slight annoyance in her tone, glancing back to him.
“I wanna say no, but then I would be lying to myself,” he slightly teases, leaning towards her.
A faint smile coming to her face, Cyra nodding in disbelief. The maiden pushing back against him, and the god laughing. Always the cheerful one he is. Argent propping his arms behind his head, knowing all too well of their actions towards one another. The boy looking up into the cloudy sky. Cyra turning in the direction of Valor.
“Do you not find something strange here?” Cyra questions.
The maiden glancing from left to right. Seeing the water hitting against the empty streets. Valor noticing her concerns, the deity looking around the area. His expression soon becoming serious. The god realizing that it is far too quiet. The empty sounds hitting against the ground. The cold scent all around.
“No one...anywhere...” he positions his arms in a thinking posture.
Argent looking around the area himself, finding it peculiar as well. Even if it is raining, devils will not care for something like rain. As such, why will it be so empty? The three can only wonder if it is due to the severity of the situation.
“Correct, I can only wonder if they have began fleeing. Are they already aware of Ultima?” Cyra positioning her arms in a thinking posture.
“That would make sense, still, there is nowhere to run towards,” Valor folding his arms, slightly looking down.
“For now then, we head to the bar. I know no matter what, the bartender there will not run,” Cyra speaks.
For the situation to escalate so quickly, it is unnerving. In such a desperate time, everyone should come together rather than flee. After all, no matter how many lives are lost, at least there may be a future for others to enjoy. The devil turning from him, slowly inhaling and exhaling, gathering her nerves. Valor and Argent looking towards her. The deity knowing that there is a lot upon her shoulders right now. Even as the world comes crashing down all around her, she continues to try and hold things together.
“Sis, this bar, how long did you visit it?” Argent taking a step forward.
“I lost track of the time, probably a thousand years or so,” she calmly speaks.
Cyra glancing back to Valor who is seeming to be ready with a comment. The maiden slightly glaring at him. His response all too obvious towards her. The god feeling a chill running down his spine with the mere look in her eyes. Even if the end of days is approaching, the devil knowing well of her old friend. That the deity cannot help but to take advantage of the situation for his childish habits.
“I have a gun you know,” she speaks in a slightly threatening tone.
“Never-mind then...” he looks away.
The god propping his arms behind his head, looking away. For his own safety, it is better to not press on any further. This much is true. Age is such a delicate topic, even to those who do not fall victim to the effects of time after a certain age. Cyra positioning her arms in a thinking posture, the more she thinks on the situation, the more dire it is appearing. She will definitely need information, and she can only hope she is correct about the bartender. If the bartender is still there, then perhaps there might still be a fighting chance.
“Anyway, we have not the time to waste. Valor, invoke a teleportation magic,” Cyra glancing back to him.
“Bossy...but okay...” he sighs.