"To understand the power that the Rage gives one needs to first learn about the current only know holder of its apex form, that being the Vermilion Queen Malphas who could at the height of her battle against the King and Queen of Grannarius even interfere with the river of time, Unload spells of such magnitude even their Arch-Mages would pale to replicate and bring down such force to the mortal coil the very land stood in fear when she went on a warpath, this volume will go in detail on how and why the rage works..."
On the Rage-That-Dwells Volume 14 by Alfonse Del.
Malphas Dragonblood, Queen of Vermilion paced around in her private chambers as she read the latest report on her son's killer, her hand glowing in shades of crimson and black as the anger threatened to burst forth like a geyser. That her youngest had made friends with the whore was bad enough for her temper, but now he was dating a peasant?! She didn't miss the small detail that said peasant had both the Rage at the second stage and also the most coveted blessing in the entire world.
Worse, the whore was training the peasant girl, already she had shown progress so fast the spy who did the report made sure to send memory pebbles containing evidence of her feats.
And yet, Malphas's husband stonewalled her every attempt to have the whore killed or judged. His Shatter-Spear blood demanded the peace of the nation to be the focus, not the avenging of his criminal son who he went as far as say deserved the death he got.
She had to hold herself back, Jason's eyes bored into her without flinching as he waited for her to do the deed "Kill me" they told her in a conviction so strong even her grief and madness faltered for a second. Both were aware of Galius's crimes against the country and her people, against the many women he broke, and even their closest friend's daughter.
Jason was waiting for this she thought to herself, waiting for Galius to slip up so he could be cut down in the name of Great Vermilion.
"Galius died years ago Malphas, the man that lived among us was nothing but an impostor, a puppet for the evils you and I swore to purge from this world," Jason said as he left her alone in the throne room.
Malphas's mind broke free from that memory as she got out of her chambers, walking along the corridors of the castle she was reminded that soon the high nobles would meet for the yearly Ritual of Bonding, a millennium-long tradition between those who first settled these lands undertook to further their ties and avoid civil wars.
Malphas would have to hold herself back when that day came, if she was to have her revenge it would have to be in a way her dearest husband wouldn't know, or if he did learn about it, not fault her. She loved him too much and wouldn't risk losing him as she did Galius.
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And so she would wait, wait for the perfect opportunity and slice the head of the whore and mount it on the castle walls, as a final act of revenge for her oldest son.
Soon.
"Why do you want that accursed heap of bronze and silver Malphas..." Rumbled a voice from the cavernous depths of the dungeon, while powerful and loud it also had a tinge of boredom and annoyance, as if it didn't appreciate the sudden visit.
"Not your concern grandad, now give me the sword" Malphas stood tall as the form of the Red Dragon came into full view, the lizard looked like it had just woken up and was not happy with Malphas making a ruckus.
"Ancestor! blasted girl I am not your grandad!" He rumbled again as the depths trembled "Oh bloody hells the infernals are fighting among each other again on floor 100" he summoned an arcane panel of force and with his claws began sending mana throughout the depths as the very earth shifted and moved around him "I swear if we don't start getting more adventurers down there I will have to fire them all..."
Malphas smirked "I told you, the infernals hate each other as much as they hate the other races or more depending on which lord you ask, the arrangement you made was bound to fail as they will hardly keep a united front against mindless beasts you create in your little maze"
"My dungeon is no maze you ingrate welp! Ugh, I do I still suffer your snide remarks when you fail to see the monumental achievement that is the Grand Dungeon of the Red Dragon Saark!"
He extended his wings in a show of vanity but Malphas could see the old lizard was getting fat again, for someone who hated fighting he sure got off on watching others try to conquer his little underground maze.
With a tap of his wings, Saark summoned a box of rusted metal and dropped on Malphas' feet "Take the damn thing, and don't bother me again girl otherwise I will make sure your cousins hear about it!"
The woman smiled at the mention of her extended family, most of them had too much dragon blood on them and never liked the noble life, living as traveling adventurers as she once did with her husband and her party. Malphas sighed as her mind was taken back to those halcyon days of glory and conquest, of living life on the road and sleeping under the stars.
She missed those days, and her once lifelong friends and companions.
In a hidden chamber of the castle, Malphas prepared the blade she had gotten from Saark, the rusted box shining with violet light as she chanted the words inscribed on the hilt of the sword.
The "accursed" part of the dragon's little rant was more than empty banter, this blade was forged by a nameless Infernal Baron who in mad anger for the killing of his harem made this weapon with a powerful curse. Should one inscribe the blood and name of their foe in the metal of the blade a single slash would be enough to kill them, outright removing their bodies from the mortal coil and sending their souls to the darkest pits of the hells.
Malphas got a vial of almost black blood, as part of the ritual of bonding they were required and so she used the blood of the whore's parents hoping the ritual would work, chanting the foul words of the infernal language she stood still for nearly an hour as the ritual ran its course.
A click in the back of her head told her the ritual had worked, as the faint whispers of the Infernal Lords began to flood in only to flee in terror when she flared up the Rage, one of the few things those damnable things feared and even banded together to fight it off.
Writing the name of the whore in the blade took time to get it right, but once she was done with the weapon she felt a chunk of her mana being sucked and forging the blade into the one she used in battle.
The first step of her plan was complete, and so Malphas would wait, wait for the right opportunity to move in for the kill, and no god or men would stand against her and her revenge.