I cursed under my breath. Letting the Urumi drop was a mistake. Never, not even in my wildest fantasies, did I expect the seven alloyed whip blades to susurrate like the low growling from the hungry belly of a powerful beast. For a brief, fleeting moment, deep purple lightning pulsated along the slender metallic whips. The surrounding air thrummed from the charge released. Still cursing myself, I curled my fingers tightly around Lyria's gift --

It screamed in exhilaration as if my future self had released its latent prowess. Wordlessly, the voice growled inside me; taunting me to rush ahead while silently whispering promises of sanctuary. Each trembling moment, the meanings of the silent whisper stirred like blood in a starving viper. Though my body stood still, my hands gripped the handle of the weapon in preparation. Something primal pulsed through the metal. Each whip, slithering with ophidian celerity. Unsheathing this incredible power would be akin to shedding every layer of my skin, enduring the agony and reforging me. One wrong flick of my wrist is all that separated me from the lethality of my own weapon. Wielding Adjuration is no more different than lingering on the precipice of a tenebrous abyss.

Which made me wonder, how did Lyria manage to create something so unique?

I have brandished both The Sentinel and Reminiscence, but Adjuration is completely different. Did Lyria have a specific intention in mind? Or, clairvoyantly foreseen this situation when she designed the Urumi?

Several moments ticked by. No advancing moment could be seen or heard around me. One interminably charged moment later, came the pattering of tiny feet -- nearly drowned out by the roars and shrieks that assaulted my ears. There were a hundred upon thousands of attacking beasts, surging over me in a thronging ocean. The charred ebony grounds trembled from the million tiny steps of unseen legs. In the same rhythmic heartbeat. Unseen -- Only shadowed silhouettes, after images left in the disturbed ashes.

Their menace glistened and surrounded me like a dark rain before surging upon another yet unfathomable foe. The charred forest of scorched lands echoed their cries as well. The time for testing has come...... My weapon whispered within me. While maintaining perfect posture, the whip blades writhed, sending forth crackling laughter down its sharp edges. With that, its latent powers were mine to wield. I unleashed it.

A maddening pulse shot out along its snaking lengths. Crackling cerulean charge cradled upon its enigmatic surface. Its blue hues shimmered enticingly near each flick. A swirling aura vibrated without form, waiting for just one attentive command from me. The blackness of abyss -- the constant Stygian void accumulated through centuries of practice, lurking behind the familiar trance in my head -- waited upon those rock-slicing lashes, ready to sweep. Unheeding the danger, the weapon and its wielder posed, my invisible antagonists, crashed, only to vanish in a riotous crowd. Pale viscera and crimson ichor coloured the dark grounds.

Not even the incorporeal form of my assailants was spared the merciless lacerations of the seven-bladed Urumi. Utterly indescribable in brutality, the impact release echoed through the barren lands. Crushing blow after crushing blow; body after body, gravely wounded; ceased their thrashing and only prayed for the eternal embrace to guard them back to their realm. Their immortal soul in question persevered, to be reformed in their own plane. And for those, not of demonic origin, neither imp nor gremlins, only permanent death offered salvation. Too many ran, scattered in all directions, but on this field, life eluded them. Their mutilated corpses were reduced to a pulp slowly mucked like a viscous crimson river down the abyssal landscape.

Another long carnage moment passed, and another wave rained and sunk into the land. Their bodies were piled over the forgotten corpses. Their life essences disappeared in accordance with their damaged flesh. As time went too far, their enfeebled mentalities drove them insane, condemning them to an eternity of pain. Which, in turn, let them to regretful choices like throwing themselves into the silent kiss of Adjuration. Yet not so much as one individual could attack me.

Only I remained intact on the necrotic charred battlefield, untouched by their brazen murderous intents. I stood, dancing at the locus of carnage, and felt the overwhelming urge to press on forward and finish the demon-killing spree -- obliterating the feeble horde into minced pieces from the front line. Almost as if mocking my thoughts, the waves of imps, gremlins, renegade orcs and human mercenaries died down and the monstrous forms of a few dozen pit-fiends replaced them.

In dread, I realized that there must be around fifty of those fiend spawned who swarmed over to my position. The hue of their skin, varying from bright crimson red to bleak ashen grey belied their ominous power. Their cloven hoof, thick and gnarled like the trunks of aged oak, carried the corpulent puss-ridden bodies with surprising haste. Strength swelled within their steely broad shoulders. Bone pierced and slotted on sinewy limbs -- marking every bit of their dark anatomy fatally menacing. Large horns, like twin bone pillars, protruded atop their heads, capped with dark steel-tipped spearheads. Terrible tails hung off their brutal pelvis and swung on different sides like writhing black vipers.

Thick-bladed scale encased powerful arms hefted massive spiked mauls and hammers, resting them over their broad sinewy shoulders. Thick cord-like muscles undulated beneath, resisting the massive weight of their weapons. To complement their appearance, they grinned and lurched in grotesque fashion. There was a certain predatory grace in the way they advanced. The ground shuddered as their huge, lumbering form marched ahead with alarming speed. Unopposed.

Recalling the last fight -- no, the last massacre -- that I witnessed between Lyria and a fiend, one thing was certain. I cannot let the pit-fiends transform into their agile form. The moment of clarity was all that I needed to strategize. To assemble fifty pit-fiends would require the commanding presence of a fiend-general or a true fiend. My true enemy lies hidden behind the monstrous wall of ravaging hulks.

I prepared myself for my opponent, slowly, cautiously, treading onto the ruined, blood-soaked ground, and with the tapping fingers on my whip blades as they began to glow an eerie cyanic blue. Whirring whispers drifted alone, nothing like words, more like an acknowledgement; intertwining with my presence, encouraging my unspeakable cravings in an equally enraged bloodlust. There was no need to recall the encroaching feeling, I already know it well. Adjuration simply fuelled my battle lust.

They approached with immeasurable viciousness ferried in their wake. Strengthening my battle stance, I tightened my hand about the handle of the Urumi, gathering more onwards momentum towards annihilation. The horde of pit-fiends surged onwards like tsunamis, blocking my path with skilled coordination. In response, I spun in my steps, letting the built-up momentum guide the whip blades, skewering amidst a flurry of chipped rocks and sand.

The sharp lashing blades of the Urumi became lethal flower petals dancing in the wind, raining down towards the fiendish hideous forms of the pit-fiends. True to their status, my charges were not unhindered by them. Whip blades, slender like an assassin's wire met humongous two-handed weapons. A clash of elegance against raw power. Like furious magnets pulling, the Urumi blades acted with equal force, locking themselves against mauls, handles and horns. No explosion. No shockwaves. Just silent impact followed by a clean slice like a heated knife through butter. Despite the feral weapons of brutality that they brandished, before the pulsating trajectory of Adjuration, the pit-fiends fared no better than troglodytes wielding masterwork crossbows.

Flaying metallic whips clawed into towering hoofs. Screaming. Bone-chilling screams, like the ululations of a thousand sheep slaughtered, filled the dreaded landscape. Death rose over their macabre hymns with the hardy crunch of shattered bones, ear-splitting squeals and agonised gurgles. Ripped specks of viscera sprayed against the dark lands till only suffocating gore greeted those who came. Some were pushed, shoved back, others fell on their backs. This reprieve granted enough opportunity for me to crash towards pit-fiends and unleash endless wrath. I fed my Urumi with the demonic blood that it so craved.

Relentless frenzy spiked outwards and sliced against the abominations, reducing them to lacerated mounds of dead flesh -- mush and chunks. Only tortured contortions issued from the red-skinned fiends as another round of Adjuration's impact violently shredded through their muscular bulk -- rending intestines, sundering hears and annihilating their very essence in a maelstrom of pulsating lacerations.

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The demons attempted to lock the cutting edge of the Urumi's blades with their bone-pillar horns, stacked closers to massive mauls and warhammers, but their valiant attempts were met with the scorn of Adjuration. Raw screams issued in agony as smiting blows carved clean sections of their horns and skulls. Lucent arcs from whip blades, only an after image of the trajectories, cleaved apart the ruthless head of one hulking brute. Another red carcass collapsed over itself next to it. Without pausing to admire my artistic handwork, I lashed Adjuration again. As the blades swirled against claws, scores of dismembered arms dropped with foul ichor and hollow thuds, and one more severed corpse toppled unto the blackened field of virulent death.

Narrowly dodging the heavy slam of a spiked maul, I rolled forward, gathering more momentum along the way, and transferred the same to the next swing of Adjuration. The Urumi sizzled across skulls, shattering the grotesque cage of the brains and scattering tattered bits of brain matter upon the cold, slick land.

Seizing the golden opportunity in my blind spot, more slams and blows followed. Their severe impacts sundered the grounds, setting trembling shockwaves leaching from the point of contact. Bone-shattering noises churned the contents of my stomach, pushing vitriolic bile up my throat. With a powerful thunderous kick to the ground, I leapt over one closely charging demon. Grabbing his wide tower-like horn and heaving myself over his shoulders, his low slash futilely met the empty space where I stood a moment ago. Avoiding another wide swing from his spiked flailing tail, I let the whips of the Urumi, sever his muscles and spine in a back-handed reverse blow.

Heaving as much air as my struggling muscles could hold, I dashed ahead, ignoring the crashing and bone-breaking collision of my pursuers behind. Their massive bulk, every bit menacing, glistening, sleek and black as flowing oil, dripping with malicious brutality, failed to hold back their rising momentum in time. With no time to waste, and judging my position with the approximate range of Adjuration, I spun mid-air, an impossible full circle. Extending my arm fully to leverage the long range of Adjuration, the tips of the bladed whips lacerated tendons, veins and muscles alike.

With the grace of an acrobatic dancer, I landed deftly on the toes of my feet. Summoning the slithering serpent-like whips in my palms, I gave one quick glance at the writhing mass of limbs and torso. From the voluminous rivulets of blood painting the grounds, it was evident. No one would be challenging me -- for a little while.

Undeterred, I stumbled away from the remnants of the corpse and struggling mass of pit-fiends. The knowledge that any moment those demons could re-organise themselves into a pursuit force urged me to quicken my pace. Wrapping Adjuration around my hips tightly, like a belt and with urgent strides, ignoring the slick trails of foul odour I proceeded ahead. With every advancing step the foetid breath of death burst forth. Tears welled in my eyes at the intensity of the putrid aura.

A presence, reeking like fetid ashes echoed slowly -- propelling me onward. Breathing short, gulping air without inhaling the vile fumes, I accelerated as soon as I sensed close proximity with the loathsome being. With the closing of distance, more threatening than the scent of rot was the sense of my skin sizzling against thousand lacerations cutting the space -- like million tiny droplets of water condensing to sharp icy needles that penetrated my skin. Despite the oppressive glacial stillness, sweat-stained my undergarments and my dishevelled unkempt hair, slick and clung to my scalp. Beads of sweat dripped freely down my forehead, itching my skin. Whatever it is that stains the air, it is something potent and powerful, but more importantly something that I had to expel, immediately.

Gripping Adjuration lowered my increasing panic as a cool comfort, like the sea breeze on a hot summer night cascaded over me. As clarity reigned inside me again, my senses liberated themselves from the oppressive overwhelming presence. There is no denying, that whoever is commanding these pit-fiends was testing....no.... taunting the limits of my resolve. As I exhaled a huge sigh, expunging every retch of filth that threatened to invade every fiber of my being, the veiled ethereal fog lifted revealing a female form.

"It has been some time since I had the pleasure of facing someone so unique," came the patronising voice oozing with pure distilled venom. Her voice would have been appealing, even tantalizing were it not for the demonic glee and the scornful contempt that laced with her tone. Arcing mystical winds made ruffling sounds around her presence, an artefact of reality in a futile attempt to eject her powerful presence from the plane. With a snap of her fingers, she commanded and everything appeared quiet. Only the serene balmy stillness of petrichor, surrounded me, giving birth to a most perverted silence between us.

I was too late. Where I expected a grotesque monstrous form, plump in rotundity, before me stood a frame, not rivalling my own in height, with a face that was indeterminate in age. Tenacious pickle green hair liberated themselves from the shackles of her braid, sprawled haphazardly and traced uneven lines down her temples, curling underneath. Perched atop swollen cheeks full in size and thickness, garishly stood pink orbs surrounded by dark iris. Her eyebrows flared with disbelief and blatant disdain at my approach, yet the corner of her lips slightly curled in amusement.

"Reverend Mother Zar'Amaris," she broke the silence at last, "is how I am known." -- Not her true name then.

Her dark eyes, cold, and calculating fixed mercilessly upon mine and we both held the gaze in a show of mettle. After an unending ambivalent moment, she broke the gaze with a smile, revealing a finely arrayed row of teeth and one slightly jutting canine.

"I am curious, Mortal. What affront did Demon Sovereign Vanaroth receive to warrant such a purge?" said half-asked and half-ruminated to herself. Despite the smile dancing on the corners of her lips, her dark eyes, cold and cunning, glittered at the implied threat behind her question.

"You are not from the scourge Warren then?" I asked with undisguised befuddlement spilling.

"Scourge Warren," she brushed the question with a laugh contorted with hidden mirth, "Opprobrium Domain is what I serve."

Her unwavering glare returned. In response, I quickly grabbed onto the edges of Adjuration, taking a slow progressive stance. At my act, a keen edge, like pleasure bloomed in her eyes. But cautious apprehension still tugged at my senses. She lowered her shoulders, relaxed her posture and with her ebony sabaton heels tapped the grounds in impatience. Giving no further indication that could alarm, the demon before me, I maintained a calm guarded bearing, like approaching the deadly hiss of a coiled serpent.

"It was worth bringing a contingent of pit-fiends to oh-so-see that in action," she said. Gone was the contempt and scowl from her voice and in its presence, something sultry and flirtatious lurked. The way she uttered "oh-so-see" and "that" sounded almost lewd.

"You sacrificed those demons just to see my weapon dance?" Anger surged in me, rising like a tidal wave threatening to overwhelm all.

Only a string of small raspy laughter came from her in response. She cooed on an almost scandalous note. The sibilant hiss in her breath tore the thinly guarded emotional barrier that I erected between us.

"Who would have thought that the Scarlet masquerade has an affliction for moral relativism?" Her voice, the note, their tone, everything contorted with vicious mockery. "Scarlet Masquerade" -- a name that I have not heard for a while. A part of me felt exhilaration at the thought of my former moniker known even in the Domain of Opprobrium.

"Answer me. How did you come by that weapon?"

Utter indignation throbbed inside me for an obvious reason. How could she -- so casually and with contempt -- refer to Lyria's gift, as if it were a cheap object for sale at a village fair? Furthermore, a sense of disgust rose for the viper in woman form before me. More particularly, in her action and purpose for rallying those pit-fiends to sate her own curiosity. But more importantly, my boiling rage seethed because of her object of attraction -- Adjuration. It was Lyria's soul; a sacred sign of our bond. And yet, this shameless demon covets it.

As if reading my thoughts, she raised an eyebrow, peering mischievously at my distraught.

"Come," I replied shackling all my rage for the exchange of blows, "raise your weapon and find out."

She crinkled her nose as if contemplating the boldness of my taunt. Then she shrugged as if she is bereft of any culpability.

"I must return to the Opprobrium Domain. To think that there is a mortal wielding such a power......to craft such a power........" she left the remaining of her words unsaid.

Turning away, she sauntered a few paces before turning back again with trepidation in her steps. with a mischievous squint in her eyes and an equally subtle smirk on her lips, she asked, "What do you call that weapon?"

But her question surprised me only for a brief narrow span as she shimmered with one crescent moon sweep before me. Clouds parted, while dusk settled above, blurring the landscape. Soaked imagery, like a dark illusion on a murky pool, rippled into existence. Vicious glint reflected from her armoured encased gorgeous form, as she leisurely sashayed towards her reflection.

"Adjuration," I shouted.

"That is cute," she smiled; mean derision of a smile further igniting my enraging fury.

"My Domain beckons and I bid farewell." she stepped closer to her portal. With her proximity, raging winds tore the landscape; howling unnaturally.

"What is so special about my Urumi?" I shouted at the top of my lungs to make myself heard over the din of the surrounding.

"Because," her clear voice cut through the winds as her Domain prepared to receive her, "That. Is. Godslayer."

And then there was utter sheer silence.