Two schemes hatched, one of light and the other of dark.

One wanted to grow and the other to devour.

Anzel plotted to snuff the last light of hope and Ric created a situation for his world to reclaim its damage.

————》●《————

“Kill me and take my spot.” Ric bellowed to the world above.

With no response, he offered the seat to the underworld.

To his surprise, the entire underworld bounced on the opportunity.

Old Demons stretched with their canes, children made packs, and the powerful plotted schemes.

“I meant one by one!” Ric frowned at the army disturbing his mid-day beauty sleep. “Oh, well… I am awake now. Let’s do this.”

————》●《————

Sir Reynold Icarus Chambers is a boon the gods bestowed upon humankind.

He was reminded of this daily since birth, and received a greater treatment than royalty, because of his healing power.

Toe didn’t like peasants entering his palace or sending his one ticket to glory outside the palace. Neither did Anzel, but it was essential for the kid to grow before Anzel decided if he wanted to use him or dispose of him.

Seeing Reynold’s rapid growth, Anzel leaned on the latter.

————》●《————

A fierce battle raged on for seven years.

Ric didn’t hesitate for one bit before smacking children’s heads together or beating an old demon with her own cane. When victory was imminent, he annoyed the rest of the world to join in on the slaughter party.

The world shook for seven years and realized the cause during the second.

It was Ric again… It was always Ric.

Yet none of them dared confront him until Ric himself planted an idea to collaborate.

Now, the entire world leaped on the chance to regain their balance, with only one doubt lingering in everyone’s mind.

‘Why didn’t they ever think of it?’

————》●《————

The boy was a genius of the highest caliber.

Sir Reynold healed minor wounds at the age of two. One just had to be nearby.

As time prolonged, he only grew stronger, eliminating poisons, defending against minor curses, and also being able to reattach any limbs under favorable circumstances.

The kid had to die. Anzel reaffirmed his decision.

————》●《————

Ric can die.

The world believed.

————》●《————

Plots were hatched to bend destiny to their will, but fate still leaned in favor of the odd one.

————》●《————

“Hold your fire!” the wing commander, Terrian, ordered.

“Veil of deceit.” Ric murmurs a silent spell and all hell breaks loose.

“I told you to hold.” Terrian roared at his army, while they ignored him and scattered about. “Do not rush the demon king,” he repeated himself to a def crowd.

Ric appeared in front of Terrian, his wife, the eternal dragon, the dragon queen, the true, former ruler of this world, head in his hand.

“That cannot be. She has been gone for a long time.” Terrian stammered, denying what his vision confirmed.

Her pale lush scales, fierce yet kind eyes, and those horns which she used to tickle him with.

Every aspect was fresh in his memory, in front of his eyes, yet he knew it was all an illusion.

A spell of lies created by the devil himself.

He told himself this a hundred times, even so, his heart yearned and shook the body to react, shook it to claim a head for a head. Forgo the promise to never cross paths with the demon king.

“Do you know when I started liking Dragon meat? Ric’s smile spreads to a mad grin, poking at the armies to break their formation.

“When I ripped her throat out.”

“One minute for the spell to take effect.” Minotaur chief told the Demon minister.

“That’s one minute too long.” The Minister completes his spell, summoning a white orb of pure power.

The orb burns through his flesh, yet the minister shows no visible pain.

He tosses the orb toward the Minotaur before it claims his hand.

Minotaur felt the urge to flee upon witnessing the effect of the orb on the demon minister's hand. As the second most powerful being after the demon king himself, he was disconcerted by his inability to withstand such power. Regardless of his pride, he decided to run.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

One step away the Minotaur froze in place.

“It won’t hurt your race. Calm down.” Demon Minister frowns and rips his arm out. “Take that to the dragon king and fuse it with his blade.”

“But—”

“Shut up and do as I say. I have known every demon king and this preparation to freeze his movements for a second won’t do you any good if you can’t kill him in that second. I have been preparing this since the first demon king. It should be more than enough for this twerp.”

Minotaur rushes to a Garuda and explains the plan. The orb kept shifting hands until all hell broke loose.

“Don’t fall for such a simple spell, you hot-headed nitwits.” Demon Minister scowls.

With a battle roar, he grabs the attention of the army beside him. Scanning through the crowd, he finds one worthy pawn to carry out the mission.

“Goblin king.” Minister gives a slight bow. “I need that sword if I—we have to win.”

Demon Minister points at the Dragon King who was being ripped in two by Ric.

“Which one?” The Goblin king spots two blades on either side of the dragon.

The question baffled the minister. “Anyone would do!”

“Okay.” The goblin king shrugs and rides the battle fox at the farthest sword.

“At times like these! Seriously!”

Minister swore to eliminate the damn goblin race once he claims the throne.

“Unleash the spell on my command.” He sends a telepathic message to the Elf king.

“But—” That imbecilic went on about the casualties who now rushed Ric.

‘Next, I am killing those pointy-eared freaks.’ Minister took a solemn vow.

“One down.” Ric ripped through the dragon king’s heart. “Now, whose heart should I eat in front of whom?” His power washes over the

battlefield, suppressing every aura in its path. His eyes darted between the kings who were the only ones that could withstand his presence.

“You? You, you…?” Ric bursts into mad laughter. “So many options.”

“We all will die if not.” Minister urges the Elf king.

Funny how Ric’s presence worked against him. Because of Ric’s aura, the Elf snapped into or out of senses and released the spell.

A massive chain flickered to reality, consuming every creature in its path as fuel.

Every soul on the battlefield lends their power to the Elf to create these soul-binding chains, and now all of them paid with their lives as it worked better with them acting as catalysts.

Time froze, the planet stood still, and while others sacrificed for this very moment, Ric was the only soul who enjoyed it.

“My stomach hungers for a petty demon today.” Ric stops and eyes the minister. “Haha ha-ha!”

The moment passed and no one stepped forward against the demon king.

Time froze for the demon king, but his smile froze the world.

A miracle takes place. As for now, only it could stand a chance before the demon king.

The moment passed and yet the chains stood within reality, holding the demon king in place.

————》●《————

Anzel liked to think he was the smartest man in Saint Cathel. No, the smartest to have been born after the ‘Apocalypse.’ He needed nothing else but his brain to soar up the pedestals of mortality.

One scheme led him into the castle and another is enough to lead him to rule the world.

Sir Toe was an imbecile, according to Anzel. He didn’t require an elaborate plan to fool the fool. First, he showed him the kid’s potential, then later planted the seed of doubt.

“We need a leash, my sire.” Anzel proposed.

He explained the concept of stupidity to the stupid several times and repeated it yet again.

Seriously, what did he expect?

The plan was simple for the simple-minded sir of his. “We shall put a leash so that the kid, Sir Reynold, never double-crosses me—us—YOU.”

Anzel adjusts his monocle to find two dumb-founded Sir Toe’s. He had to explain it to them again.

After several hours of explanation, Sir Toe agreed to the experiment where Anzel would place a forced bond over the kid, making him a pawn to the kingdom. To Sir Toe.

Anzel meant half of what he said. The kingdom of Saint Cathel should prosper. It’s the place where he was born and raised, after all. They will reach a new status and he shall be the reason behind it all.

He understood Sir Toe’s concerns over the experiment. It was a new territory of magic and the child could die during the procedure, but Anzel didn’t mind the results either way.

A pawn that won’t follow his command is of no use to him and by extension, to Saint Cathel.

————》●《————

Two knives claimed two hearts

How fast can you heal? Questions Anzel with a devious smile, twisting the knife deeper into a kid, Sir Reynold’s chest.

How can you win without healing? The Demon Minister exploited the demon king’s only weakness.

A blade dug into the Demon king’s heart as the world roared and threw every spell at him.

Wounds piled on… until the odd ones met their demise and were claimed by the passage of time.

————》●《————

Nun Mary never believed in violence. While the world plotted away, she worked toward salvation.

The world deemed Mary a fool as she cared for the poor, less fortunate, needy, and the ones the people discarded as trash.

She took in anyone who didn’t have a roof over their head. She fed anyone who asked for food, and her home, her heart, always saw everyone equally.

In times of happiness, everyone laughed at her.

Of despair, after the Apocalypse, she became the beacon of hope.

King Author banished Mary from his kingdom, provoking the people to start a civil war.

Mary struck a deal with him, leaving the citizens with a better future within the most powerful kingdom, leaving them with their lives. She struck a deal to make homes for the homeless, farms for the hungry, and hope for those who have lost everything in the war. All she had to do was leave and what an insignificant matter it was when her people got what they deserved.

After foreseeing the construction and teaching the people to farm and respect each other, she left without saying goodbye.

No nation dared allow such a saint to step into their kingdom. The irony never left her lips, as Mary’s smile only grew over time.

Rumours led Mary to Saint Cathel. While other nations blocked her every effort to enter or care for their citizen, even outside of their city, Cathel welcomed Mary with open arms.

Anzel did not care if she entered or gave hope to the citizens.

He read people like a book and Mary would never start a war if it meant death, even for a single individual, and war always meant death.

Mary set up a small tent which grew into a small village where every citizen visited at least once a week.

Minor wounds were treated with bandages and broken hearts were mended with good company. She had no power and did not need them to give hope, to save who she could.

Anzel threw many trials her way, asking for taxes, demanding to produce more food for the capital, materials for alchemy, and slaves to serve.

Little by little, they tested her patience, broke the citizen’s will, and forced Mary back to the tent she started with. Yet nothing Anzel did broke her smile or break her will to help.

Mary rebuilt her tent into a house and took several children under her wing, starting from scratch.

It might take a while to build back her village, but that’s what the citizens told her about her house.

How can we ever go back? It is impossible. We are doomed to fail; they lost hope.

“Look how much steadier and spacious it is compared to my previous house.” Mary beamed at her two-story building. “You don’t need magic to grow. We build our lives with our own hands.” She flexed her muscles, which were just bone and skin, forcing a chuckle from the crowd.

The chuckle died down faster than she hoped and people held onto their disbelief and Mary could not blame them for it.

She understood and stood taller than before, ready to reignite the hope.

Searching for some sweet berries to make her signature ale, Mary stumbled upon a suspicious group riding deeper into the forests of the Fae.

“Such fools.” Mary curses and follows them, hoping to speak some sense into them.

The torches left a trail of smoke, which settled on the forest floor like a cloud of road for Mary to follow.

The Fea mist engulfing the forest had mystical powers, and those riders were riding deep into death’s territory.

Mary muttered a prayer, following the smoke path, praying for them to be safe and for all of them to return home in one piece.

Her prayer didn’t change even when she witnessed the soldiers of Cathel disposing of bodies over a pile of already rotting corpses.

The stench circled the corpses as the fae mist kept it condensed. When the soldiers lit the mountain of corpses on fire, even then the mist never let the flames spread.

The soldier laughed and waited for the pile to reduce while Mary held her tears and screams, praying in silence for the souls to find a better place.

She still didn’t find it in her to curse them, so she included their names in the prayer and wished they changed their ways before more souls suffered.

A prayer, a god, fate, or just sheer dumb luck. As Mary opened her eyes, the mist swallowed the soldiers up and a hand rose within the flames, seeking salvation.

Mary dashed toward the blazing mountain; the soldier’s distinct noises ringing in her ear. They were still close by and the mist covered her, for now.

The mist played tricks, or the soldiers hid under the mist. Mary didn’t know and didn’t care. She swallowed her screams as she dove into the fire.

A prayer, the little spark of hope it generates; can, and did move a mountain—a mountain of flames.

Mary dashed in and out of the flames. Her tears created a wet blanket of protection around her and the child she carried. She never stopped running, in fear of the soldiers, in fear of the fire catching up to her.

she took shelter under a massive oak, cradling the child who had no skin and dangled by a thread, choosing to live or end his suffering.

Mary pleaded for his name, trying to convince the light that this child in her arms was worth a second chance.

A light whisper escaped the child’s lips as Mary bowed and raised to the heavens, demanding the light to glow within the child.

“Please...” Mary begged. “Just this once, listen to me and I shall ask nothing of you again. Save this child, for he has never sinned. Save him to prove you exist, to show you protect. Save him and I shall never ask anything of you again. For he is all I desire. Please…”

“Save Ric.”

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