Prologue
To those who read this before the 28th of August 2015, I changed the prologue. Sorry, I thought it didn't fit with the story even though the event did happen.
July 26, Year 289 of the Inanis Calendar
Lightning struck the broken tower top. The black bolt ripped the roof to shreds, scattering the tiles away like they were fine grains of sand. The stream of dark light did not recede, it sprinted across the ruins, washing over the debris and reducing them to dust.
Rie eyed the scene and nodded with disinterest. The outcome had been decided. It was now time for her to move. She threw back her brown cloak and revealed her long sleeved-white blouse. It contrasted with the short-sleeved black shirt she wore over it. These and the ragged dark blue denim pants she donned were definitely not the most fashionable outfit, but it was appropriate. This outfit used to be her casual clothing, it wasn’t too flashy and not too plain. It gave the impression that she could bite if provoked, while retaining a little feminine charm with the blouse. Now, the outfit was a reminder of a life from a distant past.
She kicked aside one of the fallen charred trees with the toe of her dark-leather boot, and a metallic rattle broke the silence. It had come from the golden scabbard tied to her waist belt, and the brilliant blade inside it. If it wasn’t for that thing, she wouldn’t be here in the first place. She would never have crossed the Infallible Gate and trod on Alvazar.
Alvazar, said to be lush with greenery, spread before her. It was a verdant land earlier this morning, but calling it a wasteland would be an understatement now. Billowing veils of ash stifled the glaring rays of sunlight. Rie would’ve choked too, if she had not set a barrier of clean air around her. The invisible whirling globe enclosing her fended off soot that drew too close. A convenient spell, with the only downside being her long black hair getting into her eyes.
The unhealthy particles polluting the air wasn’t the only thing she warded away. A foul stench enveloped the area. Blackened remains of beasts, from tiny to gigantic, littered the freshly formed craters in organized columns and rows. These were the more resistant species, but that defensive trait had prolonged their needless suffering.
Rie recalled the scene this morning, a stark comparison to this current graveyard before her.
Armies of monsters, from goblins to dragons had been strategically deployed around the castle. They acted as a hammer and a poisoned knife. A hammer to squash the enemy forces, and a poisoned knife to weaken their champion. Proud and brave humanoids lifted hundreds of banners, and pounded thousands of war drums. Millions of cries exploded from the boundless sea of creatures. They were prepared to drown their enemies.
The overhanging grey clouds cracked apart like an eggshell, and whirled.
From within the vortex, a streak of orange light silently crashed down onto the castle like a meteor and shook its foundations. The thunderous roar rumbled in after a slight delay, lagging behind the shockwaves. Even after the collision, the orange afterglow stretching back burnt the air like an afterimage.
The solid iron walls shined red as they curled outwards from the intense heat. A large part of them melted down to form seething pools of orange sludge. The hissing puddles kept any but the most heat-resistant of creatures at bay.
The assault was too sudden.
The armies of the Demon King could not even react to it. The thick-armoured behemoths in the frontlines were robbed of their duty as immovable vanguards. The wyverns and dragons watching from the roof of the skies above were taken by surprise. The strike had crushed their meticulous preparations. The enemy’s champion had breached the castle.
Most of the armies abandoned their defensive posts and marched towards the Infallible Gate, while a small portion remained behind to aid the Demon King. Numbers did not matter anymore once the Hero had plowed so deep into their territory. It was impossible for their whole numbers to fit inside the castle grounds like how it was impossible to contain the sea inside a small vial, so it was the best course of action.
The battle continued, both at the frontlines and the innermost sanctum of the Demon King’s army. Rie could not see the state of the Infallible Gate from where she was, but the state of Alvazar was bared before her.
The castle ruins grew bigger in her eyes. She glanced behind her, spotting her tracks on the ash. Her footsteps crawled back in a long line and disappeared up a black dune, reappearing on the elevated surface of another mound beyond. She had walked a long way, and took her time at it. She could have covered the distance in the blink of an eye, but she didn’t want to.
The large pillar of lightning passed by in front of her at ridiculous speed, carving out deep ditches on the perimeter of the castle. The ground hissed in agony as it was dug into with awesome power. Even in the Airshield, the emanating heat from the vapourised earth singed her.
She leapt over the trench and passed through the remnant of the fallen gateway. There were other entry points that she could have went in through, but she felt that it was appropriate to enter through that half-buried archway. It was human nature to enter or exit buildings through doors, and she was no exception.
The 107th Hero had been brutal and efficient in his assault. A swift and confident strike at the heart of the Demon King’s castle, it was akin to skipping the early levels and going straight to the final boss. He wasn’t a low-levelled character though. In fact, the 107th Hero was supposed to be the second strongest Hero in history. Many claimed that he lacked strategy, but Rie thought going on full offense to prevent a prolonged battle was a good move.
The outcome of the battle should have been predictable, and most of humanity was confident with their victory. Most, because Rie thought otherwise.
The pendant resting on her modest cleavage made her feel uneasy. It was strangely noticeable today, even though it was resting on the outside of her two-layered shirt. People had often mistaken the design as a poorly crafted inverted cross— but it was actually an amateur-made replica of a short curved sword. A katana. If she mentioned the name here, she'd only get shoulder shrugs and head tilts. The person who made this for her had forged a life-sized version of it later on, and it was currently being used by Armitage’s Knight Commander.
Yes, she wasn't from this world. The tale to explain her standing here was a very extensive one that would take days to tell in detail. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, she didn’t have the time to reminisce. Because she had arrived at her destination.
The 107th Hero was leaning back against a thick crumbled pillar.
No, it was wrong to say that. He was pinned to it with a jet-black blade that ran through his heart. Dark beads of blood dripped down his chin. His head hung low in peaceful slumber. He was never going to wake again. His tough Dragonscale armour had multiple holes with numerous cracks spidering from the forced openings. His body bore signs of a difficult and bloody battle all over, just like the ruins around them. It was a tragic defeat, and any human would have cried in despair at the sight.
However, Rie did not come to aid the Hero. It was not her desire or task to influence the outcome of the 107th Cycle.
“Have you come to pick me off, little carrion?” A soft translucent voice came from behind her.
She already knew that he was there, but she did not face him until he spoke.
Seated on his throne was the 107th Demon King. It was amazing to see the audience chamber so untouched compared to the rest of Alvazar. The dark green carpet climbing its way up the throne was spotless. The golden leaves depicted in the tapestries brimmed with life in their veins. The scene was identical to the starting point of most old Japanese Role Playing Games, with her as the chosen one. In the rectangular area of the audience chamber, nothing had been touched except for the torn-out roof. Nothing else was harmed. Not even the Demon King.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
With the still-moving column of black lightning serving as a distant background, the Demon King displayed majesty that was unrivalled by any human sovereigns. His crackling black wings spread out behind his back, and extended on each side of the throne until they almost touched the walls. His straight jet-black hair framed his delicate and handsome features while the rest of his pale body was hidden away by the shadowy grey robe wreathed around him.
The form hugging shroud hinted at an excellently sculpted body underneath. He was beautiful, if the term was ever meant to be used for a male, the 107th Demon King deserved it. He was the spitting image of what a man would look like in the imagination of a female artist.
“I am flattered that you are gawking at me so, but surely you have more important matters to attend to?” The Demon King interrupted.
Rie blinked and closed her mouth. She was taken by surprise, but certainly not due to the Demon King’s good looks. Her throat was dry, prompting her to swallow her saliva. Breathing was a chore with each inhalation painfully noticeable in her mind.
That face… that voice…
She recognised it. She wouldn’t have mistaken him for another person. Even if she was blindfolded, she would still be able to pick out that voice amongst thousands of others. Why…?
No.
She clenched her fists until her fingernails dug into her palms. She tightened her jaw and glared at the Demon King.
“The outcome had been decided. I shall proceed to carry out my task” Rie said in a cold, distant voice.
The sound of metal sliding against metal rang across the chamber as she unsheathed her blade. She held the golden sword in a two handed grip, and flowed into a fighting stance. Even a complete novice would have recognised the silent but dangerous aura she radiated, whereas a master would have fallen on their knees. The Demon King, however, only stared at her as if he was amused.
“I am not an easy opponent, little carrion. You may still turn back now” The Demon King spoke out like a true high and mighty ruler. His tone and facial expression did not match however, as he was smiling like an innocent child.
But his offer was met with silence.
“Why must you fight me? Do you even understand my motives?” He asked. “A battle without reason is nothing but pure aggression, is it not?”
“Draw your weapon” Rie replied, her face calm like still water.
“The 107th Hero had lost, and he was stronger than you are. Surely you understand what would happen if you challenge me?” The Demon King knitted his eyebrows.
The Demon King didn't need to say it. She was not the chosen Hero of this Cycle, and she was not talented enough to stand on the same level as him. But, that was irrelevant. She WILL carry out her mission here and now.
The Demon King broke eye contact and sighed, sensing the futility of his effort.
“One plus one equals two, water is wet, and fire is hot. Those are the truths of the world as you know them, are they not? What if I told you, there are underlying truths that precedes and supersedes what you’ve already known?” He began. “Is it so terrible if I unravel and share this ultimate truth?”
“Draw your weapon” Rie repeated, her hands trembling.
The Demon King’s expression darkened. He was done with attempting to talk.
“Very well, I acknowledge your willpower and strength but know that I would never be defeated. Not by you, and not by your master” He raised his right hand, palm facing outwards, and the lightning column outside zipped around the audience chamber once. As soon as it completed its circuit, it shrunk like a drying stream and vanished.
Rie raised her guard. She couldn't attack first. Her accursed heart would not allow her to attack this opponent now. It wasn’t… fair.
A bluish white light shined around the castle, bathing the ruins in its radiance. Even the ashen skies were set alight with the mysterious glow. Rie squinted at the glowing ditches dug by the lightning bolt. It had not been moving around without a purpose. It had been drawing a pattern.
It had been drawing a magic circle.
The shining blue streams coursed towards the centre of the circle like a raging river. The streams of energy climbed up the walls in straight intersecting lines and rushed towards the Demon King, suffusing him with awesome power. His appearance did not change in the slightest, but the air quivered and crackled with his newly infused strength.
The image of the Demon King constantly warped in Rie’s eyes. Space itself had distorted as it could not handle the extremely condensed power.
“Wrath!” He called out as he extended an open hand to his side.
His dark wings danced in the light. Like flames being blown by a strong wind, the long tendrils of darkness moved at incredible speed and coalesced within his palm. Leaving behind a third of their original span, the wings had spawned a black sphere on his palm. He crushed it in an iron grip, and the remains oozed through the tiny cracks in his fist. It stretched in a vertical line before solidifying into a long two-sided trident.
The weapon was darkness incarnate. It froze the motion of all light within the Demon King's immediate vicinity. The situation was inconceivable through visual means, but she still kept her eyes open.
Ungodly tremors threatened to knock her down, but her impeccable sense of balance rooted her in the same position. The previously untouched tapestries fell and crumpled onto the matted carpet. Thick, long cracks tore the marble floor asunder like it was made of paper.
“I will break free from this prison!” He roared a declaration. "Tell your master of the futility of his efforts, remind him of who we are!" At that point, all traces of softness had left the Demon King's voice. What was left behind could hardly be called human.
“I see…” Rie muttered under her breath. The tone of voice was exactly the same, identical in pitch too. But those words— they did not belong. “You really aren’t him…”
She didn't tell the Demon King to draw his weapon because she was craving for a fight. She wanted to know his current identity so she could have peace of mind. She steadied her grip on the hilt and breathed deeply. The answer to her question had been given.
The image of the Demon King was still static in her eyes, but she had many other means to detect movement. She formed an accurate image made of three-dimensional lines in her mind. The sound feedback received through her ears were sufficient to draw the battlefield in detail.
Perhaps it was returning the favour for not initiating a surprise attack, but the Demon King was not attacking. If that was how he wanted it to be, so be it.
“107th Demon King, you are hereby sentenced to eternal rest as per the laws of the Cycle!” Rie shouted. Every syllable vibrated in her throat when she voiced them.
“Might and wits bow before the arbiter”
“Chains of fate shall be shattered”
“This Cycle will be fettered” she finished her oath.
Within one breath, she called out a name.
And the Cycle was ended.
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I'm not sure if any of my previous readers would find this.... :sigh:
But, if you had read Armus : First Draft and are waiting for the revamped version... I'm still working on it. Screw myself for choosing a five-volume story as my first writing project. Since the path ahead is VERY daunting and time consuming, I intend to be VERY prepared in the planning stage so I don't get the occasional writer's block or drill out gaping plot holes.
Well, anyway, I've changed some things about the story for the better. I've got a whole list of em but maybe it's best that you just find out yourself once I upload the chapters. The only thing noticeable at this moment is I changed Chase from 10 to 13.
See ya!