It was a moment Melchious would treasure.

He made it better by twisting the blade in her back before tearing out the sword and grabbing her by the tail. He swung her against the wall, and her bones made a very satisfying crack. However, Arraxia had never been one to give up. Arraxia? Why was he thinking of her by that name? Of course, he knew her true name, yet it would not come to mind.

In his hesitation, she arose and rushed at him. He brought around one fist and struck her across the face. The blow sent her tumbling head over heels to land on the ground. Satisfied for the moment, Melchous sheathed his sword.

"Did you think that paltry mirror would be sufficient to stop me?" he asked.

"It should have," said Arraxia. "I saw all of my atrocities, everything I'd done from a rational perspective, and it nearly broke me. And you've had a very creative career. How are you alive?"

"You are correct that gazing into the Mirror of Laevian destroyed my mind," said Melchious. "And I was indisposed for a time. Yet I was more than prepared for the possibility of such an assault and took precautions.

"I have been breaking off fragments of my spirit for many years. Laughing Wraith was one such entity. Formed from my will, he enacted my plans without any knowledge and allowed me to reach into other worlds. Each time he was killed, that aspect of my personality was restored and broken off again. The paladin whose form I now inhabit was much like him." He looked at his hands, very human hands. "Ironically, you seem to hold him in such affection. But the truth is that William Gabriel never existed. I only thought I was him.

"When I made my deal with his father all those years ago, I implanted a piece of my soul into him. That piece was meant to enter into the wife of the Duke of Brisgald. It would give me control over that region on the borders of my realm.

"Unfortunately, Duke Vanion manipulated my good intentions for his gain. My avatar was instead born to that harlot from Themious. I've spent fourteen years as a Gabriel. Pretending to value all life." He grabbed the axe and spun it around. "Yet my will was still able to work through William, enacting my will even as Elranor enacted his. With the power of the Goldenwood Harp, I could break into Fortenex's domain. Thus I was able to retrieve that which is rightfully mine. Yet, without being physically present, I could not retrieve the Axe. Thus, I made other arrangements.

"I enhanced the power of Karasush's call, luring far more raishans to this world than had been planned. Once that happened, it was inevitable that Vanion would become involved. And with my recent exploits, I hoped to become part of the expedition." He tested the Axe of Fortenex's weight. It was just as he remembered it; he had changed. A smile came to his face as he remembered the armies he had slaughtered with this weapon. "Now, it is time I paid you back with a small measure of the suffering you inflicted on me."

He turned.

Arraxia was gone. She had slipped away while he was talking. Melchious didn't think she was smart enough to know when she was beaten, but he supposed even she could see that much. "Excellent strategy. I will deal with you later."

He looked at the weapon in his hands. Such beautiful craftsmanship would save many lives. Long had he labored in another life to earn the right to wield this weapon. With the devastation wrought by his machinations, he had proven himself a second time.

The Axe of Fortenex thirsted for blood. The more death and misery surrounded it, the stronger it became. He needs now only a final bloody orgy to unlock its real power. Then, he would deal with Father for his betrayal.

Father? Why should he think of him so? Some remnant of William's old mannerisms, no doubt.

Melchious passed from the temple and soon emerged on that same hill. He looked at the village far below. He would begin his sacrifices with them and slaughter them all, down to the last man, woman, and child.

Yet something held him back.

He wasn't quite sure what it was. Some remnant of the paladin's mind? Some revenant of that antiquated morality that possessed mortals. Or, more likely, the part of Elranor within him. Then again, the Axe of Fortenex was tied to Fortenex. It would not please the demon lord for Melchious to kill all his minions.

Oh well. He could improvise.

"Lord Melchious, have events proceeded as planned?" asked Karasush behind him.

Ah, yes, the pawn. He could be of further use. Melchious drew out the sword by his side. Many red runes were along the blade's center, runes of observation. Rusara could see everything that was happening. There may have been a means by which he could use this. He sheathed the blade.

"Not entirely," said Melchious. "The cursed traitor managed to slip away. Yet not before breaking the seal and delivering the Axe of Fortenex into my hands. Now I have everything I need to conquer this place."

"With respect, Melchious, Raynald, and Rusara have proven quite formidable," said Karasush.

"Yes. Many have been destroyed," mused Melchious. "However, in doing so, they have divided their forces. And many more raishans have dispersed throughout the land. Their numbers have been bolstered with the souls of innumerable mortals they captured.

"Even as we speak, a new generation of my pets arises in dozens of caves. They have but defeated my vanguard," He raised the Axe of Fortenex and channeled his power. "Now, my minions! Come to me!"

At his command, a bolt of red light shot into the air. As Melchious poured forth his will into the land, he felt them. Innumerable thousands were coming to him as they spoke, and Rusara sensed it.

The raishans were coming in the tens of thousands toward Melchious. Their bloodlust and hunger were endearing. It was only a shame that he'd done so much damage to them while unaware of his true nature.

Now the question was: Would they act as Melchious had predicted?

He sent out raishans to scout Khasmir. Within hours, he saw that the main army had rallied at Kynn, drawing back their primary forces. No doubt, they hoped to resist the siege. He noticed messengers being sent to the Calishans. Had an alliance been arranged? So much, the better.

"Events proceed as hoped," said Melchious to Karasush as time passed. "The loss of Raynald and Rusara will destroy the greater part of Vanion's power. His enemies at court will seize upon this defeat. Combined with his truce with Baltoth, it will see to it that he loses Artarq. No doubt, Andoa will replace him with someone less competent.

"A generation from now, the population of Khasmir will have been replenished. Replenished with servants of Fortenex and myself. The defenses will have fallen into ruin, and Baltoth will seek to press his claim. "It is then we will strike."

"As you say, Lord Melchious," said Karasush.

What was Fortenex doing during all of this? It surprised Melchious how inactive he had been. He'd been expecting the demon lord to say or do something. Yet he seemed perfectly content for Melchious to regain the axe. That seemed odd to Melchious, given how they had parted ways before. A smile came to his face as he looked at his weapon.

Truly magnificent.

"Now, my hosts are gathering as we speak," he said. "I will lead them myself."

Yes, he hesitated again. Something held him back. What was happening? Why was he feeling so strange? This reluctance that washed over him made each step taken harder than the last. No matter. Whatever remained of William Gabriel was but a shattered remnant.

With a spell, Melchious summoned to him his wings that sprouted from his back. They were like those of a dove, as white as snow. He rose into the air and flew over the highlands. Below him, he could see his armies mustering. Chattering and screeching filled the valleys as raishans poured from their caves. All were assembling to serve Melchious.

By the time the sun began to set, raishans were all here. It was time for war.

Sending his will coursing through the raishans, Melchious led them forward toward Kynn. By his will, he urged them forward. His armies covered the hills, and he could sense the fear of his enemies. Several villages that were in the way of his forces were destroyed. Those who would not flee were butchered like the sheep they were.

He could see that the Calishans were marching to support Kynn. He would get there first, however. He doubted that the assault would be a success. His raishans would cause much carnage and kill many. Yet they would be annihilated.

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It was fortunate that he did not need to gain victory to win.

Soon, he could see Kynn with his own eyes. He landed on a ledge with the sun behind him and motioned with the axe. His minions rushed forward with slavering fury. Arrows fell upon the raishans, killing many, but there were always more. They scaled up the hill, clambering over the corpses of their fallen wherever they walked.

Great bursts of flame appeared among the raishans. It killed them by the hundreds as they began to scale the walls like spiders. Spearmen stabbed down at them, driving them off. Again and again, they rushed against the barrier and failed each time. Blood soaked the ground. Yet it was hardly sufficient for Melchious' preference. He saw Raynald fighting on the walls, carving down everything that scaled the wall.

Yet soon, the unending tide began to creep onto the walls. A melee was ensuing, and the real fun began. A desperate stalemate began. Raishan and mortal tore each other to pieces. Melchious watched in gladness. Brothers, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, and sisters were all torn. Many widows and orphans would lament this day.

He looked forward to hearing their wails.

Yet, thinking that seemed unnatural. William had hated to see others suffer. Yet why should he care about that?

Because he wasn't acting. Melchious had the Axe of Fortenex. Why had he not rushed to battle? Something was wrong. He had always been eager to seek carnage. His enjoyment of blood and death was a legend.

So why was he just standing here, watching the fun?

Another inferno made him aware of how much damage Rusara was doing to his raishans. He did not lament their deaths. These creatures existed to die for him; had they survived; he would still have disposed of them. Yet, killing Rusara would surely be a glorious accomplishment. It would also be an excellent beginning to his revenge against Vanion.

Flying high into the air, he looked over the battle. The combat was becoming ever more bloody. His raishans were endless. By his will, he had been breeding an army of raishans for months, summoning the creatures all over. Now, all the caves and pits of Khasmir were empty, and it showed.

And there was Rusara, snapping her fingers again and again. Each time, more of his minions were consumed. Raising his axe, he finally felt the thirst for blood coming to him. She would be a fitting sacrifice to Fortenex.

Swooping downward, he brought his axe toward the back of her head.

Yet she ducked, and the blade passed over her. Again, she snapped her fingers, and Melchious was hit head-on with a burst of fire. The heat was terrible, and he spun backward, landing and drawing in his wings to become human once more.

Rusara took a ready stance as she saw him. Or who she had thought him to be. Would she stare in shock at who had tried to strike her? Why was the boy who had been like a son to her seeking her life? Cry out in horror as she saw what had happened.

She snapped her fingers again, and Melchious narrowed, avoiding being burned alive. This was something less of a reaction than he had anticipated. Soon, he had no time to think as bolt after bolt of fire was thrown at him. It wasn't difficult, but it was irritating.

Here, he had turned one of the things most precious to her against her! Yet this harlot didn't even have a reaction!

Angered, he surged forward and brought his axe down on her. Yet she dodged and weaved before drawing out a long knife and slashing at his throat. Stepping back, Melchious took a stance as they faced each other down.

"I'm surprised at you," he said. "You are quick to kill a boy you have known since he was a child."

"I have known many children," said Rusara. "Many of them are old now. I will not give you the satisfaction of trying to reach what does not exist."

"Yes, I forgot how cold-blooded you were." mused Melchious. "William's memories are tinged with a sort of nostalgia. One that makes it difficult to remember."

"Die," said Rusara.

She snapped her fingers again, and Melchious raised the axe. The inferno burned around him, hotter than any Rusara had summoned before. It would have killed anyone else. But Melchious merely channeled the power of Fortenex, and it faded.

Surging forward, Melchious brought around his axe. Rusara stepped back too late, and everything slowed down. He was going to kill her. Kill Rusara, the woman who had been like a mother to him, no to William.

Before he knew what had happened, he had turned the axe. The flat struck Rusara along the side of the head. She fell backward, unconscious. This was ridiculous! He would finish her where she lay!

Raising the axe, he brought it down-

Something hit him. Melchious was thrown from the wall. Falling downward, he resummoned his wings and gained lift. He righted himself as he was about to hit the ground and flew high. Then he saw her. Arraxia was flying in the air, clutching a bolt of violet fire. She hurled it, but he raised a hand, dissipating it before it could reach him.

Coming to a halt, Melchious glanced at the battle. Without Rusara, the raishans were gaining a great deal of territory. They would soon overwhelm Kynn's defenses if the Calishans arrived later. He was interested in something other than who won this combat. Either one would suit his purposes. Instead, he regarded Arraxia as she flew up to face him.

"Well, that is irritating." mused Arraxia. "It seems I shall have to play the role of the insufferably whiney damsel, pleading with her loved one to-"

Melchious hurled the axe, and it spun toward Arraxia. She dove low to avoid being beheaded. The axe spun away before returning to Melchious' hand. She surged upward toward him and veered away at the last minute.

"My dear William," said Arraxia, "I do hope you can realize when you are being duped, are you not?"

"You waste your time, fool," said Melchious. "William never existed."

"I beg to differ," said Arraxia. "I know you, Melchious. I know that you could never bear to have the sort of insufferable compassion William does. You've suppressed his will and are keeping it down by convincing him that he has none."

"Silence!" How dare she? Melchious unleashed a flurry of strikes at her. Yet something was slowing his blows, and she could avoid them narrowly.

"Oh, you are," mused Arraxia. "Good, that was just me guessing." She halted before him in mid-air. "You see, I was thinking over all this, and one of the immutable laws of the universe occurred to me. You cannot destroy a soul.

"You can change a soul.

"You can dominate a soul. You can break off pieces of a soul to create a new one, but destroying one is impossible.

"And absorbing a soul which has its uttermost source in you is likewise impossible. This is precisely why we demons take mortal consorts. Coupling with a mortal allows us to create offspring without dividing ourselves."

"Don't tell me what I already know!" roared Melchious. "I was the one who taught you all this!"

"Of course you were. And I am merely instructing dear William in the details," said Arraxia. "What he does with the information is entirely his business."

"William was but a mask!" snarled Melchious. He was, wasn't he?

"Really? A moment ago, I thought you said he didn't exist?" said Arraxia. "It was all very clever, Melchious. But I think I've already made my point."

Her point? What point could she be trying to make? He was Melchious! He slaughtered thousands without remorse! Worlds had been laid to waste by his hands! Entire civilizations purged for the sake of his amusement! And yet he was restrained; something kept holding him back. Was it possible that some part of the boy survived?

Yet, if that were the case, he would have known about it. Unless, unless his control was not total. His will had not fully manifested itself. In which case, the boy-

No, he, he could fight it. He could stop this. He felt his spirit at war with another, one foreign to him, and he saw the part which his enemy had had in him. He would not allow this! He would not be held back-

-by this miserable child!

-by this monster!

Where once their thoughts had been combined now, they were at war. William tore himself away from the thing within him, fighting against the control. It all happened in a moment.

It was a moment Arraxia did not waste. She struck him with her tail, sending him falling to earth. Melchious narrowly snatched control to catch himself and ward off her next assault. Yet William pressed against him, tearing at his mind.

He would not allow this! He would not let this happen!

The power of Elranor welled up within William, and Melchious screamed. There was a light around them, brighter and brighter, and then the spirit of Melchious fled out of him. The wings which had come from his back withered and fell away. William collapsed against the earth. The Axe of Fortenex clattered to the ground next to him.

Around him, he saw the carnage. The raishans had gotten over the walls now. There was fighting in the courtyards. Little by little, the defense was being driven in. It was only a matter of time now. He had to act.

William tried to rise, but before he could, Arraxia descended. One clawed foot slammed him downwards as her tail lashed around the Axe of Fortenex. Raising it, she brought it down toward him. Yet when the blade hit his helmet, it glanced off. It didn't feel like a weapon; it was like a feather had been slapped against his face.

"What?" said Arraxia. "This is absurd! I have more than proven myself! Why shouldn't I be able to execute him?!" Her tail flicked. "No matter, I'll find some more direct way to do it." And she raised her tail as if to plunge the end into his throat.

Then, there was a roar, and Massacre leaped over the walls. The beast descended upon Arraxia, bowling her over. Chimera and demoness rolled in the dirt, claws, and teeth tearing at each other. Massacre breathed her fire down onto the demoness. Yet the fire was quenched as her tail wrapped around the dragon's head and stabbed the blade into it. Arraxia kicked her off, drawing out her tail and holding it tenderly. For a moment, she and Massacre faced one another. Then she flew into the air and began to fly away, the Axe of Fortenex still clutched in one hand.

William had had enough. Staggering to his feet, he rushed after her and grabbed her by the tail. Hauling backward, he spun her body around and sent her flying towards the wall. Arraxia crashed against it, and William drew his sword to rush toward her.

He'd kill her and finish this.

He didn't feel any real hatred for her. He didn't feel anything else either; there was a sort of void where he should feel something regarding her. He tried not to think of it as he bashed her down with his shield. Then that damn tail smashed him aside. He could feel the blade scraping against his armor, and as he tried to rise, it hit him again.

He slashed at it, and she screamed as she drew it back. The Axe of Fortenex fell from her hands as she grabbed her cut appendage. Leaping into the air, she smashed him down and flew away quickly. And William realized why.

The raishans were being finished off around him. But the sound of battle could still be heard over the walls. He scaled up the stairs and looked down from the battlements. Assembled in the fields before them were the hosts of Calisha.