Chapter 37 - Nero

The air was cold. This far down into the ravine, where silhouettes were made harsh under the singular light of the gate, a permanent chill seemed to permeate him down to the bone. He wondered if Cassius’s home had been shielded from it, or if he simply hadn’t noticed it before.

Lazar released a breath and lowered his hands from their clasped position. At his feet, the precisely sliced pieces of a demon were placed gingerly beside a tall boulder half obscuring the cave exit. It had been a flesh eater, one likely recently born based on its still amorphous limbs, and easy to kill. Like this, separated into smaller, easily consumable chunks, it was indistinguishable from any other type of “meat.”

The seraph turned away and slipped deeper into the tunnels. That was the third one, and the third passing prayer he’d spoken that morning.

Lazar navigated through the winding cave system with memorized ease, mentally counting how long it took him to pass each exit and estimating the distance. By the time he made it back to the first alcove they’d used for shelter, Ciel was already by the opening, peering down into the ravine. She glanced back as his footsteps approached.

“Done?”

Lazar nodded and crouched down as well. When he turned, the flesh eater raised an eyebrow.

“You’re shaking.”

Lazar blinked. He glanced down at his fingers, tightly gripped around his halberd, he realized she was right. A faint tremor ran through his arm, and he watched with blank fascination as his muscles moved of their own accord. The seraph took his other hand and placed it on the trembling one, pressing down and squeezing until the shaking finally stopped.

“Thank you for telling me,” he murmured. Those golden eyes continued to study him, sharp and unreadable.

“You sure you’re up for this? You’re looking a little unstable right now.” Her voice was blunt and direct, and Lazar felt a chuckle rise before he could force it down.

“I’ll be alright. I…didn’t sleep well, but it won’t impede my fighting.” He smiled a little, aware of how strained it was. “To be frank, if we wait any longer, I think it may just get worse.”

The flesh eater was silent for a few moments, but finally, she snorted and turned away to focus back on the gate.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Her gaze shifted to the ravine floor, and Lazar did the same.

Below them, Nero’s massive form paced back and forth in front of the pillar of light, exactly where he’d been before. While traversing the tunnels, both to memorize the position of the exits and to place the sliced corpses, Lazar had resisted the urge to study him for any longer than necessary. He couldn’t risk being discovered at the ground level, and so he’d blocked out the demon’s low, rumbling mutters despite his own curiosity.

From their current vantage point, this high up, he couldn’t make out any exact words. But then, he supposed they didn’t matter.

Curiosity is wasted on you.

The seraph closed his eyes and took in a long breath, in and out. He forced each muscle to relax, one at a time, and cleared his mind of extraneous thoughts until he felt steady and focused. In control.

When he opened his eyes again, he nodded at Ciel.

“Let’s go.”

—

Lazar’s feet moved silently across hard stone, his halberd held in a firm grip as he moved.

The two of them would begin on opposite sides of the ravine, allowing them to surround Nero as much as a being so massive could be surrounded. The seraph slowed his pace once his designated cave came into view, and he slipped carefully against the stone, pressing his back close to the wall and adjusting his head so that he could make out both the gate and the cave Ciel would appear in.

The plan was, at its core, rather simple. Nero’s magic would be their greatest obstacle in the fight, so they were going to remove it as a factor.

“Once I’ve made contact, I’ve basically got free reign with my warping, but it uses up a lot of reserves and I can only do it once. It’s a lot harder to manipulate stronger souled folks, too. Something about the soul protecting the body or whatever.”

“Do you think it would work on Nero?”

Ciel’s eyes had gleamed in the light.

“Not a lot, not enough to insta kill him, but if I use up most of my reserves I might be able to bend a few limbs.”

Lazar’s eyes focused on Nero. At ground level, his hulking size was much more apparent, and the seraph was able to get a clearer look at the demon’s silvery fur. His mane, Lazar realized, shifted colors when he moved, moving between red, blue, and green tints. Even pacing like that, there was a certain majestic grace to his movements. If Lazar hadn’t known who he was, he could’ve easily mistaken him for a beast of the third plane.

The demon had seen both of them before they’d reached Cassius’s home, and he would likely attack on sight. Their plan centered around the element of surprise. The hope was that they would be able to surround and stun him just long enough for Ciel to get close and use her flesh warping. Once he was no longer able to perform magic, Lazar would deliver the final blow.

He silently adjusted his hold on the halberd. Its blade shone in the light, every bit as smooth as it had been before falling despite the amount of abuse it had taken. It really was of the highest quality, Lazar thought, and something in his chest twisted at the memory. His fingers tensed and loosened around the cold metal. Now, they were going to use that sharpness to their advantage.

The initial ambush probably wouldn’t be enough on its own. Nero had been able to cast earth magic with a single quick motion, and both he and Ciel fully expected the fight to extend far past the first strike. Lazar’s role, then, would be to direct the demon’s attention to himself, creating an opening for Ciel to use her ability.

“—arzalur talvan gaius singrun ursa—”

Nero’s low voice reached Lazar’s ears, echoing lowly across the ravine and continuing without pause or breath.

“—padma tarquin zezzol dalgan airin—”

Names, Lazar suddenly realized. The demon was repeating a list of names to himself.

Nero turned and began pacing the other direction. Now, closer, the seraph could see the haze over those yellow eyes, not unlike the fog in Cassius’s gaze when he’d reminisced about the old Abyss. This, however, was many times thicker, all consuming in its intensity.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Movement flashed in Lazar’s peripheral vision, and he turned his head just enough to see Ciel had reached the other cave entrance. Her long hair fell messily over the mass of sharp eyes, and she waited, crouched and ready to strike.

Gold and grey met, and Lazar inhaled, steeling himself. He pushed Nero’s voice away, drowning out his words until they were nothing but a distant, incomprehensible blur.

It was time.

Lazar shifted until he was at the edge of the cave, just out of view, muscles tensed. The cold air bit at his skin. He would be the first one to make a move—the signal that would begin the fight.

The seraph waited, tracing the pattern of Nero’s pacing as he passed in front of the realm gate. He moved to change directions again, and as the demon turned, time seemed to slow down.

The moment his back was to them, Lazar charged.

His feet flew across the rough ground, the wind whistling in his ears. Nero jerked around just as he reeled his halberd back, and the seraph swung at the same time as the demon stomped a heavy foot against the ground.

The earth shook. Silver metal met hard stone, and Lazar flew backwards.

The cliff walls raced past him, a tall spire quickly approaching. Spinning around in the air, the seraph grit his teeth and slammed his halberd into the stone structure, and sparks flew as the metal carved into it. His arms ached, but he managed to somewhat slow his momentum.

The moment his feet touched the ground, a field of spikes shot up from the earth, and Lazar barely managed to jump back in time to avoid being skewered. They were fast, chasing relentlessly after the seraph as he rolled and leapt across the barren field with seemingly no end in sight.

Lazar’s eyes darted around rapidly, aware that he was being pushed closer and closer to the cliff faces. The second he was cornered, he would be crushed.

Orange light flashed in his peripheral vision, and he felt the air shift in anticipation. Lazar sucked in a breath, trying in vain to reach for that essence, but he was met with only a sharp pain in his chest.

He met eyes with Nero, and flat gold narrowed into slits. The demon snarled. His muscles tensed, and Lazar braced himself for the oncoming attack.

Before it could come, a blur of flesh slammed into the demon’s side. Nero howled in pain, spinning around to face Ciel.

The flesh eater was covered in dust and debris, having been blown back by the initial attack as well, but she was grinning widely at the other demon, eyes glimmering in the light. The skin around her shoulders contorted, and a mass of flesh hurtled at Nero, forcing him to dodge.

The spikes stopped, and Lazar didn’t waste any time. Sprinting and veering over rough, broken earth, he took advantage of the demon’s distraction and thrust the halberd into one of his hind legs.

The blade sunk into hard flesh, meeting heavy resistance. It had just managed to pierce through the thick skin when a kick smashed into Lazar’s chest.

He skidded over the ground, crashing into a spire and barely managing to keep his grip on his weapon. He felt something break, but he ignored it and heaved himself back up, Cassius’s gift a heavy weight in his pocket. As long as he could still move, he wouldn’t waste it here.

A spear of earth shot out from the cliff face, and Ciel lunged forward. Her fingers dug into the end of the stone, muscles bulging as she strained to keep it in place. Her feet slid against the ground, kicking up dirt and rubble.

Lazar rapidly took in their current position, nearly backed against the cliff wall and surrounding spires, and Nero’s, just beside a cave, before he turned and sprinted into the tunnels.

His feet pounded across the ground, navigating through without hesitation. The second he saw the light from the exit, he leapt out, swinging his halberd into the same leg that he’d injured earlier.

His aim was off, but the momentum drove the blade in deep. Dark red blood gushed from the wound, and Nero roared furiously. His leg stomped down, but the seraph was prepared for it this time.

He rolled out of the way, landing on his feet and jumping up again. His chest ached, and he could feel cuts littering his back, but he didn’t slow down. In his peripheral vision, Ciel ducked into one of the caves with the corpses to refill her reserves, and Lazar redirected his attention to Nero, muscles tensed in preparation.

The demon stomped the earth in three rapid fire movements. Orange flashed, and whips of earth circled the demon. In contrast to the previous straightforward attacks, these waved and lurched violently, and Lazar barely managed to bring his halberd up in time to block one of them from carving into him.

He was distantly aware of Nero’s mouth moving, of those yellow eyes boiling with crazed anger, but he blocked it out. He pulled at his soul again, desperately reaching for the essence, but once again he felt the strands slip just out of his grasp. His chest burned.

One of the earthen whips snapped around his arm. Lazar jerked back and slammed the halberd blade into it, slicing it off just as it began to squeeze.

He heard more than he felt bones crack. The arm hung limply at his side as the seraph rushed forward, ducking under another crackling whip of earth. He met yellow eyes head on, and he didn’t hesitate to run straight at the demon.

With deceptive speed, Nero lunged, jaws snapping.

Lazar barely managed to raise his halberd in time to stop razor sharp teeth from closing around him. His arm trembled with exertion, and he forced his injured one up as well.

Here, caught between closing jaws, he could see those eyes burning down at him, could feel the demon’s breaths. The seraph felt his arms shake, felt his muscles begin to give way and the silver halberd shaft begin to slip, but it didn’t matter. He’d successfully drawn Nero’s attention wholly to him.

In the corner of his eye, Ciel raced forward. She pressed a hand against the demon’s leg, golden eyes gleaming under the realm gate.

The moment her hand met the silver fur, the muscles twisted.

Nero’s roar of pain pierced through Lazar’s focused fog, ringing in his ears. He jerked back, barely managing to leap away in time to avoid the demon’s thrashing. He landed roughly on the ground and scrambled to push himself back up, hands still shaking around his weapon, and watched with wide eyes as the demon’s body buckled.

Blooming from that touch, skin quivered and distorted, lurching back and forth as it resisted manipulation. He heard bones snap, Nero’s limbs curling as they were wrung in harsh, sudden spasms while his flesh bubbled and popped.

Lazar had seen Ciel manipulate her own flesh before this, had seen other demons do similar things. And yet, within that push and pull of flesh and bone forcibly contorted out of place, there existed a certain violence beyond the scope of a simple blow or strike.

With a final ringing crack, Nero collapsed in a heap on the ground, the demon’s limbs splayed out in crooked, deformed heaps. His mouth was moving again, snarling and spitting curses, but Lazar didn’t process the words. The moment he saw the demon hit the ground, he snapped out of his trance. Instinct took over.

Lazar sprinted forward, tightening his hold on the halberd past the screaming of strained muscles and broken bones. He focused on Nero, on the cold metal against his fingertips.

He lunged, never moving his gaze from those yellow eyes, drawing the weapon back and preparing to throw his entire weight into the final strike.

And then, at the last second, Nero wrenched his head to the side.

Light flared, and the earth beneath them exploded.

Lazar was hurled back, crashing hard into the cliff wall. Rocks plummeted down, and he was distantly aware of Ciel landing on the opposite side of the ravine. His ears rang, a stinging pain flaring in his stomach. He moved a shaking hand over the area, and it came away coated in blood. His eyes darted down.

A spike of earth had stabbed straight through his side, pinning him to the cliff wall.

Lazar stared at the wound with a hazy, distant sort of acknowledgement. Blood pooled faster, a puddle rapidly forming beneath him, and more rocks tumbled down the cliff.

Across the ravine, Ciel rose, her steps unsteady. A new limb sprouted from her back and surged forward to meet a second spike of earth aimed straight at her. The limb was weaker, less well formed. She was running low on reserves.

On the ground, Nero jerked his head around, weaving spells crudely. His movements were significantly more limited now, but with the essence of the realm gate to draw from, what he’d lost in precision he made up for in pure, unbridled power. Those yellow eyes were blown wide, equal parts pain and rage, orange light flashing with each new wave of magic sent out.

Lazar felt himself lurch forward. His body was rapidly losing warmth, muscles quickly weakening and his vision blurring, but he didn’t move his gaze from the undulating earth, the thick air swirling around them, the bright light of the realm gate.

He sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, reaching for the faint spark of his soul. He felt the earth tremble beneath him and heard the sounds of continued battle ringing across the ravine. He imagined glimmering strings weaving and crossing the air—a rich, forest green light nearly as familiar as the wind.

A bright laugh, the shifting earth under the moonlit sky, clear eyes the same color as his magic that turned to face him.

Lazar reached for those strands, pushing and straining his soul.

And finally, he felt himself grasp them.

His soul flared, and grey eyes snapped wide open.

Strings of essence bloomed across his sight.