What did they see?

As Qing plodded up the slope, one foot in front of the other, he watched Aria scramble down towards them after peeking above the ridge, Jenny following behind.

As he held up a hand for the party to stop, the newly minted mayor of Shadowgrove stumbled to a halt before him, doubled over, gasping for breath, with one hand pressed against her stomach.

“Tell me.”

She straightened, eyes wide and unfocused. “It’s... it’s...” She swallowed hard, her jaw clenching. “Qing, I’ve never seen anything like it, not even in my worst fiver nightmare.”

A murmur rippled through the group, and Qing turned, glaring. “Quiet. Let her speak.”

“There’s a tower,” she continued. “But it’s not... it’s not right. It’s hanging from the sky, Qing. Suspended from the clouds like a massive obsidian pine growing from the cloud.”

Ghida stepped forward, her brow furrowed. “Hanging from the sky? How is that possible?”

Aria’s laugh rang hollow. “Possible? How I am I supposed to know. Nothing about this place is possible.” Her eyes locked onto Qing’s. “The central spire...it’s massive. Tall as a mountain and it looks black as night, except the parts pulsing with a red light. It’s like... like it has a heartbeat.”

“A building with a heartbeat?” Rowan said. “You’re not making sense, girl.”

“I know!” Aria said, her fists clenching at her sides. “But that’s what I saw. And there’s more. Around the main tower, there are smaller spires, all pointing down. They form this jagged... crown, I guess. But inverted.”

Jenny stepped up behind her, axes at the ready. “She’s right. It ain’t natural. The thing’s covered in huge, glowing openings, like eyes. Felt like they were watching me.”

“Damn it all to…well, here,” Cedric said, ramming his staff into the ground. “If we have been spotted already… then time is running out.” The wizard stalked past the two women, mumbling to himself. “This is what I get for bringing amateurs.”

Jenny shook her head at the wizard, before looking back at Qing, her lips pressed into a thin line. “At the top - or bottom, I guess - where it meets the clouds, there’s this swirling storm of energy. Lightning, but... wrong. It shoots upwards, into the wasteland around the tower.”

“Rowan, Knut, follow me. The rest of you, wait here,” Qing said, and walked up with Cedric.

And as Qing took in the hellish vista before them, he knew no warning could have truly prepared them for this.

Qing crested the ridge and his breath caught in his throat, his eyes immediately drawn to the impossible structure dominating the horizon.

As Aria said, a massive, black tower hung upside down from the roiling clouds above, not quite touching the ground. It defied all logic or reason, and it made his brain itch just looking at it. Its massive bulk seemed to stretch endlessly upward, like a New York skyscraper, disappearing into the storm-wracked sky. The central spire, a colossal pillar of what looked like polished obsidian, pulsed with an inner fire that sent waves of sickly red light rippling down its length. Each pulse felt like a tap on Qing’s chest, resonating with the beating of his own heart.

Surrounding the nightmarish core, a forest of smaller towers and spires created a jagged silhouette against the ash-choked sky. They all pointed downward, like the fangs of some monstrous beast preparing to devour the hellish landscape below.

Paths of different colours converged on the tower from different sides.

At intervals along the tower’s inverted height, massive, eye-like openings glowed with an infernal light. One of these “eyes” seemed to swivel in its socket.

“Idiots,” Cedric said and rushed forward, slamming his staff into the ground. Magic welled up around them, and while the eye seemed to look directly at them, it simply slid by, leaving a chill to run down Qing’s spine and he fought the urge to duck behind the ridge.

Qing’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. The pain helped ground him, keeping the overwhelm at bay. He had faced countless dangers, battled foes that would make the old him faint in fear. But this... this was something else entirely.

He turned to Rowan and Knut. His own awe was mirrored in their faces.

“Well, boys” Qing said and cleared his voice, “I think we’ve found our destination.”

***

They retreated down below the ridge, relief spreading through Qing as they got out of the towers line of sight.

“What was that?” Qing asked.

“Something bad,” Cedric said. “Evil. Pure evil.” He stroked his chin. “You were right about one thing. That is our final destination, and where Rufus must bring Cleo.”

“Have we made it in time?” Ghida asked.

“You think we would still be alive if the devil ran free?” Cedric asked, and the princess’ brow furrowed at his tone.

Qing put a hand on her arm. “What did you do with your magic, and are those the eyes of the devil?”

For a moment, Cedric looked as if he wouldn’t answer, until Qing said, “No secrets, now. We need to know what we are up against. How did you know to shield us?”

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“Come on, you old bastard,” Rowan said, stepping towards the wizard, Gorzan’s Savage Slicer gripped tightly. “This ain’t the time nor place to hold back. We’ve followed Qing into hell. Now it’s time you do your part and tell us what you know.”

“Fine, I will tell you what you need to know. Now—”

“No,” Aria said, shaking her head. “If we are to survive here, it’ll be as a team.”

“Yes,” Ghida said. “Tell us everything.”

Cedric threw his hands up. “You want me to pour an ocean into a cup? This is a waste of our time. Just do as I tell you, and—”

Qing’s jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat. Something in his manner must have shown Cedric just how frustrated he was getting, because the wizard jumped back and levelled his staff, activating Magic Shield.

For a moment, the two stared at each other, a deep anger boiled deep within Qing.

Then Cedric broke the gaze and looked at the team gathered around him. “Fine!” he finally said. “But there is too much I do not know.” He started pacing back and forth, feather-dust floating into the air. “Hell has a unique atmosphere. It will siphon our energy, slow, but steadily. There is also a power that lets demons know when living humans enter hell, but I do not know how they do so. One thing left to me by the Kine Ashguard is both a spell and a ritual to hide us from the view of the demons, and for holding back the energy siphoning atmosphere.”

“Then we are doomed?” Ruqiya asked. “The armies of demons are on the way?”

“No. I have been masking us since we entered.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Knut asked, his arm around the queen’s waist.

“I do not tell you everything I do, because to do so would be tedious, dangerous, and a waste of time. My entire life I have fought against the devil, and now I am here, in his realm, working to stop an apocalypse. And despite all my preparations, I did not know what awaited us. It has been five hundred years since the last of my order returned from hell. Barely any information remains. But, after having spent nearly two hours in this magical realm where nearly none has returned from, I have found out three things. The first is the atmosphere, and how it drains our energy. It is slow, and you might not yet feel it as more than fatigue. Like having slept poorly for several days, as I know you have. My predecessors mentioned this, and I have come prepared. The second is the magical senses that crawl across this land. You cannot see it with your uneducated and unopened eyes. But to me…imagine slug-like snakes made from fog, crawling across the land. When you touch them, they jerk and latch on to you, swiftly expanding.”

The group looked around, eyes wide, gathering together tightly.

Cedric waved his staff. “You are safe. I have made it so, disintegrating the foggy slugs that latch on.”

“How will that help?” Jenny asked. “When a scout fails to return, it tells you where the enemy is.”

“There are thousands around us. A few disappearing is nothing compared to them reporting us.”

“But—”

“Trust me, my dear. I know more of war than you have forgotten. Now, stay quiet and listen. We are running out of time.”

Jenny glared at him, but gave a curt nod. “Fine. What is the third?”

“You might have surmised it from our surroundings, but these are the Fields of Fallen Grace.” He paused, as if waiting for a response, but the group just looked at one another, shaking their heads, the name unknown to them all.

“Sounds ominous?” Knut said. “Or maybe it used to be the home of a black duck the size of a mountain, named Grace?”

“Idiot,” Cedric said, and sighed. “I forget myself, thinking we are all adults, but no. Your knowledge is akin to that of uneducated children. The Fields of Fallen Grace is where my order, Cleo’s ancestor, imprisoned the devil. Across that ridge,” Cedric pointed a thumb across his shoulder, “lies the Darksoul Tower. Inside awaits the Devil. The Devil. Once an angel, expelled from the heavens by God. The one who has raped, pillaged, and burned Elrydisan to the ground countless times. The one whose bloodthirst cannot be sated. Who sat on a throne of skulls for millennia.”

The group went silent.

“If you follow my order, we may yet save the world,” Cedric said. “My magic will hide us, buying us time to set up an ambush. Once Rufus arrives, we strike like a sky snake, taking Cleo from his grasp, and retreat through the portal.”

“The portal leading to three gigantic monsters, each one strong enough to slaughter us all?” Morgana asked.

Cedric took a deep and slow breath.

He is struggling to contain himself. His nemesis is within reach, and I am sure he yearns for the fight. To strike the devil down once and for all and end the threat. To write his name into the history books.

But what Cedric said surprised him.

“You need to focus on the real challenge. Those monsters? I could strike them all down while drinking a pint of Shadowgrove Stout, all without spilling a drop. But this?” He pointed at the ridge, and the tower waiting behind. “The power there is on a scale you cannot imagine. You have as much chance of defeating me as I do it.” The wizard swallowed. “I am afraid, Morgana. That we are too little, too late. That I am too weak.”

Again, the group went completely still.

“But you said we can yet save the world,” Ghida said, and Qing felt a warmth spread through him at her positivity.

Cedric smiled. “Yes, my dear. Through luck and preparation we have arrived in time to—”

A sudden change in the air cut him off, and he dropped to a crouch, staff out, aimed like a gun, searching through for the source.

Qing and the group looked around as well, as the oppressive atmosphere lifted, replaced by a growing charge of energy. The hairs on the back of Qing’s neck stood up. It felt pleasant, which he was pretty sure was the wrong thing to feel in Hell, so he equipped the glaive and triggered Magic Shield.

Qing quickly ordered the group into a defensive formation. “Whatever’s coming, be ready for anything.”

Even Jenny, with her seemingly zero ability within magic seemed to feel it, as she whispered, “Something’s coming. Something big.”

Ghida’s eyes widened, and she pointed to the ground. “Look at the feathers!”

The blackened feathers covering the ground stirred, as if disturbed by an unseen wind. They swirled in intricate patterns and formed shapes that seemed almost familiar before dissolving back into chaos.

“What could do this?” Ruqiya said. She stood relaxed, with a big smile on her face.

A hush fell over them. The charge in the air building to an almost unbearable intensity. Qing’s heart pounded in his chest, every nerve on edge as he scanned their surroundings for any sign of threat.

Suddenly, a brilliant light lit up the plane, and they all looked up towards the clouds. A light descended, so bright it was painful to look at. Qing shielded his eyes, squinting against the radiance. Through the spots dancing in his vision, he could barely make out a silhouette.

Are those…

“My god,” Jenny said, and dropped to her knees as the figure descended, great silvery-white wings spread wide. The sailors and most of the others followed suit, black feathers puffing up around their knees. Only Cedric and Rowan remained standing with Qing.

Hope blossomed in Qing’s chest, and he smiled. The heavens had seen their struggle and come to lend a hand.

As the angel neared, he saw the colours of its wings were the same as the strand he’d seen in Knut’s belt which had been incinerated by King Sharyar.

What was the name? Seraphinia. That was it.

Calm radiated down Qing’s neck in rhythm with the beat of its wings. It had to be how soldiers felt when a black hawk helicopter loaded with special forces came flying in.

The divine halted before them, naked feet hovering a handwidth above the ground.

Its androgenous beauty stood at a stark contrast to the hellish landscape, and looked as out of place as a miss universe contestant in trench warfare. Clad in flowing robes, its gender, if it had one, was impossibly to determine.

Qing smiled and stepped forward, placing himself between the angel and his companions.

“Hi,” he said. “Erh…my name is Qing?”

The angel’s gaze fixed upon him, and when it spoke, its voice resonated with a power that shook him to his core. “Qing, Champion of Two Worlds. I have come to make you an offer.”