Beyond Gate 2 and the intersecting stairs between Islands of Greatness and Gate 3, time kept brewing its actions. Razmund bled and dried his blood numerous times in his attempt to get moving, but the way of the Ending Isles was rough, if not incredibly dangerous to him.
He still had numerous foes ahead in the challenge of the Ending Isles. There was a very high power ceiling here, close to cracking his progress and halting him completely, but he kept at it for as long as he could. He bid for time, power, and hopes of no killings. He was fighting by forcing the others to submit to his claymore first. If they won't, or won't take it well, killing them was next.
And it worked well when he was forceful in his strategies, or if the enemy wasn't insane.
He would hate the knowledge that his target escaped this Gate, but Destiny Dice can give him this idea as well. For some reason, it didn't do much else but kept pointing to the choices of the bridges that Murai had chosen, giving Razmund the fateful way ahead.
Either it was Dice's decision, or Fate's.
Razmund could question it, considering he fought and wanted to catch his target more than do these battles. Someone could change it in a heartbeat. Lint could give him some idea; Mindarch was the same. One preferred being watchful, while the other preferred seeing Razmund more miserable. That damned Blessed deserved it, but there were much more important issues even beyond him.
Mindarch knew it, so he kept Lint doing what he should, and Razmund surprisingly kept his killing in mind. Though, it was more of an inability. Since he fought with Luno, Sword Intent was constantly on his mind. He couldn't even fathom how to start it, train it, and handle its ways. At least the Endling Isles were keeping him sharp, so his Sword Intent was showing its fangs.
Was it because of how drained he was back against Luno? He spent all he had onto the 3rd Dance, unleashing not it, but... a strike that was it, but something else. That was a strike that followed the cut of Sword Intent. It ate his heart he couldn't re-create it again, but once the feelings of the Sword Intent paid the first visit, no swordsman would forget it.
Foes did help with that a little bit, even though some were on the verge of Laws, or already were beyond that point. At least few were ever close to Luno in strength. Undead and various monstrosities from the Hell Haven came at him in the Ending Isles, cutting him, hoping to eat him and crash him apart, but Razmund bit back.
Thankfully so.
His line of killings was at the balancing point of drowning, which posed a question if Midnarch should give him an easier target to kill, or a bigger threat. Spending talents, resources, and tough beasts in this place wasn't the wrong approach for Mindarch. He had all the freedom to charge and change his decisions, so every Challenger was subject to his device.
He was essentially the God of this place. So far, he wanted to see what Razmund could take but his limiting killing ceiling was cracking to no finishing line. Razmund was extremely stubborn and tough to deal with, especially when his killings and his style were changing. He was growing, which Mindarch didn't like or took for something nice.
There were many beings in the Hell Haven and this temple that knew of these current events. All pivotal and crazy Surface Challengers were kind of rare occurrence in recent decades. It was like watching a rare show.
All because of Razmund, things became complicated, because Mindarch could no longer take his rules for what he wanted.
Overlords were watching, followed by fewer Gods. And something he knew and feared was changing. Something nasty brewed on the Surface, right beyond the dark stretching corridors that went to the Death Valley.
The dormant state of the whole valley ended up returning to its former chaotic appearance days ago. Judge descended above the land and Levandis' domain, clearing the storm and forcing a cheeky Sun away. There was even a dog in the name of Centralis, but Mindarch didn't mind him all that much.
By no means, a little over 4 days passed since Murai entered Levandis Temple.
It was slightly below that time since Ceila, the 2nd Sun of Vermillion Church, stepped in and met her match in Uzbek, the Helper that cleverly moved behind Razmund's case down below. He depicted the Centralis Kingdom's interest, playing a watchful dog and waiting for Murai if he would give up. He hoped for that or hoped for Razmund to force it that way.
It was as peculiar a case as problematic.
Almost as peculiar because Uzebk didn't expect the change and the current happening because something made an unexpected comeback. A few days passed, yet here it went again. Uzbek was out of his mind, out of his wits. Gone. Feeling the sand, he figured that his head and chances turned upside down.
Why, one might wonder? Not only did Ceila come back to Death Valley and him, but she tossed all the blocks away. By the degree of her Lady, she wasn't alone in her tries or hopes.
It was time to be ruthless and challenge the authority of this temple and many other things. Vermillion decided and bore her results and works like a charm. It was time to change some things with this ridiculous situation that brewed around the Battleworld for many days.
That was a small amount of time in the general accord to Gods, but chances can come and go in a heartbeat. She didn't want to lose her chance with Murai, so being ruthless was no choice but a given fact.
Mindarch took it with his interest and warned Levandis about it not that long ago. It was weird, because not only did Ceila come back, but it was around the time when Amelius made his move as well, turning Levandis's attention away.
Ceila came and stormed their Welcoming Gate with fervent insanity, unusual demeanor, and power.
Mindarch's choices ended up useless, albeit interesting. Vermillion decided to wait it out, similar to what she did with Amelius. It ended up being fortuitous, so she wondered what Ceila or Vermillion wanted.
Standing in the stormy weather of Death Valley, Ceila wore a divine-looking armor that showed not a bit of her skin, apart from her head. Her helmet was gone, revealing her hair that flew behind her back. Regal and with a face that seemed to lose its lustering smile, she appeared as if she aged a year, or went to war. That wasn't a lot, but something about her face looked weird and unlike her usual vigor.
She wasn't handling a spear, but a long thin sword and luscious bright aura surrounded her. Returning came with the expected problems. It wasn't a problem for her, however. Uzbek took this worse out of anything in this situation, desert, and time.
The Judge no longer came to his rescue. It wasn't possible for some reason, or the situation changed the moment Ceila forced something behind the scenes. Or Vermillion did?
Uzbek couldn't question the origin of all troubles when his position was kind of sensitive. Behind him was the temple that shouldn't like his position or origin in the slightest, while onwards was Ceila who turned into a nightmare.
Was this a Breach of what he thought was possible by God's touch? Half sunken to the sandy dunes, all the rest of his companions were scattered or in pieces. He was in one piece, fortunately, plunged into the sand in defeat as he bled and sank in spirit.
“Learned your lesson?” Ceila spoke words with almost no emotions hidden behind them. She was serious and had a little hoarser voice than expected. Like her current face, it poised as authority that stemmed from the sudden change that her Lady granted her.
Or did she force it? That was a possibility that Uzbek considered, especially when his status and hers collided in an interesting storm that went out of his stakes. Something moved and changed that the Centralis Kingdom hadn't expected.
A storm that he thought would pass was his mission, yet it came back stronger than ever in more forms and faces. He didn't want to change the current circumstances. He wanted to flee; he didn't want to get out of the sand to try the impossible. Losing his ways from before and even now, he tried and failed, so that was it. It was time to overlook something else.
Centralis can afford it, but his student might not. Forcing his upper halve out of the sand, Uzbek was still holding onto his blades and felt his body ache. Above him was Ceila, looking tall, majestic, and like a little sun that dominated over his sunken spirit. He felt her changed aura with fear.
At least he wasn't bleeding in half, but cuts and bleeding holes were all over his body. Bruises on his face either came at the cost of feeling her chest or slaps. Either worked or not, he knew.
Charred uniform revealed much more sadness in his eyes than butchered Falconers around this flat piece of Death Valley. Soldiers died every day. He thought they lasted more than they deserved, similar to himself.
“Well, hello.” Uzbek moaned and glanced at Ceila who stood like a lofty divine mountain over him, yet she was still a few meters away. It wasn't because she was that tall. It was just a feeling he got out of her current position and power that he couldn't guess.
Something changed about her or her situation. Something that Centralis didn't anticipate, which meant a lot of potential problems for not only them. They were just tools, after all. It wasn't as if Tier A power could influence a lot of things when Hell Haven held many Gods and even more mortal powerhouses.
Levandis was the leader of this Somalis Hell, followed by her narrow pantheon.
It was by no means a good idea to anger such a massive place with few mortal plays, yet they did it.
There was no coming back from that.
They got help from someone whose Uzbek couldn't fathom, nor anyone from the Centralis Kingdom could. And now, other parties were turning their interest over the plot and desires of Sky Gods. They watched and moved the things within their reaches, but by no means were they encompassing Entities.
Mortals very often didn't move according to their wishes. It was to be expected when hopes and powers were in their way.
That was where Blessed came into even further questions and desires, poising as dreadful consequences of a time when some souls returned from the Afterlife. Plans always changed afterward, but Blessed were like a dreadful reality and curses that troubled many Gods.
Mortals or not, this was a problem Uzbek couldn't resolve on his own, even if he could try to do something.
Ceila was no longer who she was, or she was who she always was, but changed differently? Either way, she looked the same as before. Her vigor and aura remained familiar and tall, but it was a bit more savage, heated, and still divine like light could be.
Brutal. That was the word Uzbek would describe her, which was far from the previous meeting. Back then, Ceila was questioning his ways, his kingdom, his way of Fate and acts. This time, she didn't ask a thing. She was as curved as the sword in her hand or straight as the spear latched to her back.
And behind her, standing and waiting for her orders, 3 figures hid behind her aura. Uzbek saw them more than enough and knew their importance. They didn't touch him, nor fight him. He didn't like they were there, and they were the best answers to this whole ordeal and change.
They were the Divine Paladins. Not from this world, he knew, but from above, bearing the crests of Vermillion Divine Kingdom. Those looked like bird symbols with stretched wings and a hundred swordtails over their chest armor, showing their status that was of a different kind than what most mortal powers could bear.
That didn't mean they were godly beings. They were mere tools and subjects of higher interest, descending in a limited capacity to do a mission that a God desired. It went alongside the sensitivity of many Churches since this sort of power from the Divine Kingdoms was a hard reality check for the Surface.
They should act as fine swords for Ceila and Vermillion's orders, but for the others, they were insensible guests who shouldn't be here.
A whole lot of things were about to change with their mere presence. Not because of their existence, of course. They were individuals that often came with Divine Wars in sight, right as Gods would descend in rare instances to the mortal worlds and wars. Sending their divine armies down was much more upfront, albeit often filled with questions for other Gods and mortal powers. It posed as a boundary or set example that things were no longer simple.
Here in the Battleworld, Uzbek knew of Divine Paladins and their status more than enough. They were often natives of the Divine Kingdoms or ascended individuals from the Surface or Depths who wanted to serve their God. In return, they would get immense blessings, benefits, and help.
The ones he was looking at should be near, or already Extremes, but one was never sure of their strength without seeing their acts because powers born from the Divine Kingdoms weren't simple.
And there were just 3 of them. That was no army that could crash Tier A power for snacks, let alone was it something crazy that should poise as a hindrance to any Hell.
Uzbek shook the sand out of his hair. It didn't help much with his appearance. Even his uniform was in tatters, so his heart bled because of it. “You are overdoing this way too far. Crossed the line almost. Should've slapped me well over the horizon, but it seems you wanna know something yourself. Might be helpful to not trash me so much. I can speak better if I have my mouth open, or blood where it belongs.”
“Sure you do. I do too. Sure as the Sky over our heads and eyes watching everything.” Ceila said coldly and walked forward. Paladinds followed her from behind. Not one bit of their skin was visible. Robust and thick plates of the armor protected their bodies, while helmets had no openings for the mouth. A thin opening line was there for better physical sight.
“I am all ears as eyes wide open.” Uzbek smiled at her. “So? Do you think this situation is familiar? It does resemble something.”
“I should've cut into the neck, it seems. Help with this tone of yours.”
“That would hurt.”
“Would do the job just enough.” Ceila pointed her sword at him. “Demands give answers. What is Centralis thinking?”
“Thinking? Centralis? Can't you be more specific? We are all a bit strange in thinking.” Uzbek lightly tapped the tip of her sword away from his face. “We all think all day long. All sort of things comes at us, you see. Thinking is dreaming, as some folks in the Endless Tower often tell. Old but validating.”
“Don't play with me.”
“You don't look fun for any plays. Not anymore, huh... Weird. Your eyes.” Uzbek frowned and had no itch for some poor ideas or change of plans. He utterly gave up. “Do you think you should keep at this? I said it before. It is all about changes in this world. Centralis has hopes. You and me are the same. Gods are the same too, even if they are so lofty and insane. Same as us, huh? See? Nothing is that different over there, below or up. Encounter is that change, so what is this situation to you? A hope? Unless you move like a tool, this seems to befit...”
“Shut up.” Ceila swayed her arm, bent her hip, and kicked Uzbek straight to his face. He felt the metal boot and blood flew out of his nose and mouth. He flew hundreds of meters away, tumbling through sand and feeling like shit.
He was gone out of the picture, crashing into the Levandis Temple itself, where many figures were already standing. Thar did, followed by lurking shadows of many other undead. The Undead Army was already there, creating a neat picture for Ceila and her Paladins.
Such an Undead Army would work best against a Paladin Legion that was perfect for the chaos and undead aspects. Ceila could still force nature and bend the rules, prove herself and her power, and reach the route she wanted. Vermillion guaranteed that even if Thar had little idea about it. It was a wonder what the Hell would take this situation and change like, as this was once again, an invasion!
Smashing her feet to the ground and reverting to normal posture, Ceila turned to the temple, and the whole army a hundred meters away. They waited for a good while, right after she got rid of Uzbek's dog-awaiting status. He took the hit to the walls of the temple with a smile and looked forward to the next show.
Thar sat on his steed, overlooking the whole storming plain before Levandis Temple. He was quite notable, thanks to the height of his horse, bones, and notable black aura around him. Surrounded by his kin of numerous races, bones were bones, but there were some living beings amongst them. They were still his army that Levandis cherished and gave to him as part of his blessing, curse, and gift.
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Though, none of them were her familiars, creatures of influence, or creations. Most of them existed just because of this temple itself, giving everything some touch when Chaos was a very potent indicator of power. Thar wasn't following that ideal. He was an undead for a long time not from that principle, but a choice. He had forgotten what was before the bones since guarding this place was his current mission.
A mission that seemed to take a plunge into the depths of insanity, because he felt the Depths like never before.
Ceila turned to his position, followed by Paladins who seemed like golems in their movement and notions. Every inch of their body was covered by armor, while every act was clean, minimalistic, and smooth. They were almost like a machine. Some of them were ready for combat by brandishing shields, swords, or spears.
But it won't be their turn until Ceila deem it worth it.
“What is going on over here?” Thar demanded answers. His voice went far, his aura flared up as the dark mana of his Laws seeped out of his bones like never before. It was like his shadows, touching and moving within his bones and going upwards.
“Was never afraid of bones. Those are for dogs.” Ceila almost smiled as she said it, but her face was still dull and tight.
“Should I take you for a threat? Is this an Invasion, or the beginning of a War that your Church wants? Trust me on this, your punny force won't give our Hell any trouble. This temple is...”
Ceila halted him by pointing her palm ahead. “No need. The ones beyond you will take care of our problems by taking an interest in those above or below. For now, disappear like a mole to the ground.”
It wasn't as if Thar liked to hear that, but he knew that something wrong was going on. He wasn't sure of the whole idea, but he knew the presence of those hiding at the entrance, or those watchful in different ways.
For now, from the shadows of the entrance, a slender figure stepped forth. Long-legged, bare, and smooth like the finest light marble, a curve in hips and chest swayed as a woman entered the bright part of the entrance.
It wasn't Levandis, fortunately. It was Villan, notable by the pairs of horns at each side of her scalp and long strands of purple hair that went down her cheeks, back, and shoulders. Wearing a rather sporadic and tight uniform consisting of strips and shiny pieces of leather and armor pieces, she almost looked like a succubus.
Some would definitely think of them when looking at her, but she wasn't one. Whitish purple skin wasn't rare either, and by all rights, she looked more human than one with a demonic origin that was closing on succusses. But she had no wings, no tail, nor the charm that followed the succubus race. She was a demon of some sort, but the kind that had a very rich bloodline from some ancient demons and human races.
“Overlord.” Thar turned to her and made a customary bow with his upper body. His aura quivered and calmed, yet remained as if a reminder that he was ready to fight for his mission.
“Thar,” Villan said as she flinched her slender fingers before her face, forcing her hair to fall behind her back. Her face was young, smooth, and... annoyed.
She looked like she stepped on shit. Dealigns with Murai did that to her, but not only that, of course. The current situation added to her annoyance because Levandis urged her workings and fix something that was... not that easy. Perhaps it was her punishment for doing something she shouldn't have done.
Who cared for it though? It wasn't as if enticing Murai with words came with some disadvantages for anyone. If he refused, he refused. If he agreed... that would mean something else. She didn't know what would have happened next if he had done that.
And she wasn't looking at it from a rational perspective, because he was something else than what was before her. It stunk of problems that she knew the moment they happened. The reasons were still unknown, but the problems that Ceila depicted weren't that small. Considering the happenings in Gate 2 and 4, and soon the one between them, the plot was turning in a new direction.
She bet Manager Kil didn't like this change in the slightest, but not as if it was her problem or a bliss.
“Look who showed up.” She glared at Ceila from a far distance. Through this time, her voice and body remained spotless of any aura. “Get rid of them.”
Thar didn't like this order one bit, but if it was his task, he allowed the Gods to decide.
The clutter of armor spread and bones echoed in thuds and cries. The entire Undead Army made its move by Thar's authority and degree. As their leader, there weren't only bones in here, but not as if it mattered. As individuals, they weren't almighty. As a whole, they were a power that could shake many wars.
Thar underestimated the situation far too much.
In a flash, Ceila smiled for real. Without words, Paladins made their move by activating runes in their armor and unleashing weapons of mass destruction that were hiding in their weapons. They activated something there, which exploded in the light aura and mana, crushing a tide of energy into the Undead Army. Bones cracked and what should have remained death, became even deader.
Paladins pounced at the army in a second, brandishing their weapons and cleaving them aside. Bones crashed, Soul Flames dimmed by their mere light, but a swipe of their weapons extinguished them completely.
Ceila hadn't made her move. She looked at the Paladins and how half of the army became part of Death Valley or incinerated mist or dust. That happened in less than a minute.
Until Thar made his move after glaring at Ceila as his army halved. He left his steed, jumping at the closest Paladin, and unleashing a massive hammer out of nowhere.
Slamming it against the armor, storm across the desert and the ground shook, yet Paladin stood still as danger arrived. It held a densely knitted round shield, and even if the desert almost ate his legs, armor protected them.
Darkness spread and Thar contracted his anger when the Paladin flashed his hand and summoned a mountain-like shield next. Thar backed away, dodging as this shield slammed from above. Then, his hammer and shield collided, shaking the sand and their bodies. Nobody won, but their surroundings became full-on craters that removed a lot of sand, revealing countless bones in the layers below.
That became personal.
Thar didn't like how this started.
Without warning, the power of the huge hammer quadruplet, and the air became thicker. Paladin wavered and another swing of Thar's hammer crashed the large shield aside. Thar turned, pirouetting and hitting the Paladin next. He took it head-on, smashing the legs down to the ground. His armor survived and didn't even crack. The large hammer rested on the armor.
Thar wasn't happy about this exchange because he underestimated them. These Paladins weren't fools. Their equipment was far too crazy, and they weren't alone. Another Paladin was behind him, handling a spear that protruded out of Thar's midsection, missing his core. As an undead, he had no flesh or heart, but his Mana Core was still inside of him, visibly moving around his bones, and glistering in dark delight that empowered his bones.
It was hiding under the tattered cloak most of the time, so the spear missed its target.
And the Paladin on the ground was fine. He just lost his footing for a moment. Thar had no doubts his hammer wouldn't take his life unless he would go all out.
“So be it.”
Thar's aura thickened and he grasped the sprear in his chest. Trying to crack it was futile, but taking it wasn't.
Alas, Ceila was right there on the spot, tall, and aimed her palm at him. “Wanna do this the wrong way? The old way?”
Thar gripped his teeth until his army came to the rescue. He swung his hammer aside to build up momentum and dark thick mana around the hammer and his bones. There were numerous powerful beasts and members of undead and many demonic clans, capable of influencing Extreme-level fights.
Too bad. Too late. Ceila and the last Paladin, bearing a large lance bigger than his body, made their move.
Paladin swung the lance and sand and undead moved away. Wind or this simple move was wide and tall, aiming at legs. Ceila let the flickering flaming light out of her palm and made her move next. She looked at Thar, whose hammer was ready, and swung at her side. Ceila's palm grasped the light, before exploding and punching the explosion, blinding the surroundings next. Thar's vision blanked and his swing hit nobody.
Then, he felt immense strength slamming to his chest. It was just a palm, yet it felt like a mountain. Giving his hammer a single hand was foolish. By now, he forced the spear away but it happened too late. He felt heat and potent energy slam every piece of his bones. It was divine. He lost his footing almost straight away and his darkness lost against this palm strike, washed and weakened by the light.
When his Soul Flames reclaimed their clarity, the undead army was no more. Looming over him were all 3 Paladins and Ceila, who had the same stern face.
“What now?” She asked Villan who desired something else, but this was unexpected and fast. These Paladins were better than usual ones. They must be expensive to maintain, grow, nurture, and train. Their powers and ideas held incredible fighting power and reputations. All Hells knew it, thanks to the power of Wars, history, and clashes between the Sky and the Depths.
“Unexpected. What do you want here? Do you think this is a place for quarters of this caliber? Is this Vermillion's wish, idea, or plot that she seeks?” Villan said, hinting that she knew much more than she let out.
“Let me inside, and I won't make any trouble to any other forces, undead, or things hiding inside, or around. I know many things that could hurt this Hell.”
Villan chuckled as if she heard a poor joke. “Enter in? As what? Challenger? Groub? Hell Party?”
“Nothing in particular. Nothing important. Getting in is a good start. Enough of a start, frankly.”
Villan didn't like how she sounded. She wasn't arrogant, but confident. She reminded her of those that were hard to read.
“Who? You and your Paladins? Who do you think we are, or what is the place below, or behind me? What do you think... goes there and is there within? HELL?! CHAOS! Levandis won't bear the results of this Invasion!” She shouted and bits of her aura showed. It trembled the air and winced the undead around the whole plain as if they wanted to move again.
The majority of them were gone beyond repair and death. At least Thar was in one piece. His Undying Physique can take worse beatings than a slap from Ceila and her... somewhat divine-influenced powers.
Ceila took her voice for nothing harmful. “Should I demand a barter or a demand? You decide.”
“HUH!?” Villan contorted her face and arms. She got almost as angry as her time with Murai. “Didn't hear me before?”
“Are your ears for a show like your... everything?” Ceila taunted her.
Villan laughed and went with the flow. “Fine. What would you offer against our rules, current sides, circumstances, and ideas? Just so you know, Mindarch is around, watching and sending it down. Don't get any wrong ideas. One nasty step and Overlords will crash your entire church before your punny force would do a thing. Do you think that Vermillion is something against our Hell? Think twice before dying.” Villan doubted her idea. “Do you think this is a situation that deserves this assessment? Lady Levandis bears witness to this event.”
“Oh, not only her.” Ceila reckoned. “Not only that, but many are interested in what is about to happen, what is happening, and what shan't happen. So... if she listens, why can't she bend a knee? I don't think it is against her benefits to take my offerings.”
[Wrong.] A powerful female voice, guided by Mindarch, spread in the proximity of the temple's entrance.
“Oh, look who showed up?” Ceila smiled again, but so little, it was almost unnoticeable.
[I don't want any further troublemakers in my temple!] Levandis argued, sounding strong and annoyed.
It was nothing surprising, but Villan was shocked and felt some fear. She didn't go to her knees at least.
“Is that so? I thought you like and prefer it like your bones.” Ceila said calmly.
[Don't try this before my backyard, tool of Vermillion! She has no authority over what I do. She has no power here to demand entrance to my temple. It is ridiculous.]
“Yet your Will is here because of her,” Ceila said coldly, pointing to Villain something that Levandis didn't take that well. She shut up, thinking of what to do. “Anyhow...” Ceila continued because this was a problem that she expected to occur. And since Levandis started to listen, she should finish the job since the words worked on Gods and fools alike. “Wanna hear of the Encounter and everything that happened? Was there myself when and where it started. Knowledge is power, right? What occurs in your place isn't one bit worse or clear. I need to go in.”
[That... You are here for that? My place my rules, tool. What is it that is in for you? I could hunt and squeeze you dry like nothing else.]
Ceila sighed. “I proclaim to be a Helper for the Encounter. Murai's side.” She pledged. It didn't work at the usual terms. One needed affirmation of the proper side while being close to them as well.
[That side, uh? Interesting claim.] Levandis knew a lot of things herself, but the direct line of information was always better. As Ruler of her own Hell, she knew and held authority over a vast amount of worldly interest. Will of the Battleworld was part of what balance did, powers held, and what people were always about.
And she didn't need it per se. She had Mindarch for that, while Murai could be cooperative.
“Let me in. Offers and voice can then spread all yours and my Lady wants.”
[Who is speaking? You or what lies inside of you?]
“Doesn't matter.”
[It certainly doesn't. You have my blessing, but not Mindarch or anyone else. My place has its rules. Take them to your head or die trying. I wouldn't mind having your treasure or those armors your tools are wearing. They are coming, right?]
“Yes, unless you want to be difficult.”
Then, Levandis laughed, and be it Thar on the ground or Villan, they both shuddered in fear.
[This is hilarious! Difficult? Calling and telling that here... I forgot how Vermillion does her things and biddings. That old fox, she thinks she can do this to me in this way? Touch the untouchable and take this situation as if I am not involved. NO! This doesn't work like that.]
“Then my Lady has a message for you. As a last resort for your guidance.”
[A message? Last resort? No matter what you say, we...]
“Sector 11, Timezone X23. Outer Teria Nebula. Epoch 2.” Ceila whispered and be it space or the surroundings, only she listened to her voice. Levandis heard it as well. Whatever that meant, she turned to silence once more, before speaking in surprising and hidden shock.
[How does she know that?]
“It implies something, doesn't it? Resources, or the past.” Ceila teased her a little. Her Paladins stood beside her, unchanging as if this didn't matter to them.
[She wants to make things ugly? Killing you won't change a thing for me, but for her?]
“It would do many things. True. We wouldn't mind cooperating or helping you by the way. It seems the Surface has interfered with your business for a long time. This could be a clever cooperation.”
Levandis knew that, but empty threads weren't her forte. She was much more ruthless for that, but talking was all about this time.
[Hmph! So an Encounter is in her eyes? Be it your End. Villan, get things sorted out for them. I will bear this cost and give Kil his new tasks, while this little party takes their steps with care, or they might not take this cooperation for nothing but a dreadful consequence. Mindarch is watching. I will too.] Levandis demanded, and the voice transport from Hell Haven through Mindarch bore its ending results.
Ceila suceeded.
This was just the start of the true ordeal because she wasn't thinking that Levandus would let them in. By use of force, getting inside with her Paladins was a possibility if anger and limits broke. It was doubtful. Finding some line of reasons between the words was much more likely to work. Unleashing wrath around the entrance was possible, or all over the place. From then on, it would be back-and-forth blackmailing until one party would swallow their pride.
That didn't happen. Ceila managed to mention something Vermillion told her and it worked wonders. Now, finding a way to Murai was just a matter of time.
Vermillion told her to trust it, so Ceila had nothing but trust in her Lady.
Letting Thar go, Ceila began her walk among the mess she had started and forced. Nothing about this was simple or clear to a lot of beings. Villan wasn't sure if this was a good idea to let a Church inside. Not this kind especially. Letting them into Hell Haven was either a way to kill them, or Levandis had other plans if she let them in.
Either way, her Lady resolved it so Villan didn't have to work around it any longer. She grunted and watched how Ceila walked past her without blinking.
Paladins went behind her as well, and whatever they would do, havoc would break out. Vermillion wanted it, and all Levandis had to do was accept the costs and excuses, and take this situation as a rare opportunity.
“Bear your steps in mind, Sun!” Villan said and almost spit those words out. “Don't regret what you are starting.”
“I've hardly started anything,” Ceila said with her back facing Villan. “Everyone else will have to adjust then. You or your Lady. Nothing else.”
Chuckling, Villan adjusted her hair again. “Then let's hope the Gates won't swallow you whole.”
“No worries. You will bleed before that.”
Then, Ceila disappeared into the darkness.
[What about me...] Mindarch's weak voice suddenly resounded near Villan. [Got no voice in this matter or small skirmish? What a bummer.]
“You fool!” Villan shouted. “Shouldn't you work against these situations as a whole?! When had you figured they were coming? Some Overlord would make their move long ago. Leaving things to... Thar isn't fitting.”
[I warned her!]
“What warning?! What is there to warn a Ruler about in her backyard? What is going on?”
[Vermillion is.] Mindarch explained.
“And?”
[Levandis will take it if it can't change. For now, it goes to mortal heights. And... let's not pretend what goes over your head. You aren't nearly as half stupid as some think, so-called Overlord.] Mindarch tried for a joke, but Villan had no mood for jokes.
At some point, Thar got to his feet, still shocked at how powerless he was against Ceila. He figured it was a bad match, but even then, he was a powerful Extreme. He grasped how this fight started and ended, but it felt wrong on so many levels, that he wondered if he was alright. It was as if Ceila controlled the Paladins in her mind before crushing him herself.
Villan didn't pay him attention. She expected more out of him, even though it was a ridiculous assessment that Mindarch would've never allowed.
This act of losing an Undead Army cost them many souls and resources, even though Death Valley will take them all down. All by a few Paladins of low rank and 2nd Sun who weren't supposed to be this powerful, hundreds of resources were dead.
Villan understood the undeniable mess that was surrounding this temple. She wasn't certain of it at first, but it wasn't about her Lady. She was a scapegoat. An inevitable act that Lisa decided to put to the test.
And it worked, much to Levandis's displeasure, excitement over a new Anatidae going through her temple, and a plot surrounding many heights.
Throughout this time, there wasn't a word about Razmund. Or Uzbek, who was conscious of their conversation by resting against the wall. He heard most of what he wanted, and it seemed what he feared occurred. From now on, things weren't in his hands.
Razmund will have to do his best while he had his dog card.
[Anything else to remind?] Mindach asked Villan.
“I want a full report over the situation, Gates, and Vermillion Church and Encounter included.” She demanded her interest before going back to the temple, but not through the door, but with a flick of a finger. A thin space crack spread in mid-air, sucking the air inside.
[Yes. Yes. Another one who wants that.] Mindarch sighed as Villan disappeared into the crack.
[Now, what about you, mister who lost his bone.] Mindarch asked one of the few remaining folks.
Thar shuddered. “I would rather hope my Lady knows what she does.”
[That is a neat part.] Mindarch chuckled. [She doesn't. I am not kidding by the way. She really has no clue.]
“Oh...”
“She wings it, doesn't she?” Uzbek said as he fell to the ground, crawling on his limbs. “Serves her Hells well enough. Bunch of Chaos suckers.”
[Oh, you are still alive? I forgot about this dog that kept stalking me like an annoying fly over my head. Kill this ant, Thar. I demand it!]
Thar wasn't in the mood for jokes.
Neither was Uzbek, who pulled his arm up, showing his middle finger to the temple, and laughing. “Lost fair and square. That is for sure. Now, it is either your turn, mine, or there might be surprising results out of this for everyone.”
[No say, huh? Thar! Silence this fool or I will silence your mouth!]
“Shut the fuck up...” Thar cursed, shuddering his bones and checking if every bone was right where it belonged. Feeling as if his age was getting into his bones, he had no mood for Mindarch. Not only he didn't touch Uzbek, who wasn't doing anything wrong or against the rules, but he sighed at his crashed army in disbelief.
[You grew a bone too? Ugh! What is wrong with everyone!?] Mindarch shouted in disbelief before his voice disappeared.
Uzbek was just a party that refused to enter the temple, opting to stay in the Death Valley. Anyone could come here, but staying wasn't easy. This place was dangerous by itself. Those lucky enough to come here never stayed for long.
Uzbek proved himself enough, and surviving this whole situation wasn't clever. He was lucky that Ceila didn't bother killing him. He also uncovered quite a few pieces of information out of this situation. The kind that The Voice will love, Centralis adore, and his heart feared.
Gods were making their moves and not with pawns but with personal touches. They've already done so many times, but this time... it was clearer and weirder.
Vermillion was the clearest in involvement, but questionable in other things. It was unclear what she wanted. Uzbek still wondered that himself, as Helper status that Ceila pledged for was against their side. That meant Vermillion was showing her interest in something Uzbek didn't know.
Time will show it and others will change then.
Perhaps then, the Fate will change too.