Fifty-five years.
That was the time Ultium knew David. For some, it was a lifetime full of lows or heights, and for others, there was not much to living than trials and errors. Elves had long lifespans and devils were almost their equals from the certain standards of duality. One was so-called loved in Order and the other hated by Chaos. For Ultium, the difference didn't matter, for he had a time when he was growing up and following David because being alone wasn't what his heart desired.
Small, yet deadly, a little devil without family was like a black sheep among the white sky. It wasn't anything worthy, frankly, yet for devils in Hells, it was extremely rare for one to end up as an orphan, let alone tossed to the temple, or forgotten. No one was sure what might've caused what.
Ultium was no slave. He was no toy. Just a kid-like status was his point. Years went by until he even grew up and could smell the difference between tears and blood. Some beings could end up slaves easily because of Wars and nasty manners Gods or mortal powers used in their hopes. Bodies were a never-ending source of those looking for workers, and those looking for selling such workers. It was how demand worked. It always touched on power and hierarchy. Where there was a need, sellers and buyers commenced the deal. Morality fell short like the sight of a beggar's clothes.
In Hellscape and its history, there were always stagnant rules or no gratifying chains as long as one wasn't too lofty or hopeful for power. The military wasn't some sort of feudal system of Order and Laws. It was far from a powerful hand as well.
It was careless, meant to serve only one purpose: not to allow the balance to turn to complete Chaos and create stagnancy that would be the end of everything. Levandis feared the End. Many Gods did, so a good balance was necessary if they had to continue or wait. Many times, that turned upside down or sideways, affecting the living and the Gates themselves.
Ultium saw just a brief passage of time, yet he saw the light for a dream. It wasn't even that dark. It was mostly red like blood and the ground turning against the bloody sun.
Nothing spoke to him.
It was lonely.
Until a hand reached out to him, grabbing him from the disgrace as one who knew the shame and disgrace personally. David brought him from where the Hellscape couldn't keep him; not something worse. It went against the untold laws. Against something that devils prohibited.
It wasn't an easy decision. David often mourned such a choice. Why would they do that? Why did Ultium end up like a rock tossed and forgotten when his Bloodline was great? He wasn't even that bad compared to what was out there, in Depths, or close to Gods. Why it happened wasn't a problem. How was? It wasn't making sense to David, and history or sources ended nowhere.
David trusted his acts and knew Ultium. It was rare to see him flustered, yet seeking his heart for some dream or act was very hard. It wasn't like a complicated book that was Murai under Lisa's glances, or inside of David's mind. This one was curious, touching on the Sky and one hell of a curious Goddess.
Ultium was like a book left forgotten with pages torn, or missing. And those that were left had scribbles of insanity, symbols of unknown history, and pictures better left under piles of textbooks.
How long had it been since Ultium indicated his dream? A few days, at best? The moment he saw Anatidae sparked something, and after hearing about Surface, Encounter, and Helpers, things changed. Hope was like a curse, deadly and anticipating the best.
So when the worst would come, disappointments might follow. Each time Ultium ended like this, it should be a story to behold.
Was it the light? Divinity? How come Ultium was so keen on something most devils took as impure, unfit, and unsightly? David found guesses; no answers that could give their timing something new, or give him something better. This might be the best thing that could happen, for this was about part of the Sky that wasn't villainous. David can find a shelter here.
Until Lisa arrived and change happened, of course.
David wasn't entirely sure if they were prohibited from leaving, since he never dared to leave this place with Ultium for fear of some retaliation. Ultium was a prisoner here. In mind. In name alone. No cage was around, or cuffs.
The Sky was like a dream, with natural light and warmth on the skin like that was an unreachable treat. Emotions were hard or easy to contain. The heart was not.
It was something that David knew. Ultium was something good. Someone that he didn't deserve. He should be out there, walking on his own feet, killing gods and monsters, or people alike. Why would someone stop that like this, hiding it and letting it grow? How?
Ultium stumbled when Ceila ceased her hand. He bowed involuntarily to her, bumped into her belly, and almost fell to his knees. Then, she touched his head again, stabilizing him by lifting his long ear and looking half impressed and angry.
“D-David?!” Ultium panicked, mumbled incoherently, and glanced down. Ceila waved her hand away, flinching him back to David who caught his back. There, Ultium looked back and forth between her and David who was chuckling in amusement, confusion, and understanding.
“An ally. She is an ally? Call me older than a book.” David said, smiling with a meaningful look.
“What book?” Ceila frowned. “Tossing a devil at me? Be glad I haven't cut him in half.”
“You wouldn't do that. You need us.” David retorted and put Ultium aside where he was frowning and flexed his fists in his pockets. “Or so it seems to me, Ceila, the Second Sun. I heard of you from a certain someone and you've been a critical, yet unexpected arrival to this conjunction of problems. I haven't expected you to come here and....” He sized the Paladins and rather chose to omit them in his words.
“But you've heard of me. From whom? Is it flying or walking on two?”
“How about both?” David asked, pressing his hand to his chin in contemplating memories.
“An ally?” Ultium repeated that word, glancing in a pondering look at that tall woman that appeared like a sun itself. Her head almost held a halo. Why? What was a halo? Had he seen it before? Most religions from the Surface or Sky were unable to enter such lands. The Divinity was different. The place wasn’t close like Laws. It was something suspicious. Something that shouldn't come knocking on their doors.
Yet he swore he saw it. Who was she? Why did she feel like a reverence itself, yet deep down, it was more like a hideous snake that could hiss and poison him when not looking?
Yet, reverence remained like the majority of suns beaming in a day. Ultium hadn't seen those five real objects in the sky, but he heard David talk about it numerous times. He saw paintings too, though nothing great could give it a real deal.
Forests bathed in light, wide stretches of water were endless and over the horizon, and no ceiling or massive walls for a sky were a nice bonus. That was weird, for this world was no box, let alone a cage.
“Why does he keep looking at me like that?” Ceila pointed at him and a flick of her arm away summoned a sword from her waist, pointing at Ultium who sat on the ground as if he lost his knees.
David stepped between the sword and Ultium, spreading his palms before him. “Now, now, no need to carry steel. Well, it isn't steel. You want something, right? Ultium here is an honest devil. He is my worker. A great worker, I might say. There is no need to fear him. He is almost tame. Right?” He turned, smiling at confused, yet still half-frozen Ultium.
He heard some voice. What did David say again? Honesty? Tame? What was he killing and doing for the past hours?
“I will be two hundred before I will see a devil worth a candle,” Ceila grunted and retracted her sword. Her Paladins shifted in their cliff, watching the sight even with their armor and helmets on.
“Two hundred? Oh...” David grimaced. “You are a follower of a God. A true Gifted being. I am just a humble man closing on the lifetime and there is so much ahead.”
“Doesn't seem to me. Wanna check it? Perhaps it is shorter than you assume.” Ceila offered her sword again, resting it against David's shoulder, pressed it down, and closing it to those cheeky cheeks.
By now, Ultium shifted, got up like lightning, and pinched that sword between bloody fingers. It was an involuntary action; worthy for his heart alone, and he was thinking before moving, yet his body came faster. In his face, he remained frozen; eyes wide open and mouth mumbling.
“What do you think you are doing?” Ceila asked.
“Sky...” Ultium mumbled. “Light.”
The only thing that changed was the crimson spark in his eyes. Ceila saw nothing worth mentioning. She was carrying herself like a powerful warrior, and not a priest. Her regular robe was long gone, replaced by the regal aura of war armor and her personality went along with that. Perhaps something else, as well.
Plates curved right for her body, flowing like waves or molten feathers. It was mostly gray with gold and some red colorful accents. The breastplate protruded on her chest, tightening below and right above her hips, where it ended. Then, there was an interesting plated skirt armor that went toward her knees in fluttering softness that even the wind moved.
Most plates held etched intricate designs depicting the symbolism of Vermillion alone. It wasn't necessary right to call her Church a sect dedicated to her rules. That wasn't right in her book. Churches on the Surface effectively acted as a buffer for Gods to mend their power towards the mortals.
By goodwill, power, various benefits, offerings, or gifts, there was an endless supply and demand in mortals seeking those churches. Hells were almost the same, though some of those aspects were much more prominent than others. In Order and Chaos, there was much to be desired.
The better ones weren't far from very potent ideologies that were borderline psychotic, and some lines might not be far from others.
Then... there were Hells and beings untamed.
Ceila liked the way her Lady did things. They weren't forceful. They had a knack for demand, followed by head, shoulder, and feet. Whether plans or reasons were close or far, her voice carried the wisdom of ages that originated from many words. One ought to respect it. Ceila shifted her weapon again, but Ultium kept grabbing it.
“Mind you, devil, I can swing it more and your head would roll. If not, eyes would see your back and void itself. No sky. No light. Just pure nothing.”
Ultium released her sword in fear her words would come true.
Ceila frowned, her shoulder plates clicked together as they were strips of metallic white feathers, going over her back in a protective outer layer. High boots of metals and flexibility carrier simpler design, tightening around her feet and loosening against the knuckles.
Apart from her face, not a bit of skin was visible, which was something that Ultium liked and preferred from stories or fights. Armors were supposed to protect. People were harder to kill because of them.
That was so weird when Ultium saw succubuses walking and dancing in the Velvet District, almost naked, and feral. Why do they wear nothing like that? He didn't get it. None did, he feared.
“Um,” Ceila said, looking down at the tall Ultium barely up to her chest. “An ally then? A devil of all things? Well, my Lady is surely demanding in many ways, and her reasons might be farther than I could see. But at least you are a human. If not, what would the world think?”
“That you are sensible and clever?” David offered his idea behind Ultium, who kept one hand in his pocket and one still in the air, standing before David like a bodyguard.
“How clever of you...” Ceila forced out of her mouth that was no longer as hesitation, but still cold and pressed.
“N-nice to meet you...” Ultium mumbled, uncertain how to make a first impression. Should he smile? Wave? Frowning, pressing his brows, and quenching his fists might come off as hesitation. David said it once, some forty years ago. The treatment seemed delicate. David taught him many things, though not everything. There was only so much a devil could understand and get over time.
“U-Ultium... name.”
“Devil is a devil, no matter how one looks,” Ceila said, giving him a pondering look that seemed to go right through his skin, shivering him in return. “How about one that might be helpful? What would my Lady think, or her Paladins or her little sunlight?”
“Can you ask her?” David asked. “World is in shambles, you see. Your presence must be because of her trials, right? I have no way to contact outside forces. How is it outside? Is the world spinning? What about power politics? Centralis?”
“It is certainly in one piece.” Ceila plainly replied, unwilling to tell that her Lady was the one that shattered the hopes of this world, even if it was only temporary and done in not much mischief. It was still terrible and Ceila would lie if she feared such consequences, though she could never let it go. This life. This power.
It was still ongoing, so what to do? Her stakes were simple and almost secondary. Her Lady was a new Ruler behind the scenes, so what did it make her? Her pawn might be fitting in her opinion.
“You see,” David patted Ultium's shoulder and spoke in his stead, “I think the situation is indeed precarious outside, or inside. I doubt knowing everything is right. That much isn't worth a lot, is it? Especially since some involvement from the Surface touches upon this mess for a while, right? This temple is just a hindrance that has come alongside it. A mere step, I suppose. My little hopes are fleeting from something up above. Mind you, great Sun, I don't know all the details but isn't that inconceivably random how come someone like you is here?”
“You know my Title,” Ceila said. “Am I that famous in Hellscape? Doubtful, or...wait a second.” Ceila realized that David already let his tongue loose. Someone already spoke to him about Vermillion Church, and it might not be pretty or hard to guess.
“Indeed. I figured there might be allies in foes, but foes in allies sound the same to me. Although it came first as a warning and bad luck, this meeting is different in my opinion. Care for some explanations? I have heard of you from Lisa.”
“Lisa?”
“Murai's Life Companion.”
“Oh, that thing? I think I saw her once. Is she awake? What is the situation right now with him and this Gate itself?” Ceila said, relaxed slightly, and didn't want to acknowledge Lisa as an important point.
David found it interesting. “Encounter and all of that above might come as expected storm. They keep going, of course. One animal; the other...”
“Whatever. Hunt is nigh, yet it seems I cracked the edges and flung the heads of those who questioned their worth. It appears as if I've already helped everyone enough without knowing it. I Suppose he is alive and well, kicking and quacking like an idiotic Anatidae without Mother or instincts. That scowling duck doesn't know what is good for him. For him to run and not die is good. He should've crawled back though.” Ceila talked, and let her tongue loose, speaking coherently, with more vividness, almost as if she was letting her heart out. It wasn't because of stress, thought it might have some correlation to the past week combined with the rest.
At least she was no longer giving Ultium a long stare and a sword was no longer closing to his head.
“Anyhow, let's work it out in any capacity and worth. Others won't harm this party.” Turning to her Paladins in the shade, she gestured for them to come here as well.
“Is that so?” David asked. “You are yet to convince me.”
“What is there to convince?” Ceila asked a good question. “Situation isn't all that important. Centralis definitely isn't for me to care about. I, or not at all, decided to give more attention to what should be important. Nothing else will enter this temple. You won't change it just because you are suspicious. I am looking for Murai out of no spite or hate. Encounter or not, Hunt or a Clash, or cooking, or sleeping. None of that matters to me. So, David. Where is he?” Ceila straightened her hair, flicking it behind her back, and stepping closer.
“I...” David hesitated, clasping Ultium's shoulder as if he were a shield. He was back to looking as if he lost his spark, glancing back and forth between the ground and her legs. He no longer dared to look at Ceila's face for some reason, fearing that the warmth or that light would cease to exist against his crimson, or that her prior words were a precursor to a curse.
“Is my position that hard to conceive? I took your company into this Hell for something interesting when you went against the norm. Call me impressed, almost. A human helping a devil, giving him a place and heart to stay afloat. It almost makes me nauseous.”
“Is that so?” David frowned. “Your prejudice towards the Chaos is fitting, Priestess.”
“Indeed so. Your hope likewise. Helping to take the Encounter to a new height, your party has made some interesting choices in the past week. Be glad for how it goes, honestly. Without it, you wouldn't be where you are, hoping for something bigger than a dream.”
“Who are you to question the Dreamers?”
“Nobody, frankly. So, how come it worked for you again? Isn't the world no longer spinning? How come you have your Helper Dream?” Ceila twisted her brows, and for the first time, a devilish smile appeared on her face.
It sent shivers down his spine, yet David didn't back down “Knowledge is my forte. Hopes are what make us forget. Who tells if you aren't Razmund's Helper? Many questionable things surround that guy from the Surface. So far, only Ozeki is under our knowledge, though what about the others? His number is not one. Lisa found me. I found them. Hope or not, what is about to happen isn't for me to decide.”
“Whose choice matters then?”
“Answer me first.”
“Reason for me, huh? Blood of demons?” She shrugged, stating a fact by pointing at the bloodied weapons of her Paladins.
“Not enough. Do you think Razmund doesn't go against this place? He goes against it more than us. We don't want trouble. We killed those who wanted troubles.” David shook his head.
“I did the same thing. Oh, and I am not killing you. Why, I wonder? Perhaps it has something to do with help. Oh, and that comes from you, being worth thousands of potions, holding someone many times that amount by yourself. Seems like a puppy I can carry and get myself some fortune.” Ceila kept her smile; it looked unnatural on her face.
David began sweating. He felt like his fat was lessening, burning, and churning as he thought of the bigger picture. By now, Paladins surrounded him and even Ultium was starting to see the change in pace and smell. Blood started to boil and something in him was calling for a storm.
“You see, David. I am an impatient woman. It doesn't have anything to do with my position. So, information is what you want, right? What is something that only Murai knows? Something that will convince you. I wonder. Could it be something that Razmund doesn't know?”
“Why would you not help Razmund?” David came up with his question.
“Why? What is there for my Lady and Centralis Kingdom, or that single guy?”
“You tell me. There are at least a dozen strange things in this encounter that make no sense to me. I am no idiot, I might add.”
“Oh, that's an idea of a lot of beings indeed. They trust it and fail. Trust is convincing when trust can come and lies are no more. Doubts disregard trust. I think I get it, so...” Ceila scowled, finding this worry a bit unnecessary, so she forced her hand from the gauntlet, revealing her fingers.
They were long and soft, and guiding around them were threads of light. It wasn't coming from within her. And it didn't look like mana, but more like a light itself that was in a visible spectrum. A gifted Divinity, David wanted to guess. It was no tattoo-like pattern with Laws added to impressive heights. Divinity had its concerns and many Laws created distinct Samsara Wheels, followed by manifestations, and many effects.
Light might be pure Divinity like the azure depiction of mana. Unfortunately, it didn't mean that this power came from Vermillion, for she was a fiery woman with flame-like rumors.
Who was this woman? Who gifted her this temporal gift that could dissipate and leave her half-dead?
David was almost convinced this party was off the chart and something that was more doubtful than clear. Considering godly appeals in solving this problem, Ceila's party came at a sensitive and doubtful time.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
There was no way they were here for something simple. So, David thought about it and wondered if she was right.
“There is an easy solution to fix this problem,” Ceila pointed her finger to David's forehead. “I am familiar with the ways of souls. Not as good as her, but still good. A bit of those memories won't hurt, and I am not sorry if it's gonna harm your devil either.”
David flinched far too late. A beam of light penetrated his head, creating glimpses of conversation, memories, and words.
Then, the world shuddered. He found himself on the ground, kneeling. There was a crowned light echo of a God, looking like a statue made of light, flames, and suspense of disbelief.
One could see softness, hands, head, but no legs.
And it spoke? No... That was wrong. The statue was her, though it was no statue. Ceila was so far beyond that one might think of Vermillion as closer.
Memory Showcase was a rather easy soul spell that Ceila used. It showed David what was necessary, including vision, smell, and voice.
“Help him catch or handle him. Take care of him like a treasure. The Old One is of my home, yet he is shameless and homeless for eternity. Help is a priority and convince the stubborn one to feel no choice is next. Be forceful. Be glad. If not... persistence is a key. We need him. Find a way. I will make my move and will give you a path ahead afterward. If not, do it with the remainder of my voice and Divinity and do it well. I will return.” Vermillion said.
It was a wonder when it happened, and how old this memory was. How it happened too was a wonderful question that David couldn't see or guess. What changed since then if it was older than a week?
Ceila wasn't looking at the whole perspective. She took this voice for a Law. But some lies were fine to show, as they didn't lie back then. They were old, and not up to reality when Vermillion seized Ravine and discovered numerous secrets that were open for the Ruler alone.
So, Ceila showed him what counted as enough. Pictures poured into David's soul space, showing Ceila holding Murai. Wordless, unmoving like paintings made of crude oils and ash, and with speed and less waste. She hadn't shown him how Murai refused their advances because of his stubborn nature and the blunder in his eyes.
Perhaps it was upsetting because Ceila helped him back to health, yet he wasn't appreciating it too much. It wasn't good or bad. Murai was shameless in many things he was feeling and doing, and dealing with Gods was shameless, yet he was not ready to even think about them. And when it came to some personal deals, or after Vermillion talked to him directly, he was unhinged and convinced they weren't good for him. It was his perspective and he took the week after their conversation for great torture that fixed his belief.
Vermillion knew it.
Ceila disliked it very much.
Then, the Encounter started.
Did his refusal make him evil? What was his full reason for being like that if it involved Iris, Timmy, and her? What spoke worse, better, or enough? Would there even be a payment big enough for someone like the Old One?
Well, the after-match did create some changes. David noticed pictures that went on for a week, showing Murai that was resting under their guidance, albeit there was no obvious suggestion for something greater than healing. David heard of a grievance that went between Razmund and Murai. It was interesting and confusing. For example, such a Clash wouldn't start an Encounter. Murai was just a Child anyway and the reasons were unstable.
The biggest concern was they had no idea about Razmund's story or reasons.
Hence, David could feel why Lisa was so angry. Church was always watching. Looking. Iris didn't know Vermillion was watching, observing, and thinking over that week. Murai had no idea about it either.
Ceila didn't show off most explanations. Reasons were comfortable when she came back for Murai, going to the Vermillion Mansion, and showing the aftermath of days since then.
It was the context that David needed, although it was wordless and often illogical or in the wrong timeline.
He clinched on those pictures and remembered Lisa, who gave him a rundown of the Encounter and reasons behind Murai's story or some reasons. These pictures added some clarity, and since Ceila wasn't sure what David knew, it wasn't a terrible choice. Perhaps it was clever, because there was room for mistakes, and then, there was room for compromises or lies.
David screamed as Memory Showcase ceased to exist. Grunting and falling back, his voice and act jolted Ultium from his reverie. In a moment, he flickered his other hand from his pocket, forcing that bright pointing finger away with a slap, and got serious for real. Then, a step closer angled him right in front of Ceila, his single palm rushed forward, and a swirling cocoon of blood rushed from his core, hitting her chest.
Ceila didn't flinch. She took the hit without a blink and backed willingly. This hit cracked the ground and made craters and waves for dozens of meters. Ultium sent her flying as if Thar slammed her with his hammer. It was compact, yet sluggish. Why make a palm strike? He could've pointed his fingers forward and slammed it to her like a spear. Perhaps then, her armor would actually feel something. Here, she just flew away like a tossed pebble.
That was how some... well, Ceila glared at that pair as she flew, realizing what and who was before her.
Ultium didn't look at her; he hugged growling David and kicked the ground, shattering it to thousands of pieces as he disappeared into the distance. Paladins remained where they were, watching him and Ceila without any obvious moves. For as long as their Sun didn't voice it, they would rest. It seemed they let them go on purpose.
All of this took only a second since commencement, which left Ceila a bit surprised as she touched the ground with her fingers, twisted her hip, and stabilized her legs on the ground. Three deep crevices cut into the rocky ground for almost a hundred meters before she stopped herself.
“Well, how funny.” She sighted and patted her armor. It had no dent. So much for giving this devil too much regard. He was almost cute. Ceila figured he was far too gentle with her, which made her a little mad.
However, as she straightened herself and stepped forward, she heard cracks and saw a little hole. Small one. Not even a finger wide on her chest. Thin cracks went around it like a broken glass and her armor screeched as she moved and breathed.
She slammed it with her palm, stopping further cracks. “I will punch him next time, or give him a kiss. Wonder which will turn his mind to mush first.” That was a weird idea that none heard.
It was almost devilish, considering she giggled like a broken doll, watching Ultium not far from her.
He stopped fleeting and observed David's face in worry and confusion. This was a bad lesson. Test of his heart and spirit. First, worry; then get revenge. He failed it all. He didn't protect him in time. It was his fault he was hurt and screaming.
And he didn't seek revenge or fleeing as a good option, for there were dents and doubts in his heart.
Why!?
Blame and guilt contorted his face, making him ashamed yet deeply dangerous. Reverence almost all disappeared. That was weird. It should be utterly gone!
“B-boss?” Ultium stuttered, realizing that Paladins were already around him. It was far too late to flee. Why had he stopped? When did they surround him? When had that halo started to sparkle in brilliance?
His legs stopped on their own, or was it subconscious apprehension? From when he knew it, he wasn't a coward. Was he too worried to sense some puny light, let alone fight some great-looking Paladins? For once, he wasn't that aware of the political sphere of influence that were Divine Kingdoms, let alone warring establishments of divine armies. Paladins were close, their weapons nowhere, and each was amused and barehanded.
They didn't want him to flee, or they went ahead to tease him for trying.
“B-boy... You were hasty.” David mumbled after the pain lessened. Ceila should've spoken first before acting like an idiot, but perhaps it was a test. Why make a test when she wanted their help?
David doubted her intentions, but so did he his own. He felt the notions of Memory Showcase, which was a bit rare ability and sort of magic for those keen on souls could use.
Ultium glanced around, the glow in his eyes intensified and his eyes looked like circular beams that might blink and seize some blood in a blink. He eyed Paladins and Ceila alike, wondering if he could kill them slowly or quicker.
“She is an ally,” David repeated. “She gave me some glimpses of her memory. None seems fabricated, because I know the details. Lisa talked to me before. I get the gist of the context, so let's return. We can trust her in some capacity and doing what we planned is right around her alley. Perhaps she will help us even more than I know. Not everything is clear, but she sure isn't against us.”
Hearing his words put a strange expression on Ultium's face. It was a mixture of gladness and fury. One for not finding her an enemy; the other for allowing the pain go to his boss under his watch. He was literally before him when it happened, yet he didn't stop it before it happened.
Clutching his fists, Ultium watched in unwilling resolution how David got to his feet and walked towards Ceila, leaving him alone. He was excited and angry. What a weird mixture. Was there something else there as well? Something he never felt? Perhaps he should ask David about it when the time was right, change was near, or he would uncover those emotions alone.
Paladins didn't make any moves or sounds. They let David go to Ceila, who appeared unaffected by this brief blunder. Her armor was back together after a bit rush of her power.
“I feel like I should apologize, but it seems invalid of me do to so. Serve you right, almost,” David said politely, gesturing with his point finger to his left shoulder before swinging it to his knee; a symbolic and platonic degree of good willingness that touched the Sky Gods and various churches. It was a rather old gesture that belonged to many orders of knights who were unwilling to bow.
“Apologies taken. So?” She said coldly, figuring that her breastplate had taken more damage than she expected. Nothing that some repairs wouldn't solve, but it felt more like a slap to her face than anything else. She could've prevented it very easily.
“Then, Ceila, let me give you a brief overview of this situation. I traveled with Murai upon his arrival at this Gate. That was days ago after a hunt in Seventh Death Forest, or--”
“Heard that. Got that. Killed a bunch there myself. The past doesn't matter to me. I need what I need now.” Ceila dismissed his attempt to be polite or stalling.
“Well, then let's skip ahead. The start of Hellscape came with many changes and weird meetings...” David began his talk and left more things raw since Ceila seemed in a hurry.
Ultium stood behind him, hands in his pockets, and his feelings bamboozled his heart. He gazed at the ground in reverence next, obviously glad that Ceila was no target.
He will see her alive for a bit longer.
***
A couple of dozen kilometers away from these rocky hills. Sector 32.
Murai's opposition was galloping in their horses and already saw the menacing sunlight ahead. They were closing on Ceila's location too, but it was hard to tell if they would end up on the same path or rocky plain as them or not. They weren't even aware of their existence.
There were many paths and many flat plains or mountains, so it was possible to get lost even with stable walls around them, and meeting someone random was harder than easy.
Ceila missed them with her group as she dived into the Hellscape. Perhaps it was intentional. The cave was wide enough for many tactics and travels, with many detached roads that were far from others, and there were no villages. Some small outposts were in some places, protecting official roads, or businesses.
Ozeki remained in peace. Demonic Horses kept running and his men followed him behind, right beside Razmund who was lazily sleeping on top of his horse. He didn't move. He didn't flinch. He didn't know there was Ceila ready for him.
Within an hour, they arrived at an impressive and heated sight. A vast rocky plains was empty of any person, or battles. It was a distinct plain surrounded by cliffs and rocky formations. It was dull, with flatter sides that had a bunch of paths ahead.
They didn't even stop before they reached the end of one of those paths, which all ended in the same way. There was a cliff of at least forty meters in height right above the Scorching Light, looking like a branch overlooking the sand below.
There was quite a sight on top of it, yet it wasn't elevated enough for significant clarity, for there was big heat and twisted desert ahead, putting discomfort to the eyes and space. At least there were no storms in this desert, or very annoying winds that would create sandstorms. Such things needed wind or some colder humidity that would clash against the heat.
Because of the lack of wind, the heat was unbearable for most lives, drying the eyes, fogging the senses, and turning mana into heated depiction of steam, dry heat, and flow that was akin to dense gravitational warmth. Any Shaping was hard in this environment, and Razmund and Ozeki felt weaker immediately.
Only a part of Scorching Light was visible from this cliff. Barely a pair of Sectors was visible beside one another, with many others going far away, blending as there were hardly any physical differences between them.
“Were you here before?” Ozeki asked a stupid question out of boredom, turning to his right to seek sleeping Razmund.
He didn't even flinch in his response. “Sure I did. All my previous visits provided targets in Sector 50 and above. Now is no different as well.”
“Oh, how unlucky a human can be indeed. So you have traveled beyond this desert each time, bearing these lawless Sectors and heat?”
“Yes,” he replied calmly, hands behind his head. There was something off about his demeanor and act.
“Well, then you seem to be familiar enough to keep up with us. Let's go!” Ozeki raised his spear high in the air, increasing his voice and unleashing a war cry akin to mountain rumbling and beasts roaring. It wasn't a demonic ideal, but a military manner towards a battle had clear buoyancy and effects.
His men did the same roar, echoing their cry toward the Scorching Light, and cluttering their weapons against their armor or others. Few of them even hit themselves, letting crisp sound further away. One wondered if it was a good idea. What if their enemies heard it and fled faster?
It certainly put fear in the hearts of their enemies on the battlefield. That was their main benefit. Another was morale.
Ozeki pinched the reins of his Demonic Horse, gesturing it down the steep hill below this cliff.
It was no suicide. He went first, and his horse carefully went with its head down, finding footing on the far edge of the dozens of meters below this jump. The horse started to gallop on the steep cliff as if it were a mountain goat.
Rest soon followed. Each rider was skilled and didn't fall. Most work was up to the Demon Horses anyway, who were more than capable of doing this simple feat. It was a matter of time before they entered the Scorching Light where their foe was walking, or flying, and some ambush waited.
There was a possibility that they passed one another, but Ozeki found it implausible. Their time was kind of terrible, sources were easy because Ozeki knew what he was doing, but what about his target?
Unlike Murai and his companions, Demonic Horses could travel through this scorching heat at great speeds, though with limited range and stamina. Their skin was tough and shiny, giving them a sharp edge against heat. It wasn't something like Heat Absorption. It was about the resilience and shine of their skin and the aftereffects of their Physique and Bloodline. They were simply sturdy enough to live through this desert and travel with occasional stops in some shade of a mountain.
However, it was still a dangerous prospect to see it as a good thing. Bandits were willing to take such great mounts for valuable targets. If things went south, repercussions from losing those horses, or stranding them to die, wasn't a pleasant possibility.
Ozeki knew how harsh army management was. Each rider was priceless because one hardly bought out experience and loyalty at the same time. Either of those was usually fine and desired. None were unfit for the army, and some growth might solve some issues.
And if both were there, then time requirements and money were all mandatory to let it remain without a change of mind. For many armies, let alone Gods, loyalty was priceless.
There was a limit to how long these horses lasted in this heat. They need water and meat. Such things were possible to store in spatial equipment, but each horse required a lot from each.
Ozeki wasn't stingy, though space for spatial equipment was always easy to find because of his reputation and wealth. The water took up a lot of space if the expenditure was vast. Military rations for men were similar, and while economics were often simple or complicated, the bigger armies became quite problematic in management.
The best way to solve this was magic. If someone had a mage with the Water Affinity in Mana Core, things would be much easier and management a piece of cake. Food wasn't as important, for one could hunt or store dense meats. It was much easier.
Ozeki had no such water mage. Water was valuable and hard to tame anyway, despite it being perfect for this heat. For a mage to quench a thirsty army, one would have to have an immense mana pool.
Ozeki carried only a couple hundred gallons of water for the worst-case scenarios, which should be enough for a day or two in this heat. Will it be enough to find the other party, fight them, and get back? Well, he had no worries about this journey.
He thought of his opponents instead. They shouldn't be poor under his recollections and worth some danger. What about an Anatidae going through this desert? At a Child Stage of unknown degree, yet Child was a Child. It was an easy target for Ozeki. Razmund said it himself, though he wasn't aware of the heights of those beasts. Ozeki was different. He couldn't fear it and was very curious about what changes it might undergo in a few years.
Some beasts had different sources of life. They might grow faster and level up quicker than humans. Devils might be harsher because of their vaster lifespan. It's where different starting points created disparities, but in no way was it like a curse. For beasts to come into Level 50 within a year of their growth wasn't unexpected if their bloodline was good. Humans couldn't do that in the slightest because of how they grow. At one point, even beasts would slow down. Their temper, body, or talents would hinder them, whereas humans, devils, or elves had a much higher ceiling.
And as far as Ozeki knew, an Anatidae Child was far from a menace that Elders or worse could unleash. Ozeki wasn't sure of his exact routes, or what to take that child for. Before those superstitions became unbearable, a Destiny Dice glinted in his memory. He trusted it.
Gambling nothing but his receding reputation was the easiest decision of his devilish life. His wealth was secondary, his position in the army was already low, and his personal power dripped like his heart. It was a matter of time before he would lose everything.
So Ozeki didn't care for helping humans. It sounded fun instead. He was already watching the victory before his grasp, although it had a heated sense of urgency and no small amount of madness.
Soon, their journey as a team changed and Razmund steadied his posture on his horse, looking worried when something behind his head couldn't remain intact.
“What is it?” Ozeki asked him, curious about the pink light and thin whispers echoing from his left hand. He couldn't understand a word coming from it.
“It is doing it again,” Razmund argued, showing the Dice to him. It was small, trembling in its prison of a few straps of fabric and his fingers. It wanted to escape at all costs, going far or hiding under a rock.
“How long does it do that?”
“Just now...well, it did this a few times before.”
“And nothing happened afterward? It sounds and looks unstable.” Ozeki asked and laughed afterward. What else had he expected from an artifact of this kind?