Lisa sighed, zipped ahead, and startled Murai like a bright Sparkling.
“There are dozens if not hundreds of branches according to Foolisch and Lookish that are up to our benefits. Some point to a possible portal, but none is clear in any words. No one believed in them, but one is here. I took it personally and devised some methods to consider them. It is about place and history, and less about mining. I have to look at what makes sense in this riddle, so it is difficult. These documents point to some places. Murai Hisagi, you better be careful of any small tremble going through your token. If you won't notice it, we are screwed. No. You are screwed! We can't go to the same places twice.” Lisa argued, giving Murai a deep look that shut him up.
She was rightfully serious. Murai picked a Token from his pocket with his beak, giving it a proper look. It felt like nothing special if he was honest. He barely used it for anything different than a small weight in his hoodie. He didn't even use it like a Guide's Beam. Most of that charitable work was done by Itrosh who then gave Murai his cut of the essences.
Token worked for Challengers like a charm. It was a target for others, but also a key for Murai. The closer it got to a portal, the more effects it showed. Trembling, shimmering warnings, or noises would emerge out of it, notifying the Challenger they were close to their goal.
This left the whole Hellscape behind. Murai won't return or see that cave for a very long time.
“Where to look for a start?” Murai asked Lisa, knowing it was good to be careful, yet too much of it wasn't necessary. Who knew what would come after them in this Hunt for the portal? Murai had his ideas, while Lisa had hers. Itrosh and Bagus will be the ones solving that problem.
“Accordingly,” Lisa pointed to Itrosh aside. “to whatever we can find from these maps, we go and clear our paths. A lot of guesses point to a lot of walking, so let's go before someone charges at us from behind.”
Under the bright glow and Lisa's instruction, the group moved in their order. Itrosh made sure to clutch the map, letting Lisa look at it as she pointed to where to go. The others had it easy; Bagus had Murai sitting back on his head, and even Itrosh took a seat around his neck, leaving him as the sole walker in this group.
He didn't find it problematic as long as he wouldn't fly. It wasn't possible since a lot of walking was ahead, followed by a long journey with an unknown end.
***
Far above, in the Scorching Light that was not ceasing in its immense heat and near lifeless grounds. Sector 43 was very close to Tagg's Town, but still far from from Sector 45 and Ip'ur Mountain.
There was a vast open desert plain made of dried rocky ground that looked like red stones. Heat twisted the eyesight, causing disturbing vision, hallucinations, and issues with traveling straight. For most weak mortals, this place was fatal and dreadful in mere visits.
Yet it wasn't even close to being lifeless right now. This plain was stretching for a long distance ahead, with mountains protruding around like pimples or rounded hills every couple of kilometers. It was a plain that had many purposes in the past, like many places in this desert or Gate as a whole.
For the most part, it was a perfect place for large-scale conflicts. The ownership of some mountains and mines came through battles a lot, and no better place came through arguments more than military conflicts in open regions. A lot of battles happened in this place for a good reason. Even more happened for questionable reasons.
It was no different at the moment. It was no time for happiness, wars, or vivid craziness. It was more strange, as two groups of questionable origins arrived here, noticing each other's presence, thinking that everyone was wrong and this heat must've caused this joke.
A new chaotic battle was growing, suggesting a large striding group of soldiers on their Demonic Horses, followed by a couple of figures without horses, let alone big numbers.
For Ozeki's group, they rode with some occasional stops. It was inevitable because their mounts had their limits in this Province, yet their limitations weren't even that bad.
Ozeki was at the front, bathed in a suit of armor of red and black colorful plates. Some had intricately connected ornaments, looking like bones, scales, old runes, or special symbols that must have something to do with devils.
His men were behind him, ready and rattling in their armor and weapons as well. Aside from Ozeki was lazy-looking Razmund, who was resting on his Demonic Horse without a shred of care about this place, or to the fact that bad times were ahead.
But they knew something would come.
“Well,” Razmund and Ozeki said at the same time, with Ozeki being one who stopped everyone's mounts without any touch. He shouted instead, glaring at the shimmering and twisting rock formation not that far ahead. A rocky plateau like this was far from an ambushing place, yet some group had come and finally reached his place. Ozeki was smiling like a true devil, chuckling and his eyes sparkled in joy.
There were many ashen rocks with sand around some portions, looking forgotten and old. There were menhir rocks, protruding from the ground like trees, with many others resting on top of them as if tossed and sleeping, or being carried by those below.
Under their shade, there were six figures in total, waiting and looking at the incoming small army. Each of them was unique to Ozeki's view, apart from one that was a huge headache that he couldn't witness in his eyes.
It was bright. Too bright and menacing, pointing to a priestess that was like a sore spot in this outlandish desert.
Ceila walked underneath their shade, taking the shadow as an unnecessary touch. Three Paladins in precious-looking armor moved forward as well, flanking her sides, unbothered by the heat, and bringing out their weapons. One had a hammer, the other a shield and a sword. The last had an intricate halberd with a long and wide curved edge and long handle.
Under the proximity to a vast and crazed artificial sun, they looked like scorching fortresses walking ahead, unobscured, tall, and lofty. They were Divine, so to say, per Ozeki's wisdom and eyes.
David and Ultium were also there, following this unexpected team behind, and looking as serious and convinced at this meeting as they could be.
Both hated the heat. They didn't want to leave their shades, yet they couldn't stop the incoming struggle. It was a questionable confidence why they were like this, as there were dozens of opponents ahead, and they had six pairs of libs in total. Who should be confident in this situation?
“It seems I can finally see the reason for that variable, Razmund. We got a church ahead. Not the normal kind, but some priestess looks like a blazing sun. With three crackhead Paladins behind as well, so call me crazy, but ain't this something?!” Ozeki said, glancing forward without looking at Razmund who hadn't changed his position. “Call me crazy, but this isn't one bit normal. How could my Lady allow this! Why did none tell us about it? No change in the Hunt? Is everyone afraid because of this? How they find us ahead... or likely waited. Was it a portal, or was our journey too slow? It looks like you've caused some uneasy troubles, fucker.”
“It seems that way, or this is an ambush no different from a clash,” Razmund mumbled, spreading his arms and both eyes opened. “It is Ceila, isn't it? How has she made her move with the Surface and everything in shambles? Is it a change in the Divine Kingdoms, or does her Church want its piece of our Encounter? How are they here, with the problem above, or in this place? Perhaps it is what your Lady wants, Ozeki. Maybe this is her idea to go against us. I am a hindrance. I took some problems along with myself or forced it. Well, part of the pair is here, in fact.”
Ozeki grumbled as Razmund continued with his message.
“Radiant Paladins are also there. Why is this possible from the start? Has your Lady taken such a blunder that she doesn't care for her face? Or is this far above her to even matter? How? Is she afraid, or...” Razmund mumbled, showing no emotions apart from irritating apathy in his voice. He was questioning a lot of things right now.
Before him was an astounding picture that increased the weight of questions and mixed statements, reports, and ideas coming through years of experience. He thought he understood this world and what Centralis wanted was also clear. Razmund played his card well, but he wasn't the only player in this game.
Ceila was suspicious in many ways, yet what about those Paladins behind her? These were beings from the Divine Kingdoms that moved to the Surface and into this temple. Everything about them was far from the norm. Ceila was from the Surface. She could be here, at some... capacity, or bargain with Levandis.
Ozeki found everything more stunning than Razmund. Ceila was unfamiliar, but he knew her visor and aura because priests and churches had their inherent values. It spoke thousands of words and wonders. As for those Paladins, they were very different and seen as eternal enemies to every damned devil.
Reigning clashes of Chaos and Order created an incredible amount of forces, and every potent culture had its lows and heights. Gods were lofty. Sky had their Paladins like great eternal generals and anything from the Chaos was deemed as crazy and fitting for destruction.
Most Holy or Divine Wars contained these sorts of beings. Powerful demonic legions were at one side, with armies, churches, and deaths showing no mercy or indifference. Supplementary parts were mortals of all kinds. Be it the fabled Divinity that might be close or far, some folks couldn't touch what they wanted.
Mortals hoped for change, taking part in those wars with a mission, benefits, Blessings, or simple growth in rise. Those close to Gods already benefited, so they too shall try their best, because a mere matter of Divinity was splendid across the board.
All in all, there were counterbalancing clashes against powers and warring states of strength, creating instances in all Wars in various levels of danger and worthy prospects. It was creating a mash of thousands or tens of thousands of armies that would go against one another as long as the start or the allowance was close and not seen as going against the Gods.
Anyone low could come at those higher, but higher ones wouldn't lower themselves to obliterate the weaklings all the time. Doing so was rare, closing on instances where some powerful fools could no longer remain calm. Wars could run in low numbers clashing against massive armies. In those cases, the balance was in shambles. Anything could go and die, as long as the context was within the expectations and desires of Gods, or a death choice of mortals who felt no other choice.
Wars acted as a particular pride. It had thrived in this world long before the present godly pantheons.
Because of that, eradicating the opposition was a challenging task because surviving was satisfactory as far as power struggles went. Winners dictated the rules. Especially in circumstances where Gods moved against one another, creating powers that were hard to kill, or creating politics or circumstances to their benefit.
But if they didn't or couldn't do much, and rather moved against some setting, place, or for something war-worthy, many situations would turn unimaginable. In that case, the balance was a joke or a simple justification. It was only right when those above the deciding factors or clashes thought of them as correct.
Mortals and their desires were simple in comparison, for they were fools sprinting for the unknown rewards, with few knowing they were just looking at carrots dangling from a stick. Some knew of it, of course, but what could change the already established status quo?
This world was old. It had its cultures and some things were impossible to change. It wasn't as if everyone wanted to kill each other. Gods were the same. For cultures to end, the actual practice was close to fundamentally changing the entire world. It couldn't work like that. This world would've been long lost otherwise.
Ozeki bet his heart he was looking at a situation that was impossible to see, but very thorough in understanding. For a church to come and Paladins to show up, what required it was close. It was beyond him! He was either the carrot or the stick, or looking at something beyond the Encounter and himself. It was right. Razmund had been using him since the beginning and he allowed it and let it happen.
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There was no place for regrets, even if questioning it was correct because knowing helped this place, let alone the military that Ozeki had known all his life. Levandis might find it helpful, if not aware that they were here. She must know them! Otherwise how else could Ozeki think?
Still, he lost his voice. Radiance was one side of the Divinity stemming from the overbearing Order. It was within the notion of Light Element, with Heat or Flame being close. Allegedly, of course, there was a beginning authority and aspects for the Order that described those aspects. Hell Gods controlled the true laws differently, either relying on roughness, or forceful methods and simplicity. The radiance was one face of the Sky Gods and it was a power that was radiating in clear ways and eradicating the Chaos.
What was before him was no God, even if Ceila felt packed with it. In feeling or a knock of it, was it like a wisp? It was hardly tamed under worldly beliefs, which meant she wasn't benefiting or relying on anything common. Judging it was up to his benefit, for it meant something very bad was incoming for him.
Running was futile and those radiating Paladins were gazing at him as if they looked for prey. As for that priestess with toys from the Sky, she was worse for some reason, yet different as well.
Their terrific figures bathed in the glory of fights, yet power from above didn't find this Scorching Light unfaithful. That priestess felt at ease, taking the heat for breaths and suns for fuel. There was something about this place that made some outsiders very happy indeed, which included even some Gods and Divinity itself. Mana was why and empvorement had numerous matters. Levandis always promised they wouldn't come here, yet here they were.
Ozeki maintained his vigilance and he saw dangers in a single glance. In fact, there were five glances worth of dangers in total. Ceila was a figure of the Surface, yet her demeanor was higher than these Paladins, even though she was still part of the church and not the Sky. There was something about her that Ozeki couldn't take for granted or being fine in his eyes.
Each Radiant Paladin had at least the respectable power of a whole church, reaching far from some Path, partial or fitted Divinity, or equipment. There were three of them, strolling and hindered as invasive property of the Surface. They weren't free and never will be, for their path was set and Sky should be theirs.
An impenetrable force was here, with any following Sector feeling seas away. Ozeki couldn't do this. Perhaps he shouldn't... He should be glad that things went this way.
Realization hit hard. Caught, forged, and unkempt, this variable shouldn't have happened. It was against the rules!--he repeated in his head, unable to realize how this idea confirmed something terrible moved behind the scenes.
Because of his past, Ozeki figured they were here because of Razmund and nobody else. Gods! Sky... Ozeki furrowed his brows, making the most hideous expression of his life. He had no helmet, so his hair fluttered around his scalp like quivering serpents.
“What to make of you,” he shouted. “oh, little godly pests?! How could someone perceive such actions as a Breach of the norm? How is my Lady willing to stand in the presence of a Surface priestess in her temple?” His voice carried a lot of power and quakes for not many reasons.
There was nobody here to judge him, so he shook the ground and all of his soldiers behind him, who looked at this surprising perspective with bewilderment, which then turned to unhinged anger. Then hype caused by their leader turned them wild. Their armor cluttered when they became one step closer to the bloodbath, and even their horses got restless.
Ozeki didn't care.
He changed his heart.
No fear or questions were worthy in a fight for his life. There was no Lady. There were no acknowledgments. He was here for himself and should let the blood speak for itself.
“It seems you are as clueless as some kids would be,” Ceila said, smiling in confidence as she walked onward. It was right. Gods did perceive and act in mixed ways, but only when they needed to, when they had to, or where they liked to.
Ozeki's cup of patience overflowed, making his craving ridiculous to stop. He swung his arm, letting a wild spear appear out of nowhere. He jumped from his horse, letting out a thick aura from his flesh and hands flowing forth. It was blood. A thick bloody sight flowed, fighting against the heat, rough ground, and leaving the scent of death behind.
As he landed, the Demonic Horses shut up, wincing back and forth in fearful agitation. A simple spear strike with its dull part to the ground rendered the fear out. They hummed in thin growling noises, shivering in anticipation.
Ozeki began walking forward, getting close to face Ceila all by himself, including the Paladins behind. He wasn't afraid. Why should he when he was doing exactly what he wanted? He didn't need to face or care for the consequences of his actions. It was others who shell consider their acts. Razmund did so... but could this be the same? Some human priestess who seemed to be the boss of this group was in his sight. Those Paladins were as well, albeit their meaningful parade meant something worse.
Ozeki's arrogance was too deep, even though it was true that he was no Rataratan. But he was one of the old rising stars of the Demonic Lands. He battled in places this girl shouldn't even know, shedding the blood of others or his, or even those like them without batting an eye.
As for why he was here, in this place, lost and weak, it was perhaps Fate that made him loose. Taking time and figuring out the next moves were one of the few reasons devils were unpredictable and hard to reason with. They held their acts for their families, their own name, or relied on the heat of momentum and nature.
Ozeki was alone. His name was almost dead. He was old and dedicated to the military, yet where did it get him? Weakened and sickened by his defeats, he was like a rat who waited for the End. For a former Extreme-level fighter, that sounded wrong and terrible.
In the Hells, devils had very high positions. Among clans and families, they held the most God positions and had various Paths, which made them one of the most prominent races in this entire world. Their Bloodlines and hearts carried those reasons, as nearly everything that power desired could follow the Paths and Divinity alike. It was full of conflicts, as well as keen desires and influences that made them like this. Devils were natural, thus able to gain countless followers.
Ozeki knew that Hellscape wasn't a good place to spend leisure time. Especially for him, it sounded devious. However, at one point, he gave up and figured out a good place for recovery, and looking at the bigger picture from afar wasn't all too bad. Within this temple, many beings waited and lived like him, while the Hell itself was even more enormous. Many commenced exchanges and knowledge, expanding themselves or working for others, and making this temple into a hub of fascinating whispers.
The Depths were equally impressive, as they depicted the Old World and many Dungeons of various cultures. Almost every power in the Surface was away but included and taken as a potential threat, enemy, or target.
Ozeki had his home here, despite it being a place where he hated to die. It reeked of weakness. He might not be the devil he once was, yet when a devil had foes to kill and places to reach, he shouldn't care. His reignited heart blazed. He overlooked a chance that his Lady ordered, for there was still that cursed human who beat him, while this party was delightful.
Armies were formidable and crucial to Levandis. In the past decade alone, Ozeki wasn't much, so this timing got right and Razmund found a way to catch his heart. As for this mess, he might crack its shell and let some darkness seize its secrets.
His prowess needed no remedy. It needed an outlet. Many soldiers kept on going without any stops and it was inevitable for for some to lose their steps for all eternity. For those that carried no memories of the past life, they couldn't do much else because when stars rose above others, eating them, or slaughtering them to get stronger, weaklings were dust. It was an unavoidable reality in not just Hells but many powers in the Surface had very brutal manners. Centralis was one such place.
Achievements to carry history and wars were a meaningful remedy. Ozeki was a warrior all his life, carrying the flag of a devilish yet pretty skull and a circle of many eyes. He wasn't necessarily demonic in heart or devilish like many of his kin. He grew up in the army, so his heart cemented different ideals.
He did not need family or a clan. Honor? He cared about it the most. The loss of his edge was a crack of honor. First Legion was all about it and whether one lost their edge, they might lose everything.
When one was no longer benefiting the critical Lady, pushing boundaries and fixing that stuff took more than one life.
“Move aside,” Ozeki said calmly to Ceila, taking her as a bother her Lady must want to see dead. He decided on it himself, assuming that this party must be killed. All alone. Right now. The spear aside from him was tight and big, swaying in terrifying motions of bloody mana, looking thick, and crisp in its thick spearhead that protruded from all that blood. Silver and sharp, it could chop apart anyone.
“Are you worth of it?” Ceila said, standing before this devil her height.
“No. Not in a fitting way, but the repercussions of your existence are not good. You have no place here. None whatsoever. You don't belong here. You won't take many other steps.”
“None?” Ceila laughed, smirking and taking this silly devil for an unfortunate soul who didn't even know what he was part of. “You don't know anything. Your Lady let me in after bearing some costs she couldn't deal with. She gave me a tough time, yet can't even fix everything in time. It ended up unsustainable. Thank god that she realized I was not here to trouble her table at all. But if someone decides I am, what is the earth but to stand on it?” Ceila asked as if there was a child before her. Her hands rested on her hips, itching for her sword.
Ozeki frowned, looking at her since she was as tall as him, yet her aura and feelings were even larger. “Hm. You are odd for a priestess. To what lengths are you willing to go? What Lady you serve to die such meaningless death as going into this place!” He heard her right, yet didn't want to believe it. His Lady wouldn't allow such a loss of pride.
“It's not like it's anything different or difficult to imagine or say, devil. Now,” Ceila stepped aside, peeking behind Ozeki but he stepped to hinder her.
“What about those behind you?” Ozeki looked at those Paladins that stood on the spot like statues, waiting for their fun and looking very much ready to murder him. As for a human and some devil behind them, they weren't in his eyes; not when these four were so great.
“Your kin strifes in the Surface for every opportunity to trample humanity and go against the Divine Kingdoms regardless of the circumstances. So, yes. I don't care about some difficulties when the world is in shambles. Why? Isn't that how some worlds are and how this world has long been ruined?”
“And who tells it in the Surface or the Sky?” Razmund suddenly asked from his horse, speaking calmly.
“Your chaos,” Ceila answered as calmly as she wanted, though she hesitated afterward because Razmund felt different. “No. Perhaps that isn't right. You are just a tool for much wilder reflections. Or perhaps you are just a pet that could be tossed aside, forgotten, and stomped by those who own or use you.”
“Is that so? Radiants and your church are no different if that's the case. They are just as laughable but fitting because of what we are to Gods anyway. To me, it seems Vermillion wants to make this difficult for everyone. She comes and chooses to strike when the world is bloody hot. Against us and.... what else? Can she afford it?”
“Is it wrong to move when opportunities happen? Force is law, child,” Ceila said with an icy tone.
“She doesn't know what is good for her, but she doesn't even have a power or reputation. A church that barks like dogs when there is something hot and gloriues ahead isn't usually to last a long time. That is what neutrality gets you; a lacking reputation is far from being overestimated.” Razmund said, got down the horse in a single move that was close to falling off. He stepped aside from the restless horse, standing straight and tall. “You don't know anything that moves us. Centralis or not, your church has no place to stay. It is... shameless, but you are here. Odd.”
“Says a human child whose life is distracted by those living long lives, or better ones. Centralis isn't what it used to be. They aren't prepared. You aren't ready. No one is ready for what is about to start,” As Ceila spoke, her voice turned a bit deeper and even her aura deepened. She was no longer so glorious but rather collected and seemed like a bright sharp sword that could strike in a moment.
Razmund looked at her and glanced at each Paladin with unknown thoughts. “So you are stopping us for something.”
For him, this was as unexpected as witnessing how the Voice stopped working. Ceila was a headache for the Surface. Not him. Why was she here? What allowed this to exist....well, he forgot. The world wasn't in its rightful place right now. If anything made sense, this was reeking of substantially more problems than whatever he had initiated. His Encounter might be that spark, or... what was happening on this planet might no longer matter for his brain.
Razmund had no idea if this group before him had some hopes in his position, or if it was his opposition, or if it was something far above him. Gods would answer everything if he was brave enough to consider them, but he wasn't. They were moving against one another and some mortals were weak. Most Blessed were the same and sometimes ended in a struggle between them.
Considering these Paladins, Ceila was at the center of it like a pillar, yet above her, godly Divinity might hover and play a very special role.
As for David, he played the third wheel in this situation. He had no say in any matter, so he listened to them as far as he wanted. Ultium stood by his side, interested in Ozeki who looked like a different kind of devil. He looked like a warrior with sturdy and crazy blood, trembling the air, heat, and ground. His heart was beating, thinking that this devil might do.
What would happen next?
Ultium was curious and didn't care if his enemy was a devil; he didn't mind any business. Order or Chaos, or some righteousness, it didn't matter. Devils killed each other, Gods killed each other in the Sky too, and mortals killed everything. That was the truth.
As long as it was within the rules David declared, everything was a fair game.
“My mess and time?” Razmund asked, walking forward. “Mess what was directly perceived by the Battleworld is deep, but what would you know? For you, it is something ahead or gone. What's your deal?”
“Right. You, yourself, are no better than anything we've done. We move because it is necessary for the bigger picture. We came to ascertain you.” Ceila declared.
“Interesting,” Razmund smiled and turned to Ozeki. “I will add some incentives. Keep them. Ten-fold. How far are your chances? How well do you think this can go for?”
“Ten?” Ozeki raised his brows, glancing at Razmund as if he wanted to understand him. “Three Paladins. One might be for my team. I can take on one and this persistent priestess as well. You take care of the rest.”
“Are you serious?” Razmund scowled and felt he was joking.
“I am already generous, though... it might be the end of this charade anyway, so let's stop pretending,” Ozeki said, brandishing his spear with one hand forward, and striking what was before him. Blood stung and moved, yet the spear had its physicality of a fine steel of unknown rarity and alloys. Its tip was a palm away from Ceila's face, who took this provocation with a thunderous beat of her palm. She clutched that edge, unmoving like a mountain.
No provocations were neglected.
When a God decided on something, it was up to their churches to make their moves, give their words some weight, and push their words to reality.
Ceila had her tasks and a big mission to accomplish. She didn't want to give Razmund a single chance to go towards his premise, but killing him might no longer be possible, or clever. It troubled her like the lacking voice of her Lady.
Ozeki had his weight in all of this, so he acted fast.
“Move aside,” he howled and his whole body exploded in bloody color like flames of true blood.
His precious and flexible armor gave him an air of importance and his aura flooded, letting his eyes shine.
Then, Ozeki unleashed his Blood Domain, knowing that his End might be coming after all those ages and wars.