The Abyss was different from the Elysium.
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Jokes aside, while they were both pocket realms based on the topography of the same island, they developed in profoundly dissimilar ways. There were many reasons, such as the imposed self-sufficiency of the Abyss caused by being effectively sealed off from the rest of the world, the radically different political and power structures, or even their embracing human technology instead of magitech. Yet, there was one detail I had somehow overlooked all this time: the Abyssals were fundamentally different from the Celestials.
To be more precise, they were far less homogenous than their Greco-Roman cosplaying cousins. While the denizens of the Elysium managed to invent their own caste system based on wing numbers and whatnot, on a core level, they were effectively identical. A Malakim had fewer wings and less raw power than a Seraphim, but they all had the exact same abilities; a Celestial form, a natural Barrier, flight, and the ability to sing magic.
In contrast, the people of the Abyss were way more varied, even in their human forms. Some were pale like Snowy, others had skin darker than Lord Barnabas's. Yet others sported exotic hair colours that made Tajana's black/pink hairdo look sensible in comparison, and I've even encountered people who seemed naturally bald, often decorating their scalps with tattoos. However, that was nothing compared to the variety in their supernatural Abyssal forms.
To illustrate the difference, we just had to look at Snowy and Crowy. Both of them belonged to the same Abyssal house, the same family, and yet they looked practically nothing alike, neither in their human nor their Abyssal forms. My sister had more of a succubus-type inspiration, with the latexy fetish outfit, the high heels, and sporting a thin tail with a cute little spade at its end. In contrast, the head of House Inanna had more of a satyr vibe, with the cloven-hooved feet and the reverse-jointed legs covered in thick black fur.
The only things they shared were the curled horns and leathery wings, and the more I observed the denizens of the Abyss, the more convinced I became that these suspiciously draconic features were an exception, rather than a rule. In fact, I had a sneaking suspicion that the Abyssals had more than just dragons and Draconians in their family trees. Sebastian did tell me that there were other Phantasmal Species besides dragons in the past, and some of them could interbreed with humans (such as with Rinne's ancestors), so it was far from impossible that the fruits of such unions were also lumped in with the rest and shunted into the Abyss after the big war with the Celestials.
But I digress. The point I was trying to get at was that wings in particular seemed to be a rarity in the Abyss, mainly constrained to the bloodlines of the Noble Houses. Since they also adopted human infrastructure standards, even if lagging behind Critias by a couple of decades, the average Abyssal had access to trains, public transportation, and there were even locally sourced knockoff cars on the road. They looked pretty old-school, so I figured that their template originals were probably transported in a while ago, while the local Magi's 'live and let live' policy regarding the Abyssal Noble Houses was still in effect. Until Crowy screwed the pooch with Lord Grandpa, but that's beside the point.
Why was I going on this whole tangent? It was to explain how weird warfare in the Abyss was.
First off, nobody had big standing armies, or even military service. It's not that they had no concept of organized warfare, but even if they knew about it through cultural osmosis, it wasn't like the Abyss would be invaded by anyone. While tunnelling through the dimensional barriers allowed Nobles and their entourages to come and go relatively freely, all such channels had a capacity limit, meaning that they couldn't transport armies, so they weren't going to invade anyone either. All of that combined meant maintaining a large military was a waste of money and resources, and since everyone already had their Fauns loyal to their Houses, the Nobles just built their forces around them and called it a day.
Thus, even when there was a conflict between two Noble families, it was decided by a couple of short (if brutal) clashes between their Faun soldiers led by a group of elite retainers. Things rarely escalated past that point, with the core family members only taking action as a last-ditch effort to turn the tide of a losing battle. In other words, for centuries, a 'war' in here was just a codeword for 'violent skirmishes between Nobles that would last for a few weeks before they come to an agreement'.
So, what would happen when this kind of warfare got scaled up to an all-out civil war between all the Abyssal houses? Mayhem, that's what.
Inside the spacious courtyard of a supply depo near the southern shore of the island, a large Faun bellowed, "[Get behind cover and hold your ground!]" from behind the barricade of brown sandbags reaching up to his chest. He was wearing a metal cuirass painted bright red, along with a single lamellar pauldron made of multiple interlocking plates bearing the silver insignia of House Inanna on it. His left horn was broken, and he had an old scar across the bridge of his nose that gave him an especially savage appearance. "[We can't let them take the supplies!]"
"[For Inanna! For the Emperor's Herald!]"
The squad of Fauns behind him thundered in unison, raising their various swords, maces, and axes into the air to hype themselves into a fury, yet their battle-cries were soon drowned out by the roar of a car engine.
They were guarding a storehouse on top of a cliff. The main structure was reminiscent of a medieval castle's tower; a circular base and floor plan with rough grey stone walls, and it even had a crown of rectangular merlons on the top of it. I guessed it might've been some kind of guard-tower before it got repurposed. The main building and the large courtyard in front of it were fenced in by tall brick walls, with the only opening secured by a wrought iron gate. Or at least it was until a vehicle smashed right through it with a deafening boom.
The vehicle was… odd. It looked like an old car right out of a gangster movie, with the large circular front lights and everything, yet it was heavily modified. Since importing things into the Abyss was a rather difficult prospect, owing to the fact that every tunnel required the use of a Mana Well, a lot of the 'modern' tools and machines present were just replicas and iterations of whatever they could get their hands on in the past. Without access to the manufacturing bases and supply chains of the outside world, this occasionally forced them to get rather… creative.
Getting an APC into the Abyss? First, they would've had to somehow smuggle one onto Critias, because that was the only place where they could open a big enough tunnel to squeeze it through, and then they would've had to bring it over, reverse-engineer it, and the less said about things like replacement parts and fuel, the better. So, what if instead of going through all that hassle, they'd just take an old car design they could manufacture at home, bolt a whole lot of steel plates on the chassis, put a thick metal ram at the front, and call it a day?
I imagined that was the thought process that led to the creation of this thing on wheels that would fit right into one of those post-apocalyptic Mental Maximilian movies. After barrelling through the iron gates, the large armoured gangster car was followed by another, and their doors flung open even before they both came to a screeching halt.
"Move, move, move!" somebody bellowed from the inside, and a mixture of Fauns and Abyssals poured out of the vehicles.
The former were sporting melee weapons and immediately rushed the guards of the storehouse, trying to flush them out of their cover. The latter used the doors and the cars chassis as cover and started making elaborate motions with their hands, kind of like as if they suddenly got inspired to do interpretive dance. It wasn't anything so benign though, as their movements were soon followed by shooting off all kinds of colourful magical projectiles at the defenders. At the same time, other Abyssals at the top of the building, half-hidden by the stone merlons, fired back the same way.
Magic missiles of various colours splashed against the metal plates of the cars and the walls of the storehouse, leaving behind smouldering scorch marks in their wake. Someone on the roof attempted to cast a bigger spell, but he was hit by a bolt of fire from the ground and tumbled back, barely saved by their Barrier. Someone else took their place in a heartbeat and fired a hail of smaller magic bullets in the direction of the aforementioned firebolt, his hands moving as if he was wrangling an invisible Tommy Gun.
The situation at the barricades was even more hectic. The attackers outnumbered the defenders, and since the Fauns lacked the Barriers of the Abyssals, a stray magical projectile was enough to take them out of commission. Of course, the same applied to the other side as well, yet they still threw themselves into the thick of it, no doubt hoping that their robust constitution would help them survive.
This was the face of warfare in the Abyss. Less 'meticulously planned and conducted military action by squads of trained troops', and more 'prohibition era gangster raids', complete with magical shootouts. I could kind of understand why things ended up this way though, even without considering the cultural background of the Abyss; both sides were stretched thin, both offensively and defensively. While the coalition of Noble Houses opposing Crowy had a numerical advantage in terms of forces, they weren't exactly a fully united front either. Not only that, but they always needed to hold back some of their elites in case Crowy himself showed up on the battlefield, and with each House unsubtly hoping that someone else would sacrifice their core forces to stop him, the civil war quickly degenerated into this.
That said, not every member of the Abyssal Houses was so cautious, and some were downright eager to take the fight to House Innana.
Without warning, there was a high-pitched cracking sound from above, and the defenders on the roof cried out in horror as a part of the battlement burst into flames. It wasn't from any sort of magic though, and the process soon repeated itself when one of the sandbag barriers caught on fire after a loud crack.
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"Master Chayson is here!" one of the assailants exclaimed in a mixture of excitement and relief, pointing at the sky.
Up there, flying in large circles, was a transformed Abyssal man. He had a pair of large wings, but unlike what one would've expected, they were avian in nature and covered in matte grey feathers. His muscular upper body was practically bare, with only a bandolier set across his chest holding half a dozen bottles, with two slots already empty. Everything under his hips was covered with a thick layer of down-feathers and his legs ended in raptor-like feet topped with sharp talons.
"Press the advantage, men!" he yelled from the sky and took another bottle out of his bandoleer.
It's wasn't just a plain bottle thought, and he subsequently lit the white cloth sticking out of it with a wild gesture of his hand before lobbing the makeshift Molotov cocktail towards the roof of the storehouse. Then another. Was he bad with offensive magic, or did he opt to use incendiary weapons for a reason? I couldn't tell, but the scarred Faun leading the defenders put down his five pennies on the latter option.
"[They're not trying to take the supplies! They want to destroy them! Don't let them get inside!]"
His words fell on deaf ears. Not because nobody wished to listen, but because they were overwhelmed by the attackers. The Abyssals on the roof, in particular, had chosen to retreat from the flames, allowing the winged man to descend without any further obstructions.
"Haha! Serves you right, servants of the false Emperor!" he bellowed from up top and raised his last bottle over his head to signal his triumph.
On closer look, he was surprisingly young; maybe in his early twenties, with short, straight brown hair interspersed with bright red streaks. His forehead had a pair of horns, though they were fairly small and smooth, and he overall had a kind of roguish charm to him.
He looked for an entrance leading into the building, and he soon found the metal trap door used to access the roof. He hefted his last Molotov cocktail with a wicked grin and flipped the door open, ready to toss the bottle in and set the supplies within ablaze… if not for a sudden bright flash from the edge of the horizon.
The red sky of the Abyss was momentarily painted violet as a thick beam of light sheared off about half of the rooftop, without the slightest concern about collateral damage.
"Graaah!" the feathered man roared in pain as he was sent tumbling down, his Barrier barely managing to save his life.
Even though his right hand was covered in burn marks, and much of the feathers of the wing on the same side were sheared away, he somehow still managed to stabilize himself mid-air. His face was pale as a sheet, teeth clenched, and his eyes were glued to the direction where the attack came from.
"He's coming!" His bellow broke the silence that settled on the battlefield in the wake of the devastating magical strike. "Retreat!"
The confusion only lasted for a moment before the assailants rushed back into their cars. The defenders, after overcoming their first shock, prioritized putting out the fires, and as such most of the injured Fauns could be dragged back to the vehicles without any resistance. Meanwhile, the firebrand in the sky somehow got even paler.
"This makes no sense," he muttered to himself, as if in delirium. Considering how burned his arm was, maybe that wasn't too off the mark. "The bastard was supposed to be out north dealing with the Gulas! Why would he be—?"
He never had the opportunity to finish the question. It started with a high-pitched whistling noise, followed by a sudden and inexplicable sonic boom. However, what was even more inexplicable was the way the man in the sky was abruptly knocked down like he just got hit by a freight train in mid-air. He collided right into the side of the already damaged stone building with a flash of light, nearly breaking the wall in the process, and then bounced off and plummeted towards the courtyard.
It said something about his resilience that, even after all of this, he was not only still alive but conscious and aware enough to break his fall. Yet, just as he unsteadily rose to his feet, there was another impact as somebody descended from the sky vertically, complete with a three-point superhero landing and all.
"Master Chayson!" the driver of the closer car cried out in alarm, but the winged Abyssal spat out a mouthful of blood and yelled back at him, his voice filled with outrage.
"I told you to retreat, fool! I'll buy you some time, so go! Live to fight another day!"
"What a boorish sentiment," the man still crouching in the middle of a small crater spoke dryly and stood up tall.
Needless to say, it was Crowy. He was in his Abyssal form, complete with furry goat legs, leathery wings, et all. He was also thrumming with power, his hair and eyes subtly glowing with a churning violet light, making his appearance even more sinister than usual. Unlike the time at the school, when he transformed in an emergency, this time he also had a piece of cloth resembling a black leather vest covering his chest and, lacking better terms to describe it, a large triangular codpiece.
"Do you really think you're a match for me?" the head of House Inanna spoke softly, but with a definitive mocking undertone and flashed an equally derisive smile. "I've heard the third son of House Enlil was hot-blooded, but I never expected you to be such a fool."
"The only fool here is you!" the other man growled back as he took up a haphazard fighting stance. "History will see that, false Herald of a false Emperor!"
"I've heard that line way too many times," Crowy responded with a disinterested voice, his expression that of a cat playing with a helpless mouse. "Can't you come up with something more original?"
"Shut up, Celestial puppet!"
"Heard that one too."
Seeing that the cars were leaving, the young man from House Enlil let out a battle cry and rushed the smug bastard, completely disregarding Fauns and other surviving defenders around him. His image was like the lone hero making a final stand against tyranny, stepping up and putting all that he had on the line, and…
He lasted for a grand total of ten seconds against Crowy. To be fair, that did buy enough time for the cars to get away, but not much of a headway.
"You speak of history," the dark-haired Abyssal spoke nonchalantly with a cruel smile that didn't reach his eyes as he wiped the blood of his downed opponent off his fist. "What will it say about you? A fool, who died without accomplishing anything." He followed that with a sinister chuckle. "No, of course not. You won't even make a footnote."
He pointed two fingers at the defenceless Abyssal and a viscous black power began gathering at his fingertips, poised to end his life as easily as one would snuff out a candle, and…
"Tut, tut, Crowy," I spoke up behind him, making him freeze up. "What did I tell you about collateral damage?"
The previously overbearing man immediately turned on his heel and fell to one knee in front of me.
"Glory to you, my Emperor," he greeted me with practiced words that held no affection or antipathy. It was all theatrical, nothing more.
"You didn't answer my question," I warned him playfully as I walked around him and looked at the man on the ground.
He could no longer keep up his Abyssal form after the beating he received, and so he returned to his human shape. Aside from the transformed bits, he didn't change much, and even his streaked hair was the same. His eyes though looked even more intense than before and he glared at me like he just found the man who kicked his puppy or something.
"With all due respect, my Emperor, he's an enemy combatant," Crowy argued back without looking up, and I shook my head.
"Don't try to rules lawyer me, mister! Who am I supposed to rule over if you keep killing all the named characters!"
"I… what do you mean by 'named'…?" he started but was cut off when the guy on the ground groggily sat up and spat on my foot.
"Kill me, if you dare, Celestial scum!" he shouted feverishly and tried to get up. "Kill me, and I will become yet another martyr to inspire your downfall!"
I looked at my shoes, then back at him, and cocked my head to the side.
"You do realize that I was trying to…?"
"Kill me!" he bellowed, beating his chest with his good hand and… ugh. This was just getting embarrassing.
"You know what? I think this subject of mine needs re-education."
Before Crowy could get a word in, I turned on the physical enhancements of my outfit and grabbed the Enlil guy by the throat. It wasn't easy (or safe) to lift someone by the neck, but if he managed to survive being pummelled into the ground so far, I figured he'd live.
"L-Let me go!"
"Make up your mind, will you?" I grumbled and turned to Crowy, still kneeling next to me. "We'll get back to this once I'm done with this guy, but just to reiterate: no cold-blooded murder. Or hot-blooded. Or any blooded, really." I cocked my head to the side and added, "Seriously, would you believe me when I tell you I'm a benevolent tyrant while I'm standing on the top of a mountain of corpses?" I paused for a second and shook my head. "It was a rhetorical question. Don't answer it."
In the meantime, I wrapped my phantom limbs around the guy and, without any further ado, Phased away with him. Appearing and disappearing like that was part of my chaotic, unpredictable image, and the fact I could show up at anytime, anywhere, was an important factor that ensured that Crowy would think twice before committing a teensy-weensy war crime or two.
More importantly, the moment we reappeared, I put the guy into the wheelchair right in front of me, much to his utter confusion.
"Ah! Emperor Bel is back!" a cheery voice called out from the left, and everyone in the large compound turned my way. Some even cheered.
"Oh! You saved someone again!" a little girl exclaimed as she hobbled over to me with her crutches. She was about ten years old, and I got her out of a collapsed building the other week. Her left leg was broken, but she was fine otherwise.
"Another patient? Ugh! Fine, bring him over!" another Abyssal yelled in the background, a middle-aged man with a wispy beard and a widow's peak. He was a chirurgeon-apothecary, the Abyssal equivalent of a 'generalist' medical doctor, and I picked him up when his office was caught up in a battle between the forces of the Innanas and the Nergals.
Meanwhile, the kid reached my side and inspected our newest 'member' before turning to me again.
"Who's he? Is he important?" she asked with sparkling eyes, not showing a hint of apprehension towards me.
"If you're curious, you can ask him directly, you know?"
"Ah, right! Mister, are you important?" she inquired, her grin revealing a few gaps in her teeth. I really hoped they were just missing baby teeth, but considering she had a whole-ass roof on top of her at one point, it could go either way.
"Wha…? Where are we?"
I could understand why he was so confused. Even without a concussion, things would've been hard to follow. We were currently in the middle of a large camp (or maybe 'enclave' would've been the better word) deep in the northeastern reaches of Ninhursag territory. In front of us, rows and rows of brown military tents I got for cheap from one of those surplus stores, with hundreds of people idling about or socializing around the campfires dotting the area.
We were currently inside a much larger hospital tent filled with foldable cots and whatever medical equipment I could sneakily get my hands upon. Fortunately, while Abyssals weren't as tough as Draconians, and neither did they have healing magics as advanced as the Celestials, serious injuries that required more than a few days of recovery were still rare, so most of the beds here were empty.
Needless to say, between putting all of this together, keeping both Crowy and the other Noble Houses in check, and trying to stealthily (or in this case, not so much) rescue as many people as I could, I had my hands full. It was fulfilling work, but damn, I really could use a break one of these days.
"No, seriously… where are we?"
Seeing that the man in the wheelchair was still waiting for my reply, I stepped forth and gestured for the tall, bandaged man in the back (previously of the assassinous persuasion, right now serving as a nurse) to take our patient to the doctor, though not before I opened my arms wide.
"Welcome to my Axis of Evil!" I declared with practised theatrical flair, eliciting a mixture of chuckles, smiles, and even some good-natured eye-rolls from the onlookers. I also grinned under my mask, and cheekily added, "We have cookies!"