image [https://i.imgur.com/eY2gF5l.png]

Within the infernal depths of hell, Alpos sat atop the throne. The throne of the Demon God had been replaced with a smaller one, more fitting for him. Before him were pages of notes stacked atop each other, all documents regarding the logistics of running hell.

Alpos appeared weary and exhausted, frustration evident in his eyes. For two long years, he had ruled in the absence of the Supreme Ruler of hell.

Grim and serious, his casual mischievous smile had vanished. The burden of the Demon God's absence took its toll not just on the demons but on the realm itself. The very walls of the throne room were battered, and the torn banners hanging from the ceilings spoke of the unrest within the infernal domain.

Controlling the unruly imps had become incredibly challenging. In the past, Alpos had managed to do so, but now, the fear for their missing ruler kept the demons in line in a way he could never replicate.

With a mighty blow on his throne, Alpos let out his frustration. "Damn it! Where in the hell is he!? Hell is falling apart, and he is nowhere to be found! Has he truly abandoned us...?"

The pages before him were more than just logistics; they detailed the casualties they had faced in recent battles. As Alpos picked up the reports, he whispered under his breath, "Our numbers are dwindling... Our powers are waning... We can't even afford to keep an eye on Michael anymore... Hell is falling apart... I can't do this alone... Traitors... everywhere..."

Letting go of the document, the page falls to the floor with a soft thud. Alpos's eye slightly twitches as he watches the paper descend, a physical manifestation of the strain he's under.

He knew he was overworked; it was evident in the weariness etched on his face and the heaviness in his every movement. The burden of the task before him weighed heavily on his mind. Raising his hand, he rubbed his eyes, seeking to alleviate some of the tension that gnawed at him. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath, attempting to find a moment of respite amidst the turmoil.

"I shouldn't have lied to him... if I were honest, maybe things wouldn't end this way... If only I was capable of stopping that elf and Ifrit back then..."

In a moment of honesty with himself, Alpos acknowledged the choices he had made in the past. He had gone to the gates with the intention of closing them permanently, aware of his master's plans to ascend, a prospect that frightened him. He had wanted to protect the Demon God from changing, but his own hunger for power had compromised his intentions.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Alpos calmed himself down, knowing he couldn't afford to dwell on regrets now. He refocused his attention on the table before him, where numerous documents awaited his perusal.

Among the notes and reports, a peculiar paper caught his eye. It contained information about the human world. Picking up the paper from the stack before him, he skimmed through it, his frustration mounting even further.

"The elves were able to reclaim Tasildor... Apparently, with the aid of the angels, they are attempting to plant a new tree..."

A heavy silence enveloped the throne room as Alpos's hands shook with the weight of the document in his grip. The news struck a nerve.

He had to go out of his way to calm himself down, placing his right hand atop his left. The warmth of his hand gave him the composure he needed to endure the stress that threatened to overwhelm him.

"My nerves... they are getting the better of me... This job is far more difficult than I had imagined... I used to think that he did a bad job in leading, and yet here I sit... driving hell to the brink of destruction..."

Another heavy moment of silence hung in the air as Alpos slowly placed the document back on the table. He rose from his throne, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on him.

Only two guards were stationed within the throne room, his most trusted allies. Alpos commanded them to follow behind him as he made his way across the tattered carpet on the floor.

Stepping out of the throne room, Alpos overlooked the courtyard and the rest of the kingdom. The sight was grim; the fourth sector wall had been breached, leaving the town devoid of life. All their operations there had failed, and the remaining demons had been pulled back to the third sector, desperately defending it tooth and nail.

"It's only a matter of time before we lose this war..."

Alpos began descending the stairs, moving with care as the steps were broken and unstable. The guards followed him vigilantly, their loyalty unwavering in these dire times.

Vorner... It was only a matter of time that he betrayed us... Now working under Grismala and Lady Gray, they are united to bring us to an end... I knew we should never have trusted those filthy humans. my lord, please, forgive me...

Immediately after their master's disappearance, Vorner returned to the holy order, vowing to kill Alpos in the process. However, Alpos, with his cunning and shrewdness, had anticipated the plan and thwarted the assassination attempt. Though the attempt had failed, it left Alpos with a lingering paranoia, leading him to station guards within the throne room.

In contrast, Alpos admired his master's confidence. The Demon God had always been fearless, willing to face any number of enemies, even if it meant defeat. Alpos recognized both the admirable and foolish aspects of his master's character, but he respected the qualities that outweighed the negative ones.

The true events that transpired within the void remained shrouded in mystery. Alpos's knowledge was limited to the fact that his master had gone there and never returned. However, the guilt of his betrayal and the burden of his lies tormented his conscience. He knew his master must be aware of his betrayal, which only added to his mental torment.

One of the guards, observing the unease of their master, dared to voice a troubling suggestion, "Is it possible that our supreme leader has fallen?"

The mere idea struck a raw nerve in Alpos. He couldn't fathom the possibility, and the shock was evident in his widened eyes. Such a suggestion was beyond the realm of consideration.

"Dare not utter such words," Alpos responded firmly, his tone laced with a mix of disbelief and determination.

Realizing his error, the guard promptly bowed his head and apologized for his outburst. The loyalty and respect of the guards were evident, even in the face of the kingdom's precarious state and their master's evident turmoil.

The possibility had already crossed Alpos's mind. However, he knew that if their lord had truly perished, the entire realm of evil would crumble, as it was his magic that still held the place together. Yet, Alpos couldn't shake the feeling that their lord was somewhere out there, alive but making no attempts to contact them.

Climbing the battlements of the first sector, Alpos ascended to the highest proximity tower, following the spiral stairs of the infernal tower, passing torches after torches until they finally reached the top. There, they beheld the view of the barren wastes that stretched beyond the walls.

The sight was horrific. Thousands of demons and humans lay dead in the distance, the flames of destruction scorching buildings within the fourth sector where the wall had been breached on multiple fronts. Yet, despite the chaos, there was an eerie stillness in the dead plains, devoid of any signs of life. The rotting corpses emitted a foul stench, a testament to the brutality of the battles fought.

"How did it even come to this..." Alpos sighed, his gaze fixed on the distant carnage.

"My lord, what if our master needs aid... Should we not send out a search party?" one of the guards ventured to suggest.

Gazing out with longing eyes, Alpos spoke, with a mix of determination and uncertainty, weariness laced within his voice. "Even if we send out a search party, how would we enter? The void gates are closed, and there's no one left alive to open them."

"Is it not plausible that we brute force our way through?" another guard asked.

"With our powers dwindling, we cannot afford to waste them in such a manner," Alpos replied, understanding the risk involved. "I am confident our master is alive, and if he is, we must protect his domain until he returns. It is our infernal duty."

"But do you truly see him returning to us? It's been two years..." the guard pressed, his concern evident.

The imps who served under Arbious were deeply devoted to him. Their grand Demon God had been an inspiration, and his very existence was a symbol of all evil. With him gone, hell was left leaderless and powerless, which had led to the current state of turmoil.

"Regardless of the situation, we must maintain our faith... He will return, and upon his return, we will bask in his glory..."

Alpos's words echoed with determination and hope, resonating with the two guards who left with a newfound sense of purpose. They understood the weight of their current standing and the significance of keeping the faith alive in the absence of their lord.

As the guards departed, Alpos's gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon. The burden of leadership weighed heavily on him, but he refused to succumb to despair. Instead, he clung to the hope that their master would return, and that same hope served as a guiding light amidst the darkness that surrounded them.

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"Please return to us..." he whispered, the words carrying both longing and strength. Alpos knew that the survival of hell rested on their ability to hold the realm together, to weather the storm until their lord's return. His heart ached with the uncertainty, but he refused to waver in his resolve.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7fgH3qs.png]

Within the darkness of a swamp-like lake, hidden amidst withered trees and away from prying eyes, a lone building stood. It was a run-down mansion, gothic in its architecture, serving as the residence of the enigmatic Lady Gray.

Within the building's secure confines, Vorner, Grismala, and herself gathered around a polished round table, forming an unwavering trio entrusted with guiding the wheels of war in favor of both mortals and angels alike. Despite the captivity of Michael, their indomitable spirit rose to the challenge, and their efforts proved instrumental in significantly reducing the demonic presence within the mortal realm.

Garbed in her casual attire, Lady Gray wore a luxurious cloak that allowed her to travel incognito. The cloak held magical properties, enabling her to pass through obstacles with ease, a handy item for someone of her age. Despite being known for her old age, no one truly knew how old she was. She remained shrouded in mystery, and her age seemed to be a well-guarded secret that added to her enigmatic aura. With time, she had managed to keep everything in order, earning the respect and awe of those around her.

Rumors swirled about Lady Gray, with some claiming that she was the hidden force behind the successful war efforts against Alpos. Her behind-the-scenes activities involved pulling strings and deftly maneuvering armies, catching enemies by surprise. She was akin to a masterful generalissimo, one who never made public appearances but influenced the course of events from the shadows.

Then there was Vorner, who had seemingly aged over the years. His face displayed signs of wrinkles, a natural consequence of time passing for a being like him. However, he was conscious of this fact and did his best to hide it publicly. Vorner regularly used moisturizers and potions to cover his dry skin, a symptom of the demonic flames that had merged with his body long ago.

The truth was, only Lady Gray knew of his condition, and it was thanks to her aid that his face was not completely deformed. Vorner deeply appreciated her support, recognizing that he had nowhere else to turn after their master's disappearance. Siding with Alpos would undoubtedly lead to disaster, and he found solace in knowing he had Lady Gray as a confidante and ally.

Lastly, there stood Grismala, the enigmatic Witch Queen of the elves, a figure of both mystery and power. Over the passing years, she had dedicated herself to honing her already impressive skills, delving into the depths of new-found elven magic. Her commitment to mastering these arcane arts led her to practice in utmost secrecy, yet Gray, with his deep understanding of her, always remained aware of her whereabouts and doings.

A formidable warrior in her own right, Grismala's prowess was further elevated by her unparalleled command over magic, a talent that had grown even more potent with time. However, the fate of Tasildor, and the changes it brought to elves worldwide, had not spared her either. The cruel hands of aging had touched her profoundly, leaving her appearance altered significantly. Some even marveled at how she managed to continue existing, for her longevity defied common understanding. Yet, it was her profound connection to magic that sustained her, a lifeline that kept her going despite the ravages of time.

"I must admit, Vorner, your plan worked splendidly," Lady Gray exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm as she gracefully rose from her seat, a glass of wine in hand, ready for a toast to their success.

Vorner, a touch reserved but clearly pleased with the outcome, also stood up, accompanied by Grismala, who reluctantly followed suit, acknowledging their achievements despite their mutual animosity, all out of respect for Lady Gray.

"Indeed, it was a joint effort," Vorner replied, graciously deflecting some of the praise. "Your guidance, Lady Gray, and Grismala's formidable skills were integral to our triumph."

"Hell is now on the brink of destruction, thanks to your relentless efforts, Vorner. Yet, I can't help but wonder about those black flames within you. What will become of you once hell falls?" Grismala spoke, her tone one of suspicion.

A solemn expression briefly crossed Vorner's face, acknowledging the weight of the matter. "I suppose when the time comes, my life will be forfeit. But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make to put things right."

Lady Gray, never one to let the conversation falter, smoothly steered it toward a new topic. "Speaking of mysteries, it is rather strange that Arbious suddenly disappeared, isn't it?"

The trio, taking their respective seats, prepared to engage into a new topic, one that they had purposefully delayed to the end of their meeting. Lady Gray was a masterful at management, and it was this very skill that allowed her to plan things accordingly, even her conversations.

Her words held a sly undertone, as she effortlessly captured their attentions once again. As a natural leader, Lady Gray knew how to keep the group engaged, ensuring that discussions flowed freely and ideas were exchanged.

"Where did you get that name anyway? How do you know the Demon God's name?" Vorner's curiosity interjected, as he sought to understand the source of the information.

"It was from that survivor girl... What's her name..." Lady Gray responded, her demeanor composed, but her mind subtly testing the knowledge that Grismala and Vorner had acquired.

"Her name is Mila. Mila Ashenhaul," Grismala promptly replied, displaying her grasp of the details. "She is an elf of royal descent, and her mother, Aela Ashenhaul, was the one abducted by the holy order for their nefarious experiments. Mila herself is known to have traveled within the void, bravely fighting against the Demon God and miraculously surviving."

"How could she possibly survive such an encounter?" questioned Lady Gray, her concern tinged with a hint of fear. The void was an enigma, shrouded in mystery, and Mila's survival held secrets that intrigued and terrified her in equal measure.

"It appears she is a half-angel," Grismala explained, "a result of the experiments forced upon her. However, her powers were somehow stripped away from her by Arbious. Currently, we have her safely confined in Octavia for questioning."

Octavia, a nation south of Tasildor and west of Elven Crossing, was an elven city boasting exceptional magical prowess. Serving as a formidable fortress, it was well-equipped to fend off any magical invasion, with its strategic location in the mountains making it even more impregnable.

The city's main export centered around its abundant minerals, namely adamantine and silver, found in the rich mountains it sat atop. Adamantine was renowned as one of the strongest materials for forging regular weapons, while silver proved particularly effective against demonic adversaries and even vampires.

"And what of the dwarf that accompanied her? Did he not have the spirit of Ifrit merged with his own?" Gray spoke, concerned by a demon kept in captivity within Octavia. She was well aware of Ifrit's powers, more than she let others believe.

"He does," Grismala confirmed, "and yet Ifrit has not shown any hostility thus far. I am confident they will not pose a future problem."

"I see..."

"What I want to know is about that enigmatic image the photographer released... It was her final photograph before she vanished into hiding, was it not?" Vorner's question reverberated through the room, leaving Grismala and Gray feeling uneasy as they had no answers to offer.

The Photographer possessed astonishing magical abilities, especially in surveillance, which made her an invaluable asset to their cause. However, she had withdrawn into seclusion, refusing to speak after being tasked with finding Arbious' whereabouts.

Initially, the Trio assumed it was just a rebellious phase, as she had been known to throw tantrums in the past. But this time was different; her eyes reflected deep-seated fear. She had borne witness to something so horrifying, so unimaginable that words failed her.

In her final act, she unveiled one last photograph, unlike any before—a picture that portrayed darkness and within the darkness, a lingering flaming eye.

Sensing the tension in the room, Lady Gray rose from her chair, and the others instinctively followed suit. She knew delving deeper into the matter at that moment would only escalate the unease among them. The priority was to gather a report from this Mila girl, not to engage in discussions about a photograph.

"Who will be in charge of gathering information from Mila?" Lady Gray inquired.

Acting promptly, Grismala stepped forward and asserted, "I'll handle the matters in Octavia."

"And you are sure you will succeed? I hear that you have made efforts to heal her?"

"Yes, we were successful in recovering some of her powers. She is a strong girl of that I have no doubt. As for her wings, we've made attempts to reattach them to where they were meant to be. Luckily Arbious did not steal all the magical energies in her, which made the healing process easier."

"So will she be able to fight?"

"Not yet. Her wings will need time to recover properly. Her magical mana capabilities are that of before, yet her tier has dropped. However, with her resilience, this is a mere momentary setback."

"So be it." Gray replied, her eyes turning to Vorner.

"You still have a lot left to do... but I want to assign you to a different task. One more worthy of your time," Lady Gray stated, capturing Vorner's interest.

"Intriguing. What task?" Vorner inquired.

"The recovery of the Orb of Light, the second piece of the original relics. Needless to say, if the worst is yet to come, we must be prepared," Lady Gray explained, emphasizing the importance of the mission.

Gray found herself utterly ignorant of the photograph's meaning, and the very thought terrified her to the core. The image seemed to hold a foreboding secret that she couldn't decipher, adding an unsettling weight to her responsibilities. The notion that the feared Demon God had access to unimaginable powers, lying dormant, sent shivers down her spine.

"Mm... yes, I understand," Vorner replied thoughtfully. "And to that end, I think I might just have a lead."

"Good, it seems like we are on the same page then," Lady Gray affirmed, pleased with Vorner's response, hiding the terror that resonated deep within her at the mention of the Demon God and the photograph.

With a subtle gesture, Lady Gray signaled the end of the meeting, and the Trio proceeded to leave the room, making their way towards the exit. The door creaked open, revealing two carriages and armed escorts waiting for them outside.

Vorner took the initiative to leave first, aware that he still hadn't earned their complete trust. He didn't want to be a burden and knew that sometimes he needed to work independently. As he stepped away, he left Grismala and Lady Gray to discuss matters in secrecy, each of them now focused on their individual roles in the mission ahead.

Grismala, turning to Lady Gray as Vorner departed, couldn't help but express her concerns. "Are you sure you want to trust him?"

Lady Gray sighed, her face solemn as she responded, "I don't trust him completely, Grismala. But he was already investigating the orb's whereabouts even before I asked. My spies have confirmed that. It's better to keep him close and let him know that we are aware of his actions. That way, we can maintain some control over him."

Grismala nodded, understanding the pragmatic approach they had to take, even if it didn't sit well with her. "I get it... We need him alive for now."

"But remember," Lady Gray added firmly, "I would never trust him wholeheartedly. Our safety depends on being cautious."

With an exchange of farewells, Grismala settled into her carriage, feeling weary from their discussions. The carriage started moving, escorted by guards, and Grismala gazed out of the window as they traveled through the eerie swamp.

As the night darkened, her thoughts wandered to Lady Gray's peculiar choice of residence. "I wonder why Gray likes this swamp... Maybe she just prefers it here, but it's such an unsettling place to live in. With her wealth, she could own an entire nation, yet she chooses this..."

"But then again, It's possible some people prefer simplicity over luxury..."

The long discussion had taken its toll on Grismala, and she felt the weight of exhaustion pulling at her eyelids. However, before she succumbed to sleep, she spoke softly, almost a whisper underneath her breath before falling unconscious from exhaustion, "Mila Ashenhaul... I will see you soon..."