Isla concentrated on her recent visit to Elysium—specifically—the transition point. Still, the task was a mental conundrum with three Underworld generals and their King, breathing down her neck.
She relaxed, liberating her muscles of their tautness. Shutting her eyes, she let the soothing waves of aura sweep across her skin. She ignored the light touches on her armor and hair, instead, she focused on layering the magic.
Each added sheet swelled to a bursting point. One lapse, one distraction and she would lose control. The vibrations tingling her skin strengthened with each passing minute. But she knew, the aura was not enough. If she failed the materialization, the consequences would be massive. No, not massive, 'life as she knew it' ending. She would kill the King of Demons herself. Not a pretty sight.
Despite her reservations, she relinquished her doubts and cast the spell.
A pressure pushed against her, compressing her body. The force persisted, unstoppable and dangerous. Her body cried, her constitution's separation caving without sufficient space.
Yet, a second later, the air shifted and a cool wind soothed her aching self. Sulfur no longer clouded her airways, but receded as a memory. She made it.
"Kill them!" roared a furious voice.
Isla's eyes snapped open, widening. Gods surrounded them. Instinctively, she stepped back, her back brushing the outer balcony's banister.
She materialized Calimitrin and his generals into a defensive ring of Gods. Dammit, they were prepared.
The Demons rushed before her, swords drawn. The two sides launched themselves at one another's throats. Metal clanged, mixing with the grunts of battle. First blood went to the Nobles, their ruthless and powerful attacks knocking their foes backwards.
Only four warriors, but they stood strong, towering over their enemies. The Gods wavered, terror bleaching their faces, stripping their composure.
Instantly, the Demons launched lethal blows, slicing through platinum coated armor and body. Death came swift, but for the unlucky few, pain-filled screams permeated the air.
"Fire!" the enemy commander ordered.
On queue, flaming magical arrows shot from a second row of soldiers. They arched and dropped surrounding Calimitrin's position before her.
She watched as the arrows congregated and rebounded, raining their creators. The attack charred flesh on impact, smoke streaming from their blackened carcasses.
Without delay, their leader roared, "Surround them!" His sword pointed to an opening behind the Demons.
Isla unsheathed her weapon and rushed the spot. She intercepted two enemies head-on, both charged her, slashing. She raised her weapon, blocking their blows, but her knees staggered beneath the weight.
The left one grinned, pushing harder with his wide frame. Isla gritted her teeth and her arms burned.
She crumpled to her knees, sweat dripping down her face. The other God sidestepped, relieving her burden, but prepared to finish her. One moment more, and she poured aura around herself. As his weapon descended, she released her raw magic without an image. With her as the focal point, the shockwave expanded.
The blast pushed both Gods back. Still, they remained steadfast and upright. Giving no pause, they hurried towards her.
Isla pooled aura upon her weapon. The sword hummed and glowed blue.
Mid-motion the Gods slowed, but momentum rung them forward. She defended against their weakened blows. However, resistance disintegrated as their blades severed into two. The free half flew off, nicking her face.
She smirked at their twisted and riled faces. Without hesitation, she lunged forward and slashed downwards on the nearest God. Her weapon sliced into his ivory skinned armor, leaving behind a long bloody gash.
With a pivot, she struck the other God, but her weapon rebounded from his hardened body, deflecting her weapon. The forced reverberated up her arm, numbing it. She retreated a step and tightened her stance.
The God's face twisted into a nasty grin. She narrowed her eyes and amplified her spell. Cocky, but not indestructible.
Applying more aura, she swung again, interrupting his channeling. He threw his arms up, but her blow penetrated the iron like flesh. A long winded scream left his mouth, and he crashed to his knees, his cleaved arms laying before him.
Isla turned, strengthening her grip. Yet, no standing enemies remained.
Calimitrin and his generals finished the last Gods, striking their squirming forms.
"You'll pay for this!" the group's commander cried sprawled across the ground. His hands trembled over a gash tearing his body.
Calimitrin raised his red tinted Zweihänder, the giant weapon descended, splitting the man in two.
And she thought she was cruel? Demons took brutal to a whole other level.
"Secure the corridor. Sinister, prepare the transport," Calimitrin ordered.
He walked towards her, his gaze dangerous and bloodthirsty. His eyes swept to the twitching Gods she fell.
"Wait-"
Her interjection was squelched as he beheaded both men.
Isla clenched her jaw. "Was there a need for that?"
He glared and raised his weapon to her throat. "They die. Do you wish to join them?"
"They follow my father's orders. They have no choice."
Calimitrin grunted. "Orders don't change what a God is."
By his reasoning, how did this make her different? When did such reasoning end. Truth be told, never. But arguing and pushing her point now was silly. Shaking her head, she looked away.
Sinister placed obsidian engraved circlets on the ground. When he finished, he began to chant, his words hushed. Blood floated from self-inflicted wounds, midway through, the liquid shot towards each strategically placed magic circle, connecting them.
A dense crimson smog spun forth from each point. As the spell progressed, the blotches merged, constructing a dark glob restricted by space. The edges fluctuated and appeared frayed. This sight reminded her of the movement sphere connecting Detra and Arcadia, but instead of translucent liquid, this spoke demonic loud and clear.
Hearing grunts and weapon clashes, Isla followed the noise, meeting a corridor swarming with Gods. The two remaining generals blocked the passage. Howls erupted as deciding strikes succeeded, the Demon created clog strong and resolute. Crazed grins and blood splatter warped the Nobles' faces as they slashed away.
Despite their elation, Isla clutched her sword tight and stepped forward. Yet, Calimitrin raised his arm, halting her advance.
"Aren't you going to help them?" Her eyes flickered between him and his men.
"No need." He turned his head towards the portal.
Demons bolted from the portal their weapons unsheathed. Without stropping, they charged their enemies, the generals granting them free reign. The Demons fought uninterrupted, squashing the indecisive Gods.
The generals joined the assault, chasing the retreating forms. Their stampede grew quiet, the remnants of battle slaughtered across the floor.
"The fun has begun," Asterick voiced, drawing Isla's attention towards the portal. He donned his helmet and readied his weapon for combat. He veered from the group, walking to her.
"Asterick, do me a favor, and go with them," Isla asked, motioning at Lance and Varnis' group.
"Why—can't trust my son? He doesn't exactly have my charms, but I've taught the unskilled child how to swing a stick around," he stated, flicking the metal guard of his sword.
"That's not it. I trust his abilities and his word. He's risked his life on multiple occasions, but my father will likely use the child he kidnapped as a shield. If he's not with him, he soon will be. I need someone with your—particular sight—to check the area surrounding his location and see if you can find him."
"I see, of course. You just had to say you'd need my dashing assistance and skillset. Then let our group be off. Timing is everything," Asterick said before waving his hand at Varnis' group. "Come now Arcadian men, we have places to be." He sauntered on ahead, entering the corridor.
Varnis glanced her way and she nodded. "He'll find your way."
"Let's go," Varnis instructed, following Asterick's lead, his men and Lance trailing behind.
Lance paused beside her. "Why did you stick the pest with me?" he muttered before continuing forward. Quiet words drifted on his tail, "Don't die."
Isla smiled then spun around, watching Calimitrin deliver his last orders. The soldiers moved onwards, heading to battle. The remaining group, albeit smaller, stood their ground surrounding the portal.
Calimitrin stalked towards the corridor, his giant sword resting against his armored shoulder. She lagged behind, her vision entranced on his cape's folds. With each step, the heavy fabric rippled.
Will everything end this time?
Would she finally acquire all the missing pieces to the puzzle, and fully understand her father?
Could he even be killed? Maybe his constitution aligned with hers.
Would she die?
Lucifer nudged her side, dispelling her trance. She followed him, walking side by side.
She rubbed her forehead and focused. "Will he run?" she asked while her gaze wandered upon dead Gods and Demons littering their path. The once pristine walls became speckled and shrouded with blood, a mark of her responsibility.
"Depends. In the past, some have. But the losses would be staggering and not once have we failed in our pursuit," Lucifer explained.
A strong gale assaulted their group. Isla squinted against the burst of air pounding their faces. Yet, the potential risk soon ended, the source killed.
Their pace remained steady, her gaze discovering the previous attacker. He lay crumpled in a corner, his throat slit. Blood spilled across his chest, streaking his silver breastplate with only death lounging beside him.
Isla wetted her lips and added, "Have you ever failed?"
"Yes, but a better question is, will we."
A/N: A longer chapter and updated earlier than usual! This starts the first part of the battle.