Destiny Fractured

Vandrad was not used to such acts of empathy and caring, especially from himself. He’d shown several instances of it in recent months but had only been saved for Mercury, in their most private and intimate moments away from prying eyes. Going out of his way to hug Serilda was a step that even he recognized and yet that didn’t give him pause. Mythal was his adopted brother and that made her, by extension, his future adopted sister. Her pain and fear was as strong as a beacon over the sea, unable to be ignored and seen for miles. He had never seen the woman so shaken but he could feel it, practically infecting his own sense of self. What right did he have to ignore her when he could go out of his way and show her that he understood? Words could have been enough but he didn’t even have the right ones. So rather than stumble over some kind of monologue, he opted for the easiest path… and it seemed to have the effect he meant. She hugged him back tightly and thanked him, her ravaged emotions seeming to calm by a bit. But he couldn’t hold it for long -- it felt too strange. He retreated but the impact remained, which he assumed was a good thing. After a remark to Gren to keep his mouth shut, he led them back to the main room to meet up with Mythal.

Gren quickly explained that Vandrad had ultimately uncovered the truth of Zifu’s royal title, referencing Simon's journey through the poor nation. Despite not being named, Mercury was quick to pick up on exactly who it could have been, which was to be expected -- not like he had any other uncles on his mother’s side. He nodded to her. "Mercury has already witnessed how… aggressive he is in utilizing his charm,” he explained briefly. At least he’d managed to keep his obsessive family away from the Silver Wolf mage for the most part. He attempted to shut down any attempt to give him further nicknames, even as he delivered the water to the Darkness Slayer. Mythal himself made a quip at his expense, which Mercury leapfrogged onto by calling him yet another one of her favorites: Princy-Poo. Vandrad released a noise that was a perfect mixture of a growl and a groan as he glared at Mercury, whose response was to take up her practically reserved position of leaning on his shoulder like some kind of lounge model.

Apparently any kind of serious conversation was going to be saved until the members of the Order returned. Instead, Mercury decided to draw attention to Gren… or rather, more specifically, Gren’s beard. She inquired as to when he was going to grow such elegant facial hair, unabashedly giving him grief while also flirting with Gren. "Tsk, I’ll have you know that I am perfectly capable of growing a beard. I just choose not to -- I shave every day to ensure that my face remains clean,” Vandrad explained irritably, crossing his arms over his chest.

The former Knight chuckled and reached up to stroke his beard. “Truthfully, I used’ta shave all the time too. But afta bein’ dead for so long, I said screw it and just let it grow. I just make sure it doesn’t get anymore ‘mountain man’ than it already is. I’m glad you like it,” Gren thanked Mercury and, surprisingly, did not flirt back with her at all over her comment. Indeed, he simply seemed bemused at the focus put on him in comparison to his son. “Couldn’t hurt to have a little facial hair, Vandrad. I find it makes one look more… distinguished.”

"I tried keeping a mustache for a short time when I was in my twenties for the sake of trying. That satiated my interest enough for the rest of my life,” Vandrad shot down the suggestion.

Serilda was commenting on the water and the whole of the base being rather generic when the man made of light suddenly appeared again, this time simply materializing without all the pomp and circumstance. He simply started talking and drew the attention of the entire room to himself, looking quite smug to have gotten the jump on everyone. Vandrad glanced at the Seal and narrowed his eyes as he took him in. Now that he wasn’t on edge and pinning the Lightbringer to the wall, he could actually consider him fully. He was an odd looking spirit, that much was for sure. The-mask like flesh on his face was curious and even the prince had to admit that he was intrigued to the origin. He and Mythal talked, seemingly burying their feud for the moment in exchange for neutral conversation. The Darkness Slayer figured that Lux would have gone away once more but the Seal insisted that it was in his best interest to be out and at the ready. After all, it was his life on the line too if anything happened to Mythal. And he certainly didn’t seem the least bit interested in fusing together with Faera.

Mythal thanked the Lightbringer for alerting them of the approaching danger and the spirit, in turn, apologized that he wasn’t able to both keep the infection at bay and for waiting almost too long to let them know. Even Vandrad could sense that this was a strange conversation between the two; all that built up hostility that had been hinted at seemed to be missing. But frankly, it made sense considering the situation. Everyone was on edge, feeling anxious and worried and causing spats between a host and his spiritual symbiote wouldn’t make anything better. Yet if Lux hadn’t returned to his hiding place, where had he been? He was quick to answer that he’d never heard of the Order of Souls and, as such, his curiosity was quite piqued. He decided to go and look around their base personally, remarking that he couldn’t rely on technology like Mercury. For some strange reason he addressed her as ‘fourth wheel’, flashing a knowing grin. The Silver Wolf replied in kind, inquiring innocently if he meant her. That was strange -- the entire exchange was odd and Vandrad’s eyes remained narrowed and suspicious. What the hell was he alluding to? Why was Mercury some kind of ‘fourth wheel’?

Whatever that moment was -- and Vandrad would linger on it mentally for quite some time -- Lux moved on, stating that he had gone wandering through the lower levels and found mostly storage. He theorized that this was some kind of temporary base used for agents to come and record findings, or at least that’s what Vandrad assumed he meant. Lux’s lexicon was about as strange as his very existence. Before he could get much further into his theory, the Lusty Titans members returned, with Monica remarking about Lux’s being there. Ruzatz, now quite intrigued, walked up to the Lightbringer and analyzed him. He concluded that it didn’t quite live up to what he had expected, the Prime Sin remarking that he seemed less impressive than the hype gave him credit for. The Seal took offense to this and opened his mouth to retort but found nothing. After several attempts to find something to comment on, he gave up, stating that Ruzatz was too attractive to properly prod. He also stated that they were half-brothers in a sense.

Now that was interesting. They’d already learned today that the Seals were Nephilim, meaning they were equal parts celestial and demonic. By stating that they shared some kind of relation, it meant that Ruzatz had to be one half or the other. So the guildmaster was hiding things about himself as well… It seemed they had joined quite the mixed bag of people. After what was almost a playful exchange, Lux continued his explanation by saying that while others were busy, he had been doing work. Even more interesting was the fact that he seemed to correctly state all the actions of everyone involved. Vandrad probably should have been surprised to hear that some kind of coitus had occurred but considering how the three Lusty Titans members were with one another and everyone else, he seemed unfazed by the news. If anything, he kind of just sneered in derision -- a tense situation like this and those three went and had sex? Somehow, at the thought, his eyes trailed over to Agatha and for the briefest of moments, his imagination tried to spark a devious and severely unwanted image. He shook it away and burned it, refusing to let it put down any roots.

Whatever the case, Lux had discovered some things that had sparked some questions of his own for the Order. "Questions can wait until later. We need to let them focus on finding a counterspell to help with Mythal.”

Lux cocked his head over to Vandrad, as if he was seeing him for the first time. “Listen, Arnold Liftsalot, maybe you missed the memo. I’m the Seal of Light -- I’m a big deal. And I am far more invested in Mythal’s livelihood than you are. So how about you continue to stand there and brood while the adults talk? If I remember correctly, there’s a height requirement for this conversation.”

Vandrad raised a single brow and smirked, an amused look passing over his face. "Sounds like someone is still upset that I manhandled them like they were nothing. What’s the matter -- the big, scary key to Armageddon get his ego bruised?”

Lux’s eyes widened in anger and he stomped over to Vandrad, thrusting a finger up into the prince’s face. “Alright mortal, consider yourself added to the list. Once I -- ack!” In one swift and simple motion, Vandrad had grabbed the Seal’s arm and spun around him, twisting the limb up and behind his back. The prince kicked Lux’s leg out from under him and brought him to a single knee, while wrenching the held arm up at a very painful angle.

Vandrad twisted the arm a bit more, earning a pained yelp from Lux. "People have been surprised that I was able to grab you -- a seemingly impossible task it seems. For the briefest of times, I figured it had something to do with how strong you are. But that isn’t it, is it? No, I think I know your secret…” The prince said with a truly malicious grin, even as he continued to twist the arm. "Maybe a broken arm will humble you and teach you some proper manners.”

And the prince considered following through with his threat. But another voice cut in. “Prince Vandrad, if I may ask you to please release Lux?” Chishan, Zifu and Wanda were there standing in the doorway, having returned from their search. “The situation is stressful enough as it is -- I’d rather not have anyone squaring off with one another.”

Vandrad glanced up at Chishan for a moment before he settled his gaze back on Lux. Then with a disgusted scoff, he released the Lightbringer’s arm. Folding his arms once more over his chest, he watched as the Seal rolled his shoulder and winced. "Next time I won’t be so gentle,” he informed Lux coldly, earning a glare in his direction but no verbal retort.

Instead, the Seal got back to his feet and walked towards Chishan. “So you’re Lux, the Seal of Light.”

“And you’re tall, brawny and mysterious,” Lux retorted, looking over the Master before flicking his eyes Zifu. “Mrs. Tall, Brawny and Mysterious. And…” Lux’s attention stopped on Wanda, his brow furrowing. “Who are you…?”

Wanda opened her mouth to answer but Chishan gave her a small wave, asking her not to answer him. “So long as you’re here to offer assistance with what is happening to Mythal, we have no quarrel with you. I imagine you’d rather not have Faera as a bunkmate.”

“You bet your ass I don’t. So you better have come up with something,” the Lightbringer stated simply.

“We have something. But it’s risky… risky in a way that I don’t like,” Chishan said, his voice lowering near the end of his sentence. His gaze seemed to peel away as well, concern written over his face.

"Any tactic is better than standing around waiting for the worst,” Vandrad said. "So let’s hear it.”

Chishan glanced back at Zifu, who gave him a reassuring nod, before he turned and faced the group. “As we suspected, Faera is invoking a spell to merge her soul with Mythal’s. Essentially it is weakening his body and spirit and soon enough it will start to drain his memory until there’s almost nothing left. Then she will absorb it and gain access to his magic, his abilities and, by extension, you,” Chishan said, nodding to Lux. “The first problem we’re facing is simple to diagnose but not easy to correct. She is using the power that Mythal stole from her as an access point into him, recreating the connection that she had with it back almost twenty years ago. Through that portal, she is using her own magic to complete the ritual from inside him. It’s… almost like a telepathic link but arguably more potent. So what we know is that we have to cut off that connection… that means we need to purge Mythal of that magic he stole from Faera all those years ago.”

“Purge… you want to make him magicless?” Gren asked, openly concerned.

Zifu shook her head. “Not at all. We would just be removing his God Slaying abilities from him, cutting him off from the infected magic. Based on our readings, he would still have access to the other magic he has managed to assimilate, as it is wholly based on a different darkness.”

“But you will be substantially weakened. There’s also the fact that your body has grown accustomed to a certain level of magic and has grown with your abilities. Suddenly removing that will cause physical malfunctions in ways that we… can’t properly guesstimate. It could be as simple as you have flu-like symptoms for some weeks before your body adjusts or it could completely incapacitate you, removing your abilities to ever walk again. There’s also the chance that it could just kill you -- with your genetics being half celestial, your bodily makeup is going to react to this kind of operation more drastically than a regular human’s would. But there is a way around this -- one that won’t endanger you after the fact. Truthfully, it may even make you stronger.”

Zifu waved her hand in front of her and brought forth a… large, glowing tear, by the look of it. It was carved out of some kind of gem and carved intricately to look like a droplet. It emanated with a strange power, multitudes of colors swirling within the container. “This is the Nocturn’s Embrace lacrima, one of our rarest relics. It has been with our order for generations, a magical construct with a tragic history. We’ve held onto it because it is a true symbol of our goal -- protecting the innocent from the strong and savage monsters of the world. It has the capability to make one the ultimate hunter of the supernatural. Before now, no one has contained the strength to carry it and so it has stayed in our vaults.”

“But with your magical power level, Mythal… you could wield it. Adding into the fact that it, too, contains the essence of darkness, making the merging of it within your body a much simpler and safer task. The only downside is that, legend has it, it will bestow upon the user great power to slay the wicked creatures of the world for all time. If our research is to be believed, it’ll make you immortal. From the moment it connects to your body and is accepted, you’ll stop aging completely.”

“Some might consider that a blessing but it comes with the heavy burden of possibly outliving your loved ones. But mind you, it doesn’t make you invulnerable; you can still be killed. You’ll just never die of old age.” Zifu followed up as she continued to hold the lacrima just above her open palm.

Chishan scratched the back of his head carefully. “Counting that you agree to that, unfortunately matters only get more complicated from there. To safely install this lacrima, there are requirements. We have to be in one of the darkest places in all of Earthland which, luckily, we have a spot in the Cursed Lands -- the Silent Cemetery. But we also can’t have any of our defensive sigils up or it could affect the bonding of the lacrima. Which means--”

“Which means that Faera’s ritual will go back to its normal speed…” Gren said softly.

Chishan nodded. “Chances are she’s increased her efforts so we’d be dealing with an even more compounded spell upon Mythal. We’d have maybe minutes at most before he was gone and the ritual to instill this lacrima is going to take at least half an hour if we use the bare minimum of magical power. At face value, we would have no chance. But apparently Doctor Wanda took some of Serilda’s words to heart...” As his words petered out, he looked over at Wanda.

The doctor stepped forward and raised a single finger. “Indeed. I came up with a solution that can both save Director Ragnos as well as give us an opportunity to catch Faera unawares and bring about her end. You see, one of my magics allows me to create psychic bonds, allowing me, or others, to enter a person’s psyche. This is greatly advantageous when I am helping patients that have suffered certain mental trauma. But it’ll also allow me passage to Director Ragnos’ spirit, the one that is being targeted by Faera. The spell that she is using requires her to manifest within the body as a psychic link so, in essence, her own spirit is now within the body of Director Ragnos.”

"Gross…” Monica remarked softly.

“Yes but if we send a team into that same psyche, we have the chance to surprise her and destroy her. If her spirit is defeated there, then there will be nothing left in Kingdom Darkness but an empty husk, thereby bringing her reign of terror to an end. Even just sending someone inside to interrupt her will slow the progress of her ritual, granting us more time to complete the infusion of the lacrima.” The good doctor gave a nod at the end, showing her commitment to her plan.

“But that isn’t without its risks either. Doctor Wanda would only be able to send two people into Mythal’s psyche. And likewise, if Faera kills you there, your soul will never return to your body. There’s also the fact that if we fail to kill her while she’s inside Mythal’s psyche, once the lacrima is installed, that connection will be gone. But all that magic that Mythal has cultivated over the years, the magic he stole from her and empowered himself, will go back to her. She maybe won’t be able to take Mythal’s body and soul but she’ll get all that power, increasing her power to limits I don’t think we can even measure. But at least if we manage to save Mythal, we can worry about killing Faera later.”

“The good news is that we can increase the speed in which the infusion works by adding more magical power to the ritual. So if we were to go with this plan, two people would be sent into Mythal’s psyche, three of us would stand guard at our ritual site and the rest could use their magic to help hasten the installation. The guards would simply be there in case any prowling creatures happened by and decided to investigate.”

“We’re not worried about Faera’s forces tracking us down and trying to interrupt us -- by the time they got there, we’d already completed our ritual. We just need to ensure that none of the other grisly beasts of the Cursed Lands get too curious or hungry.” Chishan took a deep breath as he looked at the faces of the group, considering each one as much as he was sure they were considering his. “We know it’s not a perfect plan. It’s a lot of risk but there usually is with big payoffs. I’m not happy with it, I don’t like it and if we had time to spare, I would suggest we keep looking. But we don’t have the benefit of time on our hands. And truthfully, whatever other method we came up with could be more complicated and require more materials. Plus this has the added benefit of giving us a shot at stopping Faera once and for all.” The Master settled his gaze on Serilda. “It’s not the same as storming Kingdom Darkness but… if you still want to go and kick her teeth in, here’s your chance.”

“But ultimately it is Mythal’s decision. Because the only other quick solution we could come up with was… well… keeping Mythal’s soul from falling into Faera’s hands. Not a choice we can make either nor would we suggest it. We’re just presenting facts, be they nice or not.”

There was a lot of information going through the room, passed mostly by Chishan and Zifu. The Master of the Order and his wife had discovered the spell being used and, in doing so, had figured out some kind of a game plan. But their strategy was not without their issues nor was it going to be safe for any or all involved. Chishan broke down each step that needed to be taken, the first being that they needed to remove the infected magic from Mythal’s body. The prince wore a grim look on his face at the mention of that, his eyes narrowing very slightly. He, of all people, knew very well that removing magic was a dangerous method -- in fact, it was treated as a punishment in Bellum. Criminals of the highest degree were exhibited to a procedure that either cut off their access to their magic or simply removed it completely and stored it into a lacrima, depending on the severity of their crime. It was a punishment that often resulted in the swift death of those put through it, if not by the resulting side effects then by the other Bellum people who saw the magicless as subhuman. It wasn’t an easy task and not a result that Vandrad would wish on the worst of his enemies -- though frankly, he did imagine how far it would knock Louie down.

Luckily -- or perhaps unluckily -- it wasn’t going to rob Mythal completely of magic, it was just removing one certain type. Yet even that carried danger; considering how strong the Darkness Slayer had made his magic, removing it suddenly would cause his body to suffer a multitude of side effects. Something Vandrad already knew very well, still pertaining to the prisoners. Though none of them had the strength that Mythal seemed to, the human body still suffered magical withdrawal and often resulted in several side effects, including death. But Zifu and Chishan didn’t intend to leave Mythal with such a dangerous chance; they had come up with a solution that would not only save him but bolster his power as well. The queen presented a tear-shaped lacrima, brimming with ancient power, and explained what it was. Apparently it was some kind of idolized relic from the Order’s vaults, demanding strength from any that would seek to have it placed in their bodies. A high demand but it seemed that Mythal’s strength level matched the requirements, according to Chishan. The only downside to him taking it on was that it would apparently make him immortal, which was an odd thing to consider a bad side effect. Though even Vandrad supposed that not being able to age would get tiresome over time.

But it didn’t seem to bother Mythal. In fact, he and Serilda shared a moment between one another, a look that seemed to come with a sense of relief or that’s what it felt like to his senses. Did that mean that she… was immortal as well? Had this been something that had been weighing them down for some time? He could imagine that if that were the case, hearing that Mythal would join her in immortality was quite the load off their shoulders. They intended to marry and, by deduction, start a family but if one was meant to live forever and the other wasn’t, there was the weight of losing that someone later down the line. Somehow his eyes turned slowly to Mercury, though only viewing her out of the corner of his eyes. The truth of the matter was that he was in the same boat -- or rather had been, when Mythal wasn’t about to reach immortality. He would eventually age and die of natural causes. During his very many questions he’d put forth to Mercury about her race, the subject of how long they usually lived for had come up. And it far exceeded the lifespan of a normal human such as him. There would come a time when he would die out and she would continue on for several hundred more years. In the grand scheme of things, he was truly just a momentary figure in the vast length of her survivability. He wasn’t sure why but that twisted his stomach into odd knots. The worst part was that he was entirely certain of the ‘why’.

All of Chishan’s explanation and planning was only for step one; therein followed the next step, which was significantly more complicated. Apparently they couldn’t just do the ritual in here, within the safety area of the defensive sigils. It required that they travel to the Silent Cemetery in the Cursed Lands and they couldn’t put up any magic to slow Faera’s ritual down. With the goddess no doubt increasing her efforts, Mythal had only moments before he was overwhelmed and overtaken. Yet even that had its solution, one that offered an interesting opportunity. Doctor Wanda stepped forward and informed everyone that another part of her magic allowed her to form direct lines to people’s psyches. Utilizing this, she believed she could send people’s spirits into Mythal and, since Faera’s own spirit was the driving force behind the infection, they could confront her. Not only would they be able to either slow or stop the ritual from inside, they would have a shot at taking down Faera for good. Vandrad had to admit that the plan was more than a solution -- it seemed to be exactly what was needed to handle the goddess’ threat for good. It came with risks; only two people could go inside at once and if Faera managed to kill any of the two inside, their bodies would simply continue to exist as empty husks. Worse yet was that not succeeding in killing her would result in her reabsorbing her stolen magic at its current strength, making her an even larger threat down the line. That wasn’t ideal but frankly, if they simply managed to save Mythal and get everyone out alive, solving the problem of an empowered Faera could come later.

Zifu also believed that with all the present party, they could knock down a couple minutes on the lengthy ritual, thereby increasing their chances of coming out successful. She came up with a rudimentary plan for stations; two people would be put into Mythal through Wanda’s magic, three people would act as protectors of the ritual site and the rest would be actively taking part in the ritual. It seemed the act of playing bodyguard was simply against the wild creatures that roamed the Cursed Lands rather than against Faera’s forces. He glanced at Mercury as she turned to look at him, silently looking for his input on where they would be set up. Considering she had no desire to face Faera directly -- and who could blame her -- as well as the fact that she actively sought to keep people from knowing she used magic, playing the part of guards seemed the most viable option. Beating up monsters was something they were self-proclaimed masters of. He gave her a soft nod to her before focusing back up, willing to wait until the end to announce where he and the Silver Wolf mage stood.

Chishan knew that it was a high risk, high reward plan and admitted he didn’t like it. But they were out of options and any attempt to search further could potentially put Mythal in a more compromising position. It was what they had and it was up to the Darkness Slayer to agree to it, as the only other option was self sacrifice. Though the Order insisted they would never ask such a thing from him, Serilda informed the rest of the room that it was a discussion they’d already had before. They both understood the consequences of Faera trying to take him over and were in agreement to stop it if all options were exhausted. Lux verified just how serious the Field Marshall was in her stance that she would be the one to put Mythal down should things sour. It was quite the noble dedication, one that Vandrad wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. Would he willingly take the life of someone he cared about so that the rest of the world, possibly even reality, could survive? He honestly didn’t know.

Serilda sought input from Ruzatz, stating that he was the one that understood Faera better than anyone present. Yet another clue about the odd clown to his real nature, with the prince now more than certain that he was either god or demon. He believed that their options were limited to none, certain that Faera had increased her efforts to break through their defenses. But he also theorized that they could truly take her by surprise, as they had two things on their side she didn’t expect. The Order of Souls and Serilda. She didn’t take the Field Marshall seriously, seeing her more as an insulting mortal worthy of disposal and then forgotten about. She most likely laid some kind of trap for Serilda by using two people called Ruman and Izrael, posting them in places where they could be found. But he didn’t think that Faera would expect a hard defensive line suddenly flipping on her and putting her on her heels. He believed they should take their options and offered the services of his wives as well. The tattooed woman was a Hell Demon Slayer, which was interesting to note. But perhaps more interesting was the reveal that Agatha was ‘his Hand’, whatever that was. It was a lofty title, one that carried an unknown weight as Vandrad didn’t truly understand what it entailed. Either way, he was sure that the three of them would be huge benefits to the cause.

Finally the attention fell on Mythal, the man who would ultimately decide their plan of action. Unsurprisingly, the man wasn’t pleased with the idea of people having to put their lives on the line for him. But he understood the logic and reason behind the scheme and rationalized that wasting a shot at Faera was an utter waste. So he was in agreement, which was to be expected. Vandrad didn’t claim to know Mythal better than anyone else but he seemed the kind that was unwilling to back down from a fight, especially one as big as this. Gren spoke up, insisting that if they were following through, then he would be Serilda’s second in going into his psyche. Mythal tried to protest but the former Knight shot it down, insisting that this was far more personal than simply acting as a partner for the Field Marshall. Faera had targeted him and killed him and now that he was back, he had been biding his time until he got a chance to get to Faera.

That should have been the end of the discussion but then again, Vandrad hadn’t forgotten that Lux had insisted he had questions for the Order. And now that the plan was laid out, he took his opportunity to proclaim his excitement for the plan -- though a bit mockingly -- before he returned back to his intent to put forth some inquiries. And then his mood darkened as he asked about something called an Ataxian shard and the entire room seemed to skid to a halt. Zifu, who had been stoic and calm the entire time they’d been there, snapped at the Seal, her anger obvious as she realized that their vaults had been broken into. Lux didn’t back down, demanding to know about the relic he’d found and it seemed the two were about to scream back and forth at one another. It was Chishan who cut off the argument, yelling with enough strength that the room shook. An impressive amount of magic power came off of him right then, his own agitation evident and sure enough to bring the arguing to a full stop.

Mythal asked the question on probably everyone’s mind; what was an Ataxian shard. Chishan sighed and revealed that they were relics that they lacked a proper explanation for. They couldn’t be measured in the conventional sense so there was no telling how strong they were. But he listed off two legends about them, one involving them being remnants of reality’s beginning and the other making them out to be pieces of a goddess’ power that had been ripped from her. They were dangerous weapons in the wrong hands and Lux informed them all that they possessed the shard of Might, which apparently granted the holder omnipotent strength. They could easily reshape reality through force if they so desired. But Chishan explained that the shard was inert and had been since they discovered it. Their solution to handling it was to lock it away deep, so that no one could get their hands on it.

Lux didn’t like that and demanded to know what others they had. The Master stated they didn’t have anymore and Mythal confirmed that he was telling the truth. Still ruffled, the Seal seethingly told Chishan that the shard didn’t belong in his hands and the Master countered by saying they didn’t belong in gods and demons hands either. In fact, Chishan believed they should be left to their own devices without anyone ever finding them or using them. If their power was as great as they made it sound, Vandrad was of the mind to agree. Strangely, it was Mercury who spoke up then, asking if the shards were related to Ataxia, another Divine. How she knew about any of that was beyond him currently and he turned to look at her as the fear once more welled up inside of her, her asking quietly if the goddess was real.

The Seal scoffed dismissively. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch there, skinsuit. Ataxia was locked away a long time ago and I mean locked away. She’s so down deep between realities that she may as well be a myth. The shards are merely named after her because of their strength. A gross homage, if you will.” The Lightbringer didn’t seem all that worried, practically pushing the idea of Ataxia to the side completely. But something told Vandrad that Mercury knew more than she was letting on, surprisingly having more knowledge about the situation than he figured.

Zifu, who had collected herself, rounded up everyone’s attention to the task at hand. They had their plan and she revealed that not only was Mythal benefitting from immortality but he would finally be able to produce children. Mythal was the one who questioned the statement but it seemed everyone in the room was just as struck by confusion as he was. The queen seemed surprised that he hadn’t known about the curse and when he revealed he hadn’t, she got flustered and apologized that she had spoken about the matter so publicly. Chishan revealed the source of said curse, explaining that Faera had implanted it in her stolen magic before she was ousted from Mythal many years ago. She apparently didn’t want him siring children with her stolen goods so she made sure he could never procreate. But once they exchanged magics, he would be fertile once more. That was a pretty big benefit as far as Vandrad was concerned but one that didn’t directly interest him at the moment. Plus it seemed like a more personal matter for Mythal and Serilda so the prince decided to turn the attention back onto the plan.

"Mercury and I will act as the guards for the ritual. We’re better at killing monsters than we are at rituals,” Vandrad stated.

Chishan nodded. “I’ll act as your third. I’ll be able to use my contracted spirits to add to our numbers just in case. Zifu will act as the main beacon of the ritual and Wanda will monitor vitals.” He turned his attention to the Lusty Titans members. “It would be beneficial if you three helped Zifu with the ritual. Considering your magical strengths, I think you’ll make the difference in the timing we need.”

"Glad to help, handsome,” Monica said with a smirk.

“Ruzatz… Thank you, for helping us. All three of you.” He offered a grateful, genuine smile before he chuckled. “I’ll admit, I’m glad to have found out which of your members is your Hand. Though I’m hardly surprised -- legend says that the Hand is the most beautiful and stunning person entrusted to your inner circle. Hit that nail right on the head. Honestly just figuring out one of those roles helps a lot -- the only knowledge we’d managed to discover was that Arthas, one of Wrath’s lackeys, has been active recently. We think he’s trying to locate someone suitable to be his new Sword. How about that?”

“Yeah…” Ruzatz said, chuckling softly before clearing his throat. “How about that…”

Vandrad was ready to get things moving. Many times it had been said that time was of the essence and they were running out of it with every passing second. And yet somehow, they kept focusing on other conversations coming up and getting distracted from the entire purpose of being there. Frankly he wasn’t sure why he cared anymore than the rest of them -- if Mythal wasn’t chomping at the bit to get people moving, why should he? Probably because Gren was right there and looked about as antsy as he was. Then again, he also understood that the sudden reveal of Mythal’s virility was a bit of a shock. Even more shocking was when Serilda admitted it was incredible to hear the curse was being removed but that it didn’t matter anyways. All of them had to bear witness to her truth as she admitted that she was barren so the chances of the couple having children in the first place were slim to none.

It was a bit heartbreaking, even for the prince. He understood, on the same level as Zifu and Serilda, what it meant to be able to bear an heir. Noble lines were always strict upon the sons and daughters carrying on the family name and to lack the ability was such a black mark. Though he doubted that the Sinclairs had shamed Serilda about it, there was no doubt some nobles that had taken a few cheapshots at her -- there always were. He was a bit in the same boat; he was almost forty and hadn’t sired an heir yet and hadn’t honestly put that much thought into it. Though his mother was understanding to a point, he knew she wanted a grandchild to celebrate and care for. Perhaps someday but not anytime soon.

To her credit, Zifu apologized for revealing the information without a second thought. The Field Marshall conveyed some words of comfort, understanding that the queen certainly hadn’t known and her intentions were of sound mind. Though she seemed to have a larger stick up her ass than Vandrad did, she was repetenent for this remark, at the very least. And sensing it was time to move on, it was the prince who brought up where he and Mercury would set up. Chishan decided to join with them, rounding out their group and then some -- apparently he had access to spirits that could join the fray as well. The members of the Lusty Titans would work with Zifu on the ritual and with that, they had their battle plan. Chishan thanked Ruzatz, Agatha and Monica for their help, taking time to idly and uselessly remark about Agatha’s beauty once more. A truly inconsequential comment, especially because anyone with eyes could see how breathtaking she was. That inner comment caused Vandrad to pause and shake his head, ridding himself of such a silly notion. After that, Chishan remarked about the knowledge of Agatha being Ruzatz’ hand, that odd title coming up yet again. The Master mused about the lack of knowledge about other gods and demons, save for some lackey named Arthas who worked for Wrath. He was apparently looking for someone to be his Sword.

And like that, all the pieces clicked into place for Vandrad. Wrath as a high level demon it seemed and his vassal, the person he relied on to do his work, was called his Sword. That meant that Ruzatz, with Agatha as his Hand, was some kind of high level demon as well. Based on one being called Wrath, he deduced that the red-headed clown must have been Lust, solely concluded by his antics and mannerisms. Tying that in together with Lux calling him a half-brother and it made perfect sense. So Mythal and Serilda were close with a demon lord and his entourage of sex-obsessed women. Honestly, the notion that the Rune Knights might be swingers crept back up again, even if Mythal had vehemently denied it. Vandrad was a bit satisfied that he had put two and two together finally when Serilda spoke up, looking shocked and awed as she stared at Chishan and Zifu. The way she stared, it was as if she had expected something else to be said and found nothing coming from it. Of course her reaction was so obvious and palpable that she couldn’t easily dismiss it and move on. If she truly wanted to, he had no doubt that she would but it seemed she opted to open up about her confusion rather than shut it down.

And it was quite the weighty explanation. She revealed that Arthas was a pseudonym that Ozorith, Wrath, operated under. It allowed him to travel without drawing attention while he sought out someone to become his Sword -- a task he had already completed. She pulled out one of her swords, the blade blade resonating with an evil magic that infected the very room they stood in. Vandrad looked it over quietly, feeling its strange power bouncing off of his senses like an odor he couldn’t quite shake. Ozorith had noticed Serilda and targeted her, trying to win her to his side. Yet she had turned him down time and time again… until she finally reached a breaking point. She’d learned that her former husband had simply been using her for physical satisfaction, having no love in him for her and had even gone ahead and stole from her family for his own gain. A truly despicable person if there ever was one and there was nothing Vandrad despised more than people that sought power by stealing it and lying to achieve it. It was cowardice in its barest form and he had very little pity over the fact that the man was dead.

But she’d learned that right in the midst of a rift with Mythal -- that was an interesting development. In all honesty, Vandrad had expected that the argument they all had seen that evening was their first spat. The reactions from both of them had seemingly gone about that way, if his previous history with arguments was any testament to that. Yet that seemed false, as the Darkness Slayer had been avoiding Serilda for some time for reasons that were left unsaid. Out of all the discoveries he’d had all day, that was the one he was most curious about. Mythal certainly didn’t seem to be the social butterfly but outright ignoring the Field Marshall seemed tactless, downright rude, things that he didn’t really embody. Then again, the Darkness Slayer had said several times that the person he was before meeting Serilda hadn’t exactly been the most upstanding of people. Perhaps this was a minor regression, a setback that dropped him into his old ways until something shook him out of it. And Serilda provided just that answer when, after interacting with Hugo’s ghost, she went on a bender.

Vandrad never understood why people turned to alcohol when life got rough. He enjoyed drinking every so often but he never did it extensively or to the point that he lost control of himself. But he knew that several people, especially former members of the Bellum army, relied on the drink to bury the nightmares and haunted memories that plagued them. To him, it always seemed like a stopgap -- a temporary reprieve that never stopped the bleeding but merely hid it. He was of the mind that, should one experience trauma, they should strive to overcome it and prove that trauma beyond who they once were. But even the prince understood that tragedy and trauma never truly went away -- they remained in the  back of the mind, just waiting for a low moment to pounce and bring back the pain. His grandmother resurfaced for him during those times but even then, he never thought to grab a bottle and drink his cares away. Yet, even he understood that he was a bit of an oddity when it came to emotional baggage.

Mythal had come to help Serilda during her bender, tending to her until she was able to sleep it off. But when the morning came, the Darkness Slayer was gone, leaving only a note that provided a goodbye along with an admission of his feelings for her. Serilda had surmised based on the context clues that he was going to Kingdom Darkness, most likely to take on Faera. And though she sought to stop him before he got there, she found herself too late and the man was gone. Once more she was left without answers or direction, the weight of her strength not being enough pressing down on her. And in that terrifying moment, she remembered Ozorith’s offer. So it seemed that when things hit a wall and Serilda couldn’t find a way out, she resorted to drastic, often dangerous measures. Vandrad could see the pattern, linking her choice with Wrath to the one she had almost made that very night. It was dangerous for a leader to resort to such foolhardy notions when things got rough… but then again, these were extreme circumstances.

She hadn’t agreed to taking the position right away -- she wanted to learn as much about it as possible before she signed. But it seemed they both understood what choice she was going to make, even after hearing whatever sacrifices and obligations she would have to attend to. She needed the power to save Mythal but even more than that, she needed the God Slaying abilities to fight Faera, when and if she showed an opening to be struck. Vandrad supposed that it was around this time that Serilda and Mythal had had their discussion about him being taken over and what she would have to do. It made sense, considering her words, and he couldn’t help but respect the two of them more for it. It was a hard road to consider and they had not only talked about it but decided on what they would do when push came to shove.

After Serilda agreed, Ozorith took her to Frostbane, his kingdom, and gave her the powers that came from becoming his Sword. Power and immortality were the perks but there was a glazing over of the eyes that hinted at something more… painful. Vandrad watched as Serilda relived the memory, an anxiousness rising in her chest as she remembered how the demon lord had taken advantage of her. He couldn’t quite tell the depth of the trauma but it was enough that Vandrad sensed it was something physically violating. For a stoic woman like Serilda to take any kind of physical abuse without lashing out and raining pain down was… well, a miracle in the worst kind of way. She understood, even then, that she had to be willing to take any punishment for her sacrifice, so that she could get to Mythal. And once she had been transformed, he had dropped her off at Lusty Titans and from there, Ruzatz had been the one to send her to Kingdom Darkness.

Serilda had revealed all of her story because she thought that the Order of Souls had already known. Given the looks on their face, they very clearly did not. Zifu’s nostrils flared and her head tilted slightly, the look of a regal about to dress down a person right in front of them. It was a look he knew quite well, given his upbringing, and prepared himself for the verbal lashing that would surely be heading the Field Marshal’s way. Yet he was sure that it wouldn’t pass without comment or retribution; Serilda had no reason to tell them anything and yet, she had taken a big step and revealed to them a part of her recent past that clearly she had no pride in. Trying to denounce her pain and trauma and chiding her would go about as well as flicking a bull on the nose and expecting it to stay cowed.

But perhaps the shock of the night -- and that was saying something -- was that Zifu simply let the air blow out through her mouth and she settled herself, choosing to take the higher road rather than resort to what came naturally. Rather than chastise Serilda, she simply stated that it was in their best interest to hurry along with their plan, so that Ozorith didn’t discover the location of their base or recover any information from them through Serilda. She desperately wanted nothing to do with the Prime Sin of Wrath, a lofty title that spoke of where Ozorith stood in the demon hierarchy. Chishan’s approach was much softer and earnest, thanking her for entrusting them with the information. He wasn’t pleased by the notion that Ozorith had named his Sword but if he had to pick anyone to take on the task, Serilda would be it. He was amused at the idea of the demon trying to give Serilda orders and expected her to oblige him without question, frankly a humor that Vandrad shared himself.

So it seemed Serilda’s big reveal didn’t have the massive effect that one might have expected but that simply may have been that the situation they were already in was far more paramount and dangerous. Chishan gave them another brief rundown of what to expect when they teleported to the Silent Cemetery, with Gren and Serilda being instantly put inside Mythal to stop the progression of Faera’s ritual. The rest would take up their chosen positions. When asked where he would be, Lux stated that he would remain outside, wanting to ensure that their side of the ritual went off without a hitch. There was a good chance he wanted to remain on this plane because he didn’t trust the Order, especially after learning that they had an Ataxian shard in their possession. Chishan dismissed the criticism and brought up his hand, creating a series of different lights on his flesh. Magic rushed from him and the lights moved away from his body and to the ground before him, crafting three equal circles of color. From the shapes emerged humanoid-looking beings, the spirits that he had referenced before.

They each had their own quirks about them. The one on the far left looked like a tribal warrior or monk of some kind, with elegant tribal tattoos on his chest and face. He wore a simple skirt that seemed more fitting for a full gi than to be paired with a bare chest. The woman next to him was dressed like an actual circus entertainer, with a large tophat and clown-like makeup. She sported a corset that clung to her so tightly it was probably one wrong move from breaking. And the last man wore a ragged, worn pair of shorts and held a silver spear in his hand. Shirtless as well, it seemed his tattoos had been inked with actual silver, glowing and refracting the light with every move he made. It seemed their group of misfits continued to grow and each addition was just as strange, if not stranger, than the last. Chishan introduced them as Mamet, Ursula and Banner -- demi-gods that held positions over different elements.

"You just have hotties on call whenever you want? That is ridiculous and I’m a little jealous,” Monica said, eyeing each spirit individually. Her gaze met Mamet’s, a playful naughtiness twinkling in her eye as she shared an unspoken conversation with him.

For some odd reason, the woman was eyeing him heavily. He noticed some slight movement in her gaze and glanced over to realize that she was also checking out Mercury. Yet another person who couldn’t control their mojo for five minutes and had to make googly eyes at other pretty people in the room. At the very least, Banner took the time to bow his head and properly greet the group before asking if they had a mission. Upon confirmation, the other two spirits asked what they would be paid for their duties and their implied stares seemed to hint at something deviant. Vandrad scoffed softly and scowled, unwilling to even ponder the possibility of sex being a form of payment for duties they should naturally follow. They had contracts after all.

Chishan decided they each should take ten minutes to get themselves prepared for the coming battle. Mercury used this as an opportunity to use the bathroom, telling him not to leave without her. After a firm smack on his ass, which earned her a growl and a scowl all at once, she was  gone. That was an odd decision -- considering she usually saved those kinds of things for later. But then again, he wasn’t all that surprised. During when Zifu had been considering ridiculing Serilda in front of everyone, he had sensed a sharp emotional rise in the Silver Wolf mage. It was a similar feeling from the one he’d felt from her in Bellum, when she had been introduced and generally around Sabine. It was a desire to throw dirt in the eye, to spite someone and make them look foolish. Worse, it was a need to punish the accused, placing them on a list that didn’t mean sunshine and rainbows for the targeted person. Zifu had annoyed Mercury and though she hadn’t completely put herself above everyone else, the intent had been there originally. That meant in her natural state, she most likely looked down upon other people and treated that as such. Mercury didn’t abide that and generally sought to kick down the pedestal and watch the people fall.

So no doubt she was going to do something foolhardy and stupid. But then again, he could hardly blame her. Zifu needed to be knocked down a peg and the Silver Wolf mage was just the right person to gather the pieces to do that without being noticed. “I’m gonna hit the head too, just in case,” he explained as he exited as well. Vandrad’s gaze followed after his father when suddenly another head popped into his vision -- that of Monica.

"Any chance I could slap your ass for luck as well?” she asked with a grin.

"What? Absolutely not. What an outrageous question,” Vandrad hissed at her, scoffing and turning his attention away.

"Aw c’mon, muscles. We’re about to go on a life or death mission and there’s no tellin’ if we’ll make it back. The least you could do is let me get a small feel. Mercury says it is just as tight as it looks.”

"Tsk, of course she did…” the prince grumbled. Why wasn’t he surprised? This woman seemed to lack all of the delicate and proper natures that a person should normally have -- meaning she was almost exactly like the Silver Wolf mage in every regard.

Monica stepped in and lowered her voice, her smile worming into something more impish. "She also said you know how to give a real hard poundin’. And let’s just say that this party is very interested in learnin’ about that first hand.”

Vandrad glanced back at her, taking a moment to slowly look her down and then back up. "Wouldn’t you like to know?” And with that, he walked away from her and over to Serilda and Mythal, taking the walk to let himself calm down and take a breath. "Don’t worry -- Mercury and I will ensure nothing gets near the site. You have my word,” he told the couple, looking between them. "Are you prepared?”

Meanwhile, down the hall, Gren was leaning up against the wall outside the door to the bathroom. He had posted himself there and waited until the person inside came out, revealing herself to be Mercury. She offered him the open door to the bathroom, remarking about his looks, and he gave her a wry grin. “Actually I came out here to talk to you, Mercury,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and falling into step beside her. “I wanted to thank you for givin’ Vandrad and I some time to talk. Considerin’ everythin’ goin’ on, I was afraid he’d think I’d forgotten about him. I just hope you weren’t too bored.” And as he said that, a playful, almost raunchy glimmer passed in his eye and showed on his smirk. It was clear that he suspected where she had gone during the time he and Vandrad had been connecting and he was amused by it.

“But really, Van spoke a lot about you -- how much you helped him after he got to Fiore. He may not say it outright but he thinks rather highly of ya. I was hopin’, if we manage to get through this, if you would mind havin’ coffee with me. I’d like to get to know ya a little better. You seem like quite the interestin’ woman and if my son likes ya so much, I imagine I will too.” He made it quite clear that he simply wanted to learn more about Mercury on a personal level. His mannerisms, his tone, everything was earnest in the genuine curiosity of a father in a woman that his son had been spending time with. He had absolutely no other reason to be suspicious of her and he made that quite obvious. As he flashed her an innocent but charming smile, something that the former Knight was very well known for, he continued. “Plus I’m sure if you’ve been helpin’ Vandrad for so long, you gotta lot of questions for me too. Seems only fair I give some to you as well.”

Vandrad had no idea how long Mercury was going to take… doing whatever it was she was doing. He had little doubt that, if she didn’t really need to use the bathroom, she would make a show of it. But no doubt she was up to something nefarious as a means of getting more information and knocking Zifu down a peg. Honestly, Vandrad didn’t feel that Chishan quite deserved that -- besides the secrets, he had been a welcoming, honest individual who seemingly was in this place for the right reasons. His wife, well, the jury was still out on that. The prince wouldn’t automatically assume that she was going to be doing anything to cause further problems but it seemed her ego got the best of her more often than she cared to admit. He could only wonder if these instances had been the few times she’d actually tried to reel herself back without Chishan’s interruption.

But Mercury would do her thing and Vandrad kind of figured that she would wait around to chat with Gren as well. She had been just as curious about finding him by the end of things and there was little doubt that she had questions for him. That and she had already expressed her flirtatious mannerisms to him to no avail. Such lack of progress would probably call for a second try on her part. So rather than wait around, Vandrad went over to Mythal and Serilda, wanting to check in on them. He’d been so focused on meeting his father that he hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to his adoptive brother since they arrived. He ventured to ask how prepared they felt, to which Serilda replied about as much as they could be, considering. The situation wasn’t something one could feasibly predict and plan for but she was certain that all of the benefits they had going for them would result in success. Whether or not it would result in Faera’s death was something else entirely and if she did manage to escape, she would take them far more seriously the next time around. Mythal didn’t really enjoy that thought but he accepted that as long as they came out with some kind of victory, it counted. Vandrad nodded. "Agreed. It’s a two-pronged victory. One has to be assured -- your survival. The other is attainable but if we miss, we regroup and plan for next time.”

Serilda spoke up once more, apologizing to himself and Mercury in spirit for pulling them into the situation. They had never planned on putting any of the burden on either of them but they were grateful that they were so willing to help. Mythal voiced a similar sentiment, appreciating the fact that they could have left without issue but chose to stay. He claimed he would find a way to repay them for their actions. The prince waved his hand simply. "Not necessary. The two of you arranged it so that I finally got to meet my father and get to know him. That carries a price I could ever hope to repay. Besides, you are family -- and the one thing that was drilled into my head from birth was that family sticks together. Mercury may not consider you family but you are friends and trustworthy allies. Though I won’t lie and say we didn’t consider leaving but then where would you be without us?” Yet another moment where Vandrad decided to make a joke, smirking.

Serilda followed him up, explaining that she understood that Gren coming along with her was less than ideal. She believed his heart and spirit was in the right place but she was concerned with his magic power level. She didn’t know if he had any secret strength prepared for this exact scenario but nonetheless, she took a moment to address them each and reaffirmed her goal to do everything she could to keep him safe. She would strive to bring him home, so that they could all make up the lost time they had lost with one another. Vandrad nodded once more. "I appreciate it, Serilda. With you there, I have little doubt you both will pull off the impossible.” If he hadn’t figured that before, he did now after feeling just how strong Serilda was. Faera truly had no idea what was coming her way.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Gren had decided to give Mercury some focus. Truthfully, he already knew that Vandrad had been spending time with her based on his own research and the Sorcerer Magazine that had done an exclusive on them. And he’d gone through actually introducing himself to her earlier but that wasn’t really proper enough. His focus had been so heavily on Vandrad and finally getting to meet him that he merely had been polite rather than earnest. After hearing about how much she had helped the prince -- and drawing his own conclusions about their relationship -- he decided to go straight to the source and learn more about her. So he waited outside the bathroom for her and surprised her when she came out, though the surprise was more over the fact that he had come there exclusively to talk to her. She raised a brow at him and admitted that if she’d known about his intentions, she would have gone out of her way to pay him the same treatment. Her mannerisms and tones were all heavily flirtatious, grinning and even giving him a wink. She reminded him of a much more contained Monica, which was amusing to see in action. “Well, with everything going as it has, it’s been a bit of a challenge to talk to anyone really. But don’t worry, I was happy to take up the charge and initiate a deeper conversation.”

And to start that line of conversation, he wanted to first thank her for giving him and Vandrad time to actually meet and talk. Considering she only really knew Mythal and Serilda and they had been focusing on their own stuff, she’d allowed the prince to leave her alone so that he could go spend the better half of an hour or so talking with the former Knight. Though, ‘alone’, wasn’t exactly what he figured she had been for the front half of that and gave her a knowing and cheeky grin of his own. It wasn’t his place to judge what Mercury liked to do in her spare time and considering that Vandrad was adamant that they were only partners, then the Silver Wolf mage probably felt the same way on the surface. She grinned back at him and simply gave him a rundown of her time spent, which were filled with double entendres like crazy. Besides, she said, she understood that the conversation was meant for father and son alone. She had no intention of getting in the way of anyone and simply remained because Vandrad had asked her to, seeing as she wasn’t family to anyone present. She also insisted she was simply there to look good and get ‘Vandaddy’ out of whack, ensuring that he didn’t get all rigid and stoic. “Well, you’ve certainly managed to succeed in that,” he remarked but didn’t clarify. Was he talking about standing around and looking pretty, paying her a flirty compliment? Was he talking about her job of stick-remover for Vandrad? He simply shook his head. “Vandaddy. Now I see what he was talkin’ about with nicknames.”

But his second reason for seeking her out was to invite her out for some coffee for a little ‘getting to know you’ meet up. Vandrad had spoken highly of her -- in his own kind of way -- and the former Knight was quite interested in learning more about the mysterious mage from Silver Wolf. She admitted that she was always full of questions and that getting her a cup of coffee gave him free access to get to know her as much as he desired. There was literally no mistaking her insinuation there, a forward comment that even Monica would, and had, put forth to him. He chuckled softly. “I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he said simply, once more daringly dodging the flirt while also managing to draw attention to it without a response. He was always awfully good at that, amused by the flirtations that came his way every so often but never truly responding back in kind. Though he never really thought about it, it must have driven people like Mercury and Monica insane -- though maybe that just made them that much more determined.

Mercury continued, explaining that Vandrad had simply learned to tolerate Mercury rather than outright enjoy her presence. She called herself a thorn in his side and that she enjoyed keeping him off balance, taking great joy in how he grunted and steamed at her, claiming that he must have enjoyed it to a point because he hadn’t booted her out yet -- despite trying. She insisted she wasn’t that hard to get rid of, flashing another grin before she sobered up and admitted she was happy to help, even if the meeting hadn’t happened as perfectly as they hoped. She’d seen how eager Vandrad was to have this meeting, theorizing that he’d been looking forward to it even longer than she had been alive. She noted his rigid personality but also said he was a good man and friend. She was just simply there to observe and , as she put it, see what the prince would look like if he grew facial hair, lamenting the fact that he refused to grow it. Vandrad chuckled once more. “You may see yerself as a fly on the wall but you helped get ‘im here. So family or not, I’m in your debt for helping this come together. Perhaps I can repay you by tryin’ to convince him to sport a little facial hair, give him a distinguished look. I can’t imagine you could think of anythin’ else to cash in on.” There it was again, another semi-flirtatious comment that bordered right on the line of playful and serious. His eyes twinkled with the same tone, making the words even more playful. It was as if he knew that he was teasing her.

They were just about back to the room when Mercury slid her arm onto his, boldly placing herself at his side. She insisted that the only way he was going to have coffee with her was if he survived. So she practically demanded he don’t die before she got a chance to give him the Vandrad treatment. She was sure that the heartbreak of being stood up would absolutely devastate her. “Well, it would be rude to hurt the lady in such a way then. I guess I’ll have to do my hardest to survive.” As they rounded the corner, they came strolling in as if he was escorting her to a formal function, which was probably quite the entertaining sight. Vandrad glanced back and rolled his eyes, unimpressed and unsurprised before focusing back forward. Monica gawked and gave Mercury a teasing, damning look while mouthing obscenities, quite jealous of her being even that close to the former Knight. “Good luck,” and then, once he was sure Vandrad wasn’t looking at them anymore, he reached down and gave her just the slightest pat on the ass, like one teammate encouraging the other. He truly couldn’t help himself and flashed a devilish smirk not unlike Vandrad’s as he peeled away from her.

With everything said and done, it was finally time to move forward with the plan. Chishan spoke up, delivering a speech that was somehow simple, direct and moving all at the same time. He addressed them honestly and earnestly, wanting each of them to understand what was at stake there. And in the end, while he spoke eloquently about stopping gods and demons from making toys out of humanity, he said there was only one true goal that night -- keeping Mythal alive. He, as a person, didn’t care if Faera got away and they missed their shot to bring her down. The only victory that mattered was cutting the goddess off from Mythal and saving his life. If they succeeded in that, then they could call the mission a success. He wanted everyone to bring their A game, to put forth all of their effort to that one goal. He admitted he knew that several of them didn’t trust him personally but he did return that trust to them fully. He had faith in all of them and that faith knew they would come out victorious.

Ruzatz was clearly quite impressed with the speech and Monica followed up with her own adoration, stating that she had a first crack at the Master for the celebration afterward. Surprisingly, it was Agatha who spoke up and remarked about her wife needing to get in line and the tattooed woman grinned. "My place is always behind you, babe,” she remarked, leaning over to give the woman a soft kiss. Vandrad rolled his eyes once more, trying not to groan too loudly. Already they were making plans for celebration before they’d even begun. He understood the importance of having faith in a mission and keeping the spirit positive but outlining a celebration was asinine and assumptive. It was that kind of attitude that caused people to make arrogant mistakes. And seriously, a ‘sex’ celebration? These Lusty Titans members were a breed all their own.

Chishan summoned Serilda and Gren together as Zifu made two new beds beside Mythal, asking them to lie down. The engaged couple shared a moment with one another, holding each other and whispering their emotions as a means of good luck. Even the prince couldn’t help but feel slightly moved by the scene, understanding the absolute heaviness of the plan finally moving forward. Then, once the two had taken their places, Wanda came forward and gave Mythal a rundown of what was about to happen and asked if Mythal was prepared for what was to come. He was as ready as he could be and with one last look to Serilda, the doctor put him under. Serilda sought out Lux one final time, seeking to know if he could be trusted. A right earned question and Vandrad’s gaze turned over to the Seal, as did everyone else’s. The Lightbringer lamented having to trust the strangers to keep Mythal -- and himself -- alive but after a moment, he rather solidly stated that he would make sure the Darkness Slayer survived. In this, she could trust him fully. Then all at once, they were preparing to teleport. Zifu prepped the spell while Wanda went around and created the links for Gren and Serilda to transport them into Mythal’s psyche. The tension in the air rose as the reality of what was happening came down upon everyone, given only a simple countdown to clench their guts and make peace with themselves or whatever creators they believed in.

Then all at once, they were swallowed up by light, the sensation bright but soft upon the flesh. Darkness followed the flash but the kind of darkness that came with nighttime. Vandrad’s senses spread out, feeling out the immediate area for any kind of danger that might have been lurking. As Zifu produced flames from her hand and lit several candles around the graveyard, the prince’s gaze turned in each direction to try and spy any kind of prowling menace that may have nested or was hunting nearby. Luckily there were none and the ritual spot was clear of interruption. Chishan spoke up and Wanda confirmed that Serilda and Gren had been successfully transmitted into Mythal’s mind, leaving their bodies as limp and defenseless as his was. A quick cursory glance over at them revealed this truth, with the Field Marshall and former Knight looking like they were sleeping. Then all at once, Vandrad turned his attention away, putting his focus on his part of the mission. Zifu gathered the Lusty Titans members after laying the lacrima on Mythal’s chest, preparing to start their side of the ritual. Chishan summoned his spirits to him, using their powers to empower his own form as he took up his place that he’d strategized for the three of them.

Before he could even start moving, he found Mercury’s hand on his shoulder. He glanced back at it and her, finding her expression serious and genuinely soft. She was armed and ready but she clearly wanted him to know how serious she was taking the situation. She was there to stand by his side, as she always had, and wouldn’t back down from their roles. Whatever nerves had been boiling beneath the surface for the prince slowly started to settle, having found substance in her small action to cling to. Deciding to show he was just as sure, he flashed her a shadowed but still confident smirk and reached down with his other hand to give her ass a firm but substantially hard smack, ironically on the opposite cheek that Gren had touched. It was his way of thanking her in a way that she may have done so in a less serious situation, wanting to alleviate some of the tension in both of them. It was just like any other monster hunting mission and there was no reason to fret over that.

Standing around, waiting for danger, wasn’t in Vandrad’s normal routine. But frankly, for the moment, it was something he could easily subscribe to. The less interruptions this ritual had, the  better. Slowly his gaze looked over the treeline, seconds seeming to tick by like minutes. Despite the sounds of the crickets and animals far off in the distance, it was eerily quiet. His hands flexed slowly, magic gently coursing through his veins in preparation. His mind was empty, the prince forcibly disallowing any strange or unnecessary thoughts to distract him. He glanced over at Chishan, who was slowly pacing in his spot, his gaze outward as well. A quick glance to Mercury found her in her position as well, the prince’s eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than he expected.

Then he was moving his attention forward, ready to act as the stalwart and silent guard. But something occurred to him as his focus went ahead and away from his other two guards. The crickets had all fallen silent. The sounds of branches and brush being broken, stepped on, moved through, had all come to a deadstop. It was as if all sounds had come to a stop, in view of something demanding their attention and silence. That was concerning. “Chishan!”

Vandrad spun around, as did the rest of the group, to see why Wanda was suddenly calling out. Her voice was laced with shock and fear, two emotions that had seemingly been lacking from the woman up until that moment. But the moment that they all turned their collective attention to her, it was quite easy to see what had caused her such distress. There stood Mythal, upon his bed, eyes still closed but fully upright. His head hung low over his chest, masking his features but it was obvious he was still out.

“M-Mythal?” the Master stammered out, confused.

His head lifted slightly to the sound of his name. Vandrad watched as the Director released all the breath from his lungs, his chest expanding outwards. Then as he inhaled, his head started to lift slowly. From all around them the air began to peel inwards towards the Darkness Slayer, magical power of such intensity filling the area that bolts of dark lightning crackled. Vandrad felt something pulling on him, as would everyone else and a cursory glance downwards would see what the source of that was. Their shadows, the unliving markers of their existence against the light, were being ripped from their very forms. In fact, darkness from all around them was surging inwards towards Mythal, spiraling around him wildly and creating a tornado of pitch as it funneled into him. His magical presence grew higher, the full release of his strength coming out for all to see and feel. And it was terrifying -- it was on par with Serilda’s outburst from earlier but carrying such a menacing feeling to it that goosebumps would pop up on everyone’s flesh. The darkness started to overwhelm Mythal, covering his entire body in shadow. But already they’d be able to see his skin cracking, breaking apart and revealing something beneath. The black magic surged down over his head and expanded out to craft long, bushy hair that hung down to his knees. The Darkness Slayer’s skin on his face broke apart and another face came through, one that was far more terrifying than that of the original owner.

For a brief moment, the entirety of Mythal’s body was clouded in shadow before the funneling of magic finished. Then the cocoon, the film of darkness that had covered his body to aid in his transformation, was gone. Every shadow within the graveyard and beyond, even the very darkness of the night, was gone. The candles somehow burned a bit brighter as the pressure of the night’s shadows had been wiped away, ripped mercilessly from existence by the Darkness Slayer. And there he stood, a dark shadow of the Mythal they all knew. His features had hardened and cracks still remained on his flesh, as if the features were some kind of mask. Long, shaggy hair hung behind him and framed his frowning, frightening face. The rest of his body had somehow gotten leaner; a lot of Mythal’s former muscle mass lightened for a slimmer form.

But the worst part was the dread. The air was filled with an evil weight that pressed down on all of them, demanding their attention and their fear. Even with his eyes still closed, there was something piercing about his very existence that bore through a person’s flesh and squeezed on the spirit that made them whole. Even Vandrad felt it but, what Mercury would notice, was this wasn’t just fear. Something else was hurting him and as he reached up, his hand shaking visibly, to touch his head, she would know that the prince was fighting against the madness. The same overwhelming rage that had taken him over and nearly forced him to kill Louie.

It had all gone wrong. The plan had been fully flipped on its head. Doctor Wanda knew this and, pushing through her own fear, shook herself out of her trance and dashed for Serilda and Gren. “Wanda, no!” Chishan yelled, already trying to move to stop her.

“I have to get them out! They could be in danger!” she cried, reaching out for Serilda first, the closest of the two.

"Idiot woman! You need--” But that was all Vandrad would get out, somehow able to push through the rage to try and stop her verbally. But before the doctor could even get her hand on Serilda, a flash of steel and darkness ripped through the air, passing right through Wanda’s neck. In an instant her head popped up and flew away from its former home, as her body crumpled to the ground. Mythal’s arm had moved faster than any of them could have seen and it now hung out and away from him, a nodachi of enormous size held tight in his fingers.

Vandrad watched as the transformed Mythal’s head cocked slightly, looking down at both Gren and Serilda. He knew exactly what was coming in his bones and magical energy surged through him in panic, teleporting him from his spot to directly in front of the swinging blade as it came down upon the two unconscious bodies. His arms flew up to block the attack, defensive magic piling onto his forearms to protect him from the sharp edge. And to his credit, he did manage to keep the sword from slicing his hands right off of his arms. But Mythal turned with his swing and powered through the prince’s defenses, sending Vandrad flying away at such an intense speed, it was almost like he had teleported again. But it would be evident he hadn’t as the trees that lived just outside the boundaries of the cemetery suddenly exploded, the top halves of the trunks popping off and crumbling to the ground below. Not only had Mythal sent Vandrad flying through the woods but he had mowed down an entire fourth of the trees with one simple swing of his blade.

Mythal seemed to look in the direction of where Vandrad had teleported to, though his eyes were still closed. Then slowly his head started to look downward towards Gren and Serilda once more. This time it was Chishan who charged forward, an aura of flame and rock about him as he slammed a fist into Mythal’s side. “It’s too late! Faera has control of him!” he cried before falling silent, realizing that his punch had done any damage to the Darkness King. In fact, it had barely moved the man’s head. But the hit was registered, as Mythal decided to counter attack and ran his blade through Chishan’s abdomen, piercing his flesh easily. The Master gasped in agony, pain and shock registering on his face before he released a pulse of fire, sending himself flying back and removing himself from being impaled. He slid on the ground, a hand going to his wound as he looked up at Mythal.

The awakened Dark Mythal seemed to stare back at the Master before its brow furrowed slightly. Its attention turned back in the direction of the decimated forest, where a bright golden aura was quickly building up. There stood Vandrad, blood gushing down his head and over his face. He growled as he enabled his Empowerment, pushing it to its absolute limits. His hair flashed gold and then began to expand, rolling down over his neck and towards his back. It grew in length and width, the large spikes brimming with magical power as they came to formation just behind his ass. The now long-haired Vandrad roared as he completed his transformation and shot forward, instantly vaporizing the tree remnants that had been gathered around him. He came rocketing in and fully tackled Mythal, lifting the Darkness Slayer from his spot and carrying him out and past the graveyard. Together they slammed into the trees, once more devastating the terrain as Vandrad pushed back off of Mythal and kicked him down into the torn stumps, causing the earth to explode in a cloud of dirt and mud.

It was Zifu who spoke up then. “This is something else, Chishan. This isn’t Faera -- not completely. We haven’t lost our window. Everyone, we need to keep up the ritual. Mercury, grab the tablet from Wanda’s… from Wanda. We need to make sure that Mythal hasn’t been overtaken.” the queen barked orders, despite the fear that was rife in her voice and body. “We just need to hold this Mythal back until we’ve completed the ritual!”

Chishan nodded softly, standing to his feet. A stone slab slid over his wound on both sides, sealing it shut for the moment. He leapt over the fence of the graveyard and ran over to where Vandrad had landed on the ground, the prince breathing haphazardly. “You good?”

"Not at all. But I don’t have the luxury of worrying about myself right now,” Vandrad hissed, wiping stray blood that had tried to get into his eye.

The smoke cleared and revealed Dark Mythal, standing on the impacted ground as if nothing had happened. Curiously he turned his head down towards the lacrima, still pinned to his body. He reached up with a hand and grabbed it, trying to remove it from him. But he found it unmoving, partially absorbed into his flesh, the ritual still in place. "What the hell are we looking at?” Vandrad asked.

“I’m not sure. But we can’t let it get to either the ritual group or Serilda and Gren. The three of us are going to have to keep him back.”

"What a joy,” the prince said, wincing as another sensation of rage ripped through his mind. He looked to Chishan and Mercury. "I can play defense. You two keep your distance and peg him with ranged spells. Maybe we can wear him down enough to knock him out.”

Dark Mythal’s attention turned back up to look at the trio, now squaring off against him. He twisted the massive sword in his hand and brought it forward, pointing it directly at the group. It was a callout, a challenge…

"Cocky bastard,” Vandrad growled as his aura ignited once more. He shot forward at the dark shadow of Mythal, yelling the entire way as he sought to keep the man’s attention on him. The hit he had suffered had been tremendous and the prince believed that it was only a fraction of Mythal’s power. He could play defense but he wasn’t sure for how long.

Or frankly, if he would even survive it.

“Oh no.”

Lux hadn’t honestly been expecting much while waiting on the outside of Mythal’s mind. While he talked a big game about wanting to make sure the Order of Souls did their part right, he highly doubted they were going to screw anything up. If anything, they seemed to understand the mechanics of the ritual and were quite prepared to counter it. He just didn’t like the idea of going back inside where all the darkness was. And if Faera already had a primary control over Mythal, there was the chance she could have gained control of him too if he appeared. That would complicate things. So he’d opted to remain on the exterior, a position that had earned him a direct and heartfelt question from Serilda.. She had wanted to know if she could trust him to protect Mythal’s body, no matter what came. And though it left her wide open to manipulation or mockery, the Lightbringer had dropped his guard momentarily and spoke to her on the level.

He had his moments, after all. And she was right -- protecting Mythal came out of a place of self preservation. If nothing happened to the Darkness King, then nothing happened to him. It was really as simple as that. And there was no reason to think that Serilda wasn’t going to keep up her end of the bargain and keep Faera back. The love of her life literally depended on that. With that drama and serious considerations all set, a few of them had talked a bunch of nonsense and then they had all teleported out into the night, into some creepy cemetery. Lux had automatically been transported with the Darkness Slayer’s body, though he seemed to shift a bit more seamlessly than most of them. Except the woman with the purple hair -- she did it without that much of an issue. Maybe a light magic user? That was fun.

They started their incantations and Lux tried not to yawn as he floated up into the air and set himself into a comfortable position. He idly glanced around at everyone taking their places, taking note of where they went but not really caring. It wasn’t until he noticed Mythal standing that his concern actually rose. Everyone else noticed it too and when one of them -- Chishan was his name? -- said his name, the Rune Knight inhaled sharply. As he did, he summoned all the darkness cast by shadows and the night to him, empowering his form into a state that Lux had seen only once before. The same terrifying persona that had come out when Victoria had pushed Mythal to his limits.

All at once things started to happen quickly. One of the women tried to move in to cancel the ritual but her head was instantly lopped off as Mythal swung his sword into existence. He took aim at Serilda -- an act very surprising to Lux -- before the beefy man appeared and took the brunt of the attack, soaring out into the distance and leveling the eastern tree line with both his body and the aftereffects of the slash. Then the Chishan guy rushed in and got himself a sword through his abdomen for his troubles, managing to push himself off before Mythal cut him clean in half.

Then the beefy one came back in, now glowing gold for some reason, and tackled Mythal, dragging him past the cemetery and into the woods, clearing another set of foliage. All at once the dark woman stated that this wasn’t Faera, it had to be something else. They just had to focus on the ritual and they would be fine. “Yeah, no shit it’s not Faera. This is some kind of other Mythal that lives inside of him. I’ve seen it before. He gets real destructive, real angry. He’s like a… Dark… Mythal.. thing,” Lux explained haphazardly. What an absolutely terrible time for Mythal’s darker, more grumpy half to come out and run loose. How could things get any worse?

Well they weren’t yet but Vandrad’s brain was practically sizzling on a frying pain of anger. Not only was his own natural rage burning through his veins from the plan taking a complete three-sixty but the unnatural power was attempting to pull him down and overtake him, once more brought on by an enormous amount of power. The prince was more than well away that Mythal had God Slaying abilities, meaning that a portion of his magic was based within the realm of the gods. He’d never experienced a full dose of it and, as such, it had never affected him before. But now the Darkness Slayer was fuming at full power, bristling with strength unfathomable to the normal mind. And the strange force was invigorated by it, clawing at his mind to give up control. He could feel it behind his eyes, like claws raking against the inside of his skull. Yet he pushed on, focusing in on Mythal, refusing to let his instincts be deafened or beaten by an alien force he didn’t ask for.

Twenty eight minutes. Mercury had grabbed the datapad in Wanda’s hand and checked to see the details of the ritual and Mythal’s vitals. Apparently Faera’s ritual was still going, slowed by the intrusion by Serilda and Gren but not stopped. That meant that she was most likely pushing them back, putting them on the defensive while she unloaded her celestial rage upon them. This was the absolute worst outcome and they hadn’t even considered it in the first place! He glanced back to see Mercury drop an orb on the ground near the rest of the group and, from it, a shield of green light covered the cemetery. She’d put up a shield -- he couldn’t help the small smirk that came to his face, in spite of everything. Smart woman, as always. Once she joined Chishan and himself, he barked orders to them to hang back and pepper the Lux-titled ‘Dark Mythal’ with magic from afar. And then he rushed in, fist cocked back, keeping the man’s attention on him. Vandrad managed to dodge the first swipe at his head, bending backwards before he wrenched his entire body forward, slamming his forehead against Mythal’s. The Darkness Slayer was unmoved by it but he did flinch in annoyance. Another sword swing came at the prince and he managed to get his arms and magical defenses up to keep himself from being split but he was, once more, sent flying.

The Dark Mythal started to take a step but stopped as bullets impacted his limbs, finding purchase in his flesh. He winced in annoyance as a dull pain ran through his veins. A strange magic, unknown to him, unknown to any on the planes beyond humanity, had impacted him and even managed to wound him. Darkness poured out from the wounds almost instantly after they were made, quickly healing the holes but still catching Dark Mythal’s attention. Eyes still closed, he turned to face where Mercury was, now intent on wiping out the source of the annoyance. The heels of his feet lifted and suddenly he was rocketing upwards, sword coming into position. But from the side came a flaming rock, slamming into Dark Mythal and carrying him away from Mercury. The flaming rock, hurled by Chishan, carried a couple of yards through the air before a flash of steel ripped through it and tore it into two even pieces, the remnants falling past and under Dark Mythal’s form.

Once more his lidded gaze faced towards Mercury but before he could move, Vandrad was soaring up to him. The prince kneed him in the back, using his physical strength and the inertia from his flight to bend the Darkness Slayer a bit backwards. Vandrad wrapped a single arm around Mythal’s neck and twisted his whole body backwards, spiraling both of them through the air before Vandrad released his captive and sent him into the ground with a thunderous crash. Magic energy fueled into his palms and soon he was pumping his limbs forward, unleashing a barrage of explosive magic blasts into the ground where Mythal had landed. "Hit him with everything!” he cried over his attacks, calling Chishan and Mercury to attack at the same time. The Master of the Order summoned a plume of fire from his fists and shot it into the exploding area, adding his flames the devastation. Smoke and energy swirled into multiple explosions as the surface was glassed to ash and char from the detonations continually igniting. Vandrad pulled back an arm, piling a substantial amount of energy into his hand before throwing it down into the fire, adding a larger explosion to the group and compounding upon the damage.

As the explosion died down, a massive plume of smoke billowed out from the sizable crater. Vandrad panted softly, taking deep breaths to refill his lungs and absorb more of the ethernano in the air. He was about to start descending when something thing and black burst out from the smoke and came right at him. His magical shields were still up but Vandrad was horrified when the ebony arrow passed right by his defensives and stabbed through the prince’s left shoulder. He exclaimed in pain as the arrow remained embedded in his body, the magic burning into his flesh and fueling the rage deep inside even further. As the smoke cleared below, he caught sight of Dark Mythal standing in the center of the crater, seemingly undamaged from the volley of attacks that had fallen upon him.

“So little strength,” Mythal said but his voice was loud, booming across the land with a volume that seemed impossible. There was also the fact that a woman’s voice was mixed in with a man’s. Slowly Dark Mythal’s eyes opened and revealed green spirals in place of pupils and sclera. A wicked grin tugged across his face. “So little time.” With a wave of his hand, Mythal brought in more of the darkness that surrounded the lands but rather than sucking it into himself, he compiled massive areas of the dark miasma underneath Mercury, Vandrad and Chishan. With a snap of his fingers, glowing starlight appeared directly beneath each person and erupted in a blast of concentrated magic power. Should any of them move to dodge, another opening would appear where they had gone to, a follow up attack of the same kind. This would continue for a total of thirteen times, should they manage to dodge that many times in quick succession.

Vandrad managed to dodge most of the attacks before he simply put up his barriers and tanked the damage, the prince being knocked around like a ball on a court. Chishan formed a complete ball of rock around him and was also kicked around by the blasts before landing outside the darkness, the Master rolling out of the stone and hopping to his feet. His hands moved in front of his body, water and flame held in each palm, before he thrust them forward, unleashing a combined torrent of liquid and fire. Dark Mythal waved his hand and a wall of darkness shot up from the ground to take the brunt of the attack, the thick shadows swallowing up the combined stream easily. Vandrad came rushing in from above and Mythal stepped back to avoid the falling punch, watching as the prince planted his fist into the ground and destroyed even more of the soil beneath them. Mythal once more swung his sword at Vandrad, this time putting both hands on the handle and swinging like it was a club. The extra strength was enough to send Vandrad flying as fast as the first time, mowing down another set of trees like a blade to grass.

Swirling eyes focused on Mercury, the grin returning. Mythal waved his hand in another fashion and from the ground erupted a twister of darkness. Yellow eyes perforated the twister, revealing that it was made up of combined souls from Kingdom Darkness. Mythal gently waved it at Mercury, directing it to follow after her and swallow her up. She’d find it hard to escape and would most likely have to face it head on. With that keeping their attention for the moment, Mythal started marching back towards the ritual site.

Dark Mythal had swiftly dealt with the buzzing flies that had been annoying him time and time again and yet, they kept coming back. His twisted gaze, only newly opened, took time to memorize their features, watching the shock, pain and horror as it rose up in them at the sight of their hopeless situation. The woman had been the one with the strange magic, the one that had hit with a bit more force, a bit more pain than expected. It didn’t feel altogether natural, at least not to Earthland. Perhaps she was some kind of interdimensional traveler? The Darkness King’s interest was not overwhelmed by his need to rid himself of her, casting curiosity aside for simple destruction. She had managed to survive the onslaught along with the other two for a good amount of time but she had taken some damage. It seemed the golden one was going out of his way to keep Mythal’s attention, taking the brunt of the damage while the other two attacked.

But the Dark Spiral would tear her apart. He waited but a moment to ensure that the woman was pulled into the depths of the cyclone. Soon enough she would be nothing but bloodied pieces scattered across the ground. He cast a glance downwards and noticed that the lacrima had sunk deeper into his chest, almost halfway merged into his flesh. His eyes flicked to the shielded area at the cemetery, to the magic users attempting to perform a counter ritual. Well that just wouldn’t do. Grinning, he began his trek back, his focus on his goal. Chishan had managed to leap over the wall of darkness after Mythal, fire covering his arms as he came in for some kind of attack. Unfortunately for the Master, his flames had recast the man’s shadow and Dark Mythal felt the connection. At once the shadow popped up, wrapping its arms around Chishan and slamming him into the ground, back first. The Master exclaimed in shock, even as his own shadow began to vibrate and glow. A moment later the duo exploded in a puff of darklight and darkness, shaking the ground.

Dark Mythal didn’t bother to look back at the devastation or the smoke, far too focused on the interesting green shield that covered the cemetery. And the figure behind it was Lux, staring wide-eyed at the approaching Darkness King. Dark Mythal began to muster magic in himself, preparing for a large assault upon the shield with intent of not only decimating it but the people beyond it in one go. But the sound of something impacting wood caught his attention and he stopped, his eyes looking around curiously. Something had hit the tree directly next to him and as he followed the only path it could have followed, he was met with an interesting sight. Mercury, practically upon him. Her weapon’s hilt slammed into the front of his abdomen, followed quickly by the actual blade piercing his torso from behind, ripping through his flesh painfully with its dulled end. The dark image of Mythal let out a small gasp of hurt that was quickly followed by another similar noise as the Silver Wolf mage ripped the sword out from him, the sharp curve tearing meat and matter. He stumbled forward a step as darkness oozed out from the injury on both sides, running free down his stomach and legs and pooling beneath him.

Mercury was not done it seemed. She fell into a heavily guarded position, with her hand up and pointed right at his body. A foreign, foul-smelling magic clung to the air as she activated a rune and detonated it at point blank range. Dark Mythal was completely swallowed up in the explosion, his body flung backwards with tremendous force before disappearing in the haze of light and fire. It was a magnificent combination, one that the only audience member who could see appreciated with some clapping. “Yeah! Kick his ass, purple slut lady!” Lux hollered from behind the shield. All they had to do was hurt Mythal enough that his magic would wane and then this dark form would disappear. That’s what happened last time, right? Surely it was the answer again. Lux was certain.

The smoke started to clear as Mercury roared at Dark Mythal, daring him to fight her with the spontaneous courage only fear could create. As the billowing haze cleared, Mythal emerged through it, crouched several feet away. He was down on one knee and his chest was scorched badly from Mercury’s last attack. The impaled injured had started to close but slowly, showing that the damage done had been significant. And the blast mark on his chest wasn’t even being tended to at the moment. The spirals in Mythal’s eyes turned a bit more in consideration of the woman, rising up to a standing position as he faced off with her. Slowly his grin returned. “Very well,” he replied, conceding to her request. The massive nodachi lifted itself from Mythal’s hand and floated up above and behind him, pointing towards the sky. With a wave of his hand, a dozen long, black swords appeared, forged out of darkness and pulled from the deepest vaults of Kingdom Darkness’ armory. They appeared in a pattern with the nodachi, creating a half-circle behind the Darkness King. Then all at once, the swords swung in aggressively, each one taking a swipe at her from a different angle. They would follow after her, taking violent slashes at her body from all sides, surrounding her so that she was completely trapped in a storm of blades. Dark Mythal chuckled as he summoned another dozen and sent them into the fray, putting the Silver Wolf mage completely on the defensive. Then he extended his arm outwards, away from her or anyone in particular. A wall of darkness rose up from the forest and stretched inwards, towering over the shield that Mercury had put down. Growths extended out from the flat surface, more than a dozen cannons forged within a second’s time. With another snap, darkstarlight quickly pooled into the turrets of the growths and then exploded outwards, raining down cataclysmic explosions all across the shield. It was a barrage unending, meant to weaken the shield with every follow up hit until it gave way and was no more.

In the distance, buried within the destroyed trunk of a tree, was Vandrad. He grunted as he pushed himself out from the wooden structure, flecks and pieces of lumber falling out from around him as he got to his feet and wobbled. His Empowerment was gone and dispersed but he was alive, despite the fact that his body felt like he’d been hit by a planet. He’d never imagined that Mythal could hit with such force but it had only taken a few decent hits from that sword to beat him up. He supposed he should count his stars that he hadn’t been simply cut in half. Blood was caked all across his face, painting a morose crimson line directly down the center of his features. There were bruises and cuts along the rest of his body and his clothes were tattered and torn. Yet somehow, for some reason, he was getting back to his feet. His gaze lifted and focused on the battlefield, wanting to catch up on what was happening. And to his horror, he saw that Dark Mythal had Mercury completely surrounded by dark swords, each one slashing at her over and over again, trying to cut her to ribbons.

His rage swelled again, an unhealthy mixture of the foreign body and his own. "You’re going to work for me,” he hissed furiously, demanding that whatever angry force was inside of him would be under his control. Of course it didn’t answer but his own stubborn nature believed it to be true. His aura ignited again, this time brighter than usual and he managed to pull up enough magic to temporarily activate his Empowerment, though it kept flickering off and on. His fury launched him forward, decimating the graveyard of trees further as he soared back to battle, his teeth bared as he put every last ounce of his remaining magic into this one final push.

Dark Mythal had amusingly been watching Mercury as she handled her situation when he spotted a golden light, once more rushing in. The stubborn tank had returned and with almost an afterthought, he brought forth another group of swords, awaiting the prince’s return so that they could cut him into pieces. “Useless,” he scoffed without enthusiasm. And when Vandrad came surging in, the swords did swing… but their blades burst into pieces, some of them breaking off after biting into the prince’s shoulders and arms. Mythal didn’t even have time to realize his half-caring defense had failed before Vandrad had slammed into him, driving the Darkness King’s body into the ground and tearing the surface up with such hatred and violence that it was carving a permanent scar into Earthland’s face.

"Don’t you DARE underestimate me!” Vandrad roared as his momentum carried them a bit further. When they came to a stop, he grabbed Mythal by the shirt and threw him into the air. The prince followed immediately after, exploding up with his hands reaching ahead of him. He grabbed Mythal by the head and the leg and then pulled him down as his knee came up, practically wrapping the man over the prince’s knee. "I don’t care what kind of goddess you are!” Then his knee dropped and his arms hooked together, swinging down in a hammer blow to the presented stomach of Mythal, sending him screeching down towards the ground. Mythal’s body slammed into the earth, cracking the soil while his body bounced upwards once more, his limp form hovering for only a second before Vandrad came surging down with his fists, driving them both deeper into the soil. "You come here and take over Mythal’s body, try to rob what isn’t yours. All you are is a cheater, a schemer and a coward! I will beat your body until you run back to your Kingdom Darkness and cry about the pain you’ve endured!” Punch upon punch fell into Mythal’s stomach, swinging forward with such strength and speed that his arms were only a blur.

Vandrad finished with two equal punches to the gut, with his hands opening up at the same time. Magic exploded out from his palms, swallowing Mythal up in the fire and rocketing Vandrad back out of the hole he’d created, the prince riding the magic wave into the sky before he cut it off. From there his aura sucked itself into Vandrad’s body, outlining him in a bright gold. "I am Vandrad, son of Gren Ragnos and Themescyia duWolff, prince of Bellum!” His hands thrust up towards the sky, right above the hole where Mythal was buried. "And wrecker…” Magic ripped out of his palms and pooled into the sky, forming a ring of bright gold that quickly expanded into a wide disk. "OF YOUR SHIT!” Vandrad closed his hands tight as the disc in the sky grew brighter and brighter. "LIGHT OF LUCORA, FIRE!” And then both his arms swung down, directing the attack towards the open wound in the soil, towards the Darkness Slayer he’d just planted deep into the earth. The disk ignited and released a massive, powerful beam of bright golden magic, decimating the earth as it vaporized everything in its path. The ground rumbled as the attack impacted the planet, vibrating everything for miles upon miles beyond the battlefield.

The beam lasted perhaps ten seconds, drilling into the ground, before it lost all of its energy and dissipated, leaving behind a flurry of glittering gold flakes of light. The hole, that had been man-sized, quadrupled the circumference it had been before. And there, lying at the bottom of it, was Mythal, his body intact, burned all over his flesh and his eyes shut as he lay there limp. Though it would be hard to tell from a distance, his chest was rising and falling gently, the man somehow still breathing. Vandrad’s magic ran out and finally his Empowerment left him for good, the prince managing a snide smirk before his eyes fluttered shut and he fell towards the ground.

Sixty seven percent.

Zifu’s concentration was broken for only a moment, enough so to listen to the number called out by Mercury. A chill ran down her spine and through her veins as she quickly calculated the percentile against the earlier readings. They’d been somewhere in the twenties when Mythal arrived and then a small increase when they teleported. They should have been around the quarter mark, not more than half. The truly terrible truth of the matter was that Faera’s ritual was not only continuing but it was pushing through their defenses. Serilda and Gren were inside but they must have been put on the run, escaping for their lives against the goddess’ overwhelming power. They couldn’t be dead yet -- if they were, Faera would already have control and as Lux said, this wasn’t some version that the goddess had come up with. But even the queen could hear the female tone in Dark Mythal’s words, hinting that she was still there and was gaining more influence. If something didn’t happen, if something drastic didn’t occur through Serilda and Gren’s actions, they would still fail.

“If anyone is holding any power back, now is the time to use it to its maximum ability,” she informed the group coolly, doing everything in her power to remain calm.

"Why the fuck would we be holdin’ out now?” Monica asked, doing everything in her power not to be offended at the remark.

Over on the battlefield, somehow Vandrad had managed to bury Dark Mythal in the ground and put him down. His magic ran out and, with nothing left to keep him airborne, began to fall straight towards the ground. He could only imagine how hard that was going to hurt but at the very least he had kept Mythal from hurting Mercury anymore. He could only wonder to what state she was in, given all the swords she had been doing her best to defend against. He only even knew that she was moving around when, suddenly and out of nowhere, he heard the swift sound of body movement, followed by arms grabbing him and pulling him into her chest. There was little doubt in his mind whose body he had been pulled against and as they tumbled across the land wildly, all he felt was relief. Relief that she had avoided major injury. Relief that he had gotten to Mythal in time before Mercury had suffered a grievous wound that exposed her to the group present.

He lay there for a moment as he cupped his face, speaking his name and asking for some kind of sign. A moment later she groaned, wincing heavily, before he managed to open his eyes and look up at her. "Great…” he said softly, his voice ragged and tired. "Another thing for you to hold over my head.” It was a wildly inappropriate time to be making jokes but to be honest, he kind of couldn’t help himself. The situation was so fucked that given the fact that they had not only survived but won was a damn miracle. He adjusted his head to look over in Mythal’s direction, still seeing no movement from anywhere near the hole. He sighed. "Remember when you wanted to leave? You remember that?” he asked softly, huffing out through his nostrils.

"Help me up.” It was one of the rare times that Vandrad actually went out of his way to ask for assistance. But even if he wanted to be stubborn and insist he could do it himself, they both knew he was lying. He didn’t fall out of the air just for the sake of having her catch him and straddle him -- he was utterly tapped out. Vandrad used what little physical strength he had left to help her get him to his feet, though he needed to hang his arm over her shoulder for support. Being on his feet certainly didn’t make him feel any better but he’d be damned if he was going to lie on the ground uselessly. He slowly scanned the battlefield, taking in the significant damage that they had wrought upon the hapless forest and swampy areas that littered the wood floor. "Where’s Chishan?” he wondered aloud, not seeing the man anywhere.


"We should probably use something… to tie Mythal down,” he said between breathes, his absorption of ethernano starting to aid in his weariness. He would recover in a short while due to his abilities but it would still be some time before he was able to use any magic and heal himself. That was fine -- he was less concerned about fixing his injuries at the moment and more concerned about checking on the process of the ritual. He was sure that he’d heard Mercury say a number at some point and figured it had something to do with the progress, though he wasn’t sure if it was about Faera’s or their own. "What was--”

Before he could finish his sentence, a sharp pain shot through his skull and his knees buckled as his rage suddenly shot into the stratosphere. He hissed between clenched teeth as he just barely managed to keep himself from losing control. He lifted his gaze up towards the hole in the ground, towards where Mythal had supposedly been out cold. Even without his senses working properly, he knew that the anger swelling up wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. His answer came a moment later as the form of Dark Mythal lifted itself out of the hole, floating up smoothly into the air and hovering above his resting place. His major injuries had mostly healed at that point, the burns and blasts slowly shrinking as his flesh knit itself back together.

The corrupted Darkness King set his gaze upon the pair, those colorful and vibrants eyes narrowing as he considered the two of them. His hand came up, beginning to gesture in their direction, when the ground suddenly cracked and slammed up upon him, two halves of solid soil breaking off from the earth and clapping together on Mythal. A moment later Chishan burst out from the ground, flaming rock wrapped around his hands, as he leapt into the air right where the dirt coffin was and kicked it back down into the cave. He thrust his hands forward and unleashed a torrent of fire down into the pit, engulfing the interior in flames.

The Master released a burst of fire magic and sailed over to Vandrad and Mercury, sliding on the slick and wet mud until he came to a stop. He looked at Vandrad and Mercury quickly before he set his gaze back on the hole. “We don’t have much time. You two need to get back in the shield and away from here. I should be able to hold him off for a bit.”

"N-”

“Do not fight me on this, Vandrad. We both know you’re tapped out of magic and, in your state, you’re a liability rather than a benefit. I won’t let you uselessly put your life in danger when you can’t properly defend yourself. Mercury, take him. Come back when you can -- I’ll need more help keeping him off base.” He wasn’t offering advice or suggesting anything; these were orders. And as much as Vandrad hated to admit it, he was right. Without his magic, he couldn’t form defensive barriers and that meant one spell in his direction, one swing of that sword and he was dead. Sullenly, he glanced up at Mercury and gave her a nod, confirming that he agreed with Chishan, as much as it hurt his pride.

Once the Master of the Order was sure they were heading in the direction of the shield, he engulfed his body in flames and launched himself into the sky, gaining air over the hole before dropping inside, ready to continue the fight. Vandrad watched as the Master disappeared over the ridge of the hole before he looked away. Chishan wouldn’t be able to hold him for very long -- there was little doubt that he had said that just to give them peace of mind. No one believed him but what else was there to do? They didn’t have options and it was obvious the Master refused to let other people die when he could sacrifice himself to buy them time. It didn’t sit well in Vandrad’s stomach, even as they passed beyond the green shield and set themselves in the cemetery. They were out of choices, out of plans. There was nothing no one could do to turn the tides…

Unless. His eyes widened slightly in realization. It was a truly risky move, one that he wasn’t even sure would succeed in any capacity any of them wanted. But it was clear that this Dark Mythal intended on killing them all, including the transferred Serilda and Gren. To have come this far and only gotten to talk with his father for the span of two hours was unacceptable. For Mythal’s own fiance to be slain at her lover’s hand when she wasn’t even aware of it was out of the question. He refused to let these people die when he still had one card up his sleeve, even if it was the most dangerous play anyone could come up with.

"Mercury,” he said softly as he gently pushed  himself away from her, setting himself down on his hands and knees. "I need you to promise me something. Whatever happens, whatever I’m about to… become, do not try and stop me unless I go after anyone other than Mythal. And make sure I do not kill him. I think… I think you’re the only one that will be able to stop me,” he hissed between the pulses of rage, tearing at his inner walls with claws as sharp as talons. "Don’t try and talk me out of this. I’ve made my decision. Now get out of here quickly. I can’t promise you’ll be safe until I’m sure it’s focused on Mythal.” He spoke with an exhausted but solid determination, willing to make a deal with whatever terrifying force lay within him. He wasn’t going to like it and he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. But he had felt the kind of power that came from it; the dark, extreme, violent, evil power. It was what they needed to turn this around.

He made sure she understood how serious he was, keeping his gaze locked on hers. And he would wait until she finally started to head back into the battle. Once she was sure she was gone, he forced himself to his feets, groaning softly as his body ached and cried out. He turned and started limping away from the group doing the ritual, putting space between himself and Ruzatz. If he was truly demon, there was no guarantee that this force wouldn’t go after him first. No, he needed to have Dark Mythal be the only force strong enough to attract his attention. He walked through the opposing side of the shield, stumbling over the uneven terrain. His feet gave out and he fell face first into the mud, the dark mush splashing over his face and body. "Alright, you son of a bitch…” he mumbled, even as the veins in his forehead started to pop on his flesh. "You want out? Then you better enjoy it while you can. Because I’m going to wrest control of this power for myself right out of your hands when we’re done. Do you hear me? This is the last time you get to control me!” Vandrad slammed his fists into the ground and finally, finally let the rage overwhelm him, releasing the restraints and simply giving in.

Over on the battlefield, Chishan was sent flying by a flurry of dark blasts, each one hitting him one after the other to keep him airborne. He slammed into the trunk of a tree, the massive wooden structure cracking and falling back into the dense forest behind it. Dark Mythal stood several yards away, darkness still pooling around his hands. His attention snapped behind him as Mercury came back and with almost no effort, he realized his Dark Guardian into existence. With an unspoken command, he sent it after her, the clawed beast rushing in and slashing at her. With her momentarily distracted, Dark Mythal swung his blade up and rushed in at Chishan, the tip of his blade set to pierce through the Master’s skull and end his misery once and for all.

But it never connected. A hand, out of nowhere, came rushing in and caught the blade right before it pierced Chishan’s forehead. It held the blade in its place, despite all the strength behind it. Dark Mythal turned his gaze over to the source of the hand and found a newly transformed Vandrad. The dark black ‘M’ etched into his forehead, the shadowing under his eyes and a wicked smirk showed the major changed in him. The Dark Prince chuckled as he tightened his fingers on the sword. "My, my… what a poor excuse for a man pretending to be a god. Then again, Faera is a poor excuse for a deity in the first place, isn’t she?”

Dark Mythal’s gaze narrowed. “What is this?” the amalgamation asked, curious.

"Your reckoning.” In one swift move, Vandrad ascended to his golden Empowerment and pushed back on the sword, causing Mythal to slide backwards through the mud several yards. The Dark Prince threw out his hand and vibrant pink magical energy surged out of his palm, stretching out quickly to become a scythe. But the energy reading off of it was all wrong; it was made of some kind of matter that shouldn’t have existed and anyone nearby would feel it right in their guts. "Let’s see what all that power really amounts to!” Vandrad said with a laugh before charging forward, scythe at the ready.