Shadow of the Abyss

In the cross-flashes of spears rioting against one another, casting tremors far and wide, Nia's dual pupils granted foresight, projected shadowy images of herself and her opponent dancing around their main body and brawling with their spears before they disbursed into a mist.

Nia's eyes flashed, curling her lips upwards as she jerked her spear up at an angle, catching the Elder Skeleton where its heart ought to have been if it were still alive.

The obsidian bones of the strange skeleton shattered into a fine mist, blown away by the force of Nia's strike. The impact was so powerful that it left a gaping hole in the skeleton's body, taking out half of it.

"A… F…Fine…Spear…" the Elder Skeleton muttered as the azure flames within its hollow sockets faded to embers.

Nia's eyes grew cold, and her spear flickered, shredding the remaining half of the skeleton into dust. While she wanted to respect her opponent, during their battle, she'd noticed that the skeleton didn't expense the highs and lows of exhaustion most people experience. It was always at one hundred. She was the same, so she didn't dare hesitate to land a blow that ensured it wouldn't rise again.

[Jovaca Loma Felled. Exp Gained]

"Mission Accomplished," Nia said, informing Jorm before she pushed to locate any more stragglers or other generals. There were none aside from the Dullahan, holding its own against Raven or at least trying.

In the short time they'd been separated, Raven's spearmanship had seemed to deviate from her masters, taking on a new form of Grave of Night.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

On her return to her Master's side, she found herself studying Raven. In ways she'd not before, asking herself, 'If we fought, would I win?' The answer never came.

"Good work out there," Altair said to her, though his attention was also on Raven. "She might be my Familiar, but her skill with a glaive is almost foreign to me. It hardly seems like my Mother's technique." he shook his head before looking at Nia. "Is your side secure?"

"Yes. And I have an idea for finding the Lich." Nia said, forcing her eyes away. "Let's Destroy this realm."

"huh?"

The idea had crossed Altair's mind, but he never thought that Nia, of all people, would recommend it. It seemed inconceivable. Nia was ever bit an honorable lady. Destruction of a world seemed every bit the opposite of what she stood for.

"that won't be necessary," Tasha said, strutting over with a smile. She glanced at Nia, finding her lips reaching higher. She was impressed. It wasn't every day an honorable lady turned her back on what they believed in. Or perhaps Nia herself wasn't aware of what she spoke of. Either way, Tasha found the idea stimulating.

"I've found him." She opened her palm, conjuring a strange holy energy that, at any other time, would have incinerated her down to her bones. Instead, the whisk of energy began to dance around her palm before flying off across the plane of ruin around them.

"That's Seraphic Essence," Altair said, glancing curiously at Tasha for answers.

"It's called Guidance," Tasha said. "it basically allows you to call upon your patron's power to guide your path."

"So, in your case, it's Gremory," Altair said, garnering a strange response he couldn't quite place. "What? Is it Astaroth?"

"My Lord, has anyone ever told you that you're insolent?" Tasha expressed, finding his confusion all the more interesting. "You only ever speak their name but never refer to them by their title."

And for the first time, Altair didn't have an answer. Perhaps it had been of pride, or he simply didn't care, but he never thought about it.

"Anyway. Let's go. Follow me." She continued, following after the whisk of seraphic essence.

"Wait, are you just going to leave Raven!" Raven shouted, somersaulting into an earth-shattering kick behind the Dullahan that sent it skidding over the ground and off his stallion. She charged, catching up to the Dullahan, who barely had time to parry the glaive that would have impaled its chest.

"MASTER IS A BULLY!"

"Yall here something?"

"Master!" shouted Raven.

"Must be the wind. Yeah. The wind. Let's go, Tasha. Raven, hurry it up."

Raven screamed, shooting a furious glare at her master, leaving her behind. She turned her amethyst eyes to the Dullahan, who appeared to flinch, kicking itself back to get out of range.

"Raven is sorry, Mr. Dead-Dead. But she has to kill you now."

The Dullahan responded by opening his palm and summoning an emaciated head that was set ablaze with the same azure flame as the stallion he once rode on.

Before Raven could conceive what he could do with such a head, the air became electrified, lifting the hairs around her body. She gulped and moved. Blitzing the Dullahan with Sovereign Gale, her glaive whipped across its rib, pausing a breath's distance, as a shriek so mighty the earth for over a hundred meters turned to vaper in the blink of the eye.

Raven didn't have time to defend, as she felt as if a battering ram struck her chest. Her skin was peeled away like a carpenter peeling wood from off a block as blood gushed from out of her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. She was thrown back, skidding like a broken doll over the earth.

A painful wince escaped her lips as she forced herself to remain standing. She was made whole the following second by her Ashen Blood, but that didn't make her feel good.

"I'm going to kill you." Raven declared in an overly calm voice, tightening her fist around her glaive that began to smolder with the Essence of Vale.

"You are… not my Match." said the Dullahan, lifting its head to speak to Raven's surprise.

She smiled nastily, taken in by a calm that came from her subconscious. The Ancient Gods who'd taken an interest all frown, immediately recognizing the Fifth Form, Zenzu. More than that, they recognized the ancient technique held by the ancient form, known as the Hollowing.

Raven's skin turned ashen, and her eyes reluctantly grew empty, devoid of even the slightest emotion. As if she'd rejected the harmony of the Heavens and the Earth, a will that transcended the will of the Myriad Heavens began to awaken within the young girl.

Even Iliana seemed surprised, for she was sure her clone wouldn't have taught anyone anything other than the Ninth Form. She had to wonder how Raven obtained the Fifth Form, Zensu, known as The Ethereal Grace, said to be able to reject the Seven Sins and Seven Virtues.

It hadn't taken long for the Dullahan to perceive something wrong. It was an internal sensation that he couldn't explain. He could see Raven, but he couldn't sense her, at least not in the traditional sense. It felt as if he was standing before another undead.

"What is the—-" The Dullahan words faded, for it didn't even have time to perceive its death as the afterimage of Raven vanished. His sea of conciseness simply faded into the general night of the Vale.

***

Altair, following after Tasha, frowned, glancing to his rear in the direction he'd left Raven. He was confident that Raven could handle the Dullahan, but for some reason, he felt something stir within his consciousness. His omniscience informed him that Raven was fine and the battle was over, but the sensation of forewarning permeated his mind.

"I'm sure she's fine," Morrigan said, noticing the concern on his face. "She could fight a seventh Circle easily. A sixth circle undead should be nothing."

"I know that," Altair muttered. "It's something else." he shook his head, glancing around at the molten rock that was hardening now that it had come to the world's surface. The world around them, however, was clouded with Sulfuric Ash, obscuring the vision of everyone but Tasha.

"We're here," Tasha affirmed, pointing towards the only building standing.

Morrigan frowned, waving her palm, willing the wind to push away the ash to reveal a sprawling building of bones so tall it seemed as if it wished to touch the clouds above. It was perhaps one of the ugliest things she'd ever seen, as many of the bones used to craft the tower were the bodies that were still decomposing.

"Uhgerrr." Siena could not hold it in anymore and vomited her breakfast, threw her mask.

"Archdemons Baphomet Castle is better," Tasha complained. "Where are the screaming men and woman, the kids! The aborted bastards. Those bastards' screams are the best. Come on. At least show some imagination! JUSTICE FOR THE ABORTED—"

Altair was compelled to cover her mouth. "Please shut up," he pleaded, cupping his face. "You're making it so I don't want to go to the Hells."

Tasha wrenched herself free and said, as a matter of fact. "It's hell, my Lord. What did you expect? It exists to torture sinners or unlucky ones."

"It's disdainful, but she's right," Morrigan said darkly. 'And from what I hear, Archdemon Baphomet is one of the worst tortures in all the hells. When he loses himself to Madness, the things he comes up with are able to make an Angel Fall."

"There is a reason he's called the Lord of Sacrilege," Tasha added, pointing towards the spiraling tower. "That there is like a cheap imitation of one of his towers. This Ravel is a believer, or at least admires him greatly."