Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 188: Festival of Chaos II

The night before the Festival of Chaos, Altair could not pull his gaze off Tenebrae, who was encased in a beautiful azure crystal. His fists were clenched, and an indescribable sensation of powerlessness overwhelmed him as he stared to where a slight crack blemished the side of her cheek, trailing down her slender neck.

He felt his heart wrench against his chest. "Mother…" He whispered, paying his respects to the woman who gave him everything.

For an hour, he stood there, palms clasped together in prayer. To whom he was praying, too, Altair could not say; he just wanted her whole.

"Tomorrow is the new year." He continued. "And I fear that the world will turn on me soon. I've prepared countermeasures, but I'm still worried. I'm worried about how many gods want my head. I'm worried about how many seek to have my head already despite having accomplished nothing. I've grown much, mother.

But there is so much I need to learn, so much I need to grasp. And the one thing I lack is time. So forgive me for what I'm about to do, mother… To obtain power…" he stopped, drawing in a large breath as a cold gleam filled his eyes.

Two Vale stars hummed in orbit around his head like a crown black as the deepest night. Altair lowered his hand, placing a palm over the pommel of Shadowclaw. He bowed, turning as his shadow grew long, filled with a dozen eyes.

He stepped out from the [Dimensional Rift] to his hotel room. He pulled in a long breath, reached for his mask, and pulled it from his face minutes before the new year.

Ren was watching him with 'Ice' mounted to her back while Zagreus, Thanatos, Syria, and Lyain watched.

Altair's eyes flashed to scarlet in but an instant as the city came to life.

"No turning back now," Zagreus laughed, sensing multiple presences stifling the air. They arrived in a single breath, shattering through the window with savage faces, wielding weapons of all kinds; seven men of the fourth circle charged toward Altair like minotaurs. Their bodies were enhanced by nearly double with the aid of mana.

Altair glanced at them for less than a second before they fell prone, howling as their minds began to unravel beneath the [Eye of Sacrilege]. As if their faces were aflame, the Prince watched as they began to claw at their faces, gorging out their own eyes and hair as if to alleviate the pain.

Through the eyes of many of his victims, Altair had experienced what true pain felt like. Especially on the battlefield against the demons back in Forwin. What the demons had done to many mortals few got to experience. But with the [Eyes of Sacilage], Altair pored their experiences into his enemy's minds to break them.

[Divine Sin, Archeon welcomes you back!]

[Divine Being, She Who Hunts praises your return]

[Divine being, 'Piercing Owl,' warns of the danger.]

[Divine Sin, Daddy, narrows his eyes feverishly]

The Prince slid Shadowclaw from its cage, slicing off the heads of the seven men. "There is nothing to worry about." He said to the Gods, opening his palm not to absorb their soul but to store it with the aid of [Fallen Necromancy]. Altair stepped onto the veranda. He stared coldly at the hundreds gathering outside.

"ALTAIR!!!!!" came the dire voice of Vaiga, bolting towards him when several other Ninth Circles blocked her. She cursed beneath her breath, looking at him in a panicked gleam. "Ru—"

Visem became like a great ball of light as laughter erupted into a great pyre of fire, connecting Heaven and Earth. Scorching iridescent flames wielding the might of the Hells liquefy the snow and buildings in a matter of seconds. Lighting those that did not possess a magical attribute of a hundred on fire.

Those aflame howled and pleaded diving into the magma to end their own lives. In seconds, the quiet streets of Vesim had twisted into madness and bloodshed.

Altair calmly watched as an unfamiliar entity descended with a bright smile on her lips. Stunning, with a voluptuous figure to match. She smiled brightly like a fairy or perhaps a devil, curtsying for all to see.

"Tasha of Mythos greets you, Altair Blackwood." She said, her blood-red eyes measuring the boy before her, taking his odor that reminded her much of those from the Ninth Layer. "You remind me of Lord Asmodeus Lineage. Are you perhaps a part of the Nine Hells?"

With a smile, Altair said, "What makes you think that?"

Tasha noted the way in which mana did not swirl like it did for most who needed to invoke spells. Altair was withstanding the flame with merely his physique.

She glanced at Syris, Thaan, Zagreus, and, lastly, Ren. She shuddered, sensing her blood wrenching against her bones.

'A Fallen,' she thought guarded, recalling the feel of the few she could remember. Against them, there was no point fighting, no point hoping to be free. They took what they wanted and had whatever caught their eye. Demons and Devils were their toys, no matter how powerful they perceived themselves to be.

It had been said long ago when the first devils were born into this world by the Mother of Demons, Lilith, the Fallen bore into their blood and soul dominance. No demon or devil shall lay their hand upon a Fallen without the explicit permission of the Monarchs of Hell. In the end… from the devils came demons, the broken fragment of madness that splintered off into abominations that knew only chaos.

"Your excellency," said Tasha to Reina with a pleasant curtsy. "I greet you. Might I ask what layer of Hell you preside within?"

"Irkalla," said Reina with truths and lies as her mind flashed to the image of her Father, who now presided as Duke within the Second Monarch's Hell.

Altair glanced at Reina with misgiving eyes. He would rather no one make the connection between him and his Father. Beelzebub had already been too close for comfort. And his presence alone had nearly killed them.

Nevertheless, Reina didn't seem to notice, or perhaps she was enjoying the look Altair was giving her as she studied the devil named Tasha. She didn't seem evil; rather, there was an innocence that made her wish to brush her hair. Made her wish to tease and break all at the same time.

"Lord Arsene Snow, the Abyssal King," whispered Tasha, cursing her Master.

Reina grinned. "How did you recognize me?"

"I've… I've… I've met a Fallen before." Tasha hurriedly said, compelled by an unnamed authority that bore out from her blood-like tendrils wrapping around her throat.

Reina sensed it. She could feel that unnamed authority radiating from out of her very depths. It was pure, raw, and innate. She grinned, "What a beautiful dog you are," she said cruelly, the scarlet glint of her eyes spiraling in a lovely sadistic glow. Experience more on m|vl-em,py-r

Again, Tasha felt something inside her stir. She dared not even speak.

[Divine Sin, Archeon, frowns at the unknown authority wielded by the Nephilim.]

[Divine Sin, Archeon, has never heard of any Nephilm-wielding the Authority of the Fallen]

[Divine Fallen, 'Currupt Prince' nods at the Authority of his Kin.]

[Divine Fallen, Conquest, roars with laughter and demands you take her eyes as trophies]

Reina's lips tipped up. "My brothers want me to take those lovely blood-red eyes." She began, "Might you be so kind as to tear them out for me?"

Bounded by an authority that seemed as absolute as the One's ancient voice, Tasha smiled and, without the slightest hesitation, reached for her eyes. Under the horror of everyone, her fingers slid up her lids, curling around her eyeball.

"Enough, Ren," Altair commanded, taken back by the way her power seemed to work on demons and devils alike.

Ren instinctually halted his command with her will alone. She frowned, "But I don't quite like the way she is staring at you." she skipped ahead, studying the bewitching Lilm with a devious smile magically floating in the sky, her fingers curling around her eyeballs as blood shrieking down her face.

Throughout it all, Tasha never lost her smile; less the authority Reina held caused her to lose her life.

"I want to hear what she has to say," The Prince said calmly, glancing at the smoldering ash of men and women. From where he stood, he spotted Hilda, Cedric, and a couple of familiar faces who were able to withstand the force of the Lilm. He lifted his gaze towards the devil. "Tell me, Tasha, what is your mission?"

"To aid you," said Tasha quickly.

"I find that hard to believe, especially when you are summoned to retrieve Aria Silverman's soul. I'll give you another chance. Who is the Realm Lord of this realm… and who told you to aid me."

Altair did not believe she would randomly just lie. Lies were a tool only to be used with discretion. He'd heard that devils were smart. Surely, even ones who knew only how to warm beds knew how to play the game.

Tasha's expression couldn't have turned a lighter shade of pale before it returned to normal. She laughed. "If I were to answer you, can you imagine what would happen to me?"

"I can't, but can you imagine what would happen to your soul should you die and return to the Hells? I can imagine the Gods that be would be even more furious. So give me a name."

Laughter like wildfire thundered over Visem as Tasha said with fear, "His name is Astaroth of Mythos, one of the Nine Princes of Hell."