Chereads / Monarch of Darkness, Arsene / Chapter 1018 - Freya - Bridge of the Damn III

Chapter 1018 - Freya - Bridge of the Damn III

Gripping onto anything I could find, the ship tore through subspace, crash-landing on the bridge as sparks and red lights flashed over my eyes. Heat had struck following the explosion of shockwaves within the bridge, sending my body across the bridge in a spiral as everyone tumbled over one another, hitting the glass of the bridge.

"Freya!" Ezra howled, grunting as she pushed a fellow officer off her face. " Head outside with Victoria! Kill as many as you can! And don't get hit!"

Nodding without hesitation, I called upon Master's blessing, and Shadowed Stepped outside where streaking lines of plasma whipped over the ashen black skies.

Ash fluttered the Heavens as I glanced at the flagship repairing itself. Cursing our luck. I turned and stared at the lost souls awaiting judgment, and a sensation of utter fear fell like a blade over my neck.

Over the Soul Flames of the Damned, I saw Lucifer's scarlet sigil branding them, marking them as property of the Nines.

A/N: Look up is sigil... no idea how to describe that.

Unease swept through me, but I quickly closed myself off from such things and snapped my eyes toward the entrance where a cluster of ships were attacking.

Quickly finding Victoria weaving through hordes of cannon fire, I quickly rushed towards her, falling short only a dozen hundred meters when a blade black as endless night swept to my neck.

Hairs reeling, I pivoted into a shadow step behind the winged imp, baring his horns and sharp-like teeth. I snatched the little bastard by the neck and tossed him into oncoming canon fire.

Turning the imp to ash, I didn't hesitate and danced through the incoming flickers of sword light, wishing to cleave me into dust. Light wounds quickly raced over me, startling me to my core.

These imps… were the weakest type of Demons! The weakest. There should be no way they should be able to attack a High God like me.

Cursing beneath my breath, knowing something was wrong. I glared at the smoldering bodies of the little bastards burning simply by being near the Bridge of the Damned.

They should be under a handicap, but something was empowering them.

The Hells were not messing around.

Getting serious, I got off the defensive and unsheathed my wooden blade of Ygg. Forged with her core root and a single feather of an Archangel for Oden during the war of Devils and Demons. It was a blade meant to kill demons and Devils. That was its sole focus. It was harmless towards any other race.

Wielding Draczimar, the laws of death and life coiled around me, mending injuries while withering the poor souls around me, and I charged into the horde of demons hiding beneath the shadows of endless souls.

Blood, the color of fine wine, whipped over my cheeks, drenching my robes as Draczimar danced into arcs of semi-circles cleaving through demons like hot butter. Howls rang through my ears as blood and death swayed into my ears, filling my world with nothing but death.

Devouring the Blood of Demons, Draczimar trembled as it's once Emerald Light turned blood red. The blade hummed to the frequency of death, releasing a louder and louder sound with each stolen soul.

Tens.

Hundreds.

Thousands.

Ten thousand were all felled by my blade as the frequency of death howled so loud it began exterminating all those beneath the level of Heavenly Lord. Their heads all began to explode into a fine mist of glory.

Life pooled over my blade like a waterfall before I realized I'd arrived beside Victoria near the end of the bridge.

Chest heaving and sweat falling over my light wounds, I glanced at Victoria without the slight drop of blood over her serene appearance.

"Ezra! Hold the cannon fire!

They're using dream weapons," Victoria uttered coldly to me. "Someone dreamed up the weapons for them. Be careful. I don't know who did it, but they are a master in the Dao of Illusions. I think they even dreamed up their cultivation. That's why they appear stronger and faster."

"Amazing," I said without thought. " Didn't know you could do that."

"It's all about imagination. "She replied with a dark smile standing on the feathery wings of the bridge that felt like the coldest stone beneath our feet.

"Seems we will be acting as the generals."

I nodded, noting that the tower didn't even seem scratched even after being struck by billions of cannons capable of destroying elder gods.

"The Hells are downright scary. What in the world!"

Glaring at the black tower, the hairs on my neck stood on end as the aura of an Eternal Sovereign released a draconic roar.

My eyes snapped towards the tip of the bridge as a Draconic beast breathing a miasma of fire from its throat appeared.

On its head, I could see about nine eyes, four on each side of the head and a single large one burning with the wrath of the Nines; its body had appeared as though it was forged out of pestilence and death. The wings looked withered and torn, yet they were spread wide, and the talons jagged and sharp.

The beast opened its mouth, and before anyone could do a thing, a blaze of fire and ash swept through me and toward the ship.

Never before had I been so relieved to have Master's immunities. I had no idea how Victoria had lived, but she was standing still with a pulsing aura of space-time coiled around her.

Behind me, however, was nothing but burning souls howling and the dozen ships existing through subspace.

"!!!"

"Shields came back online!" The voice of Ezra shouted. "Lead the charge. I'm sending out seven battalions."

"I got the Dragon. Clear out this tower." Said Victoria, bolting off the ground like a beam of light.

Chest still heaving, I hooked my gaze toward the entrance covered in thick black flames and darted in.

And everything went still.

No sound. No cries. No crackling of souls. It was just quiet.

Swaying my gaze left and right, I frowned heavily and tightened my grip around Draczimar. I advanced.

Slowly and steadily, my eyes surveyed the dark interior of this tower, eying the somewhat abstract decore of what lay within.

Pictures of winged fiends stood across many paintings, some with wings, others without. Some of the portraits even showed a spiraling representation of the Nine Hells.

Nine Layers… and a single blood river, running through them all.

I wasn't sure why… but for some reason, a name came to my tongue.

"Is… is that the River Styx?" I asked myself, shaking my head. "that's not possible. Doesn't that river belong to the underworld exclusively?"