Anderson stared solemnly at the crumbling body of his dead friend. The angelic lustre around him gradually shifting darker and darker until raven feathers whirled around the old man like a cocoon.
Longinus, the holy lance, vanished from his grasp. Black winds whistled into numbed ears.
A chilling, mechanical chime tolled inside his mind.
{{Violation of the Saint's conduct detected. The divine punishment for killing an unarmed man: Image magic sealed, five years.}}
The voice of God. O' great ruler of law and exchange. . . The Prime Minister scoffed softly.
"Is that all? Really? After what I've done? Haha. Wow. This is a goddamn joke."
A clamoring of feet. His Majesty's loyal blackguards hesitantly clambered up to Anderson, seeking in him orders. Commands. He'd no such intention to do so. Pathetic weaklings. He felt sick to the core even looking at them. But first Anderson needed their leave.
Commander Ike walked forth and bowed.
"Prime Minister. The threat has been officially neutralized. Please step aside so we may take the Demon Mage's core. His Supreme Majesty has explicitly asked for it."
Tsk. Not giving a single chance.
"Ptui. The devil is dead. Burnt to ashes by the poison. King Holt asked of me his life, and so I have given him. Now he asks me to let a corpse be desecrated? Have I not proven my loyalty? Though, a plague such as Grayson does deserves an unjust end."
Boiling annoyance rolled off Anderson, pressuring Ike. Yet he does not fumble. Does not fear. Sweat on brow but no respect nor awe. Only a mildly expressed terror stemming from a lack of strength, not position.
"It. . . is not a matter of loyalty, Prime Minister. His Majesty simply wants to collect a rare item."
The old man's eyes narrow chillingly. Scrutiny and suspicion was to be expected. However, a mere commander is unafraid? 'It would seem that King Holt already suspects me greatly. After all this? What a troublesome superior I have. Humph.'
No matter. A genial smile soon stuffed the dam of malice like a stopper on a wine bottle.
"Very well. It is indeed a coveted treasure. Tell the King to cherish it." Anderson strode past Ike. "But as recompense, I shall be taking these two with me."
A minor flourish, and the cold bodies of Raze and Ishtar floated towards him, while Commander Ike stuttered a refusal. One simply gone unanswered as the bodies started trailing behind the old man like puppets on a string. The Prime Minister chortled, narrating to empty air while he leisurely strode off.
"The corpse of a genius and the most beautiful woman ever to have lived. Surely you understand why I'm taking them, right? Think about what a man like me could do with these. . . a commander like you shouldn't peer too deep into internal matters, Ike. Keep your fear of God--"
Chucking manically, an old man and two corpses slowly left the burning battlefield.
"--Lest you be smote by his wrath."
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Kaiser thought death would be emptiness. A total lack of anything. No light nor stench nor noise, and certainly, no pain. Unfortunately, this did not seem to be the case. His entire body burned. Itching pain traveling through every synapse, each of his senses ringing alarm bells.
'Urgh. . .'
But as the pain intensified, he felt a presence draw near. Or maybe it was always there, and he had just noticed. It was a figure sitting on a chair. No, a throne. Nay. The stump of a cut tree? A moon?
{{Neither. All.}}
"What?"
The shadow suddenly spoke. Its voice vibrating endlessly in this empty space. Like a god.
{{The answer to both your questions, of course. I neither drew near, nor did you notice me. I simply allowed you to perceive my being, and so you did. As for your other question. It is 'all'. I am sitting both on a chair, and on a throne. At the stump of a tree, and at a moon. All, at the same time.}}
'It can hear my thoughts.' Danger. A beast's natural ability to sense a crisis. Impending doom. How many monsters has he faced? How many demons and how many men worse than them? Not once had he felt afraid. Because fear came unnaturally to Kaiser. A man who would casually drink poison, who glared death in the face. A devil who raged even as his own body crumbled.
Fear stemming not from phobias, the unknown, pain, or death. But 'weakness'.
This. . . is powerlessness. An inability to affect anything around oneself. Prey to fate and its whims. A balanced scale, tilted unceasingly beneath the figure's seat.
"Who. . . are you?"
The Archmage could only see its teeth flash brightly in the darkness.
{{I'm sure you already know. Think about it. I'll make you a 'deal' if you guess right.}}
It was a teasing tone. A beast who played with its food.
'. . .Troublesome riddler.'
An omnipresent, omnipotent entity. One who likes being cryptic, yet explains everything. Kaiser's mana pulsed strangely as if in anticipation. Someone who likes to make deals. . . ah. . . of course.
It was so obvious.
"The great ruler of law and exchange."
And its hair-raising smile split its hidden face ear to ear. Unseen eyes sparkling with brilliance.
{{Bingo!}}
It stood happily, and extended a gloved hand towards the Archmage. Beckoning.
{{Well then. Would you like to barter with me, Kaiser Grayson?}}
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