In the chamber room of The Tarnished Text.
Von Friede stood behind of a small mound of corpses he collected from one of the storage rooms. The faintly visible pair of lips behind the metallic veil covering Schalieze's face curved at the ends, brought up into a smile.
A finger curled towards her face, and a light green haze formed around the pillars as it wafted towards the pile. Carried forth by the immaterial fog, Von Friede bowed down upon picking up his master's chuffed bearing.
Waving her hand, she quickly enclosed it into a fist before snapping. At the same time as her movements, the light green haze balled up around the corpse mound, forming an oblong shaped seeds as it hardened into a physical shell.
"More."
"As you command." Von Friede's sleeves fluttered as he made a pulling gesture, and several corpse mounds surrounded him. The process began anew, and as minutes ticked away in the unhurried solemnity of the room, 12 light green seeds were formed.
They stood at two meters tall, three meters wide. An aural flickering light wafted off then in soft rays, the energy fluctuating and pulsating as the sounds of a steady beat filled the room. Schalieze smiled in sheer pleasure, two hands joined as their fingers crossed underneath her chin.
The bottom pair of her arms gracefully stretched out, hands oscillating as her neck tilted backwards. Soft chuckles escaped her lips as the seeds began to gyrate, hanging soft in the air as they flanked the sides of the room.
"Von Friede. You will see our visitors to this room, won't you?"
"…My lord, I can smell the stench of those fetid gods."
"You could perhaps solve the issue if they came alone. But…there are three that carry the so called stench. I'm more wary of the singular one who lacks it…if you can find it, quickly kill it."
"Your orders besides that?"
"Bring the pesky angel here last. They will no doubt attempt to ambush me, and so you must delude them into thinking they will succeed."
"I follow your orders, my lord. I will see you shortly…"
"Close the doors on your way out, and seal them for good measure~"
"Hmm…"
Von Friede, who had his own doubts, still obediently followed the woman's orders. His left arm cast off the yoke of flesh that mirrored his right, instead turning into a fiendish mosaic that practically oozed with demonic energy. Soft whispers sounded like reeds fluttering in the breeze, the fiendish faces on the solid, smooth and steely surface made cunning smiles as its hand pressed against the Gantrian Night Jade doors.
"The weakest presence is beside the strongest, and the middling presence is quickly approaching…"
As if Hospitality Home was his own body, he acutely located the signatures of Autumnal Grace as soon as he stepped foot in the morgue room. A snort of irritation followed when he noticed that he could only feel three presences, much like what his master indicated.
Of course, he did not doubt The Tarnished Text one bit. For her to realize that there was a presence that he couldn't pick up one was further proof of her much higher caliber. Robes fluttered as he spread an invisible mist, fogging up the entire room with the presence of Gantrian demonic energy as it rose upwards.
His left hand clawed through the walls with no resistance, almost as if it was melding with the texture instead of colliding against it. Walking forwards, his handsome face faded into nothingness as his whole body became flat with the wall, his form becoming a mere scribbled pattern that roamed amongst the intricate carvings carefully woven in the ancient material.
Ascending up the stairway as he continued walking within the wall, he turned to the corridor on the four lowest floor. Brisk footfalls entered his ear as he perceived a crimson light, the two spheres spreading out thin red rays as a sense of disgust welled within him. Von Friede shook his head, annoyed at the arrogant stride the Red Angel made.
The mist entered the heads of several patrolling cultist demons, and they quickly hurtled down. Balir and Lah stood in against a wall as they watched the shambling demons quickly shuffle downwards, the prior shaking his head as he motioned for the latter to remain still.
Bie stepped out from the room and wanted to trace the other familiar sensation, but his feathers fluttered as his lips contorted into a snarl. A high concentration of demonic energy was collecting beneath him, and the Cruel Angel part of him was suffusing a strong desire to slaughter them mercilessly. The thoughts of plucking out their eyes, pulling out their intestines, and ripping their nerves one by one threatened to pervade his psyche.
But he calmly sucked in a cold breath, softly shaking his head. He considered bringing out Ekulech once more, but instead settled on withdrawing his duffel bag as he strung it over his shoulders.
With lightened footsteps he treaded forwards, a sense of calm disproportionate with the savage cruelty lingering on his mind. His eyes dimmed and became much cooler as he walked, his thoughts coalescing as he advanced down the dimly lit hallways.
A cold, murderous glint welled forth from his eyes, the two feelings at odds as they melded into one. The ferocity could erupt at any moment if he wasn't careful , but for now it was controlled.
Meanwhile, Von Friede already appeared near the pair as he effortlessly adjusted the arrangement of multi-floored complex. As if space itself was folded, the distance needed to reach the second to last floor was reduced greatly. When the two finally began walking once more, they were unaware that the time they spent reaching the bottom was cut into a third of what it would originally be.
Green blood faded into speckled ash as it dissipated away, and only the green shards of crushed corpses formed a trail behind Hugo's advance. Although he had little to no difficulty dispatching each cultist, the sheer number of the demons left was irritating.
As if caught up in a human wave attack, countless figures ran towards him with all sorts of motions. The smarter ones held appearances with some similarity to his likeness, and they unleashed dozens of techniques that rained down upon him as they ruthlessly threw their bodies forward.
But under the red domain, nothing could even dare to harm him. The thin red lines of the undulating kaleidoscopes as well as the wavy crimson tendrils bashed, pierced, slashed, and parried off every attack coming his way. Miniature red doors opened as chains danced in the air, and each time they returned to their doorways they had already reaped tens of lives.
But despite his head start, he was on the third to last floor, while Balir and Lah stood before the demonic green jade doors with great trepidation.
Well, at least Balir did. Lah was trembling, shaking unceasingly as her chest heaved with heavy breaths that felt as if they were lodged in her throat. Animosity emerged from her form in waves as the air cried under the pressure that eddied about her, murderous intent refining into a cold, sharp edge as five feather tattoos died her whole right hand black.
A swipe to the side resulted in the coffins falling into several cleanly cut pieces. The falling of the ruined structures accompanied the grinding noises of clenching teeth, and veins protruded as they bulged out of the sickly, pale flesh.