I barely have a second to try and count the number of Satanihilus that meet us at the gates. The instant we link up with the rest of the forces, a teleportation sigil glows beneath us and we're dropped just outside of Cain's Throne.
I smell it before I see it. The overwhelming stench of blood, so visceral and pungent that I can taste it in the air. The second Cain's Throne comes into vision, I can see why too.
The Loyalists showed no mercy when breaking through the guardsmen posted here. The few corpses that I can see have been all but brutalised, scorched to death, skewered or mutilated limb from limb.
Cain's Throne is far more visually appealing than I'd expected. Zekram's words had brought Guantanamo Bay to mind, but instead I'm looking at a fucking Mariott hotel.
If it wasn't for the chain-link fencing and the Manasceran Steel collars linked around the inmates necks, I'd assume this was a bloody holiday resort. Marble statues and well trimmed hedges line the entryway to a gargantuan holding area, where hundreds of inmates live and, regretfully, thrive.
Of course, the place is an absolute shitheap right about now, corpses and blood thrown everywhere the eye can see, but that's on account of the ongoing battle more-so than the decor.
The entire front wall of the compound has been blown asunder, more than likely having been Daimadosu's entry point as he decimated the guard, whole battalions of Loyalists now holding the entrance and lining the roof of the compound.
I can't help but notice some of them wearing white jumpsuits, prisoners who have already been freed that chose to fight for their liberator. Either they don't know the situation of the war, they're fucking stupid, or they didn't have a choice.
With several hundred Satanihilus now surrounding the prison, I'd expected us to rush in and siege the building, destroying any hint of the Loyalists here and calling it a day, but instead Sirzechs takes a few steps forward to the entrance of the prison.
I get his whole shtick is the merciful man, the man of second chances, but time is of the essence. I'm not sure this is a good idea when Daimadosu could already have freed the men he wants and be gone by now.
"I greet you in peace, Loyalist forces. I'm sure you know who I am by now. I stand before you to make an offer." His voice echoes all across the bloodied compound.
"This is your one opportunity. Your one chance to surrender and be taken peacefully. I promise, on my name as a Gremory, that you will-"
In the blink of an eye, several hundred spells fire off at Sirzechs. Any element I could think of, any shape I could conjure. They hurl any and everything they can think of at him. Thousands of projectiles, explosions, constructs and spells.
As they toss Mana at him with enough force to level a building, they laugh. They jeer. I had expected the Loyalists to be comprised of unwilling soldiers and poor bastards, but... they seem to fucking revel in this.
Of course, the General is utterly untouched by the end of the onslaught. Having jumped back several meters and watched the ensuing destruction with a frown on his face, Sirzechs mumbles something under his breath that I can only barely make out.
"Your choice is made."
He turns to me and Roygun, his eyes now set in grim determination, his words focused on me to my surprise.
"The worst prisoners are kept beneath the compound, in the Sublevels. If Daimadosu is anywhere, that's where he'll be. I'll do my best to stop him, but I'll need you both to help take this prison while I do it."
He puts a hand on my shoulder, looking almost apologetic.
"These Devils, these soldiers here beside me, they each have families and loved ones. People who would want to see them again. They don't deserve to die fighting for a righteous cause like ours."
His eyes harden yet again, but in them I see an overwhelming amount of faith. I've barely known him for a few days, but he's seemingly confident I can do this.
"Ensure that none of these good men fall today. I know you can do it, Alistair."
Then, in the blink of an eye, Sirzechs dashes forward through the dust and debris, his form nothing more than a blur as beams of raw Destruction exit his open palms. Anything they make contact with simply ceases to exist in this realm, several Loyalists being almost entirely erased in fractions of a second, leaving the rest of them panicking and lost.
As the last man who Sirzechs spoke to, the Satanihilus seemingly look to me to guide them in his stead, mistakenly assuming me to be his second in command. My thoughts are anywhere but here, though.
My frustrations, my malice, it all has been building up since the moment I first met Bidleid, bubbling away for days. Every lash, every wound that was dealt against me in Lucifaad, I remember each one vividly. Hatred is the best fuel in this world, and I have been sitting on mine for far too long.
I will not allow a single Loyalist to walk away from this prison unscathed, be they the average mook and his regiment, or Daimadosu fucking Asmodeus himself, and I will do it all without a single dead soldier on our side. That is my promise.
With my resolve strengthened, I move forward atop a mound of rubble as the rebels watch my every step with anticipation, Sirzechs' distraction giving me ample time to enact my plan.
Summoning every ounce of fury in my body, I slam Caduceus into the ground and cast my Circle of Life, the Augment working overtime as I extend the radius almost two hundred meters wide. In short time, this entire prison is encompassed in the Circle.
"Satanihilus!" I shout, my own voice straining, audible across the entirety of Cain's Throne.
"As long as I draw breath, you shall not die! Your wounds will be my burden!"
One of the Loyalists atop the compound notices my shouting, and tries to skewer me through the chest with several pikes summoned both above and below me.
With surprising ease I dodge to the side, summoning Thorn into my hand as I move and firing a single round into his head shortly after. Oh, fuck yes, this thing is a beaut.
225EXP!
Level Up! (3 Stat Points!)
He falls to the floor instantly, green ichor cascading from every pore in his skin as his body withers away from the inside out.
Seconds later, all that remains of him is a feint, green phantasm floating where he once stood, a hollow soul that drifts towards my now outstretched palm. The instant I make contact with it, my body is set aflame with euphoria.
Now following nothing but pure Instinct, I then raise Caduceus and point it towards Cain's Throne. As I raise my blade, the Loyalists watch my every move with terror, empowering me even further.
"Ravage them!"
Like clockwork, hundreds of Devils cry out in unison, flying forward into Cain's Throne with no hesitation, and like clockwork the EXP flows in.
Kill Contribution! 15EXP!
Kill Contribution! 15EXP!
Kill Contribution! 15EXP!
I push aside the contribution Alerts soon after, unable to stop the smile on my face as they roll in one after another.
This was always my true forte. I may be a cockroach, a creature of pure survival, but my main wheelhouse is in dominating a battlefield and creating nigh immortal soldiers.
Every strike the Satanihilus connect heals every single rebel for almost their full HP across the entire battlefield. As long as I deem them my allies, they will be nothing short of unkillable, and so too will I.
Thus begins the slaughter.
------------------------------------
My goal is to take control of the central building of Cain's Throne while the Satanihilus take the roof and collapse in, so following the charge I bring out my wing and fly into the compound with as much speed as I can gather.
With the force of a speeding truck, I collide with a Loyalist watching through one of the windows, our bodies utterly pulverised by the collision. I don't even feel a fraction of the pain before my Circle of Life heals it all away.
-3228HP!
7710HP!
From my position on this walkway now, I can see both the lower and upper floor of this prison, several Devil's cowering in their cells as blood is spilt en masse outside, seemingly not worthy of being freed.
An explosion to my side throws me off my footing momentarily, two Loyalists charging in with swords raised, another one sending a spell at me from several meters away. The first one I Parry aside with Caduceus, giving me a small window to shoot the second one in the head with Thorn.
225 EXP!
Level Up (3 Stat Points!)
His Soul flows into my body, and with the empowerment it brings I slam the pommel of Caduceus into the side of his friend's skull, throwing him to the floor. Another shot from Thorn seals the deal.
225EXP!
Just as the ranged Loyalist is about to send a spell my way, to blast me with an explosion enough to make my ears ring, I cut him off with a Doppelganger that I send flying at him. Almost instantly, the clone slits his throat, disappearing shortly after.
225EXP!
Level Up (3 Stat Points!)
DANGER
Two more Devils appear from behind me, one taller than a fucking bus wielding a massive hammer and the other deftly wielding a spear as they charge me down.
As the hammer rapidly approaches my skull, about to turn me into mush, I don't bother trying to Parry it. Instead I fire a round into his elbow with Thorn, the poison staggering him enough to give me a dodge window to also avoid the spear being thrust at my chest. I try to shoot spearman with Thorn as well, but I'm met with an empty cylinder.
With some distance put between us, I notice something. The poison doesn't instantly kill hammerboy, so clearly he must be made of sterner stuff.
A quick cast of Wandering Eye confirms my suspicions, hammerboy and spearman are higher level than me.
Salpur Balam
Level 168
Visarak Bifrons
Level 152
Normally, I'd be quite hesitant in this battle. Playing it safe, using my tricks to my advantage. But, I have one distinct, undeniable card in my hand at this moment. Unlimited healing.
The second Salpur moves forward, his hammer raised in an overhead swing, I dismiss Thorn and raise my own palm forward, Magic Circle thrumming with power.
"FREIKUGEL!"
The majour downside of Freikugel is the cost. HP and MP, a constant investment as long as the beam burns. But, when I have infinite HP, I have infinite MP too with Mana Conversion.
Salpur grunts in pain as the beam burns through his hammer, but holds on for several seconds as he tries to take a step forward. Even after the weapon melts and his chest takes the full brunt of the spell, he takes a step forward.
-710HP!
-710MP!
7710HP!
710MP!
Feeling admittedly shocked at his endurance, I cast a second Freikugel with my other hand and watch as a gaping hole is burnt into Salpur's chest shortly after, the mountain of a man falling down instantly.
-710x2HP!
-710x2MP!
Immediately after that I drag the two beams towards spearboy, and to his credit Visarak tries to block them with his spear, but the weapon melts away in seconds, his body shortly after.
1700EXP!
x6 Level Up! (18 Stat Points)
1500EXP!
x5 Level Up! (15 Stat Points)
Shortly after they go down, the Circle of Life drops with them. I'd expected to hear copious screaming and crying from men now finally being wounded, but I am met with occasional screams only.
The Prison is ours. I'd expected much more resistance than we actually met, and I can only assume that's because the rest of the Loyalists followed Daimadosu's footsteps. All that remains is the occasional straggler hiding in a cell or a passageway.
Fuck me, I should've never bothered with the Lucifaad Incursion. I'd be level 500 by now if I'd committed myself wholeheartedly to the frontlines.
Well... that's what I'd like to tell myself, but realistically Grayfia is worth far more than a few hundred levels. I'd even say she-
DANGER
Despite their fear, despite how terrified they must be after the Freikugel burnt their strongest to ash, the Loyalists hiding in a cell nearby still charge on me when they see me lost in thought, sending spell after spell my way to cover their imminent melee combat.
Wanting to make the most of my arsenal, I cast a spell of my own, my hand coated in thunderous purple lightning as I lift the unfortunate men into the air with Gravity Magic.
-2210MP!
Just as I'm about to conjure a series of ice spikes beneath them that I could skewer them on, I feel a hand on my arm. Expecting Sirzechs, I'm instead shocked when I see Zekram's bodyguard, Roygun.
"I would advise you not to do that." She says, "The last heir of Clan Flauros is among those Loyalists."
"I'm sorry, have you just been standing here watching this battle play out? Have you actually done anything to help?" She smiles.
"I've done as I was instructed. Minimised the loss of noble life. Of course, I was hoping to convince you to spare Lord Balam but..." She motions towards the charred dust that was once a Devil with a grimace.
"I suppose I was a tad slow. Lord Bael will not be pleased with this, young man."
...I don't like the way she said young man. In fact, I don't think I like anything about her at all.
"Frankly I don't care what Lord Bael likes and doesn't like. They tried to kill me."
DANGER
Just as she is about to respond, one of the Devils I'd left suspended twists his wrist, his Magic Circle conjuring a veritable blender of wind blades that tear my leg into pieces before I can fully move away.
-927HP!
The Circle of Life is gone now, so I have to cast a Prayer to fix the wound, and the pain of my achilles being sliced into is no doubt going on the top 10 'I fucking hated that' list.
With an admittedly unexpected snarl, I drag the group of Devils towards me in the air and lock eyes with the man who tried to slice me asunder, instantly noticing just who it is.
Kraphel Flauros
Level 71
Of fucking course.
Not trusting myself, I throw the suspended Flauros at Roygun's feet before I can decide to kill him, his friends following after as well given I've no care for them. All she does is smile, pulling the Manasceran Steel collar from a dead inmate nearby and locking it around Kraphel's neck.
All that's left is to clear out the compound and heal any wounded I come across, be they inmates or Satanihilus. Already, several rebels are considering going down into the Sublevels to try and aid Sirzechs.
Honestly, that's probably the worst decision they could make. Sirzechs is the only man I can think of who is at an active disadvantage with his soldiers at his side. Destruction doesn't discriminate, after all. One slip up and a Satanihilus dies. Poor bastard probably has to hold back in every battle he's a part of.
Just as I'm lost in my thoughts, reloading a new cylinder into Thorn's chamber as the Satanihilus sweep the rest of the compound, one of them comes up to me and does something I'd never expect.
He places his fist on his chest, and bows.
"Demi-fiend, Sir. The holding cells have been cleared of any Loyalist presence, and the inmates have been re-housed. The wounded are being brought to you as we speak. What are your orders?"
...what the fuck?
"Why are you asking me?" I say, confused beyond all belief. "Don't you have like a Lieutenant, or a Captain or something? Can't you just ask the General?"
The Satanihilus guardsman looks almost surprised to hear me say that.
"Lord Cimerius has not been seen in weeks. Given your arrival with the General, I had assumed you were his replacement as Lieutenant. As for General Gremory... he has not answered any of our communications."
That... doesn't bode well. Not for Sirzechs' health, he's an absolute monster in all definitions of the word. It's just concerning. His only opposition down there should be Daimadosu, someone who is without question weaker than him.
Granted, it's only been roughly 5 minutes since he left, but that's still 4 minutes too many. Something's gone wrong down there. I can almost guarantee.
The Sublevels are chock full of Clan Devils, heinous ones, but extremely valuable ones. What are the chances Daimadosu got what he wanted, and is using Sirzechs' own unwillingness to go against Lord Bael's wishes against him?
What if the poor bastard is fighting a 5v1 where he can't even fight back without risking some valuable blood? Just to make sure, I send a transmission to the General, and am met with nothing.
"Bring me the wounded, as fast as you can."
"By your command, Lord Demi-fiend."
I don't have enough care in me to correct him on my name, instead focused on the few inmates being carried my way on gurneys after I give the command.
It'll take too long to heal them all with a Prayer. Time I might not have before Daimadosu fucks off to Lucifaad again.
Unwilling to wait the 25 seconds between each Prayer, I instead summon a Circle of Life, scratching Roygun's leg with Caduceus to heal each inmate, much to her chagrin. I don't much care for her woe, though.
I give one last order to the Satanihilus beside me, and prepare myself for what awaits in the Sublevels.
"Lock the building down, nobody gets in, nobody gets out. And Roygun, please do something. Literally fucking anything."
I admit, I'm not quite the General when it comes to commanding a room, but I'd like to think I've got the point across, enough so that I can run forward to the Sublevels without worrying that I've forgotten something.
As I pass through the dark, fetid stairwell, cordoned off from the rest of the luxurious compound, I can't help but feel this... overwhelming determination in me.
All those memories; the grey walls, the purple fire, the red eyes. I've not forgotten them. Not a single second. I will give unto him what he gave me. Fear. Agony. Helplessness.
I won't let him leave this prison alive, bloodlines be damned. Today, the Asmodeus will die.