Chapter 171: No Blood by the Hearth
Maha took onest hop as she ascended thest hundred meters of the cliff, ending in front of a stone wall. She tilted her head slightly, gazing at the stone wall that covered the side of the mountain. She was deep within the Iron Hammer mountain range, precisely where she had been instructed to go. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved a special Grahanam Crown. With a flick, it began to vibrate and emit a low hum. She brought it closer to her ear, listening for the distinctive signal that would confirm she was in the right ce.
Sure enough, she could hear the exact tone that signalled her proximity to her destination. It was a clever invention her master and his old friends had devised—a modified Grahanam Crown that transmitted messages through vibration and sound. Deciphering the code requires someone to teach you, no other way to figure it out.
After receiving confirmation, she pocketed the coin and approached the stone wall. As she passed through the illusion, she felt the coin in her pocket heat up and vibrate intensely. The stone wall had concealed a cave entrance, and as Maha moved deeper into the cave, she could sense the familiar cold seeping into her skin. Then, a soft voice rang in her ears, a unique hymn that marked the presence of the ever-dramatic Shadowborn.
<i>Pale is the prison I doom thee to dwell</i>
<i>Room for just one but two in the cell</i>
<i>Dusk is upon us, know that it has fell</i>
<i>Darkness is honest, are you to yourself?</i>
Then she paused as she waited for the prompt for the password. Soon enough, the voice came forth again.
<i>What is the dreamer’s lie?</i>
“All nightmares have an end.” Maha replied, and the cold faded away. Maha sighed as she continued deeper into the cave.
It didn''t take long before she heard the crackling of a fire. Turning a corner, she saw it—a small, crackling fire burning for a group with perfect night vision and immunity to the cold. The fire was a tradition of the Shadowborn, though ironically, they despised light and fire. It consisted of enchanted wood with an enchanted sword impaled in the center, the source of the orange mes. There was a rule to this gathering: no bloodshed by the hearth. In Shadowborn tradition, all attendees were required to leave their weapons at the door. If anyone desired conflict, their best weapon was a scalding hot sword in the me.
"If you crave blood, grasp the fire," Maha thought, considering the saying that those who seek vengeance should dig two graves. One for themselves and one for their foe. It was ironic how the Shadowborn, despite their symbol of a burning me, had fallen victim to petty vengeance. Their destinies were foretold within the very mes they despised.
Around the fire stood a group of individuals Maha hadn''t seen in a long time. The Crowfather Phizaros, in his original form, stood with his arms crossed. He was a towering figure with arge, ck-feathered body and four glowing red eyes. Next to him was the Drowned Admiral Pufferia, her hair was just a mass of matted ck wool dripping with cursed sea water. Her goat-like features stared unblinkingly at the fire as she stood motionless. When Maha approached, Pufferia turned her head, revealing the rotted skull that upied the other half of her face, within it’s rotted and maggot-filled eye socket glowed an ominous green magic eye.
On the opposite side of the fire stood the ck-cloaked Nemesis, her face hidden by a white bone mask. She stood as still as a statue, and when she noticed Pufferia, she too turned her head, revealing the twisted mask that bore an expression of madness.
Thest member of the gathering was someone Maha had not expected to see, the archdemon stor, with his goat-like head and ming wings. But Maha knew him by a different name.
"Wyllvur," Maha said coldly as she approached, and stor shed her his usual winning smile.
"Why the long face, little one? I remember all the fun we had," stor replied, extending his arms as if to embrace her. However, Nemesis intervened, grabbing the front of stor''s suit.
"Stop," Nemesis said coldly, her white mask turned toward stor, emanating intense hatred.
"Come now, Niki, no need to get nasty," stor teased, and Maha sensed the magic radiating from Nemesis.
"Enough, no bloodshed by the hearth," Phizaros growled, and the two immediately backed off. In this confined space, a fight would favour Phizaros and Maha, both of whom were skilled melee fighters. Phizaros had helped raise Maha, making it obvious whose side she would take.
"We''re here to discuss the Great Beast," Phizaros announced, calming the room.
"Then discuss," Pufferia scoffed, clearly disinterested.
"It''s evident that we all want different things from the Great Beast," Nemesis pointed out, turning to face Phizaros.
"Yes, but I believe our interests can align," Phizaros responded calmly.
"How so? I want to see Heaven burn, while you merely seek to decapitate their leadership. I won''t stop at the Divine Council and the Virtues. I''ll make Heaven burn hotter than Hell itself," Nemesis dered coldly.
"I don''t care what you do; I just want Divonia gone. If I get to burn the elves in the process, all the better," Pufferia added as she absent-mindedly tapped her exposed skull, from which writhing maggots emerged.
"I''m sure an attack on Divonia won''t be an issue, butplete destruction might pose a problem," Maha interjected. She knew the Great Beast well enough to understand that he wouldn''t agree to total annihtion. It would simply be too wasteful in his view.
"Why? Why would the Great Beast care?" Pufferia inquired.
"Tribute does not flow from a dead race," Maha exined calmly, and Pufferia snorted in response.
"So after everything we''ve done, we end up right back where we started? With the Firstborn pressing us into the ground," Pufferia grumbled.
"This one is different," Maha said, ncing at Nemesis. "That''s why you haven''t approached him yet, is it? He''s not bloodthirsty enough. He even spared an angel from you, though I suspect that whole incident was a show on your part."
"He''s sharper than I anticipated. I never expected him to manipte the angels so effectively," Nemesis admitted.
"Underestimating the Firstborn is not a good strategy for survival," stor chimed in with a mocking chuckle.
"Nor is hiding beneath a Daemon Prince''s boot," Nemesis retorted with a scoff.
"Ah, but you see, I''m ying the long game," stor replied with a grin.
"Oh, for fucks sake, get to the point," Pufferia eximed, ring at stor as she ced a hand on her sabre.
"I''d much prefer the Great Beast to rule Hell," stor said, and Pufferia withdrew her hand from her sabre''s handle.
"How do you n to achieve that?" Nemesis inquired.
"Simple, through war," stor replied, his grin widening. "After all, you''re already doing splendidly in the north. I couldn''t resist adding a little extra chaos to Divonia."
"Still doesn''t answer my question," Pufferia remarked dryly.
"With so much happening, I think the Great Beast could use a vacation in a more infernal climate," stor suggested, and Nemesis shot him a piercing look.
"You want to bring the Great Beast into Hell? Are you mad?" Nemesis protested.
"Why would he even go?" Maha questioned, crossing her arms.
"The Searing Hells are on the brink of civil war," stor stated, though the expressions in the room indicated that everyone knew civil wars in the Searing Hells weremonce.
"Not just any war; my liege, Asmodeus, intends to make a bid for the title of Prime Evil," stor revealed, capturing everyone''s attention. A bid for the Prime Evil meant the onset of a Blood War, pitting all the Rings of Hell against each other. It would be absolute chaos, and Blood Wars typically spilled over into Terra.
"Demons spilling over into Terra..." Maha mused.
"You want to send the Great Beast to Hell under the pretext of preventing the Blood War," Maha observed, and stor shed her a wide smile.
"Bingo," stor confirmed.
"But what about the seal? Hell''s forces can''t enter Terra en masse unless you lift the seal," Phizaros pointed out.
"I happen to have acquired the Morningstar Crown," stor announced, causing the room to fall silent. The Morningstar Crown was the artifact Prime Evil Magne Morningstar had used to seal the Hells, preventing most beings from entering or leaving without an invitation. The removal of this seal would lead to all-out war. Terra would be a battleground as the forces of Heaven and Hell shed.
"And now, the most interesting part—the Morningstar Crown can offer the Great Beast the ck Heart," Phizaros stated after a moment''s pause. The ck Heart was Hell''s core, and if the Great Beast devoured it, he would effectively consume all of Hell itself—a feat no Firstborn had ever achieved.
"If the Blood War spills into Terra, it would keep the angels upied. I could use that opportunity to wreak havoc among the Divonian coast," Pufferia said, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
"Or ports," stor added with a grin.
"Oh, don''t tempt me," Pufferia replied as the cking and cracking sounds from her exposed skull echoed with her widening grin.
"So, what''s your decision?" stor turned to Maha and Phizaros.
"It sounds like you''ve thought it all through," Phizaros replied coolly.
"Oh, I have. So what will you do?" stor asked.
"For now, nothing," Phizaros answered.
"Ah, mysterious as always. I love it when you keep me guessing," stor said with a chuckle, ncing at Maha, who sighed.
"If the Great Beast is heading to the Searing Hells, I suppose I''ming along. Demons won''t betray us to the angels. They''re too cowardly to risk their own lives," Mahamented, taking a jab at stor, who only bowed in acknowledgment.
"I''m honored by such high praise," stor replied, and Maha felt a familiar migraine building.
"I''d ask you, but I already know your answer," stor said, turning to Nemesis, who simply turned her head away, seething.
Maha couldn''t help but give stor credit; his n left Nemesis with no choice but to go along with it. If she continued her war in the north, it would only divert the angels'' resources away from stor''s plot. She couldn''t abandon her war just to spite stor without jeopardizing everything.
So, what could she do? She could only proceed with her original n and let this demon use it to further his own goals.
"You know, stor, you''re not so bad. You''re a cunt, but sometimes I almost like you," Pufferia remarked, smirking despite her half-rotted face.
"Come now, old friend, no need for crude insults. If the circles of Hell ever heard I was considered likable, I''d never live it down," stor replied sarcastically.
In response, Pufferia let out a loud barkingugh, and the room echoed with cking and cracking sounds emanating from her rotted skull.
<b><i>You really are a cunt…</i></b>