Fade to White: Descending into Darkness

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic


Oh dear, this one wiped me... After a whoooole year, I bring you the bloody conclusion to this arc.



Be sure to tell me what you think of it, if you feel okay with doing so.



And with this, I leave you to the long-time coming; Chapter 18~!

Chapter 18 (v.1) - The Legacy of The King of War

Submitted: September 08, 2019

Reads: 16

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Submitted: September 08, 2019

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Chapter 18: The Legacy of the King of War



 

"You're… Odin?!" Beelzebub said in sheer disbelief upon seeing the old man in front of him. He believed in the afterlife, of course, as he had been pulled from that endless stream of souls and became the existence he is today. But for someone he had previously slain to show himself… He must truly be dead…

 

"Am I Odin, y'ask? Askin' a difficult question there, boy." He said with a look that appeared to be deep in thought. You could almost hear the gears grinding against each other as Odin came up with his response,

With a snap of his fingers, Odin responded, "'Suppose ya could say I am and am not Odin, boy. Truth be told, yer inside of yer consciousness, and yer also speakin' to Gungnir, lad."

 

"You're Odin… but also Gungnir…?" 

Beelzebub slowly said, deadpanning at the old man as he spoke. Consciousness? An old man's ghost?

"Either I'm dead and sent to my special layer of torment… or-"

 

"Or yer jus' hallucinatin' from blood loss, right? Lemme explain it to ya this way, boy. I'll have to tell ya the way death works in our world, and how the weapons like me gum up the works, y'see?"

"The way… death works?", Beelzebub asked, intrigued and confused. 

"Yeah, that's it. Sit tight and listen well, ya hear? I ain't repeatin' myself cause we ain't got much time left." 

The old man said sternly, lifting a golden finger into the air as he continues.

"The Cycle of life and death. No matter what realm ya come from, what class of life yer tied to… All of us are chained by it. When ya die, yer soul joins the afterlife, a sea of nameless souls like yerself. Them concepts of damnation and ascension ain't a natural part a'this here order. Yer soul is broken down to the purest form of energy, known to us as Mana. It flows and flows through the lands, the seas, the skies and all them living people. Cause o' the perfect balance between death, the lifeblood of the world will at some point recollect into another life, a person's soul, an' join with a body to begin their life. 

 

Divine Armaments, like m'self, cheat the system a bit, y'see. When it's recognized wielder dies, to keep the source of its power; its Shard, alive… It takes a big ol' chunk out of its dead owner's soul an' binds it to the Shard. The Shard is quite efficient in its absorption, though. A piece of a god's soul can last it well over a few thousand years, give or take. The rest, though, that's turned straight away into Mana."

 

Beelzebub, having taken a seat on the… ground… to listen to Odin's story, nods in apprehension as he says, "Alright, explains how you're still here, but not why I'm here. You could have just as easily let me die, but you sealed me inside of my consciousness to do what, exactly?"

Odin replies with an exasperated sigh, "By gods, boy. Do ya still not get it?! I did this to save yer arse! -and to strike a deal with ya, too."

Beelzebub furrows his brow in suspicion at the old man's mention of a 'deal'. "...A deal, huh? What is it, 'let me take over your body and i'll let you keep living', or something like that?"

 

"Ah… something like that. This deal o' mine… I shoulda' called it a pact. I'm willing to bring ya back to a position where ye can keep fightin', as well as my full power. Yer end of the bargain is ta' survive

 

"Survive?" Beelzebub asked, taken aback by the one sidedness of these conditions. "A fair deal, at least for me. But what am I to be surviving?" 

 

A sudden, sharp look of seriousness comes to the eye of Odin as he stares at Beelzebub and gives his reply

"As a warrior, it is my duty as one to see to it that the spirit of battle is not extinguished. What memory this fragment of me has remembers a glimpse of my pride… your death here would tarnish my pride and name if a god-slayer fell to a mere creature of the night. Lastly… As your weapon, it is my duty to perform to my utmost capacity. I have chosen you worthy to wield the true power of myself…"

With a prideful grin, the fallen war god utters these last words as he steps forward to the demon, his hand outstretched to accept his. 

"Despite yer deeds, demon, you've never strayed from the path of the strong. War was never a concept for justice or good and evil, true glory goes to the survivors after all. Now, take my hand and continue yer struggle!"

 

And equally prideful grin grew upon the demon's face, his hand firmly meeting the hand of the avatar of Odin. "You have yourself a deal! Now…" 

When their hands met, the blank landscape around them crumbled like fragmented glass, revealing a  dark background… before fading away, like fabricated reality does… into nothing.

 

Beelzebub's golden eyes, still half-lidded and glazed over with death, regain their color as he begins to rise to his feet. He struggles at first, though the resistance from his body fades as the fatal wound placed on his body seals itself as though it were a scratch. The halved Gungnir rises up from the dirt, bathed in a golden aura as the broken spear forces its segmented shaft back into a whole, and then undergoes its metamorphosis.

"-Full power… Release!"

 

At those words, the Vampire king turns himself around, his eyes widening in shock as he witnesses the prideful smirk on Beelzebub's grow wickedly. "You…?! You were-"

"Hah? I was… were you gonna say dead~?" Beelzebub interjects on the King's words, chuckling as he gripped his spear firmly with his left hand, the black armor contrasting against the opaque golden aura that surrounds it. "You came close, Nosferatu! Very, very close! And with that, I suppose I should thank you!" As the black demon speaks, the golden spear emerges from its aura, bathing the demon in golden particles of energy as he stabs the butt of the spear into the ground. 

 

The overall appearance of the spear remained the same, save for the head. Adorning the end of the shaft, where the blade meets it, are three gemstone-like crystals. The center of the three was an opaque yellow crystal, to its left was a deep crimson crystal and the right a sky-blue crystal. The blade's shape changed in addition, remaining a single head, with the sides of the blade curving ever so slightly to produce three tips, the center being the largest of the three. 

"After all, Nosferatu…", the restored demon says, a twisted grin appearing on his face, "...you were the one to push me beyond my limits!" With these words spoken, Beelzebub points the head of his newly-ascended weapon to Nosferatu, the golden glint of the remaining particles of the aura spiralling faintly from the blade before fading away. 

 

Nosferatu was understandably and totally taken aback by this turn of events. Mere moments ago this demon laid in a pool of his own blood, dying in the dirt, and now he's suddenly back to his peak?

But then, even with all of this… another emotion fills the heart of the King of Bloodfall; excitement. 

His life, his kingdom, the world itself could be at stake if he were to fall yet… it is not fear that grips his heart. For so long since the war, vaguely rekindled when he met the spawn of Ataraxia, a fight like this is something he's yearned for at the back of his mind, on his slowest days. A king he is, yes, but a warrior is ultimately where his heart lies.

With a grin of excitement growing on the vampire's pale face, his red eyes stare forward toward the demon as he raises Illumina, pointing the golden blade to the demon as he says, "So, it was because of me, you say? Fine then!", Nosferatu shouted as he began to charge forward, his hands both on his sword's handle as he closes the gap between him and his adversary, "Allow me to correct my mistake!"  He shouted as he slashed outward at Beelzebub, a golden arc of light following a diagonal path.

 

Beelzebub brought his left hand to the golden shaft of his spear, bracing for impact as Nosferatu charged forward to attack. When the sword was swung, Beelzebub brings the spearhead down and brings it to his left side, his hand on this side lowered toward the part of the shaft that held the blade. His right held firm onto the lower end, which pointed up to the trees as the golden blade collides with the spear shaft. The two adversaries struggle against the other's strength, teeth bared in their struggle with their eyes locked with each other. With a low grunt of effort, the demon takes a forceful step forward as he turns his spear to a horizontal position, twisting the vampire's blade and forcing him to step back. In the single moment Nosferatu's balance was lost, Beelzebub sliced horizontally and cut into the vampire's white armor, fragmenting small pieces off of the plate as it dug into the metal.

The vampire leapt away on his heels once the spear cut into his chestplate, though he was followed closely by the spear-wielder who relentlessly jabs his spear blade at him. Forced to be on the defensive, he fends off the onslaught with his blade and his arm, moving back in sync with the demon's aggressive forward advance. The demon gripped his spear after another successful deflection by his adversary, bringing the blade down to slash Nosferatu's right hand, the hand that held the Illumina. Cutting through his armor with a quick slice, he cut into the flesh on the side of hand, severing the muscles and tendons that allowed him to control his thumb and causing him to drop his sword into the dirt. Almost immediately, his ring began work to repair the damage, but in anticipation of this healing the demon turned the butt of his spear upward, slamming the blunt end into his chin and causing him to stumble back once again.

 

 Falling back, Nosferatu suddenly stopped as his back hits the trunk of a tree. His eyes open, processing the flash of gold headed directly toward him, ducking down within a split second to spare before Gungnir buried itself deep into the wood; right here Nosferatu's head just was. His instincts kicking in, he lunged after Beelzebub barehanded, who had his right hand outstretched as he called for his spear to return. Nosfetatu's right fist flew right into the demon's face, causing him to stumble back from the blow. Recollecting himself, Beelzebub raised his right arm in defense as he deflects the vampire's left fist from striking him again, pushing away as he delivered a direct punch to Nosferatu's jaw with a powerful uppercut from his left fist. The Vampire anchored himself after the punch, bringing his hands together and slamming them down overhead on top of Beelzebub's, raising his knee when the demon dropped to deliver a second attack. 

With the two strong attacks disorienting him, Beelzebub fell to the ground on his back, a thin cloud of dirt rising from above him as blood drips from his face. Grunting as he hit the ground, he opens his eyes to see the vampire pounce on top of him and grab at his arms to pin him down. The two struggle for supremacy in the dirt, the vampire occasionally getting in a few punches to the demon's face during their struggle. Beelzebub yelled out in pained effort after the vampire's last strike, managing to fit his legs under Nosferatu's stomach as he delivers a powerful kick to send the vampire to the dirt. With time bought, Beelzebub slowly gets off of the ground, coughing and panting heavily as he prepares a healing spell to repair his face.

"Hah… Hah…" Beelzebub painfully panted out as he brings his right hand to his face, bathed in a green aura as the blunt force wounds from the surface and internal are slowly repaired.

"It's almost cheating, that ring of yours… Normal people like us need spells while you have it done for you.", The demon said, laboriously chuckling as he spoke, watching the vampire rise to his feet without so much as a scratch. The Vampire, though his wounds were gone, his stamina had not been replenished. "You're exactly right…"Nosferatu said, his breath cutting him off slightly,"...In a war of attrition, it's clear I'd win. But that wouldn't be very fun, would it? That being said, I'm not going to make things easy for you by taking the ring off."

 

With that, their battle continues as the vampire king lunged once again at his adversary, who had raised his fists in anticipation. Suddenly, a sly grin grew on the demon's lips, prompting Nosferatu to turn around. Sure enough, the spear flew forward to stab into him, though it's target had turned in an attempt to avoid it, though not enough. The spear pierces the right forearm of it's target, stopping and anchoring itself in his arm. A deep, powerful yell comes from the wounded King as he falls to the dirt, his arm skewered by the golden weapon. 

Relaxing his stance, Beelzebub walks closer to Nosferatu, flicking his fingers as he steps closer. In response the spear shot up into the air, floating in such a way that the ensnared king was suspended in the air, eye level to his captor.

"Automatic healing is pretty useless if there's something in the way, right?" He asked sarcastically, a sadistic grin on his lips as he gripped the vampire's hair to keep him eye level, blood spurting sporadically from his wound with each slight movement. 

"I could crush your heart right now, or destroy your brain, with such ease it's a joke. But, despite my reputation, I'm willing to be generous and merciful just this once. Join our side in this war, help us claim this realm as our own. With you, at the very least, we could be nigh unstoppable…"

Between muffled groans as he attempted to speak past the pain, Nosferatu replied, his voice carried a tone of sarcasm despite the straining from the pain, "Sorry to say, but I refuse. You see, us vampires are a bit useless in sunlight, and you seem to have night battles covered by yourselves…!" With an agonizing groan, Nosferatu pulled against the immovable spear after he spoke, ripping his arm free with a squelching spurt of blood. He swiped his half-arm as he fell, drenching the demon's eyes with his spewing blood, sending him into a sort of panic as he attempted to clear his eyes. Dropping to the ground, the ring began to work overtime on regrowing his right arm as he rolled away from the demon, toward his sword.

 

"Gah! Damned disgusting fool!" The demon shouted in disgust and annoyance as he covered his eyes with his hands to clear them of the crimson liquid. With this distraction cutting off his command from the spear, it simply returned to its dormant state with the spearhead tilting down to drop into the dirt, the severed arm sliding off first and bouncing slightly beside the downed spear. After the demon spends nearly a minute on his eye cleaning he looks forward, his eyes widening as he witnesses the vampire ahead of him, his sword drawn and a golden aura flowing endlessly from it's blade. The vampire opens his crimson eyes and stares coldly at the demon as he rose the Illumina to the trees and shouted; "Vestigium Ignis-!"

These words called quiet thunder from the skies beyond the trees, a sound which grew louder as seconds passed. In response to the sounds, the demon subconsciously pulled his spear into his hands, in no less time it took for a golden band of lightning to take its place. He stepped back, only to register three more around him; one to his left, one to his right and one behind him. His pulse quickened as he searched for a way out, sensing the faint energy all around him separate from the bolts that don't seem to want to vanish in a timely fashion. Beelzebub's investigation is interrupted by a flash of light above him, which he raises his spear to in defense; a thick, oncoming lightning bolt from high above his head. As he braces himself for impact, he noticed a faint surge in the bolt above him as it grew in size, then another as it reached the half-point in the lightning trap. A third increase as it looms overhead, now the size of the trap itself before it's reaching, rootlike end strikes the spear, violently forcing itself against the golden weapon and sending its energy all throughout the spear. Beelzebub yells out in extremely pained effort as the energy surges through his body, sending every one of his nerves into overdrive with sparkling pain as he pushes against the bolt. Lightning flicks suddenly off the ends of the spear, into the barrier where it is harmlessly absorbed into it, the powerful bolt of lightning forcing him to fall to one knee. 

Slowly, he turns the spearhead to face up to the bolt, the energy now colliding and focusing into the tip of the spear, doing nearly nothing to protect him from the energy surging through his veins as he yells out once more, struggling to rise back to his feet. 

"What?!"  Nosferatu shouted as he watches the demon begin to take back his footing against the lightning bolt, the ground around the demon blackening from the excess energy.

With one more, final push, Beelzebub forces himself back up to his feet as he thrusts the spear upward, the blade forced into the descending bolt of lightning. When this last thrust was made, the straight shape of the bolt twisted and contorted and began to clash with the columns of lightning, breaking down their and its stability with a blinding flash of light and a clap of surging, thunderous booms.

 

The sword, after Nosferatu's spell was cast, lost it's golden aura. The changes made to his armor had faded as the sword began to lose its power, barely strong enough to hold its unified state together. He stumbled back his spell was destroyed, using the sword to block the light from his eyes as it flooded the landscape. As it dimmed and vanished, he lowered his sword from his face to survey the area and the aftermath of his spell. 

As it crossed in front of his chest, the lightning bolt shot forth from the dust in front of him, striking violently the flat of his blade. The sword was brought to his chest as he began to struggle against the perfectly straight surge of lightning, his left hand pushing against the blade and granting him an arm's length of distance from it. 

As he pushed against it, he saw a figure in the fading dust cloud, its right hand extended toward him. As it blows away, a wounded Beelzebub is revealed; His left hand holds onto a damaged and exposed part of his chestplate, his right eye closed as he panted heavily. His right arm was extended and seemed to have taken the most damage. His armor, up to his shoulder, was completely gone and broken apart. His clothing underneath was torn to black, ribbon like shreds and his pale flesh was burned from his hand to his elbow, streaks alone remaining undamaged. 

Between breaths, he spoke laboriously, "You've lost… Nosferatu…" As he says this, the relentless force of the lightning bolt, his spear, presses further into the blade, causing cracks to develop along the blade. They spread, and widen more and more… Until the golden blade shattered like glass, allowing the lightning bolt to run the vampire through unabated, right through his heart. A look of shock fills the vampire's eyes as he looks down at his chest, singed and glowing from the heat of the bolt, before coughing out a lungful of blood, falling backwards into the dirt. 

 

The Vampire falls, and the demon smirked devilishly once more as he views the shocked expression of his son, who stands on the incline behind them, his hand outstretched in desperation, his red eyes completing his absolutely stunned expression.

 

"Ahh… you've come just in time, you four."

 


© Copyright 2019 Allen Darkmyst. All rights reserved.

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