Chapter 1131 - 1131 Archangel of Death, Azrael [1]

1131 Archangel of Death, Azrael [1]

“Seriously?”

“Aapith Nation.”

“I don’t feel so good.”

“Well, you were under quite the troublesome curse,” the spells disengaged and her body healed. Take aside the clueless look placed upon Enfia’s visage, Staxius took the new occurrences with stride. ‘-A church serving the adjudicator. Allies are most welcome. She pledged her soul. That is enough for me. I wouldn’t get far looking at the situation from a single perspective. I need to build a strong entourage. I digress,’ he pinched his temple, ‘-I remembered something I shouldn’t have. The Archangels. If heaven is on the move, I need to fight them. Will they come as the seven archdemons or a representation of the seven virtues? Pit against the princes, I have no idea who’ll win. It is said, light always wins over darkness. I’m backed in a corner before anything’s set in stone.’

“Lord Igna, you are most powerful,” said Enfia, “-please, my lord-”

“Hold it, Memphe,” he snuffed the cigarette, “-I need a word with Sathanas. May we have some privacy?”

The attendants left, leaving the room in a daze. The lonesome bulb flickered and swayed the shadows it cast. Sathanas’ body healed though her hair and figure were scarred. “-How long has it been?” he flipped a chair and sat, crossing his arms over the backrest, “-Sathanas?”

“Been a while,” she pressed her eyes, no amber flickered, her memories were lost, “-I don’t know. The last thing I remember was being jailed by my father. No, I was ambushed and then jailed. I don’t know what happen then, everything’s a blur and I thought about escape… no, I couldn’t. They sealed my powers,” she opened her palms, “-I can’t feel the wrath within my heart…”

‘If she’s lost her power,’ he slowed his breath, ‘-she’ll be useless on the battlefield. I don’t need excess weight,’ he looked her body over, ‘-she might be useful if I used the curse of Akina. A worthy vessel to carry the seed of strong demons. I’ll need an army, what better way than-‘ the cold fingers of death caressed his neck, ‘-I’m being stupid. I can’t use her for such a tasteless joke.’

.....

“If my powers are gone…” her expression said all, “-I can’t be of help,” she swallowed hard, her fingers trembled as did her knees and shoulders, “-I remember,” she cupped her mouth and gagged, “-I remember…” her legs trembled violently, she kicked at nothing, “-LEAVE ME ALONE, LEAVE ME ALONE,” her hands were slammed across the table, her legs were spread, she bit her lips and shook her head, nothing seemed to quell her pain, “-HELP ME, AHHHHHHHHHHH,” a guttural scream shook the room.

‘Plagued by her memories,’ he leaned on his elbow and watched, ‘-her body’s reacting to a vivid imagination. She’s got no idea there’s no one here. To her, the assault’s as real as breathing. Her mind’s jumbled, I don’t need a defective piece in my arsenal,’ he stood and peered over her petrified face, “-what you see is nothing, what you feel is nothing, eternal slumber hold peace, you must rest and never wake,” he touched her forehead, “-for the curse of platitude shan’t be easily cured. You’re scarred, like so many others. You must fight for your place, you must regain the powers thee’ve lost,” he leaned into her ear, “-memories are nothing compared to my ire, Sathanas. Will you defy your contract, will you surrender thy soul?” the mind snapped to reality. ‘-Cold eyes,’ she gulped, ‘-the coldness in father’s eyes. He feels nothing towards me, he doesn’t care if I’m scarred or not, I brought the situation on my own, I must atone for my weakness.’

“You must go,” he pressed, white lines expanded across her face then throughout her whole body, “-face your fear, face yourself, and more importantly, face me,” a bright light flashed – the door opened suddenly to Enfia’s worry, “-master?” she interjected, ‘-Sathanas is gone,’ she blinked, ‘-where did she go?’

“The lass has been sent to purgatory,” he smiled, “-I don’t need people who’re weak,” he strode out the room, “-the weak are best kept at arm’s length.”

Purgatory, the place before the princess was related. A room built on black and white, a strange figure split in half, “-you, my dear, have been chosen as a worthy candidate. Face your fear,” the ground split, “-and face yourself, for, in my realm, there are naught but death and destruction.”

*Crash,* a mushroom cloud rose where she landed. ‘The jungle?’ she sat and coughed, ‘-where am I?’ Alas, to the unknowing Sathanas, the realm she’d been sent to, ‘-is the world ruled by Orenmir,’ passed Staxius’s thoughts. ‘-If she’s able to crawl back to reality, she may well have a chance at restoring her foundation. If she fails, her powers will line my sword. Take care of her, Orenmir, dear friend.’ The jungle holding her crash landing was but an oasis. The truth, as she climbed a tree for a better look, was a world without color, a world where the screams of the dead were like chirps. Footsteps gathered,”-die… die… die…”

‘My trial,’ she jumped and raised her arms to the sky, “-ORENMIR, GRANT ME A WEAPON!” a flash of lightning decimated the trees into a smoldering pile of black, “-are you stupid?” echoed from beyond, “-you’re not worthy of a weapon. Long as fear plague’s thee,” the surrounding footsteps, skeletons, merged into a humanoid shape clad in black, “-you shan’t escape,” it grabbed her arms and pinned her to a bolder.

“Remember me?” the darkness fixed into a familiar face, “-I have come to take what is mine,” it threw his hand at her waist and went under her rags, “-you will pay me back.”

“NO, NOOOO!” the attacker’s shadow completely ravaged her body, she screamed and cried, but no one helped. The enigmatic Orenmir floated with her legs crossed, “-morose sight,” she yawned, ‘-no way this one’s going to last. Everyone who comes here is subject to their greatest fear,’ she turned and a truly decrepit sight stretched. Similar lands confined in cells, ‘-the punishment of those I ate are to suffer eternally,’-cruder screams resounded in the distant beyond, ‘-such is the power granted by my wielder. And to willingly throw his daughter into this cesspit, I must admit, my master is no one to be trifled with,’ she looked up, ‘-use me as you see fit, master, I will take her power if she fails.’

Enfia wandered with Staxius in tow. The basement was rather complex for a cathedral, “-here we are,” the narrow walkway opened into a large space with an arched gate. The symbol of Tharis split down the middle, scales spread across the double doors.

“Is this it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “-I’m afraid it’s not-”

“Whatever,” he dusted his shoulder and headed straight for the contraption, “-Makina, stop skulking in the shadows and get over here.” A beautiful young lass skipped past Enfia, who with a scowl, made nothing of the situation, ‘-how did she get in here?’

“Look at it, pops.”

“I know, looks very impressive. Have a go.”

“Oh hell no,” she crossed her arms, “-I’m not daft as to be the guinea pig. By all means, Adjudicator, thee should take the handle of the scales. After all, isn’t that the whole purpose of your powers, pops?”

“Makina,” he paused, “-you have a mouth on you.”

“Yeah, it’s on my face,” she shrugged and was drawn to a shelf and some research papers, “-place’s been used recently.”

“No use beating around the bush,” *Unleash Aura,* power meandered like a thick cloud, “-we best stay outside the chambers,” said Makina, “-and we also better raise a barrier,” to which she drew symbols and clapped, a transparent wall held rose between them and the chamber.

‘I feel the resonance,’ he stretched his arms, ‘-it seems familiar. What resides behind this door might prove useful in what’s to com-‘ an explosion blasted debris and chaos, “-no you don’t,” raising dust across the room.

“Who might you be?” the dust settled. Light rays fell from the ceiling or what remained of it, “-interloper.”

“You survived my attack?” it stepped into the fray; “-I am the Archangel Azrael. I serve the Heavenly Committee, and thus, have been called to stop the Harbinger of Finality. You, Igna Haggard, have been judged as an enemy of existence, as such, as one who represents Death, I shall obey my creed and dispose of thee, Devil.’ Azrael’s raiment was one common in how scripture described the angel. Fair skin, robes that curled and stopped shy of their waist, long legs, and the power of a golden laurel resting atop the curly long blond hair so familiar to the common folks. Her large white wings were one to not scoff at. The power radiating from each word, each movement, and each step sufficed to take the area by storm. She flapped her blue pupils and readied a golden sword, “-and you are?”

“Archangel Azrael,” a mass of darkness gathered at his back, “-you called yourself the angel of death?” he grinned, “-alas, misinformed child, there is but one who wields said title,” purple sparks snapped like jolts, “-and you’re looking straight at him.”

“Nonsense,” she brandished her blade, *-I called upon the powers of retribution, I call upon my authority as one who to deliver the dead to their fate. Grant me the authority I was blessed with – the father cares for his child, and the child obeys his patriarch. Thee who’ve sinned, one faced by the burden of finality, I have come to deliver thy soul from the wretched hand of guilt, Divine-Arts – Repentance* the aura blasted ten-fold – a power so strong quantification seemed naught but a helpless gauge.

“Don’t speak as if I’m dead or need saving,” *Come forth, Orenmir,* the cursed blade manifested, “-we shall see who represents the end.” They vanished into tiny specks of black and gold respectively. They buzzed, and flicked from one end to the other, crashing and striking – the resulting outburst left massive tears and cracks. The fight blasted out of the basement; countless swords hovered beside the Archangel. Staxius was left worst for ware, he gasped, countless cuts dripped blood, “-the power of a demon will never best an angel. Regardless of thy status, Adjudicator, long as I bear the crest of the Father, you shan’t lay a scratch on me. I am one of the seven archangels in service to the heavens. You will have your sentence carried by my hands.”

“Are you done boasting?” the wounds healed, and they hovered a few meters apart, “-don’t you love the smell of the cold air, the sun, and the idyllic landscape at our feet?”

“What are you talking about?” she waved, the golden blades jumped at him, ‘-man, I haven’t had a fight of this caliber in ages,’ Orenmir’s blade vibrated, a deep-crimson hue glowed, ‘-oh, she’s ready for a fight,’ he dodged and dove.

“NO, YOU DON’T!” Azrael gave chase, the swords under her command synced into an arrow shape and darted.

He looked over his shoulder, ‘-she’s fast.’

“Checkmate,” her swords heightened their pace. He dodged by turning to the side, “-YOU’VE LOST!” a portal widened below, ‘-shi-‘ a golden lance dug into his side and out the other, crushing the inner organs like one crumbling a piece of paper. He dropped out of the skies, crash-landing in such a way as to lose half of his torso. An empty expression, blood flowed, “-Azrael, we did it.”

“You sure are powerful for someone who serves under Artanos. Tell me, little girl, where did you learn to wield the power of the Gei Lance?”

“Don’t know,” she giggled,”-father said to shove this into people I don’t like.”

“One way to put it,” they looked over the dead body, “-he’s not returning after a hit from a divine weapon. I fear, the man’s gone.”

“Is that bad, big sister Azrael?”

“No, we just did our job.”

Makina and Enfia watched his last moment hopelessly, “-Enfia, did you betray us?”

“MASTER!”