Chapter 62: Volume 2 - Prologue
From the battlements of the Citadel Tzal, one could be forgiven for thinking the city below was engaged in a frenzy of battle.
Everywhere one looked, the signs of activity were constant and frenetic as demons of every shape and type hurried about, gathering resources before the massive, vertical circle at the northern vertex of the roughly teardrop-shaped city, carved of black and grey stone and built over half of a deceased caldera.
Those with wings, mostly imps, held much smaller loads in bags on their fronts as they waited on rooftops. Their wings and tails twitched with nervous energy as the hundreds of magic circles inscribed on the circle gently pulsed with gathering mana, a sickly green color washing on and off as it darkened towards blue slowly.
Before the aperture, the largest demons held staves the size of pillars as they guarded it against the crowd, while in the air dozens of similarly sized demons hovered in deterrence of their winged siblings.
At the very peak of the towering Citadel stood a single figure. A towering, three-meter-tall demon with red skin, a massive spiked and fleshy tail, and fiery red hair looked out as his clawed hands rested on the banister.
Maledict, Duke of Heresy, watched the gate and his subjects with equal interest. It had taken him most of the last twenty years to devise the complex circles that ringed the massive construct on each stone, and soon, within the year, he believed, he would see the results of his efforts. Amidst the crown of horns on his head burned a perpetual flame, more for show than practicality. A sign to any demon that looked his way that their Duke was watching. He kept his wings stowed away, a display of intent that he would remain where he stood.
Already small Perditions were forming, enough to where his two little visits to Ayther had little impact on the powering of the gate, which he could control almost at will thanks to the sympathetic magic circles he’d carved into his very body, hidden by clever flesh shaping. To his eyes, the sky above was filled with strands, formations of mana that reached out toward the blue and green world above. The gate waited only for a connection between there and here, and so did his people.
A shadow large enough to cast its darkness upon even the towering figure of Maledict crawled across the Citadel as a being far larger than him landed behind him. Maledict did not turn, despite knowing the presence of the female demon he’d battled with time and time again in his youth.
"Leviathan. You’re late," Maledict stated. "I thought you might miss what I invited you here to see."
"The skies grow chaotic as the Eye opens. You know this." Her form, which was best described as a mix of human and dragon, came with a deep yet feminine voice. She settled in next to him, taking a smaller form, yet still taller than him as she became more humanoid. "I see you are meeting me in your battle form. Pining for our old fights?" she chuckled. In her humanoid form she was still broad and barrel-bodied, scaled in most places and vibrantly purple, with thick slabs of muscle barely hidden by the form-fitting bodysuit she wore. It was made of a substance called ashflesh, which hugged her every crevice with its shining grey texture. It did not cover any part of her tail but the base, leaving the spiked, fleshy appendage free to swing with its razor-tipped scales.
"Only if you try something. I trust you came alone?" He watched as the first spark of near-connection formed at the center of the gate; yet he knew it would not last. Even as the spark died out, an eager group of imps tried to rush forward, only to be beaten back by the aerial guards.