Fantasy Hunter's Moon: Ascendancy [IC] [CLOSED]

[Emperor Sagan]

Time moved at a paradoxical pace - in the blink of an eye, Aleister felt as if everything was happening at once, yet his body felt as if he had been fighting for a lifetime. In a way, he had. All of his long years had brought him to this moment. One, brutal moment that was surely another step on a bloodied path that, even as it shortened, showed little end in sight. He gritted his teeth and watched the brutality of Keggoth's death with a degree of cold jubilation and discomfort, for even in his most venomous fantasies of death he never stomached the unclean mess of animalistic slaughter. Time may have felt wrong, but there was no denying where he was: a slaughterhouse.

His spirit remained a simmering forge, however; even as Thorgran began to mutate horrifically. Aleister's eyes grew hooded, his gaze sharper than his fangs as they bit into his own lips. His cheeks twitched with a contemptuous snarl. They were battered, yet on the cusp of ending these creatures until Thorgran's form changed once again into that of something indescribable. Aleister sucked in a rare breath, a deeply involuntary gesture brought on by intense emotional responses. Seeing this thing before him, this demonic filth, this creature of unrepentant sin... it disgusted him. In his periphery he saw his comrades bloodied and beaten, many fighting on, nearly all broken in some way, but before him Aleister only saw Thorgran.

Aleister's fist trembled and he directed it into the stonework floor, cracking his fingers and breaking his knuckles in. His rage, his righteous hatred at everything and everyone, boiled over and took over that forge within his soul, flooding it with molten iron that yielded to no crucible.

His powers and divine magicks did not grant him great strength to fight, but they did give him the ability to alter life to some degree, to mend flesh where it was rendered undone. To manipulate life was the call of the vampire in many ways, yet his abilities were more pure than the simple debasement of biting a neck and supping on blood, nor were they as crude as tinctures of medicine and gauze.

"Undite," he whispered through lips bloody with his own barely self-contained frenzy. His hands buzzed with the unmitigated power of a building spell of healing, different as it now felt. There was no soothing chill, no light comfort of a cool night's caress. He felt as if he was burning himself alive and reaching his hands into the sun. Blood and drool ran down his chin as he continued to whisper to himself.

"....Undite... I know you wanted me to be better... but right now... I feel only hate." There was precious little divine faith in his body any longer, for it had run dry since the terrible times of the previous years. Whatever overcame him now, whatever magicks he harnessed, be it the same as it was before or something different, it felt unlike anything he had summoned before. Every godsdamn moment of pacifism in his life, all those minutes of refusing to raise a hand to ensure violence did not propagate, burned away within him like an unspent currency. He thought it had all disappeared that night in the theater, when his close intimates and himself slaughtered so, so many with their bare hands in the lamplight, but this was a moment of pivotal importance. It may not have been Sazak before him, but it was one of his pawns. And he would not lose... not today... not tomorrow... not ever.

 

[Infab]

Dwarven Citadel - Mines - Icon Fight - Turn Six

Constantine uses Special Attack: Penance Stare! Chance Roll = 5. Chance Successful! Does 100 DMG to Thorgran'ganos! Thorgran'ganos has been stunned for a turn! Thorgran'ganos HP = 68.
Sebastian = 5 + 2 (7, Focus Fire!) Acc. Roll = 13. Does 30 DMG to Thorgran'ganos. Thorgran'ganos HP = 38.
Rajko uses Deafening Screech. Chance Roll = 3. Chance Failed!
Xiaòzhou attempts to heal Azathor. Chance Roll = 8. Chance Successful! Azathor regains 6 HP. Azathor HP = 6.
Xiaòzhou uses The 10 Trials of Adriel. Chance Roll = 6. Chance Successful! Does 45 DMG to Thorgran'ganos. Thorgran'ganos has been slain!
Aleister uses Divine Favor! Chance Roll = 6. Chance Successful! Everyone returns to full HP! Party HP = 20.
Camille uses Special Attack: Sacred Sabres! Chance Roll = 7. Chance Successful! Does 100 DMG to Thorgran'ganos! Overkill!




​

This was it. They had to kill Thorgran, before he slaughtered them all. Constantine made sure that wouldn't happen near immediately. As Thorgran pulled Constantine in close, intending to take another bite out of him with one of his many mouths, Constantine exposed his face to the Icon. Locking eyes with it, a searing pain pulsed through Thorgran's skull. Then, it spread to his body. He cried out in pain, dropping the wraith along with all the others. Sebastian managed to get his shotgun blast off just in time, the buckshot peppering the Icon's fat form as he fell from his grip. Chunks of flesh and tentacles were blown off by the shot, blood spurting into the air from the open wounds.

Rajko, preparing himself to use his screech to stun Thorgran, was soon smacked with a tentacle as Thorgran flailed about in agony from Constantine's Penance Stare. For every sin the Icon had committed in its long, miserable life, it would suffer ten fold. This gave Xiaòzhou, Aleister, and Camille the chance to prepare themselves for their own acts. After Xiaòzhou mended Azathor's wounds, he unleashed an enhanced form of his qi attacks on Thorgran, pummeling the Icon until it seemed as though the life had left the Icon entirely. However, they weren't finished.

Aleister's whispers to the goddess he followed seemed to have been heard. A golden aura seemed to flow forth from everyone in the room, originating from their chests until it flowed out to their extremities. Their wounds and injuries healed quickly. Bruises vanished. Their minds cleared. Undite had healed them, it seemed. Then, Aleister heard a voice deep inside his mind. "I know, mon chéri... Right now, focus that hate. Rid the world of these vile creatures. Please... do it for me, for Gyasis, and the world. I'll do all I can to aid you from afar. All you need to do is pray to me, and I will answer."

As Thorgran wavered, his body wiggling as his tentacles seemed to begin to list towards the floor, Camille made her own move. Her swords seemed to glow in the darkness of the cave, burning a bright, hot yellow. As if they were channeling the blessings that Rebecca had bestowed upon them into something more powerful. She focused, gripping her weapons tight, before charging Thorgran for one final attack to finish him off.

In a blur of lightning quick slashes, covering most of his body, she shredded the Icon into pieces. He never stood a chance. Blood spattered across the ground with each swing and cut, as well as when chunks of his body rolled off of his form. Soon, all that was left of him was a simple pile of fatty chunks and blood. Thorgran had been slain, by both Xiaòzhou as well as Camille.

It was finally over.

"...That's four Icons down." muttered Rebecca, walking over to the pile of meat that formerly made up Thorgran. She then glanced to Camille and Jakob. "...The gauntlets, please." she said, holding out her hands after putting her weapon and shield away.

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou fell to the ground as the strain of the Ziránquan hit him once more, with the only comfort being that his attack had done its job. But just as Camille made her way to deal the finishing blow, he felt as divine light healed not just him, but all of them. He would have to thank Aleister once the time was right, as the strain on his body vanished in an instance.

The hermit sat down and watched the state of the field - doubtless victory, as Rebecca made her way to Thorgran. The oni began doing a few stretches, as everyone collected themselves.

 

[joshuadim]

When Azathor was reconstituted back to consciousness thanks to both Aleister and Xiaòzhou's efforts, he managed to catch the very tail end of the fight; much to his satisfaction he witnessed Thorgrans demise, though felt an innate sense of disappointment that he could not participate more in the fight. Twice he had been practically throttled and ground into the stone below, which ultimately he chalked up to his carelessness as he spit out some residual blood while sitting on the ground nearby.

Two more icons were dead, which was bound to be a frustration to his father's plans. And not only that, but they had secured yet another godly artifact. A resounding victory by all measures, but their work was yet to be over. "Good riddance to both of them." The demon prince managed to get out following a sore groan, and nodded in acknowledgement of the Oni's healing before turning his attention to Aleister.

"Thanks." he simply stated with an affirming smile.

 

[K0mori]

After breaking away from Thorgran's monstrous clutches, Sebastian scrambled and crawled away in search of his harpoon gun. However, he wouldn't actually need it, as a barrage of finishing attacks and a burst of divine light from within each person had signaled the fight's conclusion.

Sebastian was still alive, somehow, and fully healed, yet he still remained face down on the ground, resting there for a moment with his forehead pressed into the back of his hands. It was some time before he finally lifted himself up again, checking his surroundings and making sure that he understood the outcome of the situation.

Once it had finally sunk in that everyone who had survived the initial onslaught in the fortress above had also survived the confrontation below, he breathed a ragged sigh of relief and once again crouched to the ground, clutching his hands tightly together as if trying to belt himself together with his own arms to avoid coming unglued.

 

[Breadman]

He fell on the ground clutching his head. His head bounced off the cold stone floor, so it had to hurt. It didn't. Any pain that might have come from the fall was barely felt. The holy healing did little to alleviate it. A migraine that made him want to scream started to form and gradually get worse as he climbed back on his knees. Was this it? Was this what broke Royland? Staring straight into the eyes of one of the worst entities the Abyss has created and absorbing part of its essence so he could strike back at it. The energy didn't leave his body and now felt like it was bouncing around in there. With his hands, he pulled on the skin of his face that was rolled up to reveal his skull. A greusome trick he had learned during his time in the Abyss, but one that worked to fighten and terrify his targets. Fit him neatly like a glove.

"I think I'm..." He started to say as he slowly rose up to his feet "...fine." He felt something move in him. A sudden movement that forced itself up his throat and collagulated in his mouth. The wraith felt it trying to escape as he moved over to what remained of the Icon of Gluttony to let it out. He knew he couldn't stop the torrent, but he was damn sure going to direct it to the only place he could. His hand was over his mouth, fighting to keep it in until he was in a good spot and he let it out.

A tide of black viscious liquid poured out of him, forcing the wraith to bend over. He felt the acidic taste course through and leave behind the foul feeling in his mouth. A taste of rotten eggs, spoiled fruit and decomposing meat. The stench wasn't any better. The aforementioned combination would linger on his tongue and make its way up to his nostrils, but be enhanced by a sulfuric tinge to it. The bulk of the vomit left his throat, but there was still more of it. He started to hack and cough up wet particles of black goo that had remained in his throat or stick themselves to his teeth. He resisted the urge to just shove a finger and pick them out. He would retain some dignity. He spat out the last remnants of the foul concoction from his body and looked at the diced remains of the Icon. A bloated corpse cut to pieces and oozing blood, puss and stomach acids - now covered in black tar vomit and decade old food remnants. One last insult.

Despite the horrid experience, it left him elated. Like his body had rejected what it had absorbed from the fight. The migraine was gone, replaced with clarity as he could think in ways he couldn't in a long time. Those names he screamed at Keggoth now had faces attacked to them. Voices he could identefy them by. The veil he felt earlier had started to lift. Something was different with him now. He'd have to figure it out later, they still had a job to finish.

"Its out of my system...I hope."

 

[Dmaster]

The huntress remained undeterred when Thorgran shifted into a truly abysmal form, her nerve having been steeled well enough thanks to the previous near-death experience she suffered. Terror set in again when she was grappled by those tentacles and thrown into the wall, her limbs flapping wildly as she was dragged along the surface yet she still maintained her grip on her blades.

Once finally released, she stood herself back up and stared the Icon down. "Enough," she spat, striking her sabres together as if they were striking implements for starting a fire. Another drag of her blades and there was a high-pitched whine that followed from the blades, their silvery surface starting to glow with a golden energy. The process continues for a few more sharpening drags of metal as the glow of the weapons intensifies, and with the last strike she sprints in to deliver slash after slash into Thorgran's body. It did not matter how many maws and tentacles he possessed, she would cut them all into ribbons as her sabres slashed through him as if he were air. It made the practiced swipes of her weaponry all the more quick, Camille's movements a blur of flashing holy light before the Icon was completely eradicated.

After the kill, she dropped to one knee and panted to regain her breath. "The only mercy I can grant these vile fiends is a swift death," Camille breathed, starting to stand herself up once more. Nearby, the gauntlet Rebecca requested was there, and she started to pick it up off of the ground as instructed. Slowly she steps toward the saint, handing it to her with a weary nod. "We've little time to celebrate, I'd wager. Sazak may throw an entire army at us while we still have an artifact in our possession."

 

[joshuadim]

"Either way, we won't be here long enough to find out." Azathor commented to Camillle, getting up on his feet and stretching his back. "I can only imagine how angry he'll be, knowing that yet another artifact is out of his grasp..." he then spoke, letting out a shit-eating grin as his imagination ran wild. "If only I could witness that type of eruption. Him knowing that I'm here probably makes it all the more rage inducing."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Rajko was thrown immediately back as the flailing tendril of meat and fat knocked into his chest, driving the air from his lungs. His arms and wings were raised in time, connecting with the hard stone wall of the chamber with a crash. He stammered to his feet, claws scraping striations into the flagstone floor. Then he stopped. A coiling, twisting nebula of auric wind lashed out from his chest, his head wheeled down mystified by the strange sensation overburdening his senses. The fractures closed, muscles reknit. His blood that flooded the bat-snouted maw receding. He raised his hand slowly, wicked talons flexing. Then his head shifted, a crimson-eyed witness to the slaughter Camille unleashed. He was invigorated more by the sight than by the rejuvenating divinity.

He bit back the need to roar his jubilation at the butchery of their opponent. Instead, Rajko simply glared, red eyes glinting in the half-shadows of the ruins. As the savaged remnants of Gluttony flopped to the floor like meat carved by a flesher, the inquisitor paced cautiously to the defiled remains. He stopped when the stench hit him, a putrid stink, that of half-digested waste and fetid, dried blood. His features twisted into a sneer, reeling away from the carcass.

Rajko stepped beside Camille, looking up slightly. "Good—" his voice began mangled by the form's animalistic touch, rasping in the gloom and dust. "Work." He managed, nodding slowly as he spoke.

 

[Infab]

As Camille and Jakob approached with the artifacts one at a time, Rebecca carefully took each of them. They were far too deep in the mines for an angelic summoning spell, so they would need to make their way out in order to get the artifacts transported to Eternis. "Take a moment to catch your breath, then we'll proceed back outside." she said aloud, looking to each of those standing nearby.

She glanced to Cassandra, noticing the pureblood standing over Keggoth's smashed skull. The vampire was gazing down at it, a hateful look adorning her face and her lips moving. Probably giving some final insults and curses to the Icon before they departed. Finally, Cassandra spat upon the Icon's remains, before turning to walk over to where most of the others were standing.

Meanwhile, Riberta had moved over to where Sebastian was crouched. She squatted down next to him, placing a hand on his back. "[...You did great. Rest easy.]" she said, offering him a faint smile as she spoke in their native tongue. "[You were brave. Focused. You got the job done. Others would have cut and run, or hid in a dark corner somewhere.]"

Rebecca soon turned to Constantine. "Want to help me dispose of the Icon remains? Burning them will suffice, but I'll need assistance for that." she said, as she slipped the godly gauntlets onto her belt. They were secure enough that they wouldn't fall off, and she could grab them in the event that they were needed once again.

 

[Breadman]

Want to help me dispose of the Icon remains? Burning them will suffice, but I'll need assistance for that.

"Sure." Constantine could still feel the lingering aftertaste from his experience, but maybe a good bonfire made out of the Icon would help with that. "Let's see." He reached for his lighter and flicked the top open. The small flame burned just as bright as it did before. Despite being roughed up, its about the only part of him that looked pristine. "We just need something to light on fire." He turned his head trying to find something flammable. Any broken wood he could use for kindling or tapestry or cloth to use for rags. "Got any lamp oil?"

 

[Emperor Sagan]

The demon prince managed to get out following a sore groan, and nodded in acknowledgement of the Oni's healing before turning his attention to Aleister.

"Thanks." he simply stated with an affirming smile.

Aleister nodded once to the stranger, Azathor, whom he didn't know. Few of those he found himself with did he know, but one thing was certain - anyone who could win this fight and survive were worthwhile. For the moment, the vampire merely sat where he remained, hands already fast rekindled after his healing spell. Undite's voice still lingered in his mind, the after-impression of true, proper warmth, something he hadn't felt since he died. Even the words of that goddess were like a warm blanket and hot chocolate on the coldest of winter nights, both he could remember fondly and, in many ways, lamented having lost the ability to ever taste such a thing again. Neither a hot beverage nor the bitter frost and cold meant anything to his shell.

With the fiends now dead, Aleister gradually stood. Only the intense and, truthfully speaking, horrific vomiting by Constantine seemed to give Aleister further pause. He blinked away his shock and disgust, along with a current of concern, a flicker of the old Aleister still trapped within. "...good heavens," he muttered. His gaze swept around at the others. All were battered. That foreign soldier man, a mercenary hunter perhaps, seemed at his wit's end, but that monstrous woman Riberta was there to comfort him. Camille on the other hand remained all business, and he quietly agreed with her assessment. The sooner they left, the better.

But seeing that fellow Constantine and Rebecca planning to burn the remains of the Icon, Aleister shrugged off his filthy and tattered overcoat and tossed it onto the pile of viscera and other unsavory fluids. "The rot of this place will never wash out," he said. "Wasteful, perhaps. But I care not."

 

[K0mori]

Meanwhile, Riberta had moved over to where Sebastian was crouched. She squatted down next to him, placing a hand on his back. "[...You did great. Rest easy.]" she said, offering him a faint smile as she spoke in their native tongue. "[You were brave. Focused. You got the job done. Others would have cut and run, or hid in a dark corner somewhere.]"

"[There aren't any others,]" Sebastian replied, bleakly. He then took a deep breath and began to pull himself up off the cavern floor. "[...and there's still more to do,]" he added.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Rajko's head inclined, glancing at the Saint when she spoke of purification, the crimson splotch of daemonic blood gleaming like the red of his eyes on his bat-snouted maw. His clawed digits tapped atop the cracked flagstone, making his way to his discarded coat. With an unstained talon, the inquisitor sliced off a piece of the dirtied garb. As he was wiping the freshly-spilt life from his limbs and jaw, the torrent of adrenaline that flooded his system had abandoned him; fatigue overtook him, his breathing becoming laboured. He tossed the rag onto the mound of gore and cloth, the stink still stinging his nostrils. His elongated ears twitched when the vampire spoke, issuing his displeasure at the fetor yoked upon him.

"It is—" he began, words scraping through his throat like a blade across stone. "Horrid." He agreed, his expression, bestial as it was, darkening. Though Rajko tried, he could not swab the entirety of the infernal fiend's blood from his neck.

 

[Infab]

"[There aren't any others,]" Sebastian replied, bleakly. He then took a deep breath and began to pull himself up off the cavern floor. "[...and there's still more to do,]" he added.

"[Indeed... two or three more Icons, and then Sazak and his sister. A tough... but clearly winnable battle.]" said Riberta, standing up herself. "[Remember... You're not alone in this. You never will be.]"

Riberta looked down to Sebastian after a moment, then gave him a grin. "[You'll be meeting my niece soon enough. I wonder how you two will get along?]"

"Got any lamp oil?"

"A bit. Enough to start the fires." responded Rebecca, as she began to dig through the small pack on her hip. She soon drew out a small clear bottle of lamp oil, which was around two-thirds full.

Soon enough, Cassandra's voice cut in as she approached. "Need me for anything?" she asked, glancing to Rebecca. Seemed she wanted to be useful, rather than just wait around till they left.

Rebecca glanced to her, and soon nodded. "Yes. There's some old crates and shelves in a store room we passed through after splitting up earlier. Could you head up there and bring back some of the wood? Its probably mostly rotten, but enough of it would still burn and help get rid of these bodies."

Cassandra nodded, before turning about and immediately vanishing from sight. Off to collect the wood. About ten minutes later, she returned with a rather large stack of wood in hand. All looked to be in fairly good condition, but after dropping the wood off with Rebecca and Constantine, she vanished again.

Two more trips occurred, with Cassandra finally bringing enough wood to burn the remnants of Thorgran as well as Keggoth. "The reason I burn the bodies of the Icons is simple." stated Rebecca as she tossed a few chunks of wood onto the pile of Thorgran's fleshy chunks, "...These Icons are still powerful even while dead. If another demon happened along and consumed what remained of these demons, they would grow in power themselves. It apparently happens often in the Abyss, and... it might be how their Abyssal Titans of old came to be." Rebecca then shrugged. "Who knows?"

Soon enough, the wood was in place for both bodies, and oil was scattered across the piles. Constantine took his lighter, and gave each pile a light using a shard of wood. Soon, the smell of burning flesh filled the room. Disgusting, but necessary.

"Alright, we can make our way back up." soon stated Rebecca, looking to the others scattered around the room.

The group gathered up, and soon departed from the depths of the mines. They decided to go the route that Riberta and her group had taken, moving up through the furnace area on their way back to the surface floors. None of the supernatural members of the group could sense any incoming demonic aura, or even that of remnant vampires. It seemed they were truly in the clear.

Once outside, Rebecca allowed the group to get back to the horses while she reached out to Cassiel. The angel appeared, hovering just over the snow before landing on the stone path leading up to the massive double doors that had lead into the fortress's uppermost floor.

"I see you have the gauntlets! Did everything go as planned?" the angel asked, smiling as he noticed that everyone was still in good condition. However, as he looked about, he soon noticed Aleister's presence, and smiled even wider. "I see Aleister made it safely as well... I'm glad he listened to Lady Undite and decided to join your group."

"Yes, everything went as expected. We located the gauntlets, and fought two more Icons. The Icon of Greed, Keggoth, and the Icon of Gluttony, Thorgran, are both dead." responded Rebecca with a nod, before glancing over to where Aleister was standing. Cassandra had given him her cloak, so that he could protect himself from the direct sunlight. "Yes... I'm glad he accepted as well."

She then drew the gauntlets off her hip, offering them to the angel. "Here. Thiasis' gauntlets. We had to use them to kill the Icons, so excuse the blood..." she said, glancing down to the blood that stained the knuckles. "...Thiasis poured so much of his anger into these things... How could he stand being that angry all the time?"

"Well, that's a mystery. Even to the other gods. Still, he somehow found a way." responded Cassiel, taking the gauntlets and looking them over. "...I wish he had taught his methods to Lady Velin, honestly. The world would have been spared a lot of trouble and pain."

The angel took the gauntlets under one arm, before holding a hand out to the side. A moment later, a long, curved sword manifested out of thin air. Rebecca looked at it curiously, taking note of its Redonian design. "I need to speak with Xiaòzhou. High Inquisitor Winchester, and the nation of Shioya and the Kowareta Warring States, wish for me to give him something during this ordeal."

"...Alright. Xiaòzhou!" she called out, looking over towards the rest of the group. Xiaòzhou's perked up, the monk glancing over before moving towards them as she waved for them.

As the Oni monk arrived, Cassiel guided the sword over to him. "Xiaòzhou, High Inquisitor Winchester, and the leaders of Shioya as well as the rest of the Kowareta Warring States wish for me to give you this." he said, as the sword landed in Xiaòzhou's waiting hands. "This is the ōdachi known as the Hangyaku-no-Tsurugi. It is a national treasure of Shioya and the Kowareta region, and was the sword Winchester used to cut down the rogue angel... my former sister... Ezgoth the Pure. This sword was forged by an oni only known as Onimaru long ago. Onimaru's true name has been lost to time, and much about him has followed along with it. Now, he's simply more myth than person. However... this sword is very real, just as its power is. This weapon was forged specifically with the intent to kill 'higher beings', as they told me... entities that would threaten the very continent of Redonia and beyond. This is a sword of rebellion against heaven and hell itself, in a way.

"The souls of those slain by the weapon are trapped within it. Shioya, the Kowareta region, and Winchester believe that this will prove useful to you in slaying the Icons of Envy and Lust... and potentially Sazak and his more vile kin." Cassiel then smiled, and gave Xiaòzhou a nod. "...I trust you will take care of it, and use it well."

Meanwhile nearby, Riberta seemed to have something to say to the rest of the group. "Right. When we get down to where my niece is, I'll hand you all over to her. She'll be with you until you find Undite's staff in northern Escaria." she stated. "My intent is to remain here in Daristein and start killing off any ranking demons. Threaten their power structure a little, so to speak."

 

[Damian0358]

Following his stretches, Xiaòzhou looked towards Azathor, nodding back towards him before watching him thank Aleister. He turned his sight towards Sebastian, who began to be comforted by Riberta, before looking over to the others as they prepared to dispose of the Icon remains. The hermit made his way over to Aleister and gave the vampire a pat on the back and a warm smile.

"Thank you," he said simply, hoping to distract from the overcoat he just disposed of.

After that, he made his way to help the others in whatever way he could, though they were already in the midst. As Rebecca brought up her reasons for burning the bodies, he began to wonder whether or not Zazriel knew anything on the matter. Before he could even ask, however, he sensed Zazriel, for the first time in a while, speak:

"[...unfortunately, this is something I myself am unaware on. Adriel had never told me whether the Titans such as Trig and herself consumed their foes,]" he heard the faux-king in his mind speak, "[though I could hardly imagine her doing so!]" he emphasized emphatically, "[I doubt the thought even passed her mind, given her natural strength. But during her reign and mine, we would have to deal with the bizarre sight of people climbing atop Trig's body as to feast on his bones. At least one such incident of uninterrupted consumption seemed to bestow them with great power. As such, I can see it being the case.]" he heard him explain, prompting a nod on his end, as he remembered his master telling him of cases of medical cannibalism in his homeland.

With business settled, the oni kept his senses open in case of ambush, though it seemed things were truly over. Soon enough, they were finally on the outside of the dwarven castle once more.

Xiaòzhou offered to scout the area from the sky as Rebecca called upon Cassiel, and as he did so, he watched him arrive as he did in his usual fashion. With his scouting complete, he landed back down, waving to the angel as he did so. He watched the group to see if no one had gotten ill after being exposed to the surface once more, before finding himself called over by Rebecca. He made his way over to Rebecca and Cassiel, witnessing the latter holding a large blade.

Xiaòzhou extended his hands out after Cassiel made it apparent the blade was for him, and introducing it to him. The hermit had heard of the Hangyaku-no-Tsurugi before, but having had few chances to visit Shioya, he had never seen it in person. It was a blade of similar legend to the Umagiri of Shouki Shrine, though unlike it this blade apparently sat in display as a tourist attraction... at least until recently. The incident involving Cassiel's former sister Ezgoth was something he had only learned of relatively recently, back when he and Cassiel met with Shi Jing, and during their explanation of affairs abroad the two of them explained to him what happened in northern Redonia. Though she had been a pretty sizeable threat, she didn't actively start causing trouble in the region until clan infighting in Shioya began escalating, with the case roping in both Shi Jing's predecessor and High Inquisitor Winchester. So for the entirety of Lower Redonia to come together and willingly part with the blade if temporarily...

The oni took in every word the angel told him, as he looked at the unsheated blade. The size was what those in Lower Redonia would refer to as an 'oodachi', though he himself was more familiar with it as a zhanmadao. As he was told about Onimaru (whom he had heard of before too, with many speculating he had been a Northern Oni) and how the sword itself hosted the trapped souls of those slain with it, he realized the additional aura he had sensed between Rebecca and Cassiel earlier was actually emanating from the blade this entire time. It felt searing, an impassioned rage against the systems that had been placed by the oni himself.

"I will do my best, thank you for this honor," Xiaòzhou bowed, having been handed a legendary blade to use, before being handed the sheath as well, as if Cassiel noticed how he held the blade itself. "I hope everything has been going well for you too, Cassiel," he responded further, as if to distract from the Icons that had just been namedropped.

 

[K0mori]

Sebastian remained silent during the long walk up and out of the mines, retrieving his jacket along the way. He paused as he held it up from the stone where he left it to dry, his eyes lingering on the holes where it had been pierced during the onslaught. He did his best to accept what Riberta had told him, and even contemplated why she had mentioned her niece to him, but whatever thoughts he tried to form became lost in the dark fog that had settled over him since his brush with a vampiric infection earlier in the day. He even continued to rub at the base of his finger idly, and when the group reached the surface, he lingered and avoided stepping into the sunlight for as long as he could without drawing attention to himself.

Finally, he stepped out, breathed a heavy sigh of relief and exhaustion, and then followed the rest of the group back to their horses.

 

[Breadman]

Constantine lit the wood as it was handed to him by Cassandra. Burn the corpses so nothing eats them and gains their strength. Was that how it worked this entire time? A strings of demonic cannibalism to get on top. 'Fat boy here definitely ate his fair share' the thought crossed his mind. Visible disgust forming on his face as he threw a piece of wood on the remains. It made sense really. What were they doing as wraiths again? Hunting and dismembering specific targets and feasting on the energy that the shades create when they get their revenge. That had to count too. What did Lozon do to them?

As the corpses burned he wondered-could he take a bite? Would that work? The meat probably tastes rancid, but what if it still holds something? No, best to leave it. If he added cannibalism to his long list of sins he might as well forget about any chances of redemption. What would the reward be exactly? A crumb of power? Not worth it. He turned around and followed the rest back on the long journey to the surface. At least there were no more demons or vampires for now. As soon as they neared the fresh air, he could sense the conflicting energy awaiting them-an angel. Of course they would have to go somewhere else now. No time to rest for any of them. He glanced to Sebastian as the token regular human that has been on this journey from the start still among them. How is he still keeping up?

"Trash a few greed demons for me, will you?" Constantine remarked towards Riberta. A moment later he began to summon his own steed. Like some of the other features that have been his constant companion as a wraith, the horse emerged different. Before, parts of its flesh were missing, exposing the bone underneath and whatever flesh still clung to it, was sickly or rotting. The horse had its skull exposed, looking like it had been hit several times with a blacksmith's hammer. The beast now looked 'healthy'. The chasms in the flesh now healed, the exposed bone on its head lacked the cracks and broken parts. Even the faint rancid smell had gone away. "Who took care of you while I was down there?"

 

[Infab]

"I hope everything has been going well for you too, Cassiel,"

The angel sighed softly. "Things have been going... about the same, if not worse." was the eventual response the angel gave. "It seems that the war is spreading like wildfire through our sister continent, as well as any populated islands under the control of the great nations of the world. The war is escalating from a continental war to a world war quite quickly."

"Masami, High Inquisitor Winchester's wife, is currently assisting in maintaining peace in Shioya and the Kowareta Warring States region, while those of the Shouki Shrine are focusing their efforts on maintaining peace in the other regions of the upper half of Redonia. I've heard that unrest such as what is occurring there is quite similar to the days following the fall of Ibaraki. I've also received word that a certain ally of yours from the Beaumont Mission... the kitsune warlord Inari... has resurfaced. After some digging, I've discovered she survived her ordeal in the Abyss, and slew her shadow. She is attempting to venture to Shioya to retrieve her children, who Winchester managed to locate and rescue a month ago."

He then motioned upwards. "Heaven itself is actually working on something, finally. Despite the gods and your mission to retrieve the artifacts to stop Sazak, and your slaying of several of the Icons, the Archangels are preparing a backup plan. Just in case, as one of them put it. Raziel's the smartest one, and the most careful. Knowing how the other Archangels are, however, like some of my brothers... their backup plan may be almost as devastating as Taranoch's invasion and Sazak's war. Cleansing Fire, of the Heavenly variety. Burn away the Abyssal, the Corrupt, and so on. Then, restore the Mortal Realm to an orderly state... Obviously, let's make sure their plan isn't needed."

Rebecca looked horrified. "THAT'S Heaven's plan!? To burn everything away?!" she spat, making sure it wasn't loud enough for the others to catch on to the conversation. "...What has Heaven become?"

"...A far different place than what you remember, Rebecca... And one that needs changing, once this is over." responded Cassiel. "...I was just as disgusted by the mere concept of it, when I heard about it from some of my comrades."

"Yeah, if that's the best plan they've got, then Heaven needs a thorough rework. That, or some of those Archangels need to retire." stated Rebecca, soon turning about. She paused for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder to Cassiel. "...You'd make a good archangel, Cass. You're always around, and actually care about mortals. You want to do what's right." she said softly. Then, she departed for her horse nearby.

"Trash a few greed demons for me, will you?"

"Oh, believe me. I will. As many as I can find." responded Riberta, chuckling. "First things first, though. Let's get going. We've got a long way to go before we reach my niece. She's down towards the Escarian border, in the Allenrode province's Grey Forest area. Dense woodland, trees are perpetually grey from heavy magic use a long time ago, in that particular area."

"Magic turned the trees grey?" asked Cassandra, cocking an eyebrow as she climbed onto her horse.

"Yeah. A lot of magic. Mages used to pass through there to study them. They grow fine, like any other forest would. They're just... sort of colorless." stated Riberta. "The forest stretches over the border, before returning to a more normal green color close to the village of Diluçon. Occupied territory, of course. Daristein and Tsavania control the area. Once you're over the border, my niece will locate and bring in another friend of ours who knows the area and what you'll be searching for. An Atracan archeologist by the name of Remington... No relation to the gun manufacturer, as he likes to tell us. Very... Very good with a rifle, from what I've heard. Particularly those strange ones with the... er, 'telescopic sight' on top."

Riberta took her time to pronounce 'telescopic', which was a little funny to some of the group. "Ah, so he's a sniper." remarked Cassandra, "Men and women talented in picking off single targets at extreme ranges using modified rifles. Several modern nations are starting to develop specialized training courses centered around that sort of marksmanship. You can strike terror into an army, simply by placing a single bullet into the skull of a man or woman from a good distance away."

"He's been defending archeological sites in northeastern Escaria from both demons and invading soldiers since the war broke out. We fetch him ammo from time to time, which is how he and my niece became friends." added Riberta. "He's a good man... He's just really defensive when it comes to his passion. That being history and sites of historical importance."

"Makes me think of a dime store novel hero. Some adventurer, exploring long forgotten ruins on the edges of civilization." muttered Cassandra afterwards.

Soon enough, everyone was mounted up and ready to go. "Alright, let's get to it." said Rebecca aloud, before looking over to where Cassiel was still hovering. "Any place in particular you want to meet us again, for resupply?"

"Stühmold, just outside the Grey Forest. There's a small pond on the eastern side of the village, with a dock. I'll meet you all on the bank of that pond, and I'll let Riberta's niece know where you'll be." responded the angel.

"Excellent. See you then." said Rebecca. Soon enough, the group watched as Cassiel vanished, giving them a wave as he disappeared from view.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

It had taken longer for Rajko to abandon his inhuman coil, body rigid with a tension molten in his limbs, his very fingertips. When he assumed his form again, the inquisitor assisted their efforts in disposing the rotting carcasses of the wretched fiends. Even as a man, the stink of their burning flesh ignited his nostrils, the metallic bitterness of Keggoth's accursed blood lingered long after Rajko had washed out the stain from his maw, it felt as though it had seeped into his very throat. He dismissed such frivolous concerns, fears undue, born from the depths of his wariness. His fatigue stark in his tired, drawn expression. The swaying illumination of the ruins faded his complexion further, eyes gleaming lifelessly and scarred skin paler for it.

Soon, the icy wind bit deep into Rajko's flesh, snatching at tattered cloak, stealing through the holes of blade or claw. Despite the intrusion, he welcomed the sensation — quelling the burning ache of his muscles. Wading through the snow slowly, seeing his steed before him. He prepared for their departure, lending his ear to the exchange between the Saint and the agent of Heaven. When he heard of the sword's storied legend, Rajko stopped suddenly. The inquisitor spun, thick boots thumping in the dense, soft snow. Though he did not see it drawn, it exhumed a potency in the air itself, roiling with a subtle, almost-imperceptible energy. He wondered if his senses were caught in a deception, conjured by his exhausted mind, or if the feeling was truly there. Still, he admired the skill that went into its forging, and the purpose that came with its duty.

Just as Rajko was about to return to his preparations, he overheard something between Cassiel and Rebecca. The howl of the snow-slashed wind dulled their conversation to the barest whisper, even to his enhanced senses he so enjoyed, however, the inquisitor's gaze lingered on the pair for a moment longer before he turned away at last. Though he couldn't glean the truth of it, such furtiveness oft came with the burden of dread, of terror, of outrage. For the sake of their sworn task, he wouldn't prod Rebecca for intimations or knowledge, unless it was vitally necessary.

Mounting his steed, Rajko gave silent relief that they were departing from this forsaken place.

When he heard of the Grey Forest, his curiosity had been intrigued slightly. "Peculiar." Rajko added, twisting Leofwine's reigns. "Is it the trees themselves that turned grey or the waste-magic devouring the light on them that makes them hueless." He muttered his thoughts, before trooping after his allies.

 

[Breadman]

"Gray Forest it is then." Constantine said as he got up on his horse and followed after the other riders. He managed to catch what Ranjo said " Funny thing is there was shade or two under my care passed through it where they met their end. This was...I'd say 20 years your time." The wraith's right eye looked upwards as he tried to do the calculations in his mind. "They were students trying to study the trees. One rambled and raved about being on the brink of discovery as to why the trees were so gray. Bandits found them first and mistook the poor souls for rich nobles because of a few baubles." He turned his head to the inquisitor "One of the angriest shades I've ever escorted across the Abyss." He added with a nostalgic tone to his voice. Things seemed more simple even back then. "Blighters didn't escape the hangman's noose, so the shades got their way in the end."

 

[Damian0358]

Xiaòzhou listened as Cassiel told him and Rebecca about affairs elsewhere. The oni cold only solemnly nod as he was told what was going on in Redonia, albeit tilting his head in surprise as Inari's survival was revealed. He never expected to hear of her again. But that surprise shifted into shock as he heard what Heaven planned, with Rebecca verbalizing his shared feelings.

"A two-front war... a three-way massacre..." Xiaòzhou could only mutter, expressing how the mortal realm would see such a development.

As Cassiel explained how he felt and Rebecca shared his sentiments, the angel and the oni were left by themselves. He tried to give him a tender smile.

"We'll ensure that such a plan won't be executed..." the hermit tried to reassure him, before motioning to give the angel a hug, which Cassiel reciprocated. "We'll get through this."

With one last wave-off, Xiaòzhou rejoined the others, as the burden of knowledge weighed heavy on him.

 

[Dmaster]

With the corpses of the Icons becoming a pyre, Camille was glad to leave this place behind after the ordeal the group endured in its confines. Though she remained on guard, she could feel her body growing tired and thus opted to remain silent so as to conserve her strength. Until the handoff of the artifact, the party was an even larger target for Sazak's forces than they already were. Fortunately, the handoff to Cassiel took place without incident.

The huntress lingered near the angel and Rebecca as they spoke, keeping her arms crossed and leaning against a rock pile as she followed the conversation. Those perceptive among them could see Camille's expression shift into a sneer at the mention of heaven's so-called 'backup plan.' The gods and their ilk, for all of their sanctamonious behavior and assumed righteousness would sooner set the world ablaze than risk themselves to save it. Their inaction and incompetence with these artifacts gave rise to Sazak's influence, and here she was, a mortal and mother risking everything to prevent destruction where they would prefer to wipe the slate clean. It angered her, but she bit her tongue. There was no sense shouting at Cassiel when he likely already saw things her way. At least in terms of the archangels' plan being far too drastic, Camille knew full well the angel was not heaven's harshest critic.

Between the conversing and what was next for them, the noblewoman spotted Sebastian looking hollow if not outright despondent. She did not expect him to be jubilant and celebratory after their victory, but the vacant stare he gave himself and his surroundings spoke volumes on his mental state. Camille silently hoped that he would hold himself together, not wishing to patronize him with idle chitchat or questions of how he is faring at the moment. Perhaps quiet and distance would do him good.

Slowly she mounted her steed and prepared to set out. "We are to make way to my homeland, then... Rather, what remains of it," she said aloud to no one in particular, bitterness clear in her voice.

 

[joshuadim]

For the time after their fight, Azathor had been more focused on cleaning Belias' blade than he had been on the surrounding conversations. There originally was some worry as to what effects the alchemical acids would have on the steel's quality and structure, but after some keen observation such thoughts were alleviated when he found that the sword had remained untouched despite the harsh chemicals that had been poured on it. Sheathing it back into its scabbard on his back, he turned his attention back to the conversation as Riberta spoke on what her plan was.

"My intent is to remain here in Daristein and start killing off any ranking demons. Threaten their power structure a little, so to speak."

This made the demon prince raise an eyebrow, and quickly spoke up: "If you need targets, I could send for information. I'm sure my people have learned something on that front."

 

[K0mori]

Kur
​

The attack was costly to both sides.

Lisykna, even knowing that Astraal was drawing her into an encirclement, nonetheless plunged forward to seek a direct confrontation with the Icon of Vainglory. She didn't just suspect, but rather knew that the entirety of his lands would fall if only she could bring him down, or else achieve the impossible and induce him to defect against his own father. To do this, she had to place her faith in the training of her elite warriors and mages, who could not be matched by anyone at Astraal's disposal today. But even the strongest of units was far from invincible, and so this faith could turn poisonous if she took too long to locate and confront her counterpart.

Astraal, meanwhile, was stunned by the success of his opening gambit, finding Lisykna to be either reckless and gullible, or else so focused on skinning and tanning him alive that she was willing to let her entire army burn in the process. He was so stunned, in fact, that he failed to consider that superior tactics alone can't win a battle if one's own soldiers are totally inferior, and in fact, he was slowly losing control. One only needed to measure the casualties to see it - even when accounting for the relative value of each unit lost, which was heavily skewed in favor of his own side.

And so, as the two foes continued to plunge deeper into their commitments, the epicenter of the battle began to shift closer toward Sazak's former palace at the same time the sky began to darken. Lisykna knew that allowing the battle to continue in the dark would slow her advance to a standstill, wherein she would lose the only advantage she had - the raw speed and brutality of her soldiers. She made the fateful decision at that moment to plunge headlong into the palace, knowing that isolating herself was the best chance of drawing out Astraal for the confrontation she desperately needed.

---
​

As her boots made contact with the paved walkway through the courtyard, Lisykna was immediately taken by how little Kellea's efforts to redecorate the grounds could disguise the underlying shape of the prison in which she spent decades languishing. For a moment, all was silent, and for the first time, she surveyed all that surrounded her as a demon would. Strangely, it didn't bother her anymore. It was stately and ostentatious, yes - but somehow it also helped to alleviate the crushing stress and claustrophobia of the city outside its grounds. It was almost tranquil, by comparison, and from Sazak's point of view it must have offered a vision of rule outside of the Abyss - an ambition he would chase for centuries.

Almost ridiculously, she was reminded of her chateau in Escaria, and how it isolated her from the turbulent world outside for so many years, and yet served as a tiny fiefdom within the true kingdom. She was beginning to comprehend what Neroph meant in Erebos about recognizing one's own sin, and she couldn't deny that comforting familiarity, even if she also despised it.

She ducked out of the way before she even comprehended the instinct, and barrage of magical blasts tore through the ground at her heels. Spinning about, she found him closing on her at last, and bared her fangs at the challenge. "At last..." she addressed him as he landed nearby, turning and clashing his sword against hers with a heavy, thundering blow. "...I've been looking for you, Astraal."

"I know that," he grunted in reply, annoyance dripping from every word as he smashed her blade aside and swung his own with a backhand, narrowly missing her chin as the blade whipped the air between them. "Your desire for revenge against my father will be your entire army's undoing, witch! All those demons you led here to die are just the end result of one spoilt brat of a mortal who just couldn't handle her own damnation!"

With a splash of hellfire, Lisykna leaped backwards, knocking over a statue in the courtyard with her landing, shattering it to pieces. She pointed the tip of her sword at him while standing atop the rubble, as if warning him against coming any closer. "The fact I have any words for you is proof to the contrary," she declared, bursting forward and barrel rolling through the air to avoid a wicked slash of magic which seemed to leap from the end of Astraal's blade.

The Icon matched her perfectly, diving forward behind the cutting edge of his own magical attack so that he could drive his blade upward and create a second dimension. Instead, Lisykna redirected it with her gauntlet and the two slid past each other without landing a blow. "I have more than revenge on my mind, monsieur. Shall we talk, or should I end this quickly?"

"Oh, save your speeches. I don't care about any of it!" he roared, slashing the air twice to create two new magical attacks which would cut a cross through the entire courtyard, decapitating and dismembering every remaining statue in their paths. Lisykna, meanwhile, held her hand out to him as if to beckon before snapping her fingers and disappearing. When she reappeared - above him - Astraal was forced to dive out of the way of a fiery blast raining down from the sky.

Having missed, Lisykna landed again with her blade at the ready, but held back, waiting for Astraal's next move. Likewise, he did the same, hesitating as he tried to make sense of her approach. Lisykna smirked at him. "Don't let your own lust for revenge cost you the only overture you'll ever get from us," she said before Astraal interrupted her.

"OVERTURE!?" he cried incredulously, before a realization settled into his eyes and filled him with equal parts surprise and infuriation. "...There's NOTHING you can offer me for any possible thing you could be thinking of - and there's not a lot, is there!? You must want me to join with Tariun and betray my father! BUT NOW? NOW THAT HE RULES THE ABYSS?" Lisykna's lack of reaction was all that was needed to push Astraal over the edge into a blind rage. He charged forward again, smashing his sword against hers in a series of increasingly quick strikes that put the witch on her back foot.

"Look around you...!" she grunted despite the assault, "Is this how you imagined it would be!? Icons are dying to mortals! The Abyss is in disarray! And you... you take orders... from KELLEA!" she replied, eventually finding an opening to crash through Astraal's attacks and grip him with her gauntlet, before pivoting and throwing him back into the wall of the palace. She charged in after him, throwing out waves of hellfire which swept into the luxurious halls like they were piles of dry leaves, engulfing them easily. And yet, as the fire swept through, the scorching seemed to melt away from the plaster within, as an enchantment removed the signs of the brutal struggle mere moments after it happened.

Astraal responded in kind, using his sword like a paintbrush to splash the canvas ahead with bursts of power that cratered the walls, floors, and ceilings. "All of this is your fault - you and those TRAITORS! You'll all get what's coming to you!" he spat, finding an opening in the midst of Lisykna's evasions to crack a heavy punch across her jaw that sent her smashing through the wall. She turned just in time to catch his next attack with her sword as she fell against the piano where Kellea once played, before rolling out of the way again to plant her feet and respond in kind. Astraal paused, mid-step, to declare his hatred outright: "...But if it's all the same in the end," he conceded, "if you're all going to be put to the sword, it might as well be my sword, to repay you for what you did to Ergran!"

"So be it," she replied, fiercely. "If you really can't see beyond your damned nose, how can anyone help you!? But at least I'll tell Azathor that I tried...!" she lamented, half-sarcastically, and for one brief moment, Astraal hesitated. Lisykna didn't. She gripped the collar of his armor with her gauntlets and slammed him hard into the nearby bookshelves, breaking down another wall and sending him tumbling back into the hall.

He frantically found his footing, fanatically throwing himself at her as she seemed to accelerate faster than before, faster than he knew himself to be capable of. A number of sword strikes hit him in his arms and chest, and his blood began to run, but he fought like a cornered animal. The moment he thought he had another opportunity to turn the tables, she vanished again with the snap of her finger and reappeared from within the library. A moment later, she slashed him with her sword and then tackled him, sending him careening through the windows of the opposite wall in a hail of broken glass and demon blood.

He hit the ground, swinging, enraged, his sword bashing off the deflecting angles of Lisykna's defenses as she picked him apart. Unable to retake the offensive, he finally backed away, screaming at her in frustration. "...Azathor put you up to this, then!? He left us, betrayed us, threw in his lot with his brother's murderer, and now he wants me too - not just to die, but to die an ignoble death! A death befitting scum like you!"

"And your other brothers and sisters?" Lisykna demanded, pursuing him again, but holding back just enough to ensure that she wouldn't fully overpower him. He defended himself, desperately, shocked that his opponent would know or care about the others. He didn't have the ability to respond - a single lapse in concentration would mean his evisceration - and so Lisykna continued: "Sazak doesn't need you, and he doesn't care for you, nor any other soul in any of the three realms! What good is there in serving power for power's sake, hm!? You don't do it for love, you do it out of fear - and you call Azathor scum!?"

At that moment, one of Astraal's lieutenants landed in the courtyard and charged Lisykna. Forced to take her eyes off the Icon, she merely swiped her sword and split the archdemon in half with a strike that rippled through the air behind him like a rope of magma, eventually tearing a large gash in the side of the palace. Astraal watched in horror and knew he couldn't handle this fight any longer, and in a final, desperate act, he tossed his sword to the ground and knelt.

Lisykna turned, amazed in the moment that she might've finally made her point. She hesitated much longer than she meant to - she hadn't planned so far ahead as to know exactly what to say to the Icon should he actually take the offer. But as she moved to guide him back to his feet, he suddenly brought forth a magical attack which blinded her, leaving her wheeling backwards in shock and genuine fury. Astraal grabbed his sword off the ground and charged her with a war cry, meaning to run her through, but with a snap of her fingers, she vanished again. He looked upwards, prepared to see her in the darkening sky above, but saw nothing.

"I wish I could've saved him and Sal'gel... and Belias... yet I've always been too weak." he then spoke, tears welling up in his eyes. "Everything I've ever done has always led to me failing in protecting the ones I love and them taken from me. My own kin, despised and discarded like trash by my father because they weren't perfect. Perfect to be used as tools like Astraal is."

"Astraal is my only family left. I fear to fail yet again... to be truly alone in this existence. I can't lose him too..."

The ghostly illusion of Azathor stood in the courtyard, as emotionally vulnerable as he had been when he spoke those words to Lisykna. Astraal was frozen in place at the display until it faded, fearing that the witch would use it as yet another opening to attack him and end his life, especially since he had just spurned her earnest attempt to spare him. But, as the seconds passed, he realized that she wasn't returning. She was flying back to her own forces, gathering them for the retreat before nightfall, and healing her sight...

And so he continued to stand there, in the midst of a narrow victory that could hardly be counted as such, thinking very deeply about his convictions...