Fantasy That Time the Demon Lord Killed our Party Leader: Ic

[Nessi]

Chapter 01: Fading Light

Arlux, the divine hero who weld the power of Aurora, has fallen, and with her death, the defeat of the alliance has followed. The heroes, once seen as a sign of hope, have been imprisoned, stripped of their divine weapons, and left to rot in a prison. After suffering huge losses, the Alliance has began to crumble, and Yamato, Zheng Fa, and Jórvík have been left to fend for themselves while the worlds tries to figure out how to continue without the heroes.

But one person hasn't given up on the heroes, and that would be the one regarded as "The last hero", Guō Yī Nuò. The old moon elf was the only hero to evade being captured by Tiryan's men, and tried to convince the alliance to preform a rescue heroes. When her words did nothing, Yī Nuò took matters into her own hands, and devised a plan so reckless, it may work...

 

[Nessi]

Guō Yī Nuò

“Are you sure this…plan…if you can even call it that…are you sure that it will work?” A masked individual said.
“Options are limited…the Alliance…they’re in shambles. They’ve all pulled back to their respective countries….I wouldn’t reach out for help unless I had to, Nomad.” Yī Nuò sighed.
“Don’t mention it, old friend. You saved my life, so I’ll save your group of heroes.” Nomad responded.
“Speaking of which, how long until we reach that damn prison, I’m too damn old to be this high, and this cold.” Yī Nuò complained.
Nomad chuckled, “My summon is moving as fast as possible, you told me you wanted to get there quietly, this is how we get there quietly.”
The pair were riding on what looked to be a flying manta ray, flying above the snowy landscape.
“Besides, I can see the prison up ahead, so it would be wise to get ready.” Nomad remarked, reaching into their cloak to pull out a spirit gem.
Yī Nuò sighed, before stretching her arms, and cracking her neck.
“Remember, I’ll find the kids, you just get us in and keep those guards off me, alright?” Yī Nuò reminded.
“Yeah, yeah. 30 seconds to our destination, get ready!” Nomad yelled.


“Oi, you got any idea why Tiryan is keepin’ these heroes alive?”
“Nah, not really. If I was in his position, I’d say just kill ‘em all! Don’t give them a chance to recover!”
“Yeah, and with them out of the way, we don’t gotta stand here in the freezing cold!”
“Yeah…hey, you see that thing in the sky…is it get-“
Before that guard could even finish his sentence, what would appear to be a meteorite would impact they’re location, killing them instantly. Nomad and Yī Nuò descended from the flying ray, and used the hole created by the meteor in order to infiltrate the prison.

“Hey, everyone grab your weapons, sound the alarm, we-” before the guard could finish his sentence, his throat would be cut out, causing him to fall to the ground clutching his neck.
Yī Nuò dashed past the guard she attacked, rushing to find her fellow heroes. “If you don’t want to die, stay the hell out of my way!” the moon elf roared. With every empty cell she passed, Yī Nuò's concern grew more and more apparent.

Eventually, Yī Nuò would stop, resting against a wall to catch her breath.
“Is everything going well?” Nomad said, approaching Yī Nuò from behind.
“I can’t find them! I feel like I’ve searched every cell I could find, but it’s like they’ve all been abandoned.” Yī Nuò said, kicking the wall out of frustration.
Nomad placed a gloved hand on Yī Nuò’s shoulder, and threw down a spirit gem, summoning a lizard-like creature.
“Use this summon of mine. It should be able to sniff out the divine energy that lingers within them.” Nomad explained.

The footsteps of countless soldiers made Nomad wipe around.
“ Get moving, Yī Nuò! We’ve gotta start moving before reinforcements arrive!” Nomad shouted.
Yī Nuò nodded, and followed the lizard's lead.
“Come on, they’ve gotta be close now.” Yī Nuò muttered. And as if on cue, the lizard would abruptly stop in front of a cell, jumping and flipping in delight.
Yī Nuò approached the cell, and felt a wave of emotions crash into her at the sight of the heroes, her grandchildren, and her family.

“Oh…thank goodness. I couldn’t find you, I thought I was too late…” Yī Nuò said, tears welling in her eyes. The old elf quickly wiped her tears, and slashed the lock off of the cell door. “We’ll have plenty of time to cry later. Make sure everyone is accounted for, if we’re missing anyone, we’ll grab them after we get your connection to your respective deities.” Yī Nuò ordered.

 

[Nessi]

Eleanor

“Everyone! Keep fightin’! Just hold on a bit longer, and we’ll all be home!” Eleanor roared, blood soaking her hair. Her body ached, but the pain didn’t bother her, it didn’t stop her from cutting down beast and man alike.
“Don’t give up! Arlux is fighting her hardest against that…monster! We have to keep going for just a little longer!” Eleanor repeated.
Then Eleanor saw it, a brilliant light in the distance. It was so bright that both sides stopped fighting to witness the clash between Arlux and Tiryan.
Then everything would go silent, and nobody dared move an inch… not until Tiryan emerged from the smoke, dragging Arlux’s body along with him.
Eleanor felt something within her break, and shattered into a million pieces.
“It’s over…..we’re doomed.” Eleanor muttered.

And then, Eleanor woke up, her face resting on the cold, stone floor of the cell she was in. She didn’t know who else was there with her, nor was she aware of the time she had spent in the cell. She was stripped of her weapon, and her connection with Paimon was severed. It had been so long since she had heard the voice of her god in her head.

But despite being in her position, Eleanor just didn’t care. She felt nothing, no matter how hard she tried to move, her body wouldn’t. Her will was gone, Arlux was gone, their leader was gone, the allied forces were in shambles, and the “heroes” were all stuck in cells that drained them of their mana. There was nothing Eleanor could do, nothing anyone could do.
Tiryan had won, the world was doomed, and Eleanor was sure that she’d spend the rest of her days locked away in this prison.
Then she felt the floor below her shake, and everyone around her seemed to start stirring about, but of course she didn't.
Rescue or not, Eleanor still couldn’t bring herself to move an inch.

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Huang San

The world shakes. Huang San fights. Arlux and Tiryan clash, and the air is filled with the cries of war and death. And then there is a lull, and Huang San turns to see Arlux's corpse, borne by Tiryan. Howling and laughing. Arlux, his friend, his sister in all but blood, was dead. Killed by the man who had killed even more of his family, who had killed everyone he knew. Other heroes broke down. Other heroes wept. Other heroes tried to flee.

Huang San, wordlessly, raises his staff to fight on. But not for long at all.

The next thing he knows is the cold stone of a cell. He couldn't feel his mana, he couldn't hear Wukong's voice. He didn't need to. Huang sits, and examines his cell, and he waits. Either he would die here, or he would escape. And if the chance came to escape, if that sliver of possibility ever emerged, it would not find him wanting. He would be ready for it. Hours become days become weeks. His hair grows long and matted, a heavy beard on his face forming. And still, Huang San waits in silence, patient like the earth.

The earth shakes once again, and before long, the lock is off of his door and he's looking up at Yi Nuo. He locks eyes with 'Grandma', and there's not quite a smile in his eyes. His expression doesn't change, seemingly having become locked into stone. But there's a small sense of relief... and the sense that a beast has been unleashed. Because in Huang San's eyes is something that hasn't been seen in his eyes before, in all the time that he fought alongside the party. Something that only Arlux saw, when she first found a man shambling his way north.

In his eyes was the hunger of a wolf that desired the flesh and bones of one man. And it would not stop until it had it.

 

[Beann]

Suzuki Kaida

The roar of battle was a constant, piercing hum through her ears. It was a mixture of unpleasant sounds, drowned out by waves of blood and metal. Gripping the hilt of her katana, Kaida's eyes darted wildly across the battlefield, her chest rising and falling with every heave. Her pristine white tails were now sullied with the blood of her enemies — and allies. She wasn't certain how much longer she could keep pushing, her body aching with each swing of her blade to deflect an enemy's. Through the cacophony of cries and screams, Eleanor's voice pierced through, reaching the ears of the kitsune.

Eleanor's words sparked a flame deep within her, causing her to stand a little taller for the moment. Rather than continue with a flurry of cuts, Kaida sheathed her blade. Her tails fanned out in an aggressive display as the bond between mortal and god tightened. Within seconds, she transformed into a large fox. She barreled through beasts and men, biting and stomping them until a bright light pulled her attention away from the heat of battle. Was the bloodshed finally over?

Once the dust settled and the victor emerged, Kaida bared her fangs in disbelief. Arlux…lost? Even with her own eyes, she could not believe it. She growled in anger as Tiryan's forces, now bolstered with his victory over the light, surrounded the giant fox. Taking slow steps back, she looked around for the rest of her allies but it would seem the hope they carried died along with their precious leader.

And now, Kaida found herself sulking away in a prison cell with the rest of her friends. The life in her bright red eyes was lost as soon as the last of her nine tails disappeared months ago. This cell drained the most important resource to her: mana. Without it, she was useless. No one. Not only that, Tiryan's forces confiscated their divine weapons, severing the tie between her and Inari Okami. Without her goddess, she felt lost. Even in a cell with the heroes she had become well acquainted with, she felt all alone.

Resting her head on Tiberius' thigh, she laid on the cold floor, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. She counted the amount of bricks it took to fill the ceiling above them about fourteen dozen times, concluding with the same number every time. Today was miserable, as was yesterday and the day before that. Matter of fact, she wasn't certain how long they've been kept here exactly, or why. She expected all of them to be executed after their defeat — the first week here she would wait anxiously, praying that the guards didn't approach to push them towards death. Instead, they only showed their faces to toss everyone bits and scraps of barely edible food.

Her ears twitched slightly as she heard what sounded like a muffled explosion far off in the distance. Shortly after, the ground underneath her reverberated, causing her to sit up slowly. Curious. Rising to her feet, she approached the bars of the cell, listening to the growing commotion down the corridors. "Someone is approaching…" she whispered softly, squinting at the figure off in the distance. "Obachan?" Kaida tilted her head at the resemblance, her eyes widening as her suspicions were confirmed true. "Obachan!" She drew a deep breath, her eyes welling with tears.

Finally, a sign of hope.

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

They had failed. He had failed. Arlux was dead. The truth was cold, simple, and unchanging. No matter what they did, or said from this point on would usurp that truth; however, they still had life..if you could call this that. Others would call it an execution, death by rot. Despite being drained of mana, starved, and stuffed into a cell nearly as cold as reality, it was the mental decay that was the most taxing. For some, the disease took hold immediately then the contagion spread across the cell, some trying to fight it with half hearted smiles and songs. Others escape into a world of dreams while dissociating with reality, and not even that was afforded to the young dragon as his dreams often consisted of the Ancient Forest being burned down…and a dragon graveyard. There were no gods here, there were no heroes outside. Yes, this was death by rot. It was the only reason Aaxir could fathom why he was still breathing.

Screams, words of valor, blood…his own blood, a wall of enemies separating him from Arlux and Tiryan. The events from the final battle at this point played in his mind as flashing images. There wasn’t a day that went by where Aaxir couldn’t see Arlux’s lifeless body held by-

Aaxir shook the memories away as he leaned against the dull stones of the prison. Had it not been for his unyielding pride, his mind probably would have also wandered into the same abyss that had taken Eleanor and some of his comrades. Still, his flame was like dying embers in the grass. In the end even Aaxir would have to admit he was just a boastful dragon. He couldn’t hold a candle to Arlux, and despite fighting even after her death he was unable to reach Tiryan. Maybe-

He heard a voice, sparking those small embers left behind by his pride until he looked up to see. It was Kaida who spoke, speaking of someone approaching. To his surprise Yi Nuo appeared as if she was beamed down by the gods themselves. It took a few seconds for the light to return to his eyes, and at first he didn’t even move and who could blame him. Their death, and the world’s ruin seemed all but certain. It wouldn’t have been crazy to believe he was currently in the dreamscape, but…“Get up…,” Aaxir told himself with a growl, only loud enough for those near him to hear. He rose to his knees, and then stood on both feet. “Get..up..” The embers were growing. If this was a dream he would see it to the end. He wasn’t particularly worried about the other heroes, nor did he need them, not anymore.

Eleanor was in his path laying there lifeless. Her spirit had been completely shattered, a far cry from the one rallying all the warriors months ago. “...You’re in my way…human.” After a momentary pause he stepped over her as a scowl formed over his face. “Eleanor” was already dead. This person before him was an imposter. “Pathetic…it’s no wonder you couldn’t save her,” he said before moving to the front of the cell. It was cruel, but he was speaking to himself just as much as he was Eleanor. It was then he stood beside Kaida and met Yi Nuo’s gaze with his own. He didn't say anything; his eyes said it all. As much as he hated the thought of being rescued, the reason he began to fight was more important than anything…even beyond his pride. The story was yet to be finished.

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Prison was b-o-r-i-n-g. So boring!

When Nel and everyone else got put in here, she didn’t think about the boringness (was that a word?) much. She thought mostly about Arlux and how she dangled in Tiryan’s hand like a gory puppet. It was really, really sad to think about. Arlux was such a ray of sunshine! Almost like Lycoris! But she’s dead now, and Nel cried lots the first few days.

And then she stopped crying, because she knew Arlux was in a better place now, where she didn’t have to do any fighting or leading or all that hard stuff. The rest of them'll take over for her!

But that meant there wasn’t much else to do except to sit and think and wait for the yucky prison food. She couldn’t talk to Shiva anymore (but it wasn’t like he usually talked to her much anyway, which kind of hurt her feelings) and most of her friends weren’t up for chatting most of the time. Some of them were still sad about Arlux, and some others were like Shiva and didn’t always enjoy speaking with her. Which she was okay with, because they were people, and people didn’t always get along! But Shiva wasn’t people, and he was her patron god! All the other gods talked to their heroes!

Anyway, prison wasn’t anything new to her, but she still didn’t like it!

Based on her wealth of experience with prisons though, she knew that they couldn’t keep her locked in for long. If the sound of that explosion was anything to go by, freedom should come right about… Now!

“Granny!” Nel squealed, leaping to her feet. As she bounced over to join Yī Nuò at the gate of the cell, she nearly tripped over Eleanor. Oh dear, was Eleanor sleeping? Maybe she didn’t see that Yī Nuò was here! Nel wished that she could give Yī Nuò a big ol’ hug, but she was probably pretty stinky right now. Instead, she turned back around to face her friends and spread her arms wide. ”Everyone, Granny’s here! We can go now!”

 

[Bloody_Death]

KAI NAKAYAMA

War has got to be the most nightmarish thing. The constant fighting, the cries of those around them, the pressure of having the weight of everything resting on you. This really wasn't for him. But it's not like he had a choice. Not that he would choose anything other than standing alongside his comrades for, what he hoped, was their final battle regardless. But for Kai, the hardest has to be the mental strain war places on someone. And the role he fills as the army's primary healer. A lesson he's learned the hard way, was that he couldn't save everyone. Not on the battlefield at least. And this wasn't because he didn't have the ability to save them but more he simply couldn't. All the mana in the world wouldn't be enough to save whole armies of people at once. Having to decide who was worth saving and who had to be left behind. Willingly leaving people die for the greater good was a feeling he hated. A responsibility he had to bare.

Kai made quick movement around the battle field. Creating quick temporary domes of safety where he could heal the wounded let them collect their bearings and move on. It was a constant cycle that felt like it would never end, that was until a bright light flooded the field. His focus shifted to the center. Watching in suspense as everyone waited for who would be walking out the smoke alive. Though his heart sank when he saw the bloodied corpse of Arlux. A dear comrade and a good friend.

His mind was blank as cheers of the enemies echoed through the field. Though he soon shook his head. This didn't mean the war was over right? Sure, Arlux was the strongest...but she wasn't the only one. The didn't have to stop fighting just because she fell...but it was clear others did not feel the same as a noticeably shift in moral seeped through their army. Plaguing everyone in almost an instant. This was what really ended the war.

At first, Kai didn't think being locked up for all eternity was the worse punishment. Surely not worse than death. But he would soon learn that it was just as bad as dying. Maybe even worse. The cell was cold and cramped and they were given literal scraps and borderline trash to eat. Kai did his best. To eat edible parts of the food he was given. He'd hate for food poisoning to be the way he goes.

It didn't take long for days to just blur together. He wasn't living he was just existing. But he tried his best to keep his sanity. It wasn't like he was alone. He socialized with his comrades. At least the ones who were willing to talk to him. When he couldn't sleep he would sing to himself to pass the time. Sing for hours till his voice went dry or someone told him to shut up. Then he'd rest for a bit and do it all over again. Sometimes he would comb through his growing hair. Style it with his only ribbon. He wouldn't let his sanity slip. He didn't want to lose his sense of self and hold onto the hope of freedom till the day he died. Which he hoped was not anytime soon.

Kai sat in the corner of the cell. leaning against one wall while resting his head against the other. It was his favorite spot in the cell! He thought it was comfortable. Plus he had his little tally wall here. Etched into the wall using the shackles on his wrist. He made a mark everytime the guards would give them food. Since he assumed that they came once a day. And now, he hummed quietly as he counted up the tallies. But that counting came to a halt when he heard unfamiliar noises down the hall. He soon got up. Making his way over to the cell door. Carefully stepping over and of his comrades that were laying on the floor. The sight of this scared him. The thought of ending up to be just a shell of what you used to be was terrifying. He shook his head. Continuing to the gate as he waited for whoever was about to come. And at the sight of a familiar face he blinked.

"Baba Yī Naò?" He questioned in disbelief. Almost not able to believe his eyes as the woman. But the moment that locked was slashed he stepped out. And it was no longer a dream. They were going to be able to leave. He gave a nod to the instructions they were given. A noticeanly light returning to some of his comrade's eyes. While some still remained quite lifeless. After getting his shackles off he rolled his wrist. It felt so strange not seeing them there anymore.

"Does anyone need assistance?" He questioned, soon peeking back into his cell and the the ones around them so he could try and assist anyone who needed help with leaving. Whether that be physically or mentally.

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

As Arlux engaged Tiryan directly, the other heroes turned to face his gathering forces. The battle raged on both within the Immortal Palace and in the city it stood in as the air grew thick with the cloying stench of blood and the screams of the dying. Fel whirled around, casting a great gout of fire to consume a pair of Tiryan's demonic soldiers. The ghastly creatures burned like dry firewood, and the odor of burning flesh filled Fel's nose briefly. The elf sneered at their flaming corpses and met another soldier with a blast of pressurized air, flinging it into several of its brethren.

Things were going splendidly. And then, all of a sudden, they weren't.

A great flash of light burst across Fel's vision, nearly blinding the mage. He faltered, staff raised mid-incantation and peered dizzily into the hazy chaos - where Tiryan and Arlux fought. A hushed silence fell over the hall as the fighting entered a brief lull.

"No!" Ayao's familiar voice cried out in Fel's ear, and he knew the worst was confirmed. Tiryan emerged from the smoke, Arlux's broken body dragged behind him like a mangled toy. Fel's face tightened as a thousand emotions flashed through him all at once: shock, horror, grief, and more before he finally settled on a seething frustration. Though many of their ranks had fallen already, Arlux was their leader - their strongest, their bravest, their best shot at finally winning this war - and now she was gone. With her, any chance of victory. Despite his and some of the other heroes' attempts at resistance, the party was soon overpowered and darkness fell over the elf's vision.

Fel woke with a low groan, stirring slowly as he came to. Blinking the spots from his sight and dragging himself into an upright position, he examined his surroundings. Fel sat in a damp, dark cell with thick manacles binding his hands together. His staff, his cloak, even his glasses had all been stripped from him. Even Ayao, a constant - albeit taciturn - presence beside him had vanished. The goddess had guided him through difficult times these past few years and despite how short a time they'd known each other, her absence left a gaping hole in his chest. They had failed. He had failed.

Time passed slowly in the darkness, starved of food and mana and cast away to rot in Tiryan's dungeons. And yet they still lived. As easy as Tiryan could have killed them, their captor seemed to refuse to, providing the failed heroes with just enough to survive but never enough to gather any strength. Fel struggled to maintain his composure in these squalid, hopeless conditions. In an attempt to cling to sanity, he defaulted to his training as a youth in the Isles: he closed his eyes and breathed.

In the darkness of his mind - an entirely different sort of darkness than the pitch-black of the cell - Fel saw the most terrible things. Their leader, her body torn in two and displayed grotesquely before them by their enemy. An empty coffin, buried in a shallow grave marked with the name of his mentor. His father's stiff, cold corpse as it burned away on a small pyre. And Fel struggled past the grief, refused to dwell on it, refused to let it take him again. He locked away all his sadness and his fear, his sorrow and his worries in an iron coffin and buried it deep within, where it could never bother him again. The dead were gone, and held no power over him. Instead, he sought out his strength. The burning flame at the center of his heart.

He found it scattered and weakened, hardly more than a few flickering embers. Still, it burned. Fel cupped the sputtering flame and let it warm him, soothe him. He relied on the fire through the coldest of the next nights, as all seemed lost. Even stripped of his staff, and drained of his mana, this fire was his - nothing could ever truly take it from him. Fel sat in deep meditation, grasping for the flames. Though for the first time in as long as he could remember, he could not gather the mana to touch it, to shape it in the way that was so natural to him, the sun elf could sense its strength wax and wane as the days passed. He used the flickering flame to measure the time passing, first days, then weeks and months. Until finally-

A loud explosion.

"Yī Nuò..." Fel's voice was hoarse from disuse, rising to his feet as the older elf appeared from the gloom, peering into their dirty cell. He stepped out from the cramped, dingy cell into the still-cramped, but slightly less dingy hallway. "How did you... No, that can wait until later. I don't suppose you've brought a spare staff or wand with you?" Fel rattled the chains still binding his hands together. "Some assistance would be greatly appreciated."

 

[Auda]

Tatag

Red wasn’t something Tatag was familiar with. Sure, there was the red of apples and strawberries back in the Ancient Forest, as well as the changing of seasons to autumn. Occasionally the sky would blush a pretty color but those were fleeting moments that were swamped by the green of the fields and trees, the blues of the sky and rivers. Although red was becoming a more prominent hue since Tatag joined the party. The flushed face and sunburnt skin of his companions as they made their way through the deserts of Pyla, long nights where red wine was sloshed and passed around after a long day and now, the crimson of blood that painted his body and weapon.

Tatag doesn’t remember how long they have been fighting. The enemies didn’t seem to end and he hoped the same could be said for his allies. He couldn’t see how they were doing for he had no time to remove his attention to the soldier or demon that occupied his vision next. It was the first thing Arlux taught him, how to focus in the heat of battle. Outside of combat however, their leader almost encouraged Tatag to explore as he wished and his mind wander.

Suddenly, the world seemed to stop as the enemies in front of the ent ceased their attack and instead, was staring at the direction where he last saw Arlux and Tiryan. That’s when Tatag knew that they had won. He immediately followed their gaze, heart filled with joy, failing to see the satisfied smirks the soldiers were wearing. Once his eyes landed on Arlux, what greeted him was not her radiance, but the bloodied mess Tiryan left. Not once did Tatag think that Arlux, their leader, was going to lose.

The ent lost count on the amount of times he's been beaten down since they started their adventure and the pain that came with it, but the sight of the lifeless Arlux was a different ache. Tatag’s limbs could break a hundred times over and it wouldn't even be close to it. Arlux made him feel bigger than he really was. The other ents back home called him a hero, but in their eyes he was still the little sapling that clung to the elder’s branches. Arlux saw him for who he was and what he could become. In a way, Arlux served as the sun that helped and watched him grow. Tatag didn’t have the time to process the rest as he was quickly knocked out and put inside a cell with his companions.

Being an ent meant that he was more attuned to nature than the other races and Faunas’ blessing only intensified it. He could feel each blade of grass be swayed by the wind like it was an extension of his body. It has always been a comforting feeling. It grounded him, showed that there’s life everywhere. Thus, the cell only highlighted its absence. For the first time in his life, he was disconnected from the world. He tried to fill up the silence with conversation but the cell seemed to take his voice away alongside his mana. Following his companions, Tatag found a spot to sit on and mourned the passing of their leader.

Some were faring their captivity better than others and unfortunately, Tatag wasn’t one of them. His roots couldn’t penetrate the floor to find soil and his leaves longed for the taste of sunlight that would never come. Maybe the worst of all was the absence of mana coursing through his veins. All that’s left was an empty husk and he was transported back to when he was but a sprout in the ancient forest. Weak and brittle. Although this time, he didn’t have the comforting presence of the tribe’s elder to shield him from harm. With nothing else to do but wait, Tatag withered away.

Time passed and still, there was no hope of escape. Tatag could barely speak, let alone stand up due to the lack of nutrients and constant drain on his mana. Unlike his companions, the stale and moldy bread they were occasionally given was no use to him. His body grew weaker as the days went by, and he already has made peace with his death. The thought frightened him first, but it was almost inevitable. His race was meant to live for centuries so the thought of dying didn’t occur to him until this moment. For what it’s worth, at least he will be the first one to pass. Arlux’s death already left him devastated. He couldn’t imagine another one of his companions going through the same thing. If he were to regret one thing, it’s that he never had the chance to visit his tribe back home to show them how much he has grown.

Death was just another adventure that Tatag will face head-on. He could faintly feel the ground shake. Footsteps and familiar voices meshed together in one garbled mess.

‘Arlux?’ he whispered, maybe she’s coming to guide him through the afterlife.

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

Interactions: Nessi Bloody_Death

When she hid the White Fiend’s body four years ago, she buried the remainder of her tears in his unmarked grave. The war would force her to lay witness to death pointing at many more lives it considered unworthy of walking among the living. However, as her allies wept at their graves, she didn’t dare join them. She didn’t deserve that solace. Never again would she be able to hear their voices call her name, and her regrets cut deeper into her very being with each body that was devoured by the earth, but she let them scar rather than disappear. She carefully engraved each name within the memories they shared, hoping that the traces they left behind would keep their stories alive. She hoped they’d witness the image of the peaceful world they desired before the coming of their third death.

Thus she continued to fight.

Her body ached, too exhausted to even muster the strength to decimate the decaying bags of flesh with her dragon magic. As the tyrant’s reinforcements continued to swell, the number of heroes dwindled until not even two dozen remained. She felt the crunch of bones and the sickening squelch of someone’s flesh beneath her feet as she clumsily stumbled backwards, but she leapt off the corpse and drove her sword into the monster before her without another moment of hesitation. Whenever they struck, she poised herself to block the attack with her sword. If they retreated, she chased their footfalls and struck down with the combined might of a dragon and a god. The blood dripping off her brow had long blurred her vision and her actions were driven more by instinct than reason, but the woman could still see that the dawn’s light had yet to fade.

She was just a fool to forget that the breath of life was something easily stolen.

“Look at her! Your precious hero…She has failed you, she has failed you all!”

While Tiryan’s gleeful boasting echoed throughout the decrepit castle grounds, Enthy continued to swing her sword to the soulless rhythm of his undead monsters. However, she couldn’t tell if the person swinging Veritas’s sword of justice was herself or some entity that had taken over her body. She had remained expressionless in the face of the demon lord’s taunts, but his words had undoubtedly severed the frayed rope that had once tied her hopes to her determination.

So many heroes had turned to dust, and now the symbol of their resistance had fallen. No matter how desperately Enthy tried to put the puzzle of their future back together, the end result would never be complete. She had lost too many pieces—too many friends—leaving only an ugly mess forever reminding her of their failures. What was the point of her survival? For what reason were they struggling towards an imperfect ending scarred by their incompetence? Why did the world continue to punish the good while allowing evildoers to run free?

Before she was engulfed by the dark veil beckoning her to sleep, she felt a light touch upon her head. “Remember,” a cold yet comforting voice said, before he too was harshly ripped away from her side.

“I’ll remember,”

she echoed. She remembered the question Veritas asked her four years ago, and she remembered the many promises she made while trying to find an answer. Thus she’d continue—broken, but no less determined.

She awoke to a scene all too familiar to her: the crude, gray ceilings of their prison cell was reminiscent of the prison in what was once Arden. Much like the prisoner from decades ago, Enthy made no moves to escape. The difference this time was that she was waiting. She carefully listened to the sound of the guards’ heavy boots clanking against the cold stone floors and the scuttling of vermin as their tiny claws scraped upon the walls. There wasn’t much she could do with what little information she’d managed to gather across her four months in the cell, but something was better than nothing. She just feared that she was beginning to run out of the luxury of time. No matter how hard she tried to conserve her strength for the “right opportunity”, she felt her strength gradually dwindle into nothing as the weeks passed.

Right as she was beginning to think that it was now or nothing, violent tremors shook the foundation of the prison and the pebbles at her feet rattled angrily at being disturbed. A deluge of panicked footfalls and shouting echoed down the halls of the prison, and a small smile crept onto her face in spite of their dire situation.

She nearly shouted Guō Yī Nuò’s name in relief but instead nodded her head at the moon elf’s instructions. Though she frowned at Aaxir’s harsh words, she nonetheless took it as a signal to shakily get to her feet and approach the listless woman.

“We have a score to settle,”

she said with less strength that she would have liked. When Eleanor didn’t answer, Enthy wordlessly hoisted the limp body upon her back and hoped the woman would at least hold onto her neck. Perhaps she wished to be left in the cell to rot, but the dragon wasn’t ready for another farewell when she knew things could be different. She just hoped the woman would forgive her for her bout of selfishness.

With Eleanor secured, Enthy gave the cell one last scan.

“Kai, do you have enough strength to carry Tatag?”

she asked Wanga’s hero. The poor ent had been through a particularly rough time in the four months leading up to the present and had all but shriveled up. Trusting in the man to lend a helping hand, she made her way out of the cell, though her right knee buckled once under the added weight of the human on her back.

“The others should be in a cell not too far from here, but I heard the guards once mention that Chrome is locked up in a separate cell somewhere,”

Enthy informed Yī Nuò. She gave the masked enigma accompanying the moon elf a curious glance but chose to ask questions later. If Yī Nuò had accepted their help, then she’d trust her mentor’s judgment.

Fortunately, the masked figure’s scaly companion proved useful in tracking down the rest of the heroes, and Yī Nuò made quick work of the trapped heroes’ bindings. As soon as more or less everyone had been accounted for, the masked figure would lead them back down a series of twisting corridors, no doubt retracing their steps given the corpses strewn about the floor.

 

[FiveElemental]

Korin Lork, Hound of Arlux
Interactions: Nessi

Three hundred and fourteen. Three hundred and fourteen times, that's the only thing Korin could keep track of, the amount of times his fingers were sliced off. Thirty seven times, his right arm was chopped off, and fourty times, his left. Aparently, the bunch of Tiryaan's grunts wanted some satisfaction of blood, wanting to make him suffer for all the bloodshed he caused... yeah right, they simply enjoyed it. However, they knew they could not touch the others as Tiryaan had ordered for our capture, and to be kept alive. Only he was special. Because any limbs he lost, he could grow back. It had became a game to these sadistic torturers. Seeing how many fingers it took before he could scream out in pain. Making sure the pain was just enough to make him suffer, just not enough to kil him. His regeneration was working over time to replace lost limbs, and close fatal wounds. The only thing that remotely changes here is the amount of his blood staining the walls of the torture room.

The only thing he was grateful for, is that they seemed satisfied enough with only seeing him suffer. Even without any screams of pain, enjoyed gutting, slicing, and pulling apart their infinitely repairable toy. They even taunted him, saying he'd be fed better food if he screamed loudly for them...

All he can remember is bloodshed, and bloodlust leading up to the final battle with Tiryaan. Filled to the brim with confidence and assuredness that they would be victorious. His naive dream of smiling alongside Arlux and the others. To be free from the expectation of others, and be... just happy, knowing that our futures were assured.

The heart of potential shattered that day.

It happened in a instant. In the climax of the fight, Arlux utilized everything she had, and threw herself at the man who threw everything away, for a chance at power. A pillar of blaring light blinded the battlefield, a mezmerizing, glorious light. My attention that was fully honed upon the enemies before me, distracted. But ecstatic, feeling that no one could survive her final blow.

...He was wrong, as he watched the blinding light. Holding the last corpse of the mountain of bodies Tiryaan left in his wake.... Arlux's body. The only one who didn't see him as a bloodstained monster. The only one who could see past himself. The only one who could make him feel, even after tens of thousands of years.

"..."

He sat there, as usual. In the cell with others, just recently thrown back in their after being dragged out once again. Any amount of morale they had initially was snuffed out by his disgusting wounds. However much the others tried to help. His regeneration was the only thing working in this mana sapping cell, almost as if it was fueled by something else entirely. Something the demonic socerers couldnt siphon out.

He couldn't moving a single muscle, the regeneration ability imparted onto him... a curse imparted onto him, slowly regrew the sinew and flesh of where his ear once was, trying to erase what had transpired over an hour ago. Death yearned for him, to come hold him tightly and to never let go. And, he certainly wished for such. When no amount of pain could ever filled what had been ripped away from him. Not even when his soles were hacked off by a rusty saw, nor when his eyes were poked out. It was truly a tempting offer for him, to simply die... to be with Arlux. With his heart shattered, his mind barely intact, he was ready to simply... let his wounds take him, to bleed out die... to close his eyes one... last... time...

'...I'm gonna see you soon... sweetheart.' His mind flared up, unable to even speak out his final words.

His spirit was snuffed out, yet embers still laid there. Almost taunting him to get up. To finish what he... what everyone started... To take revenge against what was stolen from him...

"Hiiii...." He managed to breathed in a pained, coarse tone, his many of his fingers still only half stumps, his ears sliced off, his bones still shatted and yet...

As long as he breathed, the fire that was his spirit wouldn't stop. He wasn't going to stop living.

"You can't break a promise..." He, by some miracle, managed to utter a few, haggered words out. Chuckling weakly. As he looked up, smiling weakly at a figure standing before him. Korin recognized who she was immediately, in that moment. Many questions wanted to be asked, and many answers to be given, all Korin had in him was one question.

"What took you so long? Old Hag..." He laughed weakly, pushing through the pain he felt everywhere in his body, as he forced himself to get up. His movement sluggishly and slow, having to press his good hand against the cell walls. Apparently, it's difficult to keep balance without properly formed toes, still. He couldn't hold back his fellow companions, who still having fight in them.

 

[Kibaa]

Khatiy of Usaama

Khatiy fought with tenacity. For she had been born into war, it was all she had ever known. And yet, at that very moment, as she stood side by side with the armies of Vetia who fought proudly against the evil forces of Olrodia, she had never experienced a conflict of such grand scale.

It did not deter her. With arrogance, she marched forward, with the Khopesh of Amanierenas in one hand, and the Sistrum of Bastet in the other. To rise against the threat that was Tiryan, the Sultaness had rallied the Sages of the Savannah, promiment clerics from the Lion Clan, the Elephant Clan and the Mountain Clan of Usaama. Together, they clashed forth against the unending hordes of Olrodia, fighting side by side with the powerful animal spirits that they commanded. A concerted effort of man and beast, a war machine of tooth and claw, to fight boldly against Tiryan's own ghastly monsters.

The conflict was bloody. Many a life had Khatiy taken, as did the heroes that she fought alongside with. She would not apologize for a single one of them.
...

"Forward! To victory!" Khatiy clamored, sundering through an opposing gremlin with the tip of her blade. So distracted was she with the arrogance of victory, that she had hardly noticed the final clash between Arlux and Tiryan. A surge, and next, a blinding wave of excruciating light, which's radiance instantly vaporized and vanquished almost all of the Usaaman war spirits, reducing the once proud squadron to dwindling numbers as shattered soul stones flew in bits across the field of battle. All but three of the spirits faded, returning to the unbroken summoning stones clipped at the Sultaness's waist. She hid her gaze behind the inner curve of her elbow, only to witness utter defeat as the light faded and she gazed forth at the tragedy that had unfolded.

Arlux had fallen, and at once, Khatiy would know, for the first time in her life, the taste of defeat. So foul and bitter it was, and yet she recognized it in an instant, knowing then and there that they had failed. For although Khatiy would gladly fight to the last tooth and nail, she knew the others would break without Arlux. And surely, with her own forces decimated, the Sultaness could not march any further. Gazing downwards, anger pouring through her features, Khatiy thunked the tip of her blade down into the dirt. Fury was all that she felt. She rued the day that her allies had ever placed their entire faith into Arlux.

...

In the beginning, Khatiy's imprisonment was nothing short of miserable. To be locked inside such a cramped space, drained of absolutely everything, slowly starved. The first few days were chaotic to the brim, full of constant quarrels with Kaida and Kannaka, and such insufferable arguments with Fel Petri. Constant bickering, as hunger ravaged through the party, drawing the worst out of everyone. The lifelessness of Eleanor and others sickened Khatiy with anger to no end. Physical sickness came from the spoiled scraps that they were fed, only occasionally being able to catch a rodent to eat by combining her efforts with Kanneka. She vowed to escape this place or die trying, even if it was at the cost of everyone else.

As the months past, the fiery spark that was Khatiy had quickly faded into depression. Above all else, above even the hunger, the lack of meat and the lack of mana, the unending cold of the prison was what consumed the warlord. A native of the southern wastes of Alkebu-lan, there was no greater weakness. Long hours, perhaps days, did she spend virtually lifeless upon the cold floor, shivering, suffering, crying. That death did not take her already was an inexplicable miracle.

But if the cold would not kill her, nothing would. For eventually, she would overcome even that, reaching deep down within herself, to the teachings of her elders so long ago. Through focus, patience, and hope, she would obtain clarity. Her thoughts raced back to the teachings of the Elephant Sages, who taught her the virtue of patience. The teachings of the Lion Clan and the Usaaman Lion Spirits, who taught her endurance. And the lessons of the Mountain Clan, who taught her wisdom and restraint.

Khatiy spent the waning days of the party's imprisonment searching for enlightenment, remaining in a steady state of meditation, perhaps not so dissimilar from the technique employed by Fel himself. She sat calmly against the cold walls, it had been days, if not weeks since she last opened her eyes. She had stopped eating, stopped talking. Breathing was the only thing she did. If anything, the cell was a lot more peaceful and quiet without the boisterous clamoring of the lioness.

The woman's ear twitched subtly, like that of a feline that had caught a sound in the vicinity, as rumbling and footsteps came from afar. At once, her eyes finally opened, her sharp feline gaze once more piercing into the environment after so long. At last, freedom had come.

"Ilamatl Yī Nuò! (Old Lady Yī Nuò!)" The woman yelled outwards, impatience evident in her tone. "It certainly took you long enough!" With unprecedented energy, the chosen hero of Bastet sprang to her feet, displaying an impressive level of bounciness. She stretched her arms, intent on getting her blood flowing and getting out of here as quick as possible. "Our time has come to regroup." She speaks out, in agreement with Enthyskana, as forward she stepped, towards freedom. Her gaze would linger downwards, glancing over the defeated body of Eleanor, finding truth in the words of Aaxir.

"... You really are pathetic, aren't you, Eleanor?" Khatiy remarked, a hint of pity evident in her tone. Even Korin had the courage to rise again. "Hmmph. Your sword will make a beautiful addition to my arsenal, at least." The Usaaman stepped out of the cell, stretching herself just a little more. "That is.. if our belongings still even exist. Do you know if our items were destroyed, Yī Nuò? Or, are they being kept somewhere?"

Gazing back into the cell, Khatiy scoffed at the sight of Enthyskana picking up Eleanor. A lost cause, if you asked her. Ironically, she seemed much more concerned about the husk that had become of Tatag, who she would quickly move to aid Kai in carrying, if allowed. "Little Sapling... You mustn't falter. Our rescuer has come at last."

A nod is given towards Enthyskana. "We must find van der Linde and the others. Surely, if they have kept us alive, they will be alive too. Korin, you have been taken out of the cell, had you seen where van der Linde's cell is?"

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

The roar of war flooded the former gladiator's ears, it was like tiny band of musicians crowded his ears and began whacking each other with their instruments in somewhat harmonious manner. Battlecries, grunts of exertion, the clash of steel upon steel, even the wet plops of blood seeping into the aesthetic floor of Olrodia's Emperor's palace were known to him. Rows of bodies far as even the gods' eye could see, and Tiberius was in the middle of this chaos. Him and his companions, his heroic friends, and the trusty Polux. He remembers... He remembers thinking how proud he felt at them, how... He wore a smile of pearly whites, that dripped toxicity. Venom against Tiryan's reign. And yet... that all came for naught as he was one of the first who saw Arlux's mangled and dead body. Like a catapult's projectile, the sight slammed him. It slammed him so much that he did not fathom when his back crashed against the mana-scathed walls.

He jolts. In the here and now, his body freezes as it remembered how to live. His left hand balled into a righteous, if weak-hearted fist. The azure optics draw themselves down to see Kaida resting her head against his thigh. Then sensation returned to him. The floor was cold. They were all cold. His body felt sickly brought down by the lack of nutrition. He could barely afford to exercise, it felt like a waste of energy. The change of notion about discipline, exercise... It felt odd to him, he was repulsed by it. Him, Tiberius Helvian, the gladiator who awoke at the crack of dawn and readied, tested, and improved his body for hours upon hours at a time.

Of course, it'd feel odd. After all... He died at the battle. In a manner of speaking, the blow that sent him pancaking against the wall stopped his heart for exactly two minutes and fifty-five seconds, before Polux's fist pummeled his chest in a desperate bid to revive his friend's heart. The gladiator thought it was Qin's idea, but he can't confirm that now. By the Gods... He groaned in himself. It feels so empty without you, the Mistress of the Night. He still tried to address her in these... Days, weeks... Months? Desperately calling out to a phantom. A ghost in his mind, it seems that whatever divine connection he shared with the Goddess of Darkness, she had left an impression in his mind like how a clay sculptor's spindly fingers leave behind imprints if they press them into their molded clay.

And what of the others, Tiberius thinks as his head creaks up to observe. How were they faring from their imprisonment? The ignominy of defeat, its yoke around their necks. Their spirits must be shattered. Devastated and yet... In all of this, Tiberius is simply concerned. He watched them waste away, day after day, he watched their squabbles, sometimes finding genuine humour in them, and his heart, It stopped entirely and yet now, it beats with a cold joy. A type of restrained joy that he is alive. He isn't well, that's obvious, but he was alive. And that meant everything. In ways, he was beaten, bruised, and scarred, but in others, he felt more free, more purposeful, and more peace than thought possible. By whatever Hells existed, he even enjoyed Kai's singing when they happened.

The source of his fortitude was not known to him. Perhaps, he went mad, oh so long ago, and now, he cannot be stopped. Can a man enter further madness once he has gone mad? Is madness a spectrum or is it simply a hole to which they all share? No, no. He shook his head to banish the thoughts. He was not mad. In fact, his mind is as sound as a beach's clear rivers. But he grew tired of exploring the situation for now. He stroked the vixen's hair and was just about to lull back into a slumber when the distant explosion, muffled by the gallows' bricks and mortar, tingled his ears like someone flicked water or blew air into them. The tremors reached their cell too, just how powerful was this explosion? His mind raced, but quickly silenced by discipline.

He rose from the dust-riddled floor of defeat. Their time was now and he was vindicated in his faith. He pulled back the strands of his dirtied, blond hair. It was Old Lady Guō Yī Nuò who had rescued them as her form before them suggested. Likely not alone though, she had requested help. Good, good, except Tiberius doesn't suspect that an army came for them. This is a small unit endeavour.

"Aaxir, Khatiy, muzzle yourselves." The gladiator spoke with a fire in his throat, ice in his heart, and titanium in his back. He stepped out immediately, body, while yet decayed, propelled by an unseen strength. He cracked his neck to the side."No tears, no sorrow. Now we set to work. And there will be time for questions later. Those of you strong enough, carry the will-less or the infirm. If not then place them on my back." He turned with a finger towards the others then he looked back at the Old Lady. "Avia [m: Grandmother], it is good to see you again."

He looked at the masked figure beside the moon elf figure. "I take it this is the extent of our rescue entourage? It'll be enough." He smiled once again. Was it weak? Yes, it was, but the spirit behind it was unbroken and undefiled.

 

[DSLIX]

Chrome Van Der Linde

All the time Chrome has lived and breathed he's always been use to conflict and violence usually finding himself being followed by the constant threat of violence but ever since his meeting with his fellow heroes it only became more of something Chrome would grow accustom too. Now surrounded by enemies to distract most from his allies he fights ruthlessly his blood magic in full display as he conjures weapons out of blood to wield and fire from range simultaneously piercing and shattering the enemies bodies to cause as much bloodshed as possible. His stamina being regenerated by his rapid consumption of blood keeping him from tiring out any time soon and he continues his massacre until he sees a blinding light out of the corner of my eye and is drawn to the attention of Arlux's divine form charging to clash into Tiryan and came with that a light so bright Chrome almost thought he went blind. There was an eerie silence as the whole seemed to just stop for a moment turning to the attention of the incredible events at hand waiting to see the victor. Chrome sometimes wishes he was blind as seeing Tiryan triumphantly walk out the smoke carrying Arlux's limp and mangled body like a cruel child and his doll. Chrome's chest pained with a strong guilt and regret as his throat closed up as the enemies cheered around him, and a quiet emptiness had enveloped his whole being as it temporarily blocks out everything in his mind while Hanuman speaks to him in his head "Your light has failed will you just be consumed by darkness so sadly?" Those words awaken spark a fire in Chrome's heart and mind and he lets out a long and deep war-cry letting all his emotions out with his vocals for a long minute causing the troops around them even though drunk on our loss show fear to Chrome’s sudden expression. Chrome then only gives a small menacing grin before he starts just recklessly charging and tearing through Tiryan's troops killing everything in sight with his bare hands ripping, breaking, and piercing their bodies without hesitation. His mind was clouded by the anger and depressing guilt inside him and he wanted everything around him to feel that same way creating a trail of brutalized and horrendously twisted bodies in his wake like a feral animal until eventually he was the last one standing the other's too tired or overwhelmed to continue and soon Chrome follows as well finally being knocked unconsciousness by one of Tiryan's hands.

Chrome would wake up as a group of Tiryan's hands beat and hold him down as they nail stakes through his hands and feet to impale him to a dark wall in a cell. The stakes imbued with mana-draining abilities so it became much more difficult to resist as he was being sapped of a good amount of his strength. Due to his strong body though it took them an hour to nail one stake completely through his hand and a rather painful hour at that. 3 more agonizing hours after that he was completely nailed to the wall and exhausted from the aching and draining pain throughout his body. Though Chrome wouldn't really have time to catch his breath as he served as he served the role of a training dummy for the hands due to his near impenetrable body, and for 4 months every single day Chrome would be beaten near non-stop for 12 hours a day in nearly any way imaginable. His regeneration being pushed to the limit as he had been lashed, stabbed, and beaten till he vomited enough blood to fill a bucket. Chrome had to spend all his rest time meditating struggling to build mana what little mana he can to help speed up his regeneration before it's snatched away by his restraints. Chrome bathed in his guilt of letting Arlux lose and the painful memory of loss becoming numb to the pain of his everyday hell as his guilt was the most painful sensation of all. Hanuman didn't speak to Chrome much mainly just giving him lectures on his meditation and breathing to help him deal with the stress and torture while also showing disgust at the weakened state of Chrome, but Chrome being a victim to his circumstance lacks the pride to fight trying to balance his depressed and intoxicating anger that threatens to drive him to madness brewing in the back of his mind. Soon he reaches a point of enlightenment entering a almost unbreakable focus and being able to quietly endure the daily beatings and sadistic torture as his will and pride to be free and unbeatable invigorates his bruised and bleeding body.

Now Chrome sits hanging quietly and unmoving as he's impaled to the wall his head dangling as his face his down and his now long and wild hair sit over half his face making him look almost sleep but instead he's trying to breathe and gather a little bit of mana to help heal his body luckily needing only needing a miniscule amount of mana to control blood withing his own body. Though his focus would be interrupted by distance footsteps and a crimson minion asking one of Chrome's guard's to come with him as backup, and Chrome immediately saw it as an opportunity waiting until he could no longer hear the group of guards in the hallway of his cell. Chrome immediately starts letting out a deep and raspy yell trying to aggravate and taunt his lone guard as he tugs against one of the looser stakes on his hands feeling his hands slowly tear loose from it's grip not minding the gut wrenching pain or tearing a hole through his hand as he taunts the guard. Eventually the guard folds and walks in his cell with a cruel look. "Want some fucking attention I got some fucking attention for you." The minion walks with a pissed expression on his face at Chrome but as soon the guard steps into range Chrome smiles and in a burst of strength rips his hand through the stake impaling it to use his long and dirty nails to cut straight into the minion's neck causing blood to at first spurt but then recollect itself mid-air and slowly makes it's way over to Chrome's wounds and into his skin to reinvigorate him enough to detach himself from the wall to impale the guard with the stake still lodged in his other hand continuing to drain him of all his blood and mana feeling euphorically delightful as he does. As he just about drains the guard dry of everything leaving him in a dry husk of flesh and bone he walks out of his cell to the sight of Lady Guo and his beaten battered group of heroes with a wide and kind eyes feeling sorrow seeing them in this state as well as a strong desire to hold them all out of worry and consideration. Though he said nothing as he met their eyes his happy smile yet worrying gaze showing the same everlasting concern has for his party. He simply walks up front next to Lady Guo and her companion as she leads the group feeling exhilarated being with his party again and an extreme lust for blood for allowing Tiryan to treat his companions as such saying to the group as he joins them in a deep and raspy voice "How relieving it is to see you all despite your conditions. Please stay behind me if you cannot fight." He offers his body as a shield to the group feeling a fulfilling desire to protect his companions more than ever now.

 

[Nessi]

Guō Yī Nuò

Yī Nuò used her dao to cut off any shackles that were placed upon her grandchildren, and resisted the urge to hug every last one of them. Sure, some were harsh, but Yī Nuò could understand why…they had lost so much, in such a short amount of time…when considering that, of course some things would be said that shouldn’t.
“It’s good to see you all…I’m sorry this took so long, but I didn’t exactly have the support of an army, so I had to plan accordingly and wait until the perfect conditions.” Yī Nuò explained to everyone.

“Ahem, if we’re all ready to go, I’d suggest we start heading to go collect your weapons, which I’ve already located.” Nomad interrupted.
“Ah, everyone, this is Nomad, a comrade of mine. They’ll be helping us bust you all out of here.” Yī Nuò explained.
Nomad waved their hand, before placing it back into the hilt of the blade. “Yeah, but before we go, we need to get your weapons back into your hands. Once your all armed, I’ll create a teleportation circle, which will send us to a hideout of mine far, far away from here.” Nomad explained.
“If you have any other questions, save it for another time, for now, everyone needs to follow me and Nomad, and stay behind us.” Yī Nuò ordered, turning towards the exit.

Corpses littered the hallways and corridors that Yī Nuò and co moved through. While time and speed were of the essence, due to the nature of most of the heroes physical and mental states, they weren’t able to move as fast as they had liked. What made Yī Nuò more uneasy however, was that fact that she hadn't seen or heard any guards since freeing her allies. Just before she brought this fact up, the group would come to a grinding halt at the entrance to a rather large hallways. Said hallway seemed to have every available guard that could fit in there.
“Yī Nuò, the weapons are at the end of the hall.” Nomad sighed.
“Hm, I can cau-“
“Oh, don’t worry, I can handle this. Just give me a moment…Ifrit!” Nomad shouted, causing all the guards to turn their attention to her. “Oh, you should be picking a god to pray to right now, because you're going to die soon.” Yī Nuò remarked.

The ground would once again begin to shake, and the temperature of the room would start rising at concerning speeds. Then, the wall to the left of the guards would begin to glow hot red, until a being that seemed to be made of fire and molten rock emerged, floating above all the guards, who were currently panicking and sweating due to the rapidly increasing heat.
“Incinerate them.” Nomad ordered.
The summon made a loud groaning noise before outstretching its rocky hands, and drowned the room in an ocean of fire. At first, there were screams and cries for help, for mercy. But after a few minutes, there was just silence, and that’s when Ifrit stopped, absorbing all the fire it had created.

“Problem solved. Let’s go get your weapons.” Nomad said. The stench of burnt flesh was obviously strong, but Yī Nuò tried her best to not think about it too much, and gestured for her fellow heroes to follow her. It would only take a minute if walking over corpses, to finally reach the heroes weapons.
Despite being the room that housed the weapons of all the heroes, the once heavily guarded room was quite plain, each weapon simply being hung on the wall. When each weapon was reunited with their owner, their god would come out, and they’d share their own intimate moment together.
Yī Nuò chuckled at the display before her, “This is something I’d never thought I’d ever see…even as a hero.”

“Oh yeah, it’s definitely a sight for sore eyes.” Nomad said sarcastically as they used chalk to create a magic circle.
“Uh huh…how long until that thing is ready to go?” Yī Nuò asked.
“Well, if I continue uninterrupted, then another 10 minutes. I have a few summons running around, so that should keep the guards distracted for long enough.” Nomad explained.
Yī Nuò sighed, and set herself down next to Nomad. It seemed like for the most part, the operation was a complete success

 

[Defined Comedy]

Kaleo Haukea

How many times has this scene played out? The sounds of steel clashing against steel, the pained cries of beast and man alike, and the beating pulse of the battlefield. A sea of bodies filled its veins, with each launching into a desperate struggle to fight off invaders. Clotting in an attempt to seal their lacerations, only to once more find a blade driven into their side. With each continued thump, that intoxicating scent was pushed through yet another wound, releasing its tantalizing metallic spray to cling in the air while the ground was stained in its beautiful shade. No matter how many times she'd encountered such a scene, that first breath was the only one that never tasted of blood.

'On your left! It's going for a leg sweep! Watch out for the grapple!' With a sudden surge of speed, Kaleo's hands grasped around the demonic soldier's arm before she twisted her body sharply, wrenching it as she did. The sound of stressing metal plates popping free, along with an all too familiar squelching crunch, rang out before the creature suddenly found itself lifted up and hurled into the ground below. "I appreciate it, but I'd prefer if you took more care in watching my back. I have the front covered." Speaking aloud to the goddess in her head, she turned from the crumpled body and cracked flooring she had created in the scuffle. Her allies were a distance away, though that too was intentional of her; hastily, her gaze fixed towards the oncoming foes. Gripping her spear tightly, she prepared to strike the smaller foes down, but their attention was quickly pulled towards the pillar of light. In this temporary lapse, they found themselves impaled by a sudden surge of ice pillars.

That pillar of light soon vanished. The sudden burst of it's remnant force had sent shockwaves over the battlefield, and it was unlikely that a single head hadn't turned to its source. In that momentary quiet, the thrum of the battlefield had suddenly stopped, as if even the quiet pulse of a heartbeat would disrupt this moment. As the result of the battle was shown, her eyes would widen, and the bloodied figures that emerged marked the end of the conflict. Arlux had been slain.

As the opposition cheered and her allies, those who were still capable of speech, released bitter remarks, she felt an unexplainable relief. How many times had she seen this sight? That broken form and empty eyes that only death could bring—it was familiar, yet for some reason this one felt different. The tenseness in her shoulders eased, her combative stance mellowing as she couldn't even begin to fathom the expression on her face. All she knew was that somewhere inside of her, it felt as though a knotted mass had unraveled. The vampire's face would pale more than usual as a wave of nausea slammed against her. Bracing against her spear, she never once broke her stare from that scene.

"Huh. I guess you were more of a firefly than a guiding flame. Eh, Leader?"

Her stomach churned at her own words, sweat beginning to bead even heavier upon her bloodstained brow. In spite of this, in spite of the fact that the declaration of their defeat in this war was actively being broadcast, it all felt so right. "Kaleo, what are you- Behind you!" As the voice of her most trusted partner faded, a sudden jolt from behind her lowered the curtain on that scene.

- ~ -​

Dim light flooded in as her eyes slowly fluttered open, a quiet hiss escaping her lips as she once again attempted to move her shackled arm. Today was yet another day when those dilapidated stone walls taunted her weakened state. It would inevitably be another evening where she would hear or be subject to some form of abuse from the guards—a convenient hero-shaped punching bag to vent their own weakness on. The scabbed gash above her right eye, a recent 'gift' from their captors, had made such a thing abundantly clear. For a short time, she tried to escape her bindings, only to gain a biting kiss from the restraints digging into her wrists.

As Kaleo looked between her allies, she couldn't help but find many of those she held in high regard pitiable. The scene had simply been too much for them, and the cracks in their armor were now apparent. In her case, she'd managed to keep it together, though the void Poli'Ahu had left in her mind was grating nearly as much as that sense of guilt she continued to swallow down. Leaning against one of the walls, she continued to watch the bars if only to distract herself from the lengthening locks that attempted to curtain her vision and the layers of weakness and grime that had accumulated in the time spent here.

To many, the time spent here was likely painstakingly long, but with the amount of time she'd walked this planet, it was but a drop in the bucket—physically at least. A distant rumble drew her attention; some sort of commotion could be heard as well, but relative quiet quickly returned. The more eager of her companions seemed to be making a move to see what was going on, and rather than waste energy getting excitable, she waited for the footsteps to draw nearer. It was only after the figure had come close enough to the cell that recognition dawned on her. "Yī Nuò... A pleasant surprise."

Peeling away from the stone wall behind her, the first thing that struck her was a desire for the luxury of a bath, but that too would have to wait for them to escape. "I'm in your debt after we get through this." Despite reserving what little strength she had, there was no restraining the relieved sigh as the remnants of her bloodied shackles fell to the floor. Turning her gaze from the unpleasant condition of her wrists back to the group she too would join in the narrow prison hall, "Lets hurry and try to avoid getting picked off by Tiryan's men. Our captivity has certainly dulled my strength, but if any of you need a shoulder or back to rest against, I'll gladly provide aid."

Though there were obvious differences in the conditions of those standing now, chance had swung in their favor. But even in that condition, survival was better as a group, far better than foolishly rushing in alone. It wasn't long before the new face, or lack thereof, was introduced to the group. Giving a simple nod towards the other half of their rescue crew, she made haste in following their instructions, toting along anyone who had accepted her offer of support. This 'Nomad' had taken it upon themselves to handle the situation before them, and Kaleo couldn't help but lift an arm in an attempt to shield her face from the heat that quickly charred the guards blocking their path. Pushing past the scene of the superheated creatures devastation, she pressed herself to focus on the objective ahead.

A tugging sensation had weakly begun pulling her closer, gentle and yet so unfathomably strong, almost like the desperate pulls of a child attempting to free their wagon from an entanglement of weeds. As the other half of her strength continued to test this divine thread, Kaleo continued stepping towards it until she placed her hand upon that all-too-familiar spear. A swirling burst of cold seemed to rush from the numerous teeth adorning the spearhead as a sudden 'clean' scent surrounded the area of rapidly collecting snowflakes, hints of arcing energy spreading between them as the outline of a figure was made known.

A sudden, sharp crack could be heard as Kaleo's face recoiled from the sudden slap she had received. Not a second later had she been enveloped by the contrasting tan of Poli'Ahu, "ʻO ke kaikamahine naʻaupō, naʻaupō. [You stupid, stupid girl.]" Leaning into the snow goddess's embrace, Kaleo could just hold herself up, using the deity as a brace. "I probably deserved that... It's good to see your gentleness is strong as ever." In spite of the chill she generally brought with her, Kaleo could feel the deity's warm smile just out of sight. A brief but comforting moment given the otherwise bleak situation of recent. Perhaps the weeks of near starvation had caught up with her. Meekly returning the embrace, the vampire allowed herself to bask in that temporary moment of warmth.

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

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Although Aaxir had quite literally turned his back on the rest of the heroes, he could feel the reignited willpower of the group crescendo to a chorus. Their souls were practically screaming out to fate that the world had not yet ended and that hope lived within them. Deep down they had never given up, clinging onto even the smallest glimmer of hope, even Eleanor. Cutting through that chorus Aaxir was surprised Khatiy seemed to echo his sentiments in regards to hero Eleanor, even going as far to claim her sword. In a strange way he was internally screaming for her to get up...to show even a glimpse of the person she was before; however, that appeared to be a lost cause as Enthy picked her up. Aaxir's eyes furrowed with the intent to scold Enthy ; however, before he could say anything it was Tiberius who reprimanded the young dragon, as well as Khatiy, for their treatment of a fellow hero eliciting a low growl from Aaxir. The choice of words were a poor indeed as a strong disdain welled up within Aaxir.

"Muzzle? .....As if I'd ever let a mere human muzzle me Tiberius." Things wouldn't be the same, they couldn't be the same. Holding hands, laughing together, expecting success simply due to their camaraderie and faith was all a dream turned nightmare. It was time for everyone to wake up and face the truth. Despite his growing rage, his eyes softened when they trailed back toward Enthy and Eleanor. "...Enthy...be vigilant. Should we be swarmed by the enemy, they will be sure to target those of us who are most compromised. Be careful." He opened his mouth to say something else and then thought better of it. Aaxir had confidence that his fellow dragon was strong enough to fight the enemy if need be, even in this state. Doing so while taking care of Eleanor was another story. However, carrying dead weight was how Arlux died...he wouldn't let that happen again.

The wily hag had freed them and explained the situation, even Chrome had met fortune's favor and joined the escape party. As instructed he saved any questions and concerns for after they were officially free. That said he couldn't help but constantly wonder about the Ancient Forest and the current state of the world; nevertheless, he had to keep his focus. They were in enemy territory after all. His concerns were immediately validated when they were suddenly faced with a horde of enemies orchesrtating an ambush. Aaxir took a quick look toward Enthy before preparing for battle, even in his relatively miserable state he was ready to charge into the enemy lines and induce terror success be damned, but it wasn't needed. The one who introduced himself as Nomad, who was admittedly underestimated in Aaxir's eyes, put on a display of power with such ease and cold efficiency that it even left the dragon impressed. It was a complete victory. Oddly enough Aaxir found the smell of burning flesh oddly satisfying. After months of cruel treatment, humiliation and defeat, Aaxir would be lying if he didn't relish the opportunity to strike back even by proxy. Perhaps what he smelled was a change in the winds of fate, or maybe he was just that sadistic. Nomad and the hag directed them to their weapons and thus their gods. Aaxir wasn't completely thrilled to be reunited with his. He knew her long enough to know she was going to give him absolute shit. Other than Arlux, Tutu Pele had to be the hardest person to deal with.

Aaxir walked toward the large obsidian slab that rivaled his own height as if he was on death row. It was surreal being this close to regaining a form of strength and re-establishing himself as a hero of this world. He had grew accustomed to being drained of his strength, the taste of emptiness,, and despair. As he reached out, he saw something that gave him pause. It was Arlux. Then it was her blood. His hand quivered as her death replayed before him; however, he stilled his hand...his prideful stare unchanging despite the circumstances. He grabbed his weapon.

"Tutu...wake up."

There was no response.

"Pele...Arise."

Nothing, and it would remain that way as Aaxir held out his sword for what seemed like minutes before sighing out of frustration and regret. "Fine....O' great benevolent, and most beautiful goddess Tutu Pele, I have returned..." Aaxir said with the charisma of crustless bread which was met with a contrasting display of energy, fire, and lightning that made Aaxir internally roll his eyes. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation in the slightest. He wouldn't be surprised if she could sense that her sister, rather, her sisters hero, was nearby and was laying it on just a little thick for show. Anytime Aaxir even thought to open his mouth a sporadic burst would reignite her entrance until Aaxir would eventually let her burn out in every sense of the word. Eventually the flames subsided, and the light faded..revealing Tutu Pele, the volcanic goddess in all her glory. Aaxir wasn't accustomed to looking up toward many people, after all he assumed the form of human like creature of significant height and his dragon form was leagues larger; however, Tutu Pele had always made it a point to float well above him which always put more weight into her condescending death stares.

"Aaxir the Red...I awaited your return, patiently. I am a benevolent goddess after all," she said through gritted teeth and an unwavering gaze. Aaxir met her eyes with his, but met her voice with silence. He knew her well enough to know when a one side conversation was taking place and a part of him felt it was warranted. Her eyes wandered dramatically around the room as if searching for something. "My dear Aaxir...is this the world you were trying to create? Very bleak environment for a god to be don't you think? Can't say I approve" she said while sarcastically waving her hand with the dramatic flair that only she could muster before slowly resting her eyes on Aaxir yet again. "Aaxir....You were defeated. You couldn't even reach him."

She sounded disappointed, angry and even...hurt? Aaxir bit the inside of his cheek out of frustration, but he did not waver. When faced with the truth excuses were as flimsy arrows shot to a raging behemoth. "If you think another champion would suit you better go find one," Aaxir said flatly barely able to contain the hint of annoyance and frustration. However, A burst of flame and lightning immediately emitted from the goddess as she lost herself to uncontrollable bouts of laughter that sounded like thunder.

"MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH, HoHOHOHOHhohoh...Ohhhhhhhhh....ohhhhh...oh my. My dearest Aaxir, your comedic genius is severely unappreciated and to say it with a straight face no less. HA!.....Find another champion," she said while gently placing a hand on his shoulder that forced Aaxir to buckle to a kneeling position and wiping away an imaginary tear. "....It doesn't work like that. Besides, doing so would be admitting in a lapse of my judgement and then I would be the JESTER of the ENTIRE PANTHEON AND MY SI-. Ahem, No...that simply will not do...." She floated lower and embraced her champion, burying her head in his chest to his surprise. "But....things certainly could have been worse...you could have..I don't know...died in a dramatic final clash sealing our fates for eternity. So..I suppose I should thank you for surviving." She held on tighter while Aaxir could not help but notice that was an oddly specific and tactless example. "I did miss you...my champion," she said softly. It wasn't exactly the sweetest combination of phrases, but Aaxir often found it better to say less in order to adapt to Tutu Pele's mood...though his pride and misplaced confidence often betrayed him.

"...I won't be defeated again."

Tutu Pele lifted her head as a hand slowly wove its way to Aaxir's face. There was a softness in her eyes as if tears would flow down her face at any moment. "I'd expect no less from my champion. If you were to die...." Suddenly the grip on his face tightened and for a brief second Aaxir saw himself incinerate before being brought to reality just as fast. He instinctively touched his jaw only to realize Pele was now patting his chest gently with her hand. He even began to wonder if he was hallucinating due to lack of stamina. "My heart wouldn't be able to take it," she said with a smile behind an eerily calm tone. With widened eyes he rubbed his jaw before releasing a low chuckle. That went wayyyyyy better than he expected. Before dissipating she looked him up and down before expressing a look of concern. "What have you been eating this entire time? Moldy bread or something? Clean yourself up and go eat some wild beasts or whatever it is you give your urges to. I can't have you looking like an undead."
Aaxir stood up again and nodded. Tutu Pele responded with a smil of her own...a smile completely contrasting her sinister smirk earlier. A volcano that lied dormant for a time had now awakened.

 

[Beann]

Suzuki Kaida

Now was not the time to cry. Taking in a deep breath, Kaida exhaled out slowly while rubbing her eyes. It only took her a couple more seconds to gather her bearings before she was ready to go. She followed quietly behind Obachan and her masked companion, occasionally looking over her shoulder to ensure the others were following as well.

Traversing the hallways, she wasn't surprised the group would eventually encounter guards. An explosion on top of the release of all the heroes definitely called for the prison to be on full alert. However, what they didn't expect — nor did Kaida — was for them to be engulfed in a devastating inferno. Her ears flattened at the sound of their screams, a gruesome thought to be burned alive. Once the sounds died down though, the group wasted no time getting to where they needed to be: to their weapons.

Although her body ached when every step, the kitsune pushed herself, the anticipation of reuniting with her goddess fueling her legs. As the group of heroes entered the room, her eyes darted from one weapon to the next, easily picking out the legendary katana, dormant in its scabbard. She stumbled over to her weapon and reached to grab it. The feeling was similar to the time she had reunited with the spirits of those who raised her. A sudden surge of warmth and genuine happiness. "It's good to see you have not joined the spirits," her goddess appeared behind her.

Kaida whipped around and it was clear she was fighting back the emotions she was currently experiencing. Wordlessly, she lunged forward, embracing Inari Okami tightly. The goddess returned the hug, gently stroking the back of her champion’s head. “We will have time to catch up later. For now, eat.” Pulling away from the embrace, her goddess slid a hand into the sleeve of her kimono and took out a fresh loaf of bread. Kaida was quick to accept the gift, eagerly taking a bite and forgetting all about the terrible scraps she had to endure these past months.

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

The intimately familiar stench of burning flesh filled the air. Fel cast a wary glance at their masked savior as he stepped past the smouldering remains of the Olrodian guards. Summoners were a rare sight even in the Isles and those capable of such impressive displays of strength were all but nonexistent. An odd sight to see right after being freed from a four month-long imprisonment. But if Yī Nuò trusted the mysterious, masked summoner - and she clearly did - then he'd put aside his mistrust for now.

All thoughts of Nomad were entirely forgotten as Fel spotted his staff, hung on the stone wall besides an array of other weapons. He gently lifted it from its hooks and gripped the magical focus with frail, gaunt hands. Immediately, the elf felt a sense of strength begin to return to his haggard form, a comfort granted by finally reuniting with his oldest companion. Ever since emerging from that grim cell, the trickle of mana returning to him had slowly grown - still too minute to restore his reserves in any notable capacity - but now armed with his staff, Fel no longer felt as unbearably defenseless as he had for the past few months. His hands passed over the staff's length swiftly, searching for and finding no damage. Despite the many battles it had served him through, the weapon had never so much as suffered a single crack on its resilient surface. The luminescent crystals embedded in his staff glimmered as Fel pushed a few spare droplets of mana into the medium and summoned forth a small, flickering ball of flame. Its radiating warmth brought a thin smile to the elven mage's lips.

"As much as it pleases me to see you enjoy yourself, is it not time you turned your attention to me, my champion? It has been months since we've been separated."

"Ayao." Fel turned to face his goddess, who'd appeared beside him as silently and unceremoniously as ever. "Forgive me for the... impropriety. My imprisonment has been taxing. I'm afraid you've caught me a bit off-kilter."

Ayao raised an eyebrow and examined the elf's skeletal figure with a dispassionate gaze. "'Taxing' is putting it lightly. Years of physical refinement undone in but a few paltry months. I will hardly blame you for the conditions of your confinement, but we will be establishing a rigorous regimen to improve your condition. No champion of mine will resemble a mummified corpse."

"...And is that all you have to say?" asked Fel, slowly grinding the end of his staff into the floor as a flickering sense of dissatisfaction grew. "Nothing about how we ended up here? No comments about how we let down everyone, let down every hope placed upon our shoulders?" Fel glared at Ayao now, his voice raising quickly. He advanced on his goddess, burning with a loathing rage. "About how we couldn't defeat Tiryan or his filthy rats? About all those who are dead now, because of us? About Arlux?" For a moment Fel stood, nose-to-nose with Ayao's stony visage and it seemed he might even strike at her. Then, the anger slipped away and his shoulders sagged. The elf's gaze turned to the ground and his voice faded, hardly even a whisper now. "About how I've failed?"

There was a long moment of silence as Fel stood, unable to raise his shameful gaze higher than Ayao's feet. Then the goddess reached out, pressing a palm to her hero's cheek and firmly guiding his head up. Ayao waited as Fel's eyes darted away, unable or unwilling to look directly at her.

"Look at me," she commanded. Finally, Fel brought himself to face her gaze. There, he found a surprising combination of emotions: the chracteristic steely resolve Ayao always carried with her, but also a hint of empathy and even a flicker of worry. "Yes, you've failed. That is undeniable. Countless have no doubt perished as a result. This is a burden you may carry for the rest of your life. But you must not permit yourself to founder by this failure. So long as you live, all is not lost." Ayao directed Fel to look at the rest of his companions. "Still, a chance at victory remains. Do not waste your energies dwelling on the past when you are still needed in the present. You must fight, fight harder than ever before for the sake of all those have fallen before you." Ayao watched Fel sharply for a breath and then, surprisingly, embraced the young elf in a rare show of affection, burying his head in her shoulder. "But I understand how much you've struggled. You've done well and... I am glad you still live, my champion. The future will not be any easier, but I know we will manage together. I am proud of you, Fel."

The hero nodded silently, hugging his goddess tightly for a few moments more. There was something terribly enthralling within the comfort granted by Ayao's arms and it was difficult to finally pull away. With a faint smile, Ayao vanished as quietly as she'd arrived, merely there one moment and gone the next. She left him with a faint breeze that tousled Fel's hair and a renewed sense of purpose.

---

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[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Even when facing down her greatest enemies, Nel didn’t like to make her opponents suffer. That was why she trained so hard all those years ago to make sure her water blades were sharp and fast and never missed! So when she heard the screams of the guards as they were consumed by Ifrit’s hellfire, she couldn’t help but cringe and cover her ears. She was sure that Nomad was a good summoner! But they should try and make Ifirt’s fire burn even hotter so that their enemies turned crispy before they even felt it!

But the deed was done, and soon the guards were finally freed from their suffering. Nel pinched her nose daintily as she hopped over the cooked bodies and into the room.

It didn’t take long at all for Nel to spot her wand. No other weapons were as adorable and colorful as Lycoris, after all! And it was especially easy to find since it was hung high on the wall like a sweet prize. But one teeny problem.

Nel reached behind her and lifted her left forewing by its tip. She shook it a little, and the wing flapped limply like a useless piece of scrap paper. Even the pretty sparkles on her wings were dull! She hadn’t flown in forever, and she didn’t think her wings were capable of bringing her so high up. A quick glance around told her that many of her vertically-advantaged friends were busy hugging and chatting with their gods, and she’d feel terrible breaking up the touching reunions by asking them to reach up for her.

Oh well! Time to go for the most primitive solution!

Nel gingerly took a few weapons off the lower hooks and set them on the floor; she was sure her friends wouldn’t mind! Once she had a clear path, she stepped onto one of the hooks and gripped another with her hand, then heaved herself upwards. She repeated the process and secured her opposite hand and foot on two higher hooks until she was scaling the wall like a winged monkey.

“Just a little more, aaand… Gotcha!” Nel swiped Lycoris off its place on the wall and cheered victoriously.

“What. Are you doing?”

Nel gasped at the familiar voice. She looked down and saw Shiva staring up at her with a pinched expression. Oh, and Nel realized she wasn’t actually that high off the floor. Why did it feel like she just scaled a mountain then?

”I was getting Lycoris!” Nel answered, shaking her wand in the air. Her limbs were starting to tremble with the strain of supporting her weight, and she squealed out, ”I can’t get down with one hand! Catch me!”

Without waiting for a reply, she pushed herself off the wall. Shiva made a strangled sound that was pretty ungodly, but caught her by the waist anyway. And he didn’t even squash her wings! Before Nel could thank him though, he threw her off of him like he’d just gotten burned.

Nel didn’t care and reattached herself by throwing her arms around Shiva’s middle.

”Shiva! I missed you!” she cried out. Unsurprisingly, her god didn’t hug her back. He had four strong arms, but didn’t use a single one for hugging! How sad!

But after a beat of silence, she felt a tap on her head. Blinking, she looked up just in time to see Shiva pull his hand back. He was staring a hole into the wall like nothing had happened. Nel’s mouth dropped open.

”You patted my head!” Nel cooed. ”Do it again!”

”No.” Shiva scowled. ”Release me. You smell.”

Nel squeaked, reeling back from Shiva. ”You can’t say that to a lady!”

”I see no lady here,” Shiva said blandly. He stared down at Nel, and she met his gaze with a bright smile. He sighed deeply. Had he been a mere mortal, he may have looked to the skies for strength. Instead, he said, ”I suppose there is no point in telling you to reflect on the results of the battle.”

Images of all of Nel’s dead comrades and enemies flashed in her head. Arlux’s last moments lingered for a particularly long moment before she shook it from her mind. Nel pressed her lips together in a pout.

”I already did,” she mumbled. ”I’m gonna keep fighting hard.”

Shiva nodded. ”For all your faults, at least you do not lack in tenacity.”

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

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The combined strength of their motley crew worn down by four months of starvation was nothing more than a pitiful ember that could hardly ignite the wick of a candle. Nomad—as Yī Nuò called her—proved herself to be a much needed ally given the number of weakened heroes that their two rescuers had to drag along. Despite the distinct lack of movement and the acrid scent of burnt flesh proving that the coast was clear, Enthy took heed of Aaxir’s warning and continued onwards through the corridor with a heightened guard. Her grip on her lifeless passenger’s thighs tightened, determined to see her mission through regardless of how much the extra weight caused her fatigued joints to burn.

Though the sight of the divine weapons being hung upon the wall like a display of war trophies caused Enthy to bristle in anger, her manner of placing Eleanor against a nearby wall was gentle as could be. The spirit in the woman’s eyes was still very much lost, and the dragon couldn’t help but frown. There must be something she could do. With these thoughts in mind, she turned back towards the wall hosting the divine weapons.

The closer Enthy drew to the wall, the stronger the pull of her divine weapon became, yet her eyes remained locked on a curved blade to the far left of the wall. Unhooking it from its confines, she studied its curvature and the make of its sheath, as if uncertain of its identity. Paimon’s talwar felt foreign in her hands, no doubt a weapon that didn’t belong in her possession, but she’d seen it enough times to know that she’d retrieved the correct weapon. Contrary to her expectations, the owner of the blade seemed a little less dull when the talwar entered her line of sight. She made for a particularly pitiful picture against the backdrop of heroes reanimated within the embrace of their respective deities, but the young dragon knew that she no longer had to worry. Paimon had saved Eleanor once, and she hoped that the god held the key to igniting the spirit of his lost follower once again.

“Here,”

Enthy breathed out softly, offering up the talwar gripped lightly in her right hand. When the defeated hero reached up to grab the sword of her own volition, the dragon knew everything would be fine.

With her role complete, Enthy left the stage to the duo and finally reached for the divine weapon she called her own. The leather binding of the tome felt warm and inviting in her hands, and she couldn’t help but smile gently while sweeping a palm over it once to remove the dust off its cover. However, she jumped and nearly dropped the divine tome when a familiar presence materialized behind her. Timidly locking her arms over the tome and clutching it against her chest, she stiffly turned to face the frosty gaze bearing down on her.

Every response to their reunion that her dreams simulated had vanished completely, replaced by a white void that screamed at her to say something. Anything. Yet Enthy could only continue to return the God of Justice’s silent stare while uselessly flapping her mouth open and closed.

Veritas finally broke their stalemate with what Enthy could only interpret as scathing sarcasm.

“Never would I have imagined that my own champion would be more eager to greet The Eternal King over myself. You’ve become quite bold in these four months.”

His words were delivered without a hint of emotive inflection, but the lack of anger in his voice only served to strike terror into her heart. Her ashy skin somehow blanched further, and the woman struggled to form a coherent response.

“I- they…he-”

she stumbled over her words, her grip growing so tight that the leather of the tome began to groan under her bloodless fingers. Upon hearing the rustling of Veritas’s robe, she dipped her head and finally spit out three words:

“Eleanor needed him!”

More silence ensued.

When Enthy lifted her head, her god appeared stunned (which she could only tell due his eyes widening by an extra five millimeters from usual), and his right hand was held up as if he’d been attempting to reach out to her.

His hand slowly retreated back to his side. Then, he sighed.

“I was joking,”

he said.

“Yessirsorryforyellingsir- huh?”

When her mind finally caught up to the situation, it was her turn to be stunned into silence. This time, Veritas looked concerned (the inner tips of his brows moved three millimeters higher), and Enthy held back the urge to ask if that had been his attempt at lightening the mood.

“Umm,”

she said awkwardly,

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Oh, sorr- I mean, understood.”

As much as Enthy wished she could combust on the spot, the gods failed to answer her prayer and she could only do her best to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She just hoped that the other heroes were too caught up in their own reunions to pay attention to her awkward display.

Suddenly, she felt a hand upon her head. Before she could reach up to touch Veritas’s wrist, the god had already passed behind her and his physical manifestation dissipated into fragments of light. He’d fled, but the dragon laughed for the first time in months.

That brief touch had conveyed far more than any speech ever could have. It was rather ironic for a god presiding over truth to have so much trouble with words, but she appreciated his efforts even if they didn’t quite work out.

Conversely, the pessimist in her couldn’t help but wonder if the god had actually left because she smelled bad when she overheard Shiva scolding his pink devilspawn for the same reason.

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

Huang San

Huang San steps forward, with steady steps. Like the ticking of a clock, the ebb and flow of the tides, he moves like an inevitability to the Ruyi Jingu Bang. His hands grasp it, and they hold onto it tight, white-knuckled, gripping so hard he might well hurt himself. There's a flame in his eyes, raging and sputtering, before it turns to dull embers and coals after a moment. And then... And then there's a hand, pressed down on his head. The Monkey King manifests in his strange way, squatting on Huang San's broad shoulder, grinning at him, giving his Champion a noogie.

The Monkey King lowers his head down, defying physics with the way he perches, raising his strange black glasses to have a proper look. Huang San turns his head to look up, and they lock gazes. Wukong's grin touched with kindness against Huang San's grimace of bloody determination. Then Wukong flips his glasses backs down and chuckles, nodding in approval. The God gives his champion a thumbs up, and a big toothy grin.

"That's my boy. Not at all ready to quit, right? Gonna take a lot more than losing a friend for that. Or being put in a little cage. Nonono, you still got a lot to give out."

There isn't any answer from Huang San, except for a single nod, and the very slight movement of his shoulders relaxing, even if only a little. Sun Wukong pats his champion on the head a few times, before the palm becomes a fist and gives Huang San the most violent of noogies, the God's voice raising in a mischievous cackle. Some things didn't change at all.

"That said! You little shit, stop holding onto the Ruyi so tight! Bad form! You know better. Gotta be a little loose, so you can give it a good swing. You want to shatter Tiryas's skull, then you gotta be sure to do it proper. Son of a bitch deserves a big asswhooping. And you're gonna give it to him, aren't you."

The Monkey King leans in closer as he continues to speak, Huang San's hands following the God's advice. Huang San's thin smile that was not a smile, and the closing of his eyes, is all the God needs in reply. The King raises his head and whoops in a war-cry, clapping his hands together, practically dancing atop Huang San's shoulders and raising his hands into the air.

"WE'RE BACK, BABY!"

 

[You Know Rebel]

Mahina

Falling softly on the battlefield, his golden-brown hemp robe flowing like brushstrokes against the chaotic blaze, Mahina carefully maneuvered to hunt the demonic army's heads. When he found his targets, what was a human form would tear through the wind as he approached to snuff out the cores of their battalion. Without a weapon, his presence alone was enough to threaten the monstrous hordes. The opposition and their vanguards fighting the rest of the human forces were unprepared for the tree spirit's steady and impending arrival. When they suddenly found themselves pierced by his gnarled roots, the demons' bodies then turned into dried husks to pile the cratered roads. He performed his duties, quietly and earnestly, yet his focus would occasionally wander toward Arlux's dazzling clash against the abominable Demon Lord at the center. This time, he would not fall victim to a cruel fate. This time he would witness his cherished Arlux's brilliance with the rest of the humans. He and everyone else waited for his friend's victory.

Everything felt a little colder than he recalled of the seasons. His fatigue rapidly caught up to him when a sharp pang jabbed his heart. The flames of his eyes took in Tiryan's putrid soul, his manic raising of a decapitated wisp in the air, and refused. There was a sorrowful whimper, not again. Amidst his breath that lingered a fraction too long, he pushed down any thoughts of defeat. Those resplendent colors of his leader faded from the world, yet he continued to protect that naivety she given him. Rather he break before he would act in a manner that betrayed the efforts Arlux had paved for them. Devilish energy erupted and conjured a giant maw that swallowed the pests flocking him, leaving behind an empty area in the middle of the besieged city. He was unwilling to acknowledge her departure for naught. With a yell that ripped through him, he exploded once more in dire hope that the tide could still change where any of them would take back the scourge's head. Everyone was still fighting. He wanted to believe.

Huang San was still standing, bashing through the mounting swarm with his golden staff. Little Kai was always stronger willed than he let on, his healing power indispensable on this bloody day. Enthy didn't stop, sword remaining true to the justice she held to. She and Aaxir both, their draconic nature proved far stronger and persistent in Mahina's mind. If he could clear the way, his allies could reach Arlux and grant her peace. He knew Nel, that endearing nut, thrived at the peak of mayhem. Hers and Fel's magic, Kaida's spiritual onslaught, Khatiy's Usaamian army were still enough to greatly affect the battle. Korin and Eleanor wouldn't had given in that easily either when their bond with Arlux was supposed to be unbreakable. There was so much hope and potential in those people he trusted, that Mahina struck out even stronger against the endless waves, straining himself with his forced vigor. Hardlining toward Tiryan, he could still sense the squall that was Kaleo behind him along with Chrome's blood spells, rending through the enemies. Perhaps it was because they were similar, his connection with Tatag was more profound than the rest, their agitated state only hardening his resolve for retribution. At the height of the assaults, he found momentary comfort to converge with reliable Tiberius, until the latter was sent crashing out with the rest.

But Mahina would still fight on, as he listened to a clamoring turmoil of Tiryan's gleeful laughter and the wails of the even fiercer demons that awaited him, knowing his mana was going to burn out soon from overuse. Break than bend. He leveled more of the palace to rubble in his divine synchronization, cramming his way through the swarming dark creatures that clung relentlessly onto his overgrown body. No matter how much he devoured, twice as many filled their place until their accrued mass crushed him in place. And for once, Mahina wanted to redeem the tainted life he had when he failed to save someone beloved before. He pleaded through the fragments of his fractured body for strength, desperately grasping out. The heavens above did nothing. He promised to himself, however, not again. With a final burst of energy, Tiryan glanced at the shriveled, sylvan claw at his feet, and lifted the severed head of his spoils beyond its reach.

In the aftermath of that final battle, it was likely Mahina was the one suffering the least, spending most his time in torpor. His dreams remained sweet, visited by the memories and moments with people whom shaped him. His band of trusted companions was there. Arlux was still alive, as well as other characters from simpler days. When he stared at the reflection in the water, he remembered her. In fact, she appeared many times over to comfort, protect, and provide guidance for him, but this time, she stood silent. It could be for the best, for all he wanted now was rest. Even though he knew this feeling of peace was nothing more than a farce to distract himself from the pitiful reality, from the loneliness and hunger that plagued him, just as he knew that the battle had been lost the instance Arlux died. Were he awoke, he would only be able to perceive the waning spirits of his allies across the hall, exacerbating old trauma. Mahina didn't want to experience that kind of distance anymore.

The demon lord had shown some interest in Mahina outside his main intention of Arlux's band, but when he was unable to subjugate their will, he lost all further curiosity. Locking the latter in a solitary confinement, he had them fully chained and bound in magical restrictions. Those whose divine weapons were their own body belonged to the most bothersome group. Unlike many of the rest, Mahina was not fed, his treeborn body hollow and withered at the periphery, preserving only the heart within his trunk. Deprived from any contact or awareness, he could only wait for someone to open his eyes again, staying in his dreams like the deceased.

'It's not your time... let's go.'

'Let's go.'

'Idiot tree, let's goooo.'

"It's time to go." A voice in his ear, amongst the shattering of metal and sorcery, prompted his eyes to flicker weakly.

"Yi Nuo...Is everyone okay?" Mahina rasped before letting himself return to the darkness. A majority of his body disintegrated to dust as they freed him, but his vital essence was fortunately still intact, leaving him appearing like the round tree imp of his past. He didn't know how much he was jostled as the group made their way through the prison, but he could gradually sense his divine link reforming. As others began having heartfelt reunions with their patron gods, Ninki Nanka swiveled their scaley head out from the ground, signaling he would take over care of Mahina. Like a mother coiling her brood, or well a father, the serpent cradled him in their body. A long, forked tongue rhythmically patted the tree spirit's sleeping head. This too was a kind of heartfelt communication between a God and his champion.

 

[Bloody_Death]

KAI NAKAYAMA

There were definitely a few fellow heroes down for the count. But he was delighted to see that the majority seemed to be motivated enough by Yī Náo's rescue to will themselves up. He hoped that all of his comrades would be able to reach their prime once again. Maybe even growing stronger. Well...they would have to grow stronger if they wished to win.

He shook those thoughts out of his head when he heard Enthy's call. Turning his attention to the dried up ent on the ground. Four months without any sun or dirt or anything that plants typically need...he was still alive right!? "Of course, I'll help him." He reassured the dragon. Stepping back into the cell and approaching the dried up plant. Crouching down in front of him as he wondered how he was going to carry him. Fearing the other would wither away in his hands if he wasn't careful. He barely managed to catch the other's quiet whisper. Slowly shaking his head as he tried to talk with the other. "Tatag...it's Kai. Baba Yī Náo is here to take us home." He spoke back softly. But whether his words were heard or not were unknown.

Luckily someone had come to assist! He looked up at Khatiy when she approached to help. To which, he asked if he could help Tatag onto his back. That seemed the most stable way to carry him. Plus it would be easier on him with the limited energy he had. Once he had the Ent secured on his back he carefully made his way out the cell once again. Noticing the new face alongside Yī Náo. He offered them a small nod, but the mention of finding their items and weapons was much more appealing. He hasn't heard Wanga's voice in ages. It was...almost strange? Unsettling at first. Lonely the next. Before it seemed like he could never not hear his voice rambling in his head. He was quite the chatty god sometimes. Now that he was about to see him it made him realize how much he actually missed him.

As they began their journey to their items, he couldn't help but note the many bodies littering the ground and the foul stench of burning bodies. These two really went wild on these guys. As they reached the room, his eyes quickly searched for his weapon and necklace. Finding the two together safe and sound. He gave a sigh of relief. But before he could retrieve that, he made sure to set Tatag down in front of his weapon. Even plucking the sword and shield off the wall and setting it down in the other's arms. Unsure as to whether or not he could move enough to grab it on his own...but he was in a hurry to get his own stuff, so asking if he needed help had slipped his mind. "Call out if you need help, Tatag." Was all he said before breaking off to his own hook that held his things. His fan and necklace in the same condition as he remembered them from four months ago.

The brightest smile he's worn in ages graced his face when the necklace was put back onto his neck. Though he was slightly startled when Wanga suddenly appeared in front of him. And it seemed the deity was just as surprised momentarily. "Kai?" "Wanga..." The two stared at each other for a moment. As if unsure on how to greet each other after so long. Kai opened his mouth to greet his patron god, only to stop when said god spoke. "It really is you! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me. Bring any delicious treats with you?" The deity's voice was calm yet slightly playful. However, Kai did not look like he was having any of it. His expression deadpanning as he rolled his eyes.

"I was going to say I missed you. But I changed my mind. You can leave." Kai crossed his arms at Wanga before turning his head away. Causing the god to laugh and come over to comfort his champion. Draping an arm around his shoulder.

"Come on, you know I'm joking! I missed you. You missed me. Aren't you glad I'm safe and sound?"

"You? Last I remember, you weren't the one stuck in a stuffy cell for four months straight."

"...okay that's true. But come onnn, even paradise gets lonely without you around." This was usually how their conversations went. Wanga would go off on the most random of things and Kai would put him back on track. Though, Kai's eyes had softened when he heard that the other felt lonely without him.

"It felt weird not hearing your constant rambles fill up my head." Kai admitted sheepishly. "I missed you too, Wanga." A small hum could be heard as Kai's mood seemed to be the best it's been in a long time. Which did not go unnoticed by his guardian deity. Causing the god's smile to brighten considerably.

"Now that we know we both missed each other so much, I really am glad you're okay after our last meeting. Even the most proficient of healing magic cannot help a broken mind. You've always had a determined mind but I still couldn't help but worry." Four months after such a tragic defeat would be enough to break anyone's spirit. "I was prepared to let you go, should you choose to leave this responsibility behind. I wouldn't have held it against you. But the fire in your eyes remains as bright as it did four months ago. So I guess we're still stuck together." Wanga chuckled as he ruffled his champion's hair before giving a proper hug.

Kai returned the hug after trying to smooth out and stray hairs after such an attack. "You gave me the mission to rid the world of evil. Our goals are still the same and I intend to see it through to the end together with you."

"Oh how well said! You musicians always have a way with words. Next time you arrive at the garden, we'll have a welcome back celebration just for you."

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