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

[Bloody_Death]

KAI NAKAYAMA

They barely had a moment to collect their themselves when they got off the ship. There were sudden calls for Eleanor who seemed to be running off somewhere. He didn't quite catch what caused her to run off without anyone else. He got off towards the middle of the group. Just walking along with the crowd as they were funneled out of the ship. Though, it was anything but peaceful. Something felt oddly eerie here.

"There's something nasty here."

"Nasty-" Not even a moment later did Paimon's voice ring out through the area. Shouting to prepare themselves as the threat soon showed themselves. His eyes shot up at the green projectiles that were shot out. Soon grabbing his fan and readying himself. "Sora o Kiru" With a flick of his wrist, he shot out some wind blades to assist Kaida and her summon with dealing with the incoming projectiles before watching the remaining get blasted away by Aaxir. "Is that the nasty thing you were talking about about?" Kai mumbled, his attention turning to Eleanor who seemed to be incapacitate.

"Paimon always did have a lot of enemies. Why'd it have to be Nergal here though. He's called the plague king by the way." Quite literally the exact opposite of Wanga. Which was very concerning!! "Listen- Kai it's going to get really ugly with him here." Soon a scream would ring across the field. One coming from Tiberius who looked to be falling apart like a tender piece of chicken.

Kai was stunned for a moment. Whatever this god of plague did not only paralyzed Eleanor but was also causing Tiberius to literally rot. It was a horrifying sight. It was something he's never seen before. At least not at such an alarming speed. His attention soon went to Khatiy as she called out to him. Waving urgently for her to come over with the rotting man.

"Ah- wait before they get closer." This sickness was probably highly contagious. Wanga soon spawned beside Kai. Glancing around to make sure there was no one trying to surprise them before nodding. "Sorry in advance, Kai. Purify the soul!" Kai didn't even get a chance to question what the god meant as Wanga grabbed his wrist, pushed his sleeve up and then smacked against his forearm. Not lightly by the way!

"Ow! Wanga!?" The sting of the hit was only there for a moment. Soon replaced with a comfortable warmth as a sigil similar to the markings on Wanga himself appeared where he was hit him. Along with a soft golden glow.

"You'll be thanking me later! Nergal's plague spreads far too quickly and easily. That won't be enough to stop the spread, but it'll at least slow it down a lot so we'll have a chance to heal others before they start rotting. We don't need anyone else ending up like the gladiator."

"Jeez, a warning would of been nice." Nevertheless, Wanga really was the best when he actually tried, huh? Khatiy and Bastet soon arrived with Eleanor and Tiberius. With Tiberius looking worse by the second.

"Katty! A parting gift before you go!" Wanga wasn't rude enough to smack someone across the face, but it was a pretty forceful press against her face. The sigil on her cheek was definitely a choice though. "Don't get mad! That'll protect you from Nergal's attacks!" He quickly explained to try and keep her from getting upset at him. "As for the others..." It was too risky to try and go to the front to get them. "I'll heal these two, Kai. But before that, I need you to cast a widespread healing spell with me. You have that new spell down right? No time like the present to try it out!" They couldn't waste anymore time. It would take awhile to heal Tiberius and Eleanor. So, preparations to counter Nergal's plague had to be done now!

"Cleanse the nasties." He placed both his hands on the ground transferring the gold glow from his hands into the ground. And soon a large sigil would etch itself into the ground. Matching the ones now on Kai and Khatiy. It extended past Bastet's barrier, and while he couldn't cover the entire battlefield, he covered the general area where the heroes were fighting in. It won't be nearly as effective as placing a direct spell on them, but it would still slow the spread for anyone within the sigil's circle. "Okay! I leave the rest in your capable hands, assistant doctor, Kai and nurse Bastet. Let's try to keep the patients at a minimum." He quickly did 'purify the soul' on Eleanor and Tiberius to slow the spread further before pressing his hand on their stomachs and covering the two in a faint glow as he began healing them. First taking care of any wounds and rotten flesh to minimize pain before starting to clear out the actual disease. He was confident Bastet and Kai would protect him. So he kept his focus on healing these two completely. "Bastet, if either of them look like they're about to start vomiting, I'm going to need you to help me turn them over." He mumbled. Eyes never leaving the both of them as they spoke.

With Bastet and Wanga tending to Eleanor and Tiberius, it was left to Kai to ensure that others don't end up in a similar dire situation. Wanga was a phenomenal healer! But he never liked doing too much work. "Iyashino kūki." In theory and in practice. This does work. But he had never got a chance to use it with this many people and in battle. He held out his hand as a large orb of water began to grow. And once it was big enough he covered his fan with wind magic and sliced the water orb. Causing it to fall to the ground and explode into a thin layer of mist that quickly spread around. The mist was faint and stayed low to the ground as it spread throughout the area. It wouldn't obstruct the vision of others and might even go unnoticed by those not paying attention. It spread to just about the range of Wanga's circle. Allowing for those to in range to have both a resistance to the plague and passive healing. The mist worked as both a healing spell and a marker. As the mist becomes a bit thicker around those with more serious injuries or ailments. Allowed for Kai to spot those who may require more attention easily.

---

Interactions: Kibaa (Bastet and Khatiy) | Worthlessplebian (Tiberius) | Nessi (Eleanor)

Mentions: Probably everyone

 

[Beann]

Suzuki Kaida

The archer's arrows were true, whistling through the air and colliding against Nergal’s attacks, leaving plumes of dark green residue to drift upwards towards the atmosphere. Although she was very skilled with her bow, Aurelia wasn't afforded the time to intercept them all as stray projectiles pierced through the battlefield and against the other heroes’ various defenses. At the very least, it seemed everyone was fortunate enough to avoid the plague god's volley —

A terrible scream ripped through the air, demanding the attention of those around. Kaida whipped her head in the direction of the distressed call and her heart immediately plummeted at the sight of a familiar set of armor. “Tib–?” The arrival of Polux shielded the sight of the fallen gladiator, prompting her to turn her body and take a small step towards them.

And then another step.

And then another.

Only when Polux scooped Tiberius in his arms and moved at an incredible speed further away did her own legs react. She chased after him, the environment around her blurred as her vision remained fixated on the armored titan. He had laid the gladiator's weakened body for Kai and his god to tend to, prompting the kitsune to sheathe her blade and force her legs to carry her faster. Her muscles screamed in pain at the overexertion but complied with the demands as Kaida sprinted past Khatiy’s deity and threw herself onto her knees in a sliding halt beside Tiberius.

“Tiberius–!” She managed to choke out, breathing heavily from exhaustion and panic. Her hands hovered over him, shaking uncontrollably, unsure if it was wise to touch him despite Wanga’s precautions. Feral eyes darted from his wounds to the deity's hand pressed on his stomach. What could she even do?

“C-Can’t you work faster?! Heal him NOW!”

“Insolent child! You will not speak that way to any god!”

The kitsune's ears flattened at the scolding she was given telepathically, tears welling in her eyes. Rather than apologize, she averted her gaze away from Wanga, her focus shifting to someone more important. Unsteady hands moved to the gladiator's helmet, removing it as gently as possible and placing it beside her. Kaida looked at his expression briefly before immediately grabbing his shoulders and rolling him to Wanga's side to not disrupt the god's work. Her hand firmly grasped Tiberius’ jaw, assisting with opening the airway and expelling the vomit.

“You're okay…” Her other hand moved to caress the back of his neck. “You're okay…” She repeated softly, trying to comfort him and herself with her own words.

 

[Midrick]

Arrian Dreagher

Despite his promises of taking the group pub hopping, The government of the islses would have other idea's. The rapidly worsening plague had seen strict curfew's put in place to hopefully limit the spread of spread of whatever insidious malaise had gripped the isles. Grumbling to himself as he sat on the deck of Carmens airship with his back to the gunwale, silently obeserving the various heroes preparing themselves with whatever time they had left during the voyage to the well. Despite his previously agitated state, the melody of Carmen's music calmed his tempestuous mood, and Arrian cast his gaze upwards, watching the pre-dawn darkness of the early morning sky shift from the deepest of blues to warm pink, before the sun began to crest the horizon and flooded the sky with blood red and orange brilliance. Despite his rather uncouth nature, even one as unsophisticated as Arrian could appreciate the beauty of a sunrise over the aquamarine water of the sea that divided the islands, a content sigh leaving his nostrils as he subsequently took in a lung full of the salt laced air of ocean, feeling reinvigorated for the coming trial that involved journeying to the well proper.

After disembarking from the airship, Arrian was struck by the architecture of the well temple itself, the alabaster marble was as if it had simply grown from the sea itself, such was the quality of the craftsmanship of the well. Despite the warnings from Yi Nuo, the walk up into the zone was uneventful, it seemed that they were the only ones present on the small island, a thought that put Arrian on edge. He wasn't there when they heroes originally secured relics from the well, but he had heard that there were a myriad of fantastical beasts and monster in its vicinity. Something felt very wrong to Arrian, but he kept his thoughts to himself, tightening his grip on the handle of his sword, preparing himself should anything attempt to surprise him and the group.

if Arrian thought the exterior of the well was impressive, the interior took his breath away. "Whoah..." he said with a sigh, taking in the sight of the well proper. motes of light and faerie fire hung in the air, enveloping the cavernous space in a soft, nebulous, glow. It was as if one stepped from the earth to the sky amongst the stars as he craned his neck in an attempt to find the ceiling of the well, a soft breeze from somewhere deep within the well caressed his skin, and tussled the dark mane of his hair softly. Arrian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the air here tasted different, still carrying the pure and untainted notes from above, but there was something akin to ozone hiding just below the surface, like an electric charge building into a lightning strike, the air around the fall was practically suffused with enough mana to cast even the most taxing and complicated spells with ease. "I'm still a bit new to this whole 'god' thing, but things like this still manage to wow me, all things considered..." Cu Chulainn said absentmindedly as he appeared suddenly next to Arrian, the god taking in the sights of the well proper. Both god and chosen hero were too wrapped up in their sightseeing to notice what should've been alarming at worst in the form of a child in the well, Arrian barely turned in time before Eleanor tore off after the mystery child. Arrian looked to Cu Chulainn while the god simply shrugged. Not a minute later the walls shook with the wrath of a god as Paimon roared, charging back towards the assembled mages and heroes. at the command to prepare Arrian drew his sword with enthusiam. "Finally! some excitement, lets get stuck in!" he roared in anticipation as he brought the blade in line with his body. Assuming a neutral stance with the blade hovering at a sixty degree angle, Arrian's enthiusiasm quickly died however as a form that radiated mallign power framed by crimson locks that promised naught but suffering sauntered into view. "What the hell is that?!" Arrian cried before a torrent of sickly green projectiles showered the party, and Arrian barely had time to throw himself behind the bastion of ice formed by Ro, landing in a sprawl as he scooted into the barrier, hugging it as if his life depended upon it. "Nergal... don't know much about 'im besides the fact that he's serious trouble. You need to be ectremely cautious Arri-" as Cu Chulainn attempted to coach his champion, Arrian had removed and primed his crossbow, leaning out from behind the wall and releasing a hail of fire towards Nergal. Unheeding of his patron's words. Trying to correct his aim to more effectively suppress the rival god, Arrian noticed the streak of emerald death rapidly approaching, and moved a second too late, the bolt gouging a superficial wound across Arrian's right cheekbone, just below the eye.


...

"-rian!"

"ARRIAN!" Pain blossomed across his senses like a field of wolfsbane, lighting every nerve on fire, and drawing a low groan out of Arrian. Cu Chulainn was violently shaking him by the shoulders, He could smell decay and rot, suddenly realizing it was his face where he had been grazed. A horrified, throaty groan that was slowly rising in pitch managed to escape him, but he managed to stifle it before it turned to full blown scream. Focusing instead on the slowly expanding patch of putrified flesh shedding pus and curdled, blackened blood. the stuff oozing from the cracked and necrotized skin that hadn't sloughed off completely. Stymieing his rising panic by screwing his eyes shut and forcing himself to breathe evenly, Arrian channeled his mana to counteract the effects of Nergal's foul magics. although it was much more difficult than the more mundane magic he was used to dealing with, Arrian managed to curtail the flesh-eating curse of Nergal, if only temporarily. "Why didn't you listen to me you foolish boy!" Cu Chulainn roared, his face a drawn into a mask of pure anger "Do you have any idea who we're dealing with?!" his patron berated him as he took stock of the situation, Arrian could see Aaxir and Pollux charging Nergal and keeping the plague god at bay. "I-I didn't th-" Arrian managed to stutter before his gaze landed upon Tiberius. The wounds his friend had sustained mirrored his own but to a much more severe degree, flesh and muscle boiling away to where his chest cavity and viscera was barely hidden from few. He saw Kai doing his damnedest to reverse whatever hellish curse had taken hold of Tibs while Kaida attempted to assist, barely keeping herself together. He saw Khatiy, Azeera, and Enthy holding back while Aaxir fought alone. A spark was lit deep within, and the raging inferno of his emotions only grew with time, a rapidly brightening glow began to emanate from the blood vessels within Arrian, no longer paying heed or acknowledging to anything beyond his inner monologue. gone was the fear and uncertainty, replaced by a rage that was quickly boiling over as indignation flooded his thoughts. What were the great heores of the age doing cowering before a single, diminished, god? were they themselves not gifted with the same power by arguably greater gods? only one thing could explain their hesitation, fear. "Cowards..." he growled through clenched teeth, Cu Chulainn had begun to emmit the same arterial glow as his champion, the temperature around the duo slowly rising. Arrian could feel his muscles bulge against his skin, threatening to burst through the outer layers of flesh as power flooded into him. He could not, WOULD not, suffer cowardice, from himself or others. Capiliries across the length of his bodiy burst as his hammering heart ruputured them from the pure force it was exerting, his form was now enlarging at an appreciably rate, Cu Chulainn disapperated, as series of cracks and pops of bones and muscles growing and rearranging themselves at an accelerated rate could be heard from the end of the wall in the space that Arrian had previously occupied. Arrian's teeth shattered under the pressure of his clenching jaws before reforming into iron spikes, but he couldn't feel it, the divine anger fueling his morbid transformation dulling every sense besides the ever growing furnace of contempt from within him. Skin blackening and hardening into a hide of thick, semi-molten iron, the formerly average frame of the young man from Breuci now towered at almost nine feet in height, crimson orbs of fire replacing his eyes, a helmet of ornate and savage ornamentation donned his brow, summoned from beyond the aether by divine magic. the manifestation of Cu Chulainn's legendary rage complete, the avatar of destruction blazed to life, a baleful red glow shining through where the skin of the avatar was thinnest, those closest to him would be hit with a blast of heat that was powerful enough to singe hair and prickle the skin.

Sparing one last glance at his companions, Arrian planted his feet on the stone of the floor and suddenly launched into the direction of Nergal, the stone cracking from the force that his divine form exerted on them as he charged. Smashing through Rohen's barrier, the smaller chunks of ice that made contact with Arrian's form immediately exploded into steam, flash boiled from the intense heat he was generating. Moving faster than was possible for something of such size, Arrian lowered his left shoulder and slammed the onyx form of pollux out of the way, a compulsion to take the most direct route to the object of his anger possible had infected his mind, no matter what was in his way. Unheeding of the geysers of flame and molten rock generated by Aaxir, Arrian's blade had also grown in size to match his greater proportion's and dimension's, the blade now almost obscenely titantic, but as he charged the entire length of the blade erupted into hellfire, burning almost as hot as Arrian was. "HE'S MINE!!!" the titan would cry in a savage and guttural voice that thundered across the cavern for all to hear as Arrian planted his feet and hefted the gargantuan sword overhead with both hands, transfering the built up momentum into a mighty overhead strike that could sunder mountains down to their roots, aimed at the crown of Nergal's head. At the last possible nano second before it would be impossible to avert the strike, the titan pivoted its left shoulder and stopped its forward momentum by sliding it's right foot at a forty five degree angle, corckscrewing its torso to add horizontal force to the horizontal slash that he had transfered his originial strike to in a feint that was almost imperceptively fast, unheeding of any collateral damage or plans previously drawn up. All that mattered was utterly anihilating the transgressor in front of Arrian's divine synchronization...

Interactions: Nessi Worthlessplebian (as Pollux) LazyDaze

Mentions: Worthlessplebian Zariel Beann Kibaa Nessi

 

[Steve Jobs]

Title of Song

Freyr Stormsurge

Mentions: Tiberus, Eleanor, Aaxir, Arrian, Khatiy, Kai, Nergal

The days leading to the group's journey were no different than the others save for gathering supplies and taking extra time to iron out the dents Tiberius' helm. It had sustained a fair bit of damage during his travels, no doubt exacerbated by the extra enemies they encountered on their way back to the Isles. Nonetheless, there was nothing that Freyr couldn't fix and nothing that Kagutuschi's hammer couldn't imbue upon it.

Without knowing the full extent of the disease, the god recommended a more broad approach. The heroes wouldn't be called for something that could be dissipated with rudimentary healing magic so it was fair to assume that standard armor would not do for a close range combatant such as him. He'd need a stronger barrier against the blight on the Isles.

It took only half a day before the Fae-Giant finished, sweat rolling down his furry brow before he set the armet down. From ash to silver, dented to smooth, and ordinary to enchanted. Though he could have settled with only repairing the metal portion of the armor, a thought occurred to him while sanding the edges away.

Upon first glance, Tiberius seemed to be a man of little flair but for a former gladiator, their helmet was their identity. It was how their audience knew them and the last thing that their opponents would ever see. For a foot soldier, restoring the comb and stamping their coat of arms would be enough but heroes deserved their own flair. Recalled the patterns on the human's pauldrons, Freyr grabbed a gold bar from his work station and gathered mana in his fingers. Slivers of gold left their home, gilding themselves along the embossed surfaces of the helm.

"A worthy helm for a worthy warrior," Kagutsuchi boomed in the back of Freyr's mind, "but be warned that your duty extends beyond crafting their arms."

---​

The journey to the Well of Origin was a peaceful one, marked little more than a send off from Yi Nuo and the polishing of Sumire's Will. Freyr didn't have much in the way of healing magic or salves, but the amount of mana he stockpiled in the dagger could stymie at least one death. Theoretically, it could heal a person of their symptoms but he had no way of testing whether or not it would act as a cure. He had no interest in running around and stabbing sick people to test the limits of his "weapon."

Instead, he sheathed Sumire's Will and followed the rest of the group off the ship with his gauntlets already equipped. Though the water walking spell prevented him from sinking, Freyr still moved with purpose. His shoulders tensed from the unfamiliarity of the area, eyes already darting about for signs for pestilence. He may not have been as old as some of the other members in their party, but he'd traveled enough to discern paranoia from wariness.

The young, brunette woman did not share his common sense.

"Eleanor, wait!"

"Eleanor!"

"Eleanor! Stop!"

In spite of everyone's pleas, she darted off with the speed of a general ready to lead her soldiers to death. While he loathed the idea of leaving a child behind, rescue was not merely a product of good will. It required knowledge of the area, the condition of the victim, and what dangers lay ahead of them.

"She is going to get herself killed."

he grumbled, reminded of a certain, headstrong woman he carried with him.

Still, Freyr ventured further into the mysterious space, only stopping once Paimon emerged with Eleanor in his arms.

“Everyone, prepare yourselves!”

"Come forth, my pretties!" cried Nergal, the god of plague. Far from the disease being part of his nature, his voice dripped with cruelty as green blights formed in the air.

Godhood be damned. He deserved to be scorched from this Earth.

Mana coalesced in Freyr's gloves, eyes barely catching the blights before he fled from any projects not yet neutralized by his allies. He needed a plan, they needed a plan before moving forward.

"Tiberus you absolute fool!"

Freyr cursed,

"Do none of you understand restraint?"

They clearly learned nothing from Eleanor nor their past encounters. He could only assume that the party survived through luck and godhood alone because very few of their lot were putting thought in their actions. He reached for Sumire's Will, ready to launch it at the former gladiator until he heard another boy charge into the fray.

Luck, it was luck and sheer force of willpower. Freyr let go of the dagger, instead keeping an eye on Nergal and the now-transformed Arrian. With Kai and Khatiy sequestered to healing their fallen companions, there was a good chance he'd need to cover the next person struck by the plague god.

 

[Dawnsx]

Nelumba

Interactions: CasualTea

Mentions: Worthlessplebian Nessi

If the stinkiest fae around this part of town was Nel (in Shiva’s opinion), then the stinkiest god must be Nergal!

Just by looking at the state of Eleanor’s body, Nel knew that getting hit by those booger-colored projectiles would be bad news! And she was sure that her flesh would melt off faster than everyone else’s! Nel forgoed the idea of creating her own shield (she’d always been better at making sharp, pointy stuff!) and ducked behind Rohen’s wall of ice instead. All the while, she nodded in approval.

“I taught you well, young grasshopper,” Nel said, stroking her invisible beard.

“Stop fooling around.”

Nel blinked at the ice in Shiva’s voice. Was Shiva angry? He was angry! Shiva didn’t get angry often. Annoyed? Yes. Exasperated? Yes. Disappointed? Yes. Usually all toward Nel! But anger was rare!

“You’ve got beef with Nergal!” Nel exclaimed.

Shiva somehow managed to convey “unimpressed” toward her epiphany without uttering a single word or showing his face.

“Any sane being would ‘have beef,’ as you say, with one who unjustly inflicts illness and death,” Shiva said flatly. “You hardly have a shred of sanity, but I would assume that the Champion of life and whatever should detest a god who causes such suffering.”

Nel gasped and shot up from her crouch, unheeding of the death-beam that narrowly whizzed past the top of her head.

“You’re right!” she cried out. “This is a job for the Champions!”

She scanned the battlefield; in the brief time that she spent talking to Shiva, several heroes were already engaging with Nergal, and Tibby had joined the ranks of casualties. Nel’s gut clenched painfully as her gaze landed on her friends’ gruesome, twisted flesh.

Whether it’d be Lycoris or her comrades, it seemed that death rarely came swiftly enough.

A while ago, Nel would think that a merciful deliverance would be the only option for her friends. But now, with the awesome powers bestowed by gods like Wanga and her very own Shiva, there was still hope! Heat kills germs, right?!

“Budget transformation time!” Nel shouted. With a quick flash of light, she took on her divine synchronization form with Shiva’s Trishula in hand.

With her hero buddies taking care of the projectiles and Nergal’s incoming attacks, she emerged from Rohen’s shield and danced the familiar steps of the Tandava. The fires of creation and destruction swirled around her, leaping higher and burning hotter with each second.

“Friendly fire incoming! Pun intended!” Nel called out. The flames shot out in all directions, gliding harmlessly over her allies and enveloping the fallen heroes. Another firestorm swept toward Nergal like a wave of searing antibacterial spray.

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

Interactions:

Mentions:

It was an odd sensation, being home. It wasn’t the first time he’d returned since the onset of the war, but it was never quite the same. Or perhaps it was he who was never quite the same. The buildings remained and the people persisted. The worn stone paths led to the same destinations. The marble walls gleamed in the light of the setting sun all the same, the exact shade of pink he’d dreamed of so frequently.

And yet he felt a stranger in a strange land.

After the heroes’ meeting with Chief Nohea – what an incredibly irritating man; Fel vastly preferred his predecessors – they once again went their separate ways. Moving almost on instinct, his feet traced the path that wound around the island and up into the academy, bringing him to a stop before the tall tower that housed a number of Leone's researchers. The weathered door seemed to tower above his form. Fel took a half-step back and turned his face up to the sky.

A large buzzard circled overhead, a tiny black speck against a blue backdrop.

He looked away and entered. There were stairs to the left, and he took them up to the third floor. Another left and a right brought him before a very familiar door. White oak painted an odd shade of blue. Amateurish, you could see the individual strokes running from top to bottom. He’d protested the color at the time, but in the decade since had grown accustomed to it. Better to endure the nauseating pigments than suffer the endless complaints he would’ve received for fixing it.

He should repaint it.

Fel reached into his cloak and withdrew a small bronze key. He inserted it into the lock and undid the seals binding the door shut. It swung open with a low creak and Fel stepped into his chambers.

It was just as it was the day he’d left it – only coated with a thick layer of dust. The room looked as if it hadn’t been disturbed in ages. It hadn’t, of course; he’d sealed it away the day he’d left for the war and during every subsequent visit to the Isles, he’d stayed with the other heroes at the guest quarters arranged by the chieftain. This was the first time a living being had entered his home in over four years.

Fel wasn’t sure what had driven himself to break his unspoken taboo this time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either.

Crossing to the opposite wall, he struggled for a moment to open the window. Finally it sprung free with a clatter and a gust of fresh air rushed in, casting up a cloud of debris as it disturbed the long-settled dust. Coughing, Fel drew his cloak around his face and swept the grime away through the window with another blast of wind.

Tossing his staff onto the nearby desk, he drew a chair close and sat down, facing the rest of the living room. The light of the setting sun cast deep shadows across every surface and crevice, a thousand faces all watching and waiting. They whispered terrible things, old things, words of cruelty and affection and hatred and kindness and the past. For a moment, he felt so weary, as if the past four years had suddenly settled about his shoulders and threatened to drag him down into the earth.

It was good to be home, he told himself. It was good to be home.

Fel rose from his seat, rolled up his sleeves, and set himself to cleaning.

​

---

“These chambers of yours are entirely too cramped. Why not move somewhere larger? There are certainly better accommodations you could’ve arranged even prior to becoming my hero.”

“Sentimentality, I suppose. This has been my home for… longer than I can remember. I grew attached.”

“Hm.”

“Besides, I spent most of my time in the facilities. More space would’ve just posed extra hassle in maintaining. There were only ever a few times that I… well, it hardly matters now, does it?”

“You should’ve stayed with your companions.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion on the matter.”

“...I only mean well, my champion.”

---

It was too late to be night but not early enough to be morning when Fel woke. Unsteadily, he clambered out of bed and moved to the window, nearly tripping twice in the dim moonlight. The aperture was still open and he pressed his head out through it, then emptied the contents of his stomach into the space below. He continued until his throat burned and there was nothing left in it, then continued to retch emptily a while longer.

When his heaving subsided, Fel pulled his head back into the room and crumpled to his knees. He remained there, leaned against the wall as if in some mockery of prayer, for a while longer. His head throbbed painfully, like a dark brand bore through his skull and seared into the center of his brain. Cold sweat dragged icy corpse fingers down his spine.

Finally, he collected his wits, gathered his things, and left his rooms. Sealing the door behind him again, Fel made his way back down into the accommodations arranged by Chief Nohea. The sun’s first rays were beginning to shine over the horizon when he collapsed into his new bed – all soft down and plush layers – and immediately fell asleep.

Over the next few days, he slept and ate fitfully, instead choosing to split his time between his room and the academy libraries. He threw himself once more into his practice, keenly feeling his deficiencies in the previous battles. Oddly enough, Ayao had little to say of his dereliction of both his physical health and training – or rather, she had much to say but did little about it. It seemed even she could sense Fel’s troubling state of mind would be unreceptive to her interference. He almost appreciated it.

There were two major areas the mage decided to improve upon. The first was, of course, his lightning magic. Among the most useful of his combat skills, it was also one of the least refined. The heroes’ clash against the knight had shown as much. It was a disgrace that he’d been usurped so blatantly, and Fel resolved to expand his repertoire threefold by the time they left for the Well. This much was simple; there was an abundance of resources to consult at Leone, and the magic came naturally to him.

The second aspect was the more difficult. Fel was, at his core, a researcher. His original expertise in magic extended so far as he saw appropriate in aiding his work. One of the fields he’d never so much as considered before was healing magic. Prior to the war, he’d had no intention of becoming a healer or serving in any medical capacities. During the early years of the war, there had been little time to learn any. The party was stretched thin, too few heroes trying to fight on too many fronts with too many casualties. Later on, as they’d found their footing and began to gain ground in the war, it was unnecessary. There was an abundance of healing magic already, and Fel’s value lay largely in his destructive capabilities. This was no longer true.

Kai was the last of the party’s capable healers – alongside Aaxir, though Fel hesitated to ever attach that label to the scaly, overgrown child – and the fiasco in Hofn demonstrated how overtaxed he could become. That the fate of the entire party rested on his shoulders was not something Fel approved of. When the young man died – and at this rate, it truly was a question of when and not if – that would very likely spell doom for them all. Fel wasn’t quite sure when he’d come to rely on his blessed healing so heavily, but he was determined to regain some independence.

Healing magic was a bit of an oddity to the sun elf. All traditional forms of magic shared the same basis, but he’d grown so used to creation and destruction that reconstruction seemed almost an alien concept. Too gentle, too kind for his liking.

Soon enough, as the sickness infecting the island grew worse and the people were placed under curfew, Fel was relegated entirely to the confines of his bedroom. The privacy of his chambers suited him better, he decided; every time he ventured out, gaggles of students stared and whispered wherever he went. It took tremendous strength of will to not set their shoes ablaze and watch them flee.

​

---

“The hour grows late and you haven’t eaten yet, Fel. This grows unhealthy.”

“I said I would the last time you bothered me, didn’t I? Besides, this is urgent. I need to get as much use out of these records as I can. This blasted curfew has been getting in the way.”

“It has been four hours since then, and you said as much yesterday as well. I do not appreciate being lied to.”

“And I don’t appreciate being interrupted when I’m busy.”

“You will not take that tone with me, do you understand?”

“...”

“Fine, do as you please. You will come to your senses sooner or later.”

---

The journey to the Well of Origin passed with surprisingly little to note. Oddly enough, there wasn’t even a single close encounter with one of the terrible creatures haunting the cursed islands, leaving Fel to pass the flight by leafing through one of the tomes he’d slipped out of the academy records. That did not bode well. If there was anything Fel learned about the party over their years together, it is that they were a magnet for trouble.

Not one of their plans ever concluded without disturbance, so to have traveled so far without even the slightest headwind to hamper them prickled at every one of his superstitious senses. Fel clutched tightly at his staff. Yes, there was something foul brewing.

For a moment, his unease was forgotten as the well came into sight. A magnificent ivory monument on a sea of liquid aquamarine, the ancient structure was among the most beautiful he’d ever seen. So little was known about a place of such incredible value; truly a tragedy.

A brief burst of magic carried Fel gently down into the lower ring of the well, where he paused to luxuriate in their surroundings. There was an energy in the air, almost magic given physical form. Individual relics were often powerful enough to be sensed – but compared to the birthplace of them all, they were but the faintest of stars against the full brilliance of the noonday sun. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sunlight, the salty sharpness of the breeze, the crying of the sea breeze. For a moment, it seemed as if everything in the world was just right.

This was where he was meant to be.

“Everyone, prepare yourselves!”

And then that illusion was broken, dragging Fel harshly back into the unwelcoming arms of reality. He took up his staff, taking a moment to recognize Paimon carrying a limp Eleanor – when had she wandered off? Didn’t the fool of a girl know better than to go off on her own in such dangerous lands? – and the sudden appearance of… who-?

“Nergal.”

Fel’s blood froze. The god of plague was among the most infamous of Veita’s deities, feared for his strength, his wickedness, and, above all else, the indiscriminate death and destruction he sowed in his path. The sickness, the plague across the Isles – was it his doing? But why, why here, why now? Why, of all things, did a god need to descend to sabotage their efforts, as if the might of the Crimson King wasn’t enough to contend with?

Everything immediately began to fall apart. Tiberius was the first, caught in the throws of a sickening flesh-rot. That was unfortunate, not just because it temporarily eliminated one of their most powerful fighters, but also because it seemed that was the straw that set off an entire chain of disasters. Aaxir dashed in with a pointed look with Arrian on his heels. More imbeciles, the pair of them both. Gods, why was it always those meatheads causing trouble? He eyes fell back on Tiberius's writhing form. Fel shivered.

A firm hand gripped his chin and dragged his face away from the gruesome sight. A pair of dark, steely eyes met his own.

“Ignore them. Ignore all of it. I don’t know what specter has been haunting you recently, but this is not the time to lose focus. You will all die.”

Fel closed his eyes. There was more noise, more fighting and voices sounding, but he shut them all out. There existed only himself – and his magic. He sought it out, guided it and shaped it, letting it flow freely until every fiber of his being sang in unison.

“And the nature of fire is to guide. The shine of a beacon in the darkness illuminates the most twisted of paths. The longest of nights shall come to an end, pierced by the inexhaustible brilliance of the morning sun. As it always has been, and as it always shall be. The Herald of Dawn.”

He opened his eyes. In the air above him bloomed a small ball of fire. A pale shade of blue and only the size of his fist, it was almost underwhelming. And then it doubled in size. And then it did so again. And again. And again and again and again until it ballooned larger than even Chrome or Pollux. And, suddenly, it grew brighter. Fel gasped silently as a rush of vitality filled his body. His mana surged, like some internal dam had finally shattered.. It was a heady strength that permeated his body down to the bones. Power. Ecstasy. Perfection. Yes, this would do very nicely.

With a silent motion, the flaming orb rose higher until it was suspended a few meters from the top of his head. The roiling flames shifted and stilled, then condensed, tightening and growing brighter and brighter until it shined as bright as the very sun itself. No, it was the sun, shining so brilliantly it bleached the color from the environment entirely. The heat scorched even Fel, radiating out with an intensity unbearable to anyone else. The water below bubbled and steamed, casting up great clouds of vapor around him. This was strength.

“Fel, that’s enough.”

And it wasn’t enough. He fed the great sphere more and more mana, feeling as if there was no end to its hunger. By now the radiance was beyond blindingly bright – it was all but impossible to look directly at Fel. His hands trembled with the effort, hardly able to contain the sheer destructive power within its bounds. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t enough.

“Fel!”

And then it was enough and he unleashed it. The surface of the sphere bubbled before loosening two dozen beams of waist-thick fire across the pool in Nergal’s direction. They scythed paths of destruction through the water, casting up thick clouds of steam and melted down the stone flooring below to glowing magma. The earth quaked as the released energy raked over the area, forcing its way into the land and tearing it apart with a reckless abandon.

 

[DSLIX]

Chrome Van Der Linde

Nessi

Chrome spent all of his free time in the Isles reading and studying. His interaction with Azaera earlier leaving him in a somewhat flustered state as he could see straight through Azaera's lies even without the help of hearing stuttering heart beat as she lies. He merely smirks at waves her off as she departs before sighing deeply to himself "Well I guess I'm still the weirdo of the crew.......agh why do I always embarrass myself like this." Chrome palms his face and grips his cheekbones tightly with slight frustration. He then takes a deep breath and feels a wave of calmness and focus overcome him before he's soaked back into the books he had at hand. As the days went by though Chrome eventually had to leave the library as it was being closed due to the rapid spread of sickness going around. Chrome was concerned for the people of the Isles but had no way of really knowing on how to fight an unknown sickness so he merely helped with what he knew and kept his distance other than that. For the first time in awhile, Hanuman actually decided to have conversation with Chrome without belittling him. Doing things like simply asking him about his plans for today, Providing insight during meditation and his research, and even appearing before him once to enjoy the quiet night sky over the Isles as Chrome casually sits atop of a tall building with a great view of the city. "Despite all this beauty there's underlying stench of rot nearby. Be careful child, a nasty foe is closer than you think.“ Hanuman sat beside Chrome with a heavy sigh the giant monkey man seeming rather friendly compare to his usual prideful and scornful manner. For the next hour or so they sat in silence before Chrome simply stood up saying “Well I guess we should be prepare a little more now.“



Eventually the time to go to the Isles comes and Chrome finds a few books to take with him on the ship to past time. He took shelter in a empty closet room near the bottom of the ship so the others couldn’t disturb him. Another thing Chrome needs to investigate is the skill gem he pulls out of his pocket that smells and even emits a mana that resembles Parzivals. Eleanor had shown it to the group before hand and he had took it quickly wondering why it appeared and what it could possibly hold. Hanuman voice echoed in his head “Seems like you got a piece of his essence. How strange a vampire not even that old dropping an essence. Regardless, crush this stone to absorb his essence and well….best experience it yourself.“ Chrome stayed quiet as he eyed the gem. The rage from even thinking of Parzival still present in his heart. He then focuses his mind to prepare for whatever may happen before immediately crushing the stone in his hand with a simple squeeze. In a blink Chrome found himself in complete darkness. Floating around aimlessly in a void until a blinding light appears and…….Chrome finds himself being awoken by an unfamiliar man while he seems to be resting on a nearby tree. He looks around before noticing he’s…..shorter? “What type of vampire are you anyways? Lounging in the sun like a human…..get up!“ Chrome jumps to looks over to the unfamiliar man after getting kicked in the back and before he could respond his mouth moved on its own. A voice he recognized came out and it made him freeze up “Hey! What was that for man?!“ Chrome was stuck in Parzival’s memories. Chrome was pulled through a countless number of memories throughout Parzival’s life that slowly brought Chrome to an understanding about vampires as well as Parzival and his reasons for his actions. Chrome even got to see the original Crimson King in person and it terrified him as the Crimson King’s aura reminded him of his own beast inside. Is this the fate that await those that succumb to the beast? To become a walking calamity only interested in making rivers of blood. Chrome soon finds himself back in the void but now he’s sitting across a familiar face which simply says “So now that you’ve invaded my mind and all anything else you plan to take?“ Chrome stared at Parzival with a hardened gaze before it softened and he merely replies with “If you weren’t so angry then we could’ve probably been friends. People like us don’t do well when we’re alone.“ Parzival scoffed at his words “Just because you’ve relived my pain doesn’t mean you understand it.“ Chrome just smirks at Parzival and says smugly “Maybe? I understand your motives though and your goal. To be honest, I don’t hate you at all anymore Parzival. You were a hero until you made the choice to join Tiryan to build that world you wanted.“ Parzival stood and glared at Chrome saying “I refuse to let a kid half my age criticize my choices. What do you know other than what you’ve seen. You don’t know what I’ve sacri-“ Chrome stands and stops Parzival mid-sentence “Everything right? You put in everything into everyone you ever cared for and you still lost them. Sadly that is the truth for most of our kind. I hate this truth and that’s why I’ll change it.” Chrome stares into Parzival’s harsh gaze with a warm one of his own before sticking his hand out to shake. Parzival glares at Chrome for a minute before scoffing and roughly grabbing his arm to shake “Not like I have a choice but to believe now so don’t fuck it off, or I’ll really kill you this time.” Chrome feels his brow furrow in anger at Parzival’s jab but merely smirks back with a slightly aggravated smile saying “Can’t fuck it up anymore than you now can I? Now shut up and watch me save our race……..Oh and rest in peace.“ Chrome firmly grips Parzival’s arm and they exchange acknowledging smiles before Parzival slowly fades into nothingness and Chrome gets yanked out of his deep trance.



Chrome awakens with a deep gasp and a startled expression before catching a random slap from Hanuman that knocks him over. He stands up with an annoyed expression but Hanuman beats him to the first word “Everyone has left already we need to leave that putrid smell is here and so is our next enemy.” Soon as Hanuman finishes speaking he hears a commotion of people yelling outside before the ship rumbles slightly. He saves his words for later and merely rushes his way out the ship and leaps off the boat. He spreads his wings and with one good flap he soars towards the party making it in no time. Though coming back to the chaos unfolding at all was a little overbearing at first. Fatal injuries, enraged teammates, seems like everything was falling apart, and all hope would soon be lost. Not for Chrome though as with his new resolve to usher in a new era for his people there he refused to die. So Chrome does what he does best and goes to defend his allies. He flies in behind Arrian a small orb of slowly forming and compacting into a dense orb of blood before mumbling “Bang…Bang….Bang.“ He fires three orbs back to back and they zip through the air with the speed of a bullet. Chrome causes the three orbs to disperse and intercept Nergal’s ranged attacks focused at Arrian, Aaxir, and Polux destroying the projectiles by causing the blood orbs to turn to iron before they collide into them. Doing his best to give a clear path to for his allies. Chrome doesn’t hesitate to protect himself by layering his body in armor his old scab armor now replaced with solid iron and Hanuman grunts approvingly “You should be fine as long as his attacks doesn’t break skin.“ Chrome casually strolls up beside Arrian fully armored and gives him a casual pat on the back “Be careful now brother we can’t destroy the temple. Let me help you with this one.“ Chrome then has his armored arm form into a bladed whip.

 

[Nessi]

Lichdragon Fortissax

Plague

“Yes…come forth mortals! Come, and taste despair!” Nergal howled as he watched student and hero alike crumble after getting merely grazed by his projectiles. The plague god gracefully landed on the floor, and was immediately met with fire that sparkled like the night sky above. “Oh dear Polux, is the mistress of night tru-”
Polux’s maul forced Nergal to lean back and dodge, just far enough to avoid the physical impact, but not enough to avoid the fire. The flames scorched the plague gods arms, but judging from the consistent smirk on his face, the attack had little effect on him.

“My turn.”

Nergal quickly smashed his mace into Polux’s head, sending him face first into the ground. Long, pale fingers grabbed unto the iron giant, and lifted him as if he weighed next to nothing.
Using Polux as a shield, Nergal blocked Aaxir’s reckless attack, before tossing him aside to deal with the red dragon. However, he’d be distracted by yet another challenger, this time what looked to be a demon straight from hell. “Come one, come all!” Nergal laughed as he brought his blade up to defend himself. To his surprise, the demon would change the direction of the blade entirely, going from the head, all the way down to the torso, at speeds that not even he could keep up with.

But it didn’t matter.

Arrian’s blade would connect with Nergal, but it wouldn’t go any deeper than an inch into his body.
“Did you truly think that a primitive weapon like that could cleave me in two?” Nergal giggled.
Arrian was sent sliding backwards with a single punch, and the laughter of the plague god only grew louder, even when consumed by the destructive flames of shiva. Flesh burned, and regenerated at the same time, to the point where it looked as if Nergal regenerated faster than Nel could burn him, and by the time the flames cleared, he emerged relatively unscathed.

But the fire was far from over, in fact, it had only just begun, for as soon as Nel’s flames died, Fel’s beams of fire rained down upon Nergal, who was merely wide eyed at the display of power before him.

When the dust settled, Nergal’s body was filled with holes, but still, the plague god laughed. “What a display of power!” he laughed. Like clockwork, the wounds across Nergal’s body began to heal rapidly, until he was back to full health.
“You’ve never been able to heal like that, Nergal.” Paimon spat, walking towards the plague god with no fear.
“Quite the observation, your majesty!” Nergal chuckled, retrieving what looked to be a bird cage that was attached to his waist. “You see, after I escaped my little prison, I had to devise a plan, one to get what lies within you. But I knew fighting a bunch of special mortals would be hard! So I decided to enlist the help of the great phoenix herself!” Nergal laughed. “I clipped her wings, and put her in this little cage! Where she’s forced to heal me! Isn’t it so wonderful, I really a-”

Paimon brought a golden fist down upon Nergal, attempting to destroy the cage while the plague god was distracted.
Unfortunately, Nergal blocked his attack, and leapt backwards to create space between himself, and Paimon.
“Listen up…The enemy that stands before you is much more powerful than any enemy you’ve witnessed before. Now is not the time to hold back, it is times like these that you must fight with everything you’ve got!” Paimon yelled out, his golden blade raised up high for all to see.

“Yes, King Paimon is quite right.” Nergal spat. “You mortals should fight with everything you have, struggle as much as you can. Because once you realize how futile your efforts are, only then will you taste true despair.” he announced, raising his arms high into the sky. Nergal opened his mouth wide, and Locust began to pour out of the plague god’s mouth in droves. Instead of focusing the heroes, they focused on summons, swarming them and rapidly draining their mana.

“Enough!” Paimon yelled. The eternal king rushed through the swarm, and delivered an uppercut that cut off the flow of Locust.
Nergal barely recovered from the first attack by the time he was slammed with a powerful kick to the head.
Paimon’s onslaught was unrelenting, each strike feeling stronger than the last. In an instant, the eternal king had forced Nergal on the defensive, creating an opening for the heroes to deal with the Locust, or assist Paimon.

 

[Dovinique]

Dong Mei

Chaos descended like a malevolent symphony…
Each note a scream of pain… each movement a dance of death…
The world seemed to slow… emphasizing the horror unfolding before Mei's eyes…

It began with a deadly rain of projectiles. Tiberius fell first, his once strong form crumbling like a marionette whose strings had been cut, then Arrian followed. But it wasn't just the heroes who suffered. The innocent souls of the university caught in the crossfire of this senseless violence, those who were not able to hide nor had a chance to escape. They fell too, their bodies wracked by the effects of the poisonous projectiles, their screams of anguish blended with the heroes' outcries of rage, creating a song of agony that bleed Mei's ears and tore her heart. Above it all, Nergal's laughter rang out, a chilling accompaniment to the chaos below. It echoed through the air, a cruel maestro guiding the whole orchestra.

Her once sharp focus fractured like delicate vases hurled to the ground, leaving Mei adrift in a sea of emptiness. Even as Khatiy bestowed Ruby with enchantments to fortify its armor, Mei remained silent. Her vibrant smile was gone. Where once she greeted friends with boundless energy, now even the simplest tasks felt insurmountable.

At that moment, Mei grasped the painful truth… she wasn't prepared. Not physically, nor mentally. The weight of her comrades' lives slipping away before her eyes was a burden too heavy to bear. She lacked the resilience to hold herself together amidst the chaos of battle, to maintain a facade of optimism when victory seemed an impossible dream. She wasn't ready, not by any measure. It dawned on her then, with bitter clarity, why Arlux had kept her from the final battle. She was a liability, a hindrance to their cause. The realization pierced her heart like a broken blade, tearing away the illusion of heroism she had clung to. She wasn't a hero, not now. She was simply unprepared, a fragile soul ill-suited for the trials that lay ahead.

As strength drained from her limbs, Mei sank to her knees, the weight of exhaustion pressing down upon her. The voices surrounding her dulled to a distant murmur, their urgency lost in the haze of her fading consciousness. Her vision blurred, trying to shield her from the gruesome around her. Each breath grew shallow, as if the very air conspired to abandon her in her moment of need. With every passing moment, Mei felt herself slipping further into the abyss of unconsciousness. Her eyelids grew heavy, each blink a struggle to maintain even the faintest grip on reality. It seemed as though the world itself was trying to drag her away.

Yet, just as she teetered on the brink of darkness, a figure materialized before her, a blurred silhouette against the chaos. With hair cascading like a waterfall of shadows, he stood tall and resolute. His touch was gentle yet firm as his fingers found purchase on Mei's trembling shoulder, coaxing her back from the brink. With his support, Mei found herself pulled back to her feet.

…Mei…
This soothing voice sounds familiar…

……..Mei…
Dong Lian…?

…Dong Mei!

Once Mei jolted back to consciousness, the voices around her surged back, flooding her senses. The air, once thin and suffocating, now filled her lungs, easing her gasping breaths into a semblance of normalcy. Though she still struggled for air, the dryness in her throat began to dissipate, replaced by a welcome rush of oxygen. Before her stood the figure she had glimpsed only once before, her savior who had answered her desperate plea in her darkest hour. It was him—the one who had deemed her worthy, who had chosen her to be his champion. Her God, Han Xiangzi.

The otherworldly beauty of Han Xiangzi's face remained unchanged from their first meeting, yet now it bore a troubled expression. His normally composed features were marred by a furrowed brow and eyes that flickered with a mix of anger and concern. Since their encounter beneath the tree, he had never appeared in person, but instead communicated with Mei through his voice. But on this chaotic battlefield, he had chosen to walk among the mortals, standing beside his chosen hero.

"Dong Mei, breathe…" his hands still gripping Mei's shoulders, as if he refused to let her slip away. Cupping her chin, he lifted her face until their eyes met, a gesture for her to focus. "I know time is short, but you must gather yourself."

Mei nodded, her breathing slowly steadying, her mind clearing of its tumult. A semblance of peace settled over her, even though it was just momentary. With effort, she found her voice. "You're here…," Han Xiangzi's smile was a flicker of reassurance as he brushed a speck of dirt from her bangs. "I am always here…," he then looked over her, scanning, to make sure she was okay, "You look better, sweet pie. Come on, we have much to do."

As Mei and Han Xiangzi readied themselves for action, their attention was abruptly drawn to the valiant efforts of the other heroes and Gods, who fought tirelessly to bring down Nergal. Their hopes surged as Fel unleashed a colossal fireball aimed at the plague god, a desperate attempt to end the madness engulfing them. But their optimism was short-lived.

Nergal rose once more, his laughter spreading maniacally across the battlefield. His body started to regenerate at an alarming rate. It was a spectacle that surpassed Mei's darkest imaginings—her first encounter with a God, a trial that exceeded every expectation. Despite the presence of the Gods by the heroes’ side, Mei couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of despair. With Phoenix stuck to Nergal’s side, their efforts seemed futile. Each blow they struck only served to exhaust them, while Nergal effortlessly restored himself to full strength in a matter of seconds.

With no time for strategic discussion, Nergal unleashed yet another assault. A swarm of locusts descended upon them, their target were not the heroes directly, but the summons, including Ruby who was already half way fading.

"Ah..." Mei's voice caught in her throat as she felt her strength ebbing away quickly. Her mana seemed to evaporate into the ether, drained by some unseen force. With a swift motion, Han Xiangzi flicked his hand to disperse Ruby entirely. In an instant, it vanished, leaving the locusts to swarm nothing but empty air, "The locusts... they're draining mana.”

Han Xiangzi's fingers snapped with practiced precision, a command coming from the sway of his fingers. Mei felt a tug at her belt, where her jade flute lay. It wriggled with a sense of urgency, eager to fulfill its master's bidding. With a smooth motion, it broke free and soared into Han Xiangzi's waiting hand.

"I'll borrow this for a moment," he said, his fingers moving deftly over the flute. It had been a long time since he had played, but his muscle memory took over, and a soft, soothing melody filled the air. With each note, red flowers bloomed, encircling Han Xiangzi in a swirling dance of petals.

"This will temporarily restore everyone's mana," he explained, plucking one of the flowers and handing it to Mei, "Use it to replenish your own. Then, I need you to cast the Melody Burst on Nergal. Let's see if it affects him.” With a gentle hand, he returned the jade flute to Mei, his eyes reflecting trust in her abilities. Though he could have taken matters into his own hands with greater certainty, he believed in Mei's potential. There was no room for failure in this dire moment, yet his faith in her remained unshakable.

With a quick nod, Mei took the jade flute, her confidence shining through as she closed her eyes. In that moment, she poured her heart and soul into the melody she was about to unleash. Every ounce of her being, every flicker of emotion, every strand of mana, was channeled into the intricate dance of her fingers across the instrument. As the tune began to flow, Mei's body swayed in time with the music, her movements fluid and graceful. The melody, at first soft and delicate, gradually grew in intensity, its notes weaving a complex set of notes that seemed to fly playfully around her. To those who listened, it was an enchanting and whimsical melody, full of life and joy. But to Nergal, the target of her magic, it was a different story. To him, the melody was a chorus of torment, a piercing shriek that clawed at his senses with the intent to bleed his ears.

Interactions: Nergal Nessi
Mentions: Tiberius, Arrian, Khatiy, all heroes

 

[CasualTea]

Rohen Xiong, "The Mad Orca"

Interactions: Nobody Directly

Mentions: All Heroes + Nergal Nessi

All at once, chaos broke out. At the sight of an enemy, the party mobilized to defeat what was in front of them. Many used their fire attacks against the plague God and it inevitably started melting her ice wall. Many voices, her ears picked up. Especially those coming from her mentor Nel and the sultan Khatiy. As she used more mana to maintain her ice wall, its grew to a grinding halt and even began to recede. Thanks to Nergal's onslaught of projectiles that she was able to defend from and the flames her allies brought out, she had to double her efforts to keep it up for those who sought her protection out of instinct to be safe. The rather loud thuds of impact against her wall drowned out any communication that went her way, so it was only later when she realized the screams of pure agony.

As she turned around, shock was painted all over her face and a chill ran down her spine. As she witnessed those who were felled by the projectiles that were unleashed, she only then realized how they were laced with such a poison that it makes any disease she had witnessed thus far look like clown college. Their flesh actively rotting and melting off the bone, exposing internals they were supposed to keep intact and shielded from the outside world. Such wound would hold powerful effects even if grazed as shown by Arrian, the reaper, who also took solace behind her ice only to peak at a terrible time. Direct impact? Tiberius was used for reference, which made her stomach drop as she watched her more fond allies wither rapidly.

Her senses came back to her suddenly as she heard a particular sharp sound of impact against the area near her head. The next moment, a projectile came piercing through and Rohen moving her head to the side to dodge the projectile entirely. Her ice wall was failing thanks to the rising temperatures. She broke off from it and instead put up a terraformed wall of earth where her ice once stood. She looked around, everyone and everything was in a complete frenzy. While some kept their heads in check, others were reigned back by their deities and some too terrified to even move and couldn't comprehend the horrors in which they're facing in the here and now. Even the great Paimon, Eleanor's God, has seemed to lose his marbles. A good distraction. Was everyone always this emotional when fighting? Was she like this as well? She must be losing her touch since Arlux's death.

Get a level head, lock in, execute. With Nergal boasting about his only surefire defense from death, it's starting to get a little easy to take his confidence into account that he might just end up blinding himself. As she soon began to hear Mei's music, she was able to calm herself and start to take inventory of the battlefield. Four headstrong frontline assaults, two from above, one of them a sniper, three mages and a med-bay with ample protection behind them. All bases seemed to be covered. Just one thing that dawned on her.

That bird cage at Nergal's waist is what's halting their swift victory. The phoenix heals him and regenerates his lost tissue whether it wanted to or not. An attack formation is useless if no damage can be done. What's more, the locusts seem to feed off of the summons' mana. Dealing with those would surely by them time. She peaked around the wall and raised her left palm aiming it towards the swarm. "Incinerate: Reduce to ash and return to dust!" She incanted while releasing a stream of flames from her palm and at the locust swarm that hadn't gotten to any of her allies. She kept it up for awhile until it allowed the others some breathing room to work with. She retreated behind the wall before speaking another incantation but rather softly. "Concealment: Secret Tunnel." A large hole opened up in front of Rohen out of sight from the plague God. She jumped in, sinking into the Earth and sealing the hole shut.

A tunnel was slowly carved into a path to bring her bellow Nergal, carefully moving dirt aside and not altering the surface above. She controlled her breaths to conserve oxygen. Any water that leaked into her tunnel was moved to the side and the crack sealed shut and reinforce so no more water can get in. Based on vibrations, she positioned herself bellow the vicinity in which Nergal stood upon, waiting as she can hear the muffled sounds of battle through the dirt. She will wait either for an opportunity to steal Nergal's possession as he showed off his confidence to the world or drag him to his grave.

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

Interactions:
Mentions: Dovinique Nessi (Paimon)

"When I see you, I see someone who is going to die. When I see you…I am happy, because this is only the result of you opening your heart, but when I see you I am conflicted because you will die because of it. Many believe you to be a prideful mortal, carrying a rage so dense you could swallow a black hole. I know better. You are afraid. Fear fuels your desires and you are allowing instinct to consume you to run from it. You are stronger when you are afraid…when you face your fears, not when you run from them. That is why…….

…Throw yourself on Nergal’s altar for all I care. I will not stop you. I will not intervene. As your patron god it would be an insult not only to yourself, but to me as well to step in when it was I who chose you. It was I who acknowledged you as worthy to represent everything that I am. Besides, you stopped hearing my voice long ago. Foolishly…I believed that I would never have to experience this again. After Arlux died you blacked out. Charged head first into hordes of enemies ignoring friend and foe alike in order to reach Tiriyan. Even now…I find myself pondering on occasion if you were that confident, or if you simply wanted to die instead of living with the reality that she died while you were there. Does this mortal woman mean that much to you? I can’t help but ponder such things, I am a jealous Goddess after all. If only I meant that much, maybe you would think twice before laying your life down before the guillotine. Aaxir…you can’t hear me, regardless, I do want my request to be known. You can’t refute it, and I’ll never forgive you if you deny this one request. Please…just this once. I, Tutu Pele, the most benevolent, bountiful, beautiful goddess in the entire Pantheon…am begging you…




please





don’t die my champion"


**********​

At this point in the battle, Aaxir was operating primarily on instinct, having nearly lost himself entirely. What would be left if this continued? He had to kill him. He had to be the one to kill him. Frustrated grunts from his failed attacks, widened darting eyes shifting to anything that moved, every inch of his body spoke without him uttering a word. He didn’t want to think.

What if….​

and it would go no further than that. Nergal locked eyes with him. Even in his current state, Aaxir could feel the chill of death creeping up his spine; however, Nergal’s attention would be ripped away by the other heroes until eventually hell would rain down on them both. The battlefield quickly became a sea of burning light as if it was a drop of heaven descending upon the earth to bathe the sinners and expel their demons. Out of the ashes Nergal would laugh unscathed by the might of champion. Out of the ashes, Aaxir would silently rise from a kneeling position, his body speckled with green embers, charred scales, and dark wisps of smoke emanating from his body. There was but one focus, killing Nergal. If he had to kill him 1000 times over he would. If this was hell and he had to battle him for eternity, he would. Now was his chance, Paimon created an opening in this indomitable embodiment of petulance. Aaxir, rushed toward a blind spot with his Obsidian Slab in hand raised over his head as if he were a reaper coming to collect the soul of a god. The blast from Fel, his own catastrophic magma, and any destruction he could culminate...Aaxir collected it all and planned to release it indiscriminately, even if it meant he would get caught in the blast with no plan to outlive the Phoenix. That was, until a solitary note seeped through the void that was his conscious. Mei's song, a strong rebuttal to Nergal's chorus of destruction, seeped into Aaxir's heart just enough to create a moment of clarity. Every thought, every emotion, and every recent event flooded his soul at once, threatening to overwhelm him to the point even the hardened dragon's glass eyes threatened to shatter. No, he would never hear Her prayer, but he could feel every word. At the last second, Aaxir changed his mind, choosing to hold off on his catastrophic attack and swing his blade diagonally through the center of Nergal hoping to cleave him in two. He had to reign himself in and coordinate with the others if they were to win. If they were to protect everyone. The embers of his anger and fear were still there threatening to expand into a burning maelstrom, however, Aaxir would do his best to fight on two fronts, Nergal and himself.

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

Interactions: Nergal Nessi

Mentions: Aaxir LazyDaze Mei Dovinique

Fire. The ground below was awash in a sea of flames, consuming the fetid vessel of the god of pestilence. Violently—mercilessly—tossing Nergal about in his own personal crematorium until Enthy could smell the bone ash crumbling away from burnt flesh. Nary a scream escaped from the god’s mouth, nor did an iota of concern ever seem to cross his twisted visage, instead embracing the display of power as if reveling within such an onslaught were a favorite pastime of his. There he stood, entirely unphased by the attacks of the heroes. By his waist, he suppressed his prisoner within a golden birdcage, taunting the heroes as he perverted the powers of a deity who had once stood by their side as an ally.

Enthy held her breath, willing away the painful thrum of hot blood rushing past her eardrums that threatened to force the spell prepared within her hand to fizzle away into a harmless spark. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, not by Nergal’s perverse glee or by the locusts that had begun to swarm the summons in droves.

A familiar melody from below soothed the angry instincts threatening to cloud her actions, wrapping her within a balm for the soul which both invigorated her with the surging pulse of mana and pointed her focus back on the target at hand. Paimon pushed the plague god on the defensive, while Aaxir gave the animated corpse a mighty sweep of his blade. Taking the opportunity to push the initiative, Veritas struck out with his blade, swordtip extending past its normal reach and snaking past the red dragon and the Eternal King. As his sword aimed to bite into Nergal’s shoulder, golden chains would burst out from the earth below, reaching out to condemn the plaguebearer.

Only then did Enthy strike.

“Heed my call.”

For a brief moment, the dragon hesitated, questioning whether or not it was wise to utilize a recently learned spell that had never seen use in real combat. She knew her usual tricks wouldn’t work, and the bitter taste of repeated defeats had drilled in the fact that her careless manner of throwing out her magic and relying on the size of each beam would only hurt her in this battle. If things didn’t go as expected…

A breath. Then, Enthy raised the hand bearing the golden sphere high into the sky.

“Threads of the Flamebearer,”

she said softly but with determination holding her voice steady.

Slowly, tendrils of light eased their way out from the golden sphere, gradually coalescing into three concentrated beams of fire. They split away and began their descent, spiraling and picking up speed until the curve of their trajectory pointed their way toward the plaguebearer embroiled in conflict below. Though the heat radiating from each beam could be felt by all they passed by, the beams curved around those near Nergal, converging upon his side where the golden birdcage hung.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Polux, The Warden Of The Outer Night

There was a crack. Ear-splitting as Nergal's rot-lined mace crashed into Polux, the night-armoured titan was driven hard into the ground, helm split. The crimson-starred inferno of his eyes scorched and purified the disease-ridden dirt that Nergal plagued, his fists clenched with manic rage, but Polux's movements were arrested before they were made, as svelte, sick-slick fingers slithered over the dreadnought's gorget, lifting him as though he weighed as little as a black feather. His smouldering eyes, which did mirror the red stars in their feverish fury, fixed the Plague God's haughty features, even as the mystical projectiles impacted his back, their potency shattered against his mountainous back in bright flashes of light which threw his black armour in deeper shadows. His helm seals, metal screeches, mending shut. His brutal form is then tossed aside, sent across the field, skidding, crushing dirt and grass and stone in his wake. The Night's Warden did not hesitate, unburdened from mortal frailties, his limbs turned in a grating, rugged motion. His lower half rotate entirely, heels striking the ground, the titan rose, bending into an upright position. His torso spins, scraping like great glaciers of hard metal, and Polux sees the mad God again.

The wind screamed, leaved branches judder and creak, made mad by the divine and unholy, the very air itself electrified with Godly power. But as the mortal plains quaked with energies dragged up by the wills of those around, the dreaded heavens above would appear serene, tranquil. Dead. A sheet of pure, inky blackness dominated the sky above — a black, jagged maw didst devour all the twinkling stars, leaving only two to gleam in the hard darkness of the firmament above, too bright to be far-away moons, too wrathful to be burning stars. Suffusing the lands with their icy gaze, cutting deep to the bedrock below.

Then came the blazing sea; dozens upon dozens of beams surging forwards in violent tides, igniting ablaze all in their path. Their molten wrath slammed into Polux's dreadful bulk, fiery plumes lapped at his form, but the anger inside burned hotter than the flames without, but his wicked visage remained undisturbed in the swirling chaos of the Sun Elf's destruction magnificence. Awash as he was in the sea, the titan took steps, sabatons quaking the ground underfoot like he summoned thunderclaps with each step, swiveling slightly to see that Tiberius had indeed still been protected.

It ended, emerald lands made black and lifeless. But Nergal's vessel brushed away such a devastating display, his body already knitting itself anew. In his arrogance, his lips moved and revealed the source of his regenerative boon. From here, Polux could see the God's face, it had a leanness to it, so haughty and cruel, eyes alight with the delight of their plight.

He charged. In a moment, Polux's outline had been there and then gone in the silken folds of darkness, vanishing as if he never truly there. Seeing the opportunity wrought about by Lord Paimon's assault.

Silently, he struck out; wicked gauntlets going out to snatch Nergal, one at the back of his neck and the other at his head. Polux would try to flatten his skull, shatter his neck, but that had not been his goal — arrest his movements, let the rest, his friend's companions, deal the blows. For now, it was their turn.

Interactions: Nessi (Nergal, Paimon)
Mentions: Heroes.

 

[DSLIX]

Chrome Van Der Linde

Chrome merely moved out the way as Nergal started repelling most of his companions attacks, which causes him to notice the little to no physical damage Nergal was taking until hit by Fel's powerful fire magic and Nel's flames of destruction nearly burned Nergal into a pile of melting flesh. To no avail though, as Nergal seemed to regenerate the damage only a minute after receiving it. Chrome was quick to move to go over to Pollux position but merely smirked when seeing the iron giant disappear into darkness, he started now rushing towards Arran while also listening in between Paimon and Nergal. As Chrome rushes to get Arrian back up as well he hears about the phoenix Nergal is using to regenerate, and smirks as now Chrome already has his goal in mind. Chrome rushes over to Arrian quickly observing his friend for any wounds before smirking and saying "Nothing's gonna pierce that skin of his unless you use THAT spear. I don't suggest throwing it though unless he can't block it so let's see if you've been practicing the fundamentals solider." Chrome's iron armor melts down around him back into blood before forming into a sleek and long iron spear which he twirls in his hand to show off slightly before before noticing the large swarm of locusts swarming the backline support summons. He scoffed and flung the spear at the swarm of locusts watching it twirl through the air and cut a line through the formation of the locust. Chrome then waved his hand casually mumbling the word "Flame" as the iron spear reached the middle of their formation. The iron spear suddenly bursts out into a bright flame that engulfs about half of the whole swarm of locusts in a flash. Chrome then swipes his hand out in front of him and guides the flames towards the rest of the swarm looking to engulf it whole in his flame. When he feels his mana suddenly refill from Mei's efforts he smirks maliciously as he activates his Adrenaline Rush and leaps towards the swarm in a blur with a sadistic grin on his face as he says "Flame" while throwing a fist towards the swarm. Soon as he mutters the word a huge wave of fire engulfs the swarm of locusts in front of him reaching out so far that the heat of the flames could be felt by his nearby allies in the backline.



Chrome lands on the ground nearby Mei and mouths over a ‘Thanks’ before flying up into the air to get a nice overview of the battlefield before holding his hand up like a finger gun. Blood starts slowly pooling out of Chrome’s fingers morphing into a long and sharp iron spear before he says “Bang.“ The spear launches forward like a bullet in the wind seemingly being inaccurate as it headed for Paimon’s back instead of Nergal’s. A simple flick of his wrist though Chrome redirects the spear to swerve around Paimon and aim to pierce Nergal’s foot in a instant. While controlling the spear from afar Chrome makes sure to focus his breathing to slowly recharge his spent mana using his mana breathing, and watching the field for any decisive traps or attacks that may be set up by Nergal.



Nessi Dovinique Midrick Worthlessplebian

 

[Nessi]

Lichdragon Fortissax

Plague

When the screeching music hit Nergal’s ears, he grit his teeth, trying to focus as yet another one of Paimon’s fist beat down upon him.
Aaxir’s obsidian blade connected, but to the young dragon, it would feel like trying to cleave through a wall made of pure steel. Even so, the attack managed to go deeper than Arrian’s blade had, which broke Nergal’s concentration long enough for Veritas’s golden chains to properly restrict the plague god.
Worry began to set in, as Nergal thrashed against the golden chains, but it wouldn’t be long before Polux rejoined the fray, holding him down and making it so that he could barely move about. It was at this point that he caught sight of Enthy’s spell coming straight for him, going straight for the birdcage that was attached to his waist. It seemed like all the pieces had fallen into place, and the source of Nergal’s healing factor was about to be cut off.

Enthy’s beam hit the birdcage, but the attack was ineffective.

“Did you really think it would be that easy?” Nergal remarked, his eyes staring directly at Enthy.
The plague god then took a deep breath, before letting out a powerful roar that not only dispelled the spear in his foot and the golden chains holding him, but it also sent Aaxir, Paimon, and even Polux backwards. Without skipping a beat, Nergal took off, closing the gap between himself and the castors.
The isle mages frantically fired off spells to try and slow the evil god that approached, but spells were either blocked, or completely ignored.
The moment Nergal got into range, the screams of many rang out as he leapt over them, and rained down his green projectiles, before rushing straight to his true objective, Wanga.

 

[Nessi]

Eleanor

Sometimes, Eleanor couldn’t put her finger on where it was that she got her inner strength from. During the times in which it mattered most, she always found the energy to move, to block an attack, to strike out to save the man she loved.
“Where does it come from…how do I keep going…” Eleanor thought to herself as she stood between Nergal, and the wounded behind her. She herself still was not at 100%, and still couldn’t fully feel her own legs, yet here she stood, blade drawn, and determination bright in her eyes. She could hear people in the distance calling out for her name, giving her instructions, but all that didn’t matter. What mattered was the enemy before her, and the people behind her. No matter what happened, Nergal could not get to Wanga.

Nergal was the first to strike, swinging his golden mace wildly, but found that his attack was easily dodged, and countered by Eleanor with a quick slice to the wrist.
The moment Eleanor hit the ground, she reinforced her blade, and swung at Nergal’s leg. The attack connected, and her blade dug deep into the plague god, but it didn’t fully go through, only getting about half way through the leg.
“You insolent little brat!” Nergal cried, bringing his sword down upon the eternal king’s champion.
Eleanor met the plague king’s blade with her own, but could feel her strength failing her with every second that passed. “Is this gonna end up like all the other times…where I fall short, and end up gettin’ injured?” Eleanor thought to herself. As she was forced to take a knee, anger began to flow through her body. Was she going to accept being just strong enough to intercept attacks at the last moment? “No…I will not accept that.” she growled, refusing to give way to the enemy before her.

That’s when Eleanor felt it, a strange sensation that resonated deep inside of her. It felt like flickering sparks, sparks that started off small, but grew larger as she pushed back against the plague god’s blade. Soon these “sparks” turned into a small fire of determination, and these flames manifested themselves unto Eleanor’s sword, flames that bore a pink color to them.
Eleanor was surprised by the sudden appearance of the fire, but knew she didn’t have the time to properly question what exactly the flames before her were. With this newfound strength, she pushed Nergal’s blade back completely, and struck him in the left eye, causing the plague god to reel backwards in pain.
“Get away from her!” Paimon yelled, striking Nergal in the head, and sending him into the water. “Eleanor, are you-” Paimon stopped midway, for he didn’t need her to answer. The determination in her eyes, and the awakening of a new strange ability, she was ready to take on the enemy before her.
Nergal slowly rose from the water, until he stood upon it, staring directly at Eleanor. His left eye still bled profusely, and a smile was no longer on his face.
“Make no mistake, Nergal is far from defeated. He still has yet to unleash his full arsenal.” Paimon revealed. . “As it stands now, I don’t think we can beat him, not with phoenix healing him…but maybe we don’t have to beat him…If we can push him into the well, it won’t guarantee that he won’t escape, but it would at least buy us some time to notify, like Jupiter.” Paimon theorized.
“It’s a gamble.” Eleanor replied. “But we don’t have any other options at the moment, do we?”
“The most dangerous part about Nergal is his meticulous planning. He doesn't possess the most destructive power, but through that demented mind of his, he can defeat even the mightiest of foes, if given the time to plan.” Paimon explained. “In our fight long ago, the only reason I won, was honestly because he had underestimated me, a mortal at the time, and that’s not a mistake he’ll ever make again.” Paimon revealed.
The eternal king reached a hand into the sky, and a ball of golden light formed in his palm. He grabbed it, and in an instant, a mighty spear came into his hands, which he twirled about until pointing the weapon directly at Nergal. “Stay on your toes, remember the objective!” Paimon yelled, before charging at Nergal, Eleanor following closely behind.

Paimon was quick to flank Nergal, and drive his spear into the side of the plague god. His attack didn’t go nearly as deep as he would have liked it, but it was effective enough to cause Nergal to instinctively reach his hand towards the wound, leaving his blindspot open for Eleanor to land yet another effective slash.
Eleanor’s attack sent Nergal back, closer to the temple that housed the well of wishes. Alongside Paimon, the pair continued to engage the plague demon, hoping the others would catch on to the plan.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Tiberius Helvian, Longinus

In the blackness his soul swam, consumed by fetid rot, the devouring blight of flesh and bone and nerve. His throat rasped, meekly drawing breaths like a rusted knife across stonework, vile-smelling bile trailing down the corners of his mouth. A scorching hate rose from beneath his temples — a feverish intensity. He hadn't surrendered. His lidded azure eyes twitched, turned, moved with willful purpose. His decay-mottled fingers scrapping dirt, shedding the dead and withered flakes of skin. A fire smouldered within him, growing brighter with each rhythmic beat of his heart, first into a torchlight illuminating the craggy, obsidian fields of his mind. The encroaching, gangrenous flesh writhed in the waxing light, its undulating mass recoiled, shrieking as it was forced back, back into the darkness. But it found no refuge within the hard shadows, instead only raking claws rending its form into ribbons of flesh like the cleaving of a canker. Then, abruptly, through the pleading wails of a sickening disease, Tiberius had heard a voice. Raw, tight with grief, and it penetrated deep. It echoed like a thunderclap, impossible to ignore, but nor would he ever wish it.

The fire had spread from torch to arm, engulfing his limb in a raging inferno. He tossed the flame-bearing branch onto the squirming, coiling mass igniting the last vestiges of that Plague God's corruption.

He started. The man's eyes snapped open and resisted the urge to surge forward. For a moment, his bleary eyes saw naught but the vague outlines of a sorrowful face, her velvety strands of snow hung down about her shoulders. Tears had knifed down her soft cheeks in thin rivulets, he eased his hand up, free of the putrescence that plagued him viciously moments ago. His hand stopped inches, hesitating, then withdrew to his chest — unmarred from the sickly, sticky deceased flesh and pockmarked bone. In fact, it had been renewed completely, owed entirely to Kai's rejuvenating mysticism.

His lips remained steady, but his dim, azures flared brightly as they refocused, now properly beholding Kaida's woe-riven features. The sight was unnerving, slicing deep into his newly-knitted heart. A fresh shiver ran down his spine. He clenched his fists tight, knuckles white. But he turned his head away, breathing slowly before letting his electric blue gaze, sparking with life, hold the saddened vixen's stark, tear-stricken ruby eyes.

"I've never said it..." He began, voice, raw and strained, sundered from the agonized screams mere moments ago, however, curiously firm in his conviction. "But I love you, Suzuki Kaida." The fever-pitched potency of the battle made professing the heart's desires a simple matter, though perhaps, Tiberius considered that it was an ill-timed, foolish decision to declare it now. Wherein the heroes found themselves in a violent, tumultuous tide of bloodied battle between themselves and a foe so horrifically nefarious that a stone would weep bloodied tears. However, the molten flames that surged through his veins sang to him, urging him onward and out with it and Tiberius knew better than to tarry his feet in the mud.

He put his hands beneath him, slowing rising to his feet. He half-turned, glancing at the overworked medic and his God having nearly-finished plying their healing craft. "I am in your debt again and again, Kai, Wanga." He acknowledged, hoping a time would come when he could repay even a fraction of the services they've rendered onto him and the heroes.

His head shifted, looking directly at the water-treading form of Nergal. The roaring wind whipped against the gladiator's sculpted form, snatching at the loose strands of his blond locks. He inclined his eyes up, recognizing the twin stars gleaming in the dead, emptied night sky. Their wicked chill, which permeated these mortal lands, grew warmer and the sheet of darkness that didst devour starry sky relented. And he knew what needed to be done.

"From the horizon in a storm of stars, sent form and given purpose" He bellowed, voice suffused with an unbridled potency of the divine, words over-layered as though he spoke from two throats at once. Eyes now lit like burning braziers of blue, infused with unearthly power that shuddered the very air itself. "given soul, given devotion unto thy own unmaking," The space between his fingers screamed, shuddered, and tore all at once, shedding a mass of inky blackness dominated by frenzied stars, ever-hungry, ever-burning. Tiberius' hand trembled as the celestial heat sank deep within his bones. Deep and wet, he drank from her power. "and so now its song awakens, render judgement, render punishment, and conclusion evermore!" He threw his arm back, then with a roar of his own, drove every ounce of his strength within his aching and tired muscles into the movement, tossing the star-riven spear to Nergal's corporeal body.

But it seemed to go astray as spear just grazed inches from Nergal's armoured cheek, juddering fat sparks in its wake. Then Tiberius snapped his fist shut and pulled his right side back, a star-tipped spear shot out from the bottom of the projectile, skewering Nergal's back, lodged within his spine. And the darkness of the spear, more complete and impenetrable than a moonless night, pulsed like the tendril of a living thing and surged backwards into its prey's pierced form. The hard darkness ate through flesh and muscle, spreading like a cancerous inferno, fastening in place the pestilence God's limbs, coiling around his bones. A normal mortal would've died, his spine shattered, body consumed from the combined efforts of Man and Goddess. For now, he will be held in place, guard opened and defenseless for the debilitating strike.

Interactions: Beann (Kaida), Bloody_Death (Kai), Nessi (Nergal).
Mentions: The Heroes (Let your aim be true, relieve the Phoenix);

 

[Nano]

Enthyskana Rhoda

Interactions: Isle Mages, Nergal Nessi

Mentions: Eleanor, Paimon

The battle shifted to its next harrowing act without a breath or reprieve, and Nergal surged forth wildly like the violent wave that followed whenever the seas receded and grew eerily silent. With nary a scratch to his precious gilded prison and Phoenix’s powers bolstering the god of pestilence, Nergal broke past the gods and mortals who’d once held him down and brought upon the vulnerable mages in his path the deliverance of his cursed rain.

For every three mages whose bodies lurched and tumbled in panicked, futile attempts to squeeze between the gaps of the deadly shower of green, only one had the experience and acumen to lift their staves and recite a spell of protection with quivering lips. One, two, three, and many more fell, and the injured could only thank the goddess of fortune that they’d narrowly evaded a fatal hit when timid eyes gazed upon the nightmarish sight before them. Some perished nigh instantly, their mortal bodies never having been meant to bear the weight of a divine entity’s curse. Others, hit with the misfortune of a fatal wound that was not severe enough to kill them outright, filled the air with their garbled screams, throats gurgling with the putrefied fluids gradually filling their lungs. A lucky few remained completely unscathed purely through the grace of Nergal’s indiscriminate aim, though shaky knees brought them crashing down to the bloodied earth as their nostrils flared from the stench of fetid bodies rapidly decaying until once familiar faces turned completely unrecognizable. They, however, wouldn’t be given much time to wallow in the fear consuming their mind.

The God of Justice did a quick scan of the damage done, his gaze tepid, neither lit with compassion for their pitiful states nor scorn towards their disrupted formation.

“Receive comfort within justice’s clemency,”

he said, calling upon a gentle light that cleansed the surroundings of the foul odor and soothed the pain of the injured. Though it had little effect on those whose injuries left them incapacitated, it relieved the sensation of the burns and aches of the mages whose wounds were minor enough that they wouldn’t be aggravated too much even if they moved.

“Those who are able to walk on their own, help carry the injured to the backlines. Mages with knowledge in healing spells, conserve your energy until we reach Bastet’s barrier.”

As Veritas began to give instructions out to the injured group of mages, he carefully kept an eye on Nergal’s movements, prepared to throw up a barrier if he sent another barrage of projectiles their way.

“Enthyskana.”

The God of Justice’s telepathic message contained but a single word, yet the young dragoness gave an affirmative and drew the axe she now held within her hands closer. The weight of the weapon felt unusually heavy in her hands, as if it were a solid lump of lead. With a resolute inhale, Enthy raised her arms, tightening her grip upon the axe’s handle as she drew its head over her shoulder and behind her back.

“Absolved shall be the seekers; blind shall remain the unrepentant sinners.”

A final, heavy swing in a clean downward arc sent a golden projectile in the shape of an axe hurtling towards Nergal as it rotated into a violent spin. It flew past Aaxir, past Veritas, and past Nergal himself, merely grazing his cheek at best if at all as it otherwise hurtled in a harmless arc until it reached the surface of the waters that Eleanor and Paimon had wrestled the God of Pestilence into. However, the moment the tip of the axe cut into the water, a bright light burst forth. To Enthy’s allies, those bathed within its effulgence remained unaffected by its harsh glow, while any deemed an enemy would find their eyes burned by its radiance and their senses disoriented by the impact of the spell.

 

[CasualTea]

Rohen Xiong, "The Mad Orca"

Interactions: Tiberius Worthlessplebian , Eleanor/Paimon/Nergal Nessi

Mentions: Nel Dawnsx

As the battle continued up top, Nergal's movement was quite erratic and unpredictable. It made trying to take him by surprise from underneath even more challenging and troublesome. With the slow and cautious movement she creates, repositioning to be right under him proved difficult. For time, it even seemed like he was on a full-on assault until something drove him back. Hard. She continued to try and feel for his position on the surface via vibrations until it trailed off.

At that point, understanding where more water leaks were coming from in her little tunnel she understood that he was now on the water. This puts her in a conflicting position. Her aim was the bird cage since it's the only factor that's stopping the group from progressing. But now that he was on water, if she tried to sneak up she would be caught and suffer the same consequences as the gladiator. However, on the surface, she felt movement surge from the back.

It was at a relative area where Tiberius was taken to be treated, away from the battle. This movement also made their way to the water. She decided that it was just time to breach into the water. "Flow redirection, repel water." She said before she opened up the wall of her tunnel and went out into the water's depths. She looked up and saw Paimon and Eleanor fighting Nergal head on as he kept getting staggered back towards the direction of the well. She could only figure out what they were doing but she also saw a familiar darkness.

She recognized that magic signature. Only one person she knows in this group of rag-tags specializes in that ability. The Olrodian gladiator: Tiberius. A grin of confidence soon formed on her face before she quickly swam out to a distance underwater. There, she took one more look at that foul pest of a demon to plan her next move. The battle now took its place on water, an environment she is very well familiar with. Despite it being on waters she only treaded once in her life, it's quite easy to make its acquaintance and aid her. It was only in large bodies of waters such as this where she can use it to cause some serious waves.

As she observed the immobile plague God, she breached through the water's surface like a majestic killer whale. While doing so, she quickly spoke her incantation. At the peak of her arc, several water swords formed around her all pointing towards Nergal. In her incantation, she firmly exclaimed, "Water, outlined by will: Blade Torrent!" In that moment, the blades around her shot forth one by one, piercing Nergal's structure with great accuracy. While they didn't completely impale him, they did accomplish their purpose in piercing through flesh and injecting themselves and spreading throughout his body causing internal damage.

While the attack occurred, she stood atop on the water's surface, her prior incantation allowing her to take stance on it without breaking its tension. She took a look at Tiberius and nodded. "Back on your feet, huh comrade? Ready for a little payback?" From there, she would muster up a powerful attack. With the amount of water available to her in this area, it gave her a perfect source to borrow from therefore enhancing it greatly. As a magic circle formed behind her, she began her incantation.

"From the moment of origin, all will return to finality." She began, her words echoed softly throughout the battlefield. "From primordial time and space, to the distant future, it will never sate its hunger even after there is nothing left." As she spoke, the magic circle grew larger and larger. Its light growing brighter and luminescent with pink and light blue hues meshed within one another. "Lightless nihility: All-Devouring Narhwal!"

From the magic circle behind her, breached a Narwhal more larger than she ever summoned before leaving behind a shattered circle with vibrant hues of color of blue and violet. Ice now being part of its form making the entity unlike its solely water-based predecessors and almost like a living creature. It soared high into the sky with one destination in made upon its descent. On top of Nergal. It opened its mouth wide before swallowing him whole on the way down. Much like Nel's ring of fire, its physical weight heavily crushing Nergal and Rohen's allies are spared and rather breaking apart its form when coming into contact with either Eleanor or Paimon. It slowly returned to regular sea water as it slowly drove itself down on the plague God further immobilizing him allowing any ally to take pot shots at the flesh bag without hinderance.

 

[LazyDaze]

AAXIR THE RED

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Mentions: Dovinique Nessi Nano Worthlessplebian

Reverberations echoed through his scales and mortal flesh as his blade connected with a true god. It was the difference between them that nearly detached his hands from the great blade of Pele to the point Aaxir felt as if he was attempting to hold on to air. Even through this failure Aaxir snatched the wind and continued to fight against doubt, and futility. For the second time in this battle Aaxir had received the attention of Pestilence; however, this time he couldn't help but smile at the momentary break in concentration because he knew that he wasn't alone.

"Paybacks a-"

Chains of a familiar light surrounded and entrapped Nergal before the final attack surged inches away from him and straight to Nergal. The heroes on the front lines, those who made ultimate sacrifices, those who protected the others, and the healers, everyone played their part perfectly. Had it been any other opponent they would have likely won.


“Did you really think it would be that easy?”

With a mighty roar signaling their vain efforts, all were pushed away as Nergal sped toward Wanga. Meanwhile Aaxir could no longer grasp air as he tumbled away losing track of ground and sky until he carved a path through the earth and tumbled to a halt. His heart sank before he saw because his heart had already seen. Nergal was a deity through and through. It was almost as if teleportation was in his arsenal the way he blinked away from his previous position and was mowing through mages on his way to Wanga and...Eleanor? Somehow, someway she was standing just as she always had; however, now she was facing off against one of the greatest adversaries they had since being freed from that dark prison. Aaxir burst from his position, circling back to his sword then jettisoned to him. Every clash appeared to put a strain on the strings of fate. There was death and disease along the path to victory and salvation, one would be wise to avoid that unseen force. With each ticking second Aaxir could not help but wonder why he could not fly at the speed of light. Even though Aaxir possessed the powers of a god, it was clear he was mortal, but perhaps she was not. A surge of power could be felt from her direction as Aaxir paced even faster than his heart to cover what seemed like an ever expanding surface. Momentarily the fearless, fragile Eleanor appeared to be Nergal's equal, for a moment. Flames akin to cherry blossoms and a light softer than clouds were her sword and shield; Paimon was her guardian angel. Together they would fend off the devil speaking eloquently through their actions. Suddenly, as if Justice intervene to provide balance to their recent failure, a oddly comforting roar bellowed across the battlefield revealing that Tiberius had indeed survived. His mighty spear shot to the front lines missed, reformed then found it's mark. Justice found balance again as light sped past the darkness, eclipsing all within while allowing the vision of heroes and gods against such an abomination to view their target. Justice had given them one more chance. Closer, and closer Aaxir paced calming his heart, allowing his allies to put their lives on the scales to carry a weight a single entity could not bear. One by one they tipped the scales towards their favor though the path of certain victory remained in a dense fog the stepped forward. Rohen entered the thick haze next, casting a might Narwhale that took advantage of the onslaught and pushed Nergal further. A path suddenly uncovered itself in this hazy battle. Aaxir would have never heard Paimon's plea, the valent chants or confessions, but he could hear everyone loud and clear. A language spoken through history, and connections guided Aaxir's movements. He knew what everyone was trying to do. If he released his trump card of the stored heat from the various attacks since this battle started, it would incinerate the Narwhal and cloud their vision. The Aaxir who was blind to rage would have done so, but now he decided to coordinate with his ally to defeat the common enemy. Ironically, it was fates blessing that he had received a gem from Fel to strengthen his next attack. A gust of wind would follow Aaxir entering the battle once again before taking a sharp turn toward the sky to gain an aerial advantage. Sparks of lightning flashed violently and nearly indiscriminately as Aaxir released an onslaught of electricity to conduct along the water, illuminating the rapids that consumed Nergal until the final blow could be taken. The combination of the two would be severally debilitating as the water helped guide Aaxir's reckless power to it's target.

"Did you really think it would be that difficult? For us the chosen? If you're a god I have nothing to worry about."

 

[OldTurtle]

Fel Petri

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Fel raised a hand and the great ball of flame above him twisted and hissed like a knot of serpents in response, readying to spit fire again. But... that wasn't quite right, was it? For all his strength, brute force was not enough to overwhelm the might of Lady Pheonix herself. For the longest time, he'd thought nothing could. He'd been quite wrong, hadn't he? The memory of another fallen companion stung at his temple before he brushed it by. That Nergal had gotten his grubby little paws on the goddess felt sacriligious -- but also more importantly, personally insulting. Like dredging up the worst of their failures and doubling its mass. Fel clenched his jaw and let his hand drop. How incensing.

"Well then, what will you do next?"

Even as the chaos of the ongoing battle roared on, Ayao's voice was, as always, crystal clear. She stood facing him, arms crossed over her chest. There was a natural hardness to her features that was highlighted in the moonlight, sharp and dangerous as a blade. But despite her height, it never felt like the goddess looked down on him. She more resembled a pillar hewn from marble, tall and solidly built for the express purpose of supporting the roof above your head. Beautiful too, though he'd never admit as much to her. Eugh, like she needed more ammunition to prod him with. Fel searched a moment for some semblance of gentleness as well, then looked away satisfied.

"I'm open to any suggestions you may have," he grumbled, rubbing a hand across his cheek sheepishly.

"Oh? Accepting my advice all of a sudden now, are we?"

"...Really making me wish I wasn't."

"Hm. A discussion for a later time. For now, why don't we ponder for a mo-"

"-'Ponder?' Ayao, we hardly have the time to sit around and think!" By now Nergal had rebuffed another round of his allies' attacks. The malevolent god charged forward again, sending blades of rot falling from above. Fel hastily rose his staff to ward them away, but each of the projectiles skittered aside as if caught and tossed aside by some great, invisible hand. Fel cast another glance at Ayao, who remained unmoved.

"Is that not what you do best? You've never produced the best results when acting spontaneously."

"Do you really need to criticize me now of all times?" Fel threw up his hands. "Alright, fine. Let's ponder."

"You cannot slay Nergal, not in your current states. Though if you were to-"

"Not a chance. I can't and won't use that here, it's too risky. And, frankly, rather disgusting."

"-Very well, then. I cannot force you to make smart decisions when you are so vehemently opposed." His goddess sighed mournfully, and a vein pulsed dangerously in Fel's forehead. "Paimon would wish you to force Nergal back within the confines of the Well of Origin, to buy time enough to send for reinforcements from the heavens."

"How exactly did you...?"

Ayao raised a finger and tapped it against her ear. "The winds relay much, if only you cared to listen."

Fel thought that was a bit beyond even him, but chose to hold his tongue. A wise move, perhaps he really had begun to think again. "Well, alright then. That is something I can attempt."

Setting his feet apart and bracing himself with his staff, Fel began again. "Pent-" An odd breeze began to stir, stirring the surface of the sea into a light froth. "-under the weight of the greatest of mountains, chained away from the ocean, earth, and sky." They picked up now, angry and biting and stirring up larger and larger waves in their wake. "The coldest and most vengeful, the freest and proudest of all forces bends to my will." Fel's teeth clenched and the muscles in his arms strained painfully as he fought to control the gathering currents, his staff creaking dangerously. With a final, labored gasp he finished, "I release the Northern Gales."

There was a moment of silence. And then, with great effort, Fel swung his staff forward. With a deafening banshee-wail, the torrent of winds threw Fel back off his feet and exploded forward, splitting the surface of the sea in twain as they rushed Nergal like a stampede of rampaging beasts, crossing the distance in almost less than the blink of an eye.

 

[Steve Jobs]

Title of Song

Freyr Stormsurge

Mentions: The Heroes, Nergal

Plumes of fire came from all directions, enveloping the plague god's arms in righteous heat. Whether the purifying flames of Shiva's chosen or the destructive magic of Fel, Nergal should have become ash and yet, he remained smugly undeterred. Regardless of how formidable he may have been on his own, the combined power of Paimon and and his other allies ought to have been enough to at least injure him.

No, in a twist of fate Nergal acquired Lady Phoenix. He'd only heard tales of such a creature, but the irony of the goddess of rebirth trapped by a god of plagues was not lost on him. Their only means of defeating him lay in freeing the phoenix, though with the odds were slim. With only its appearance and Enthy's ineffective beam, Freyr could only hypothesize what enchantments made the cage so hardy.

I'm curious as well.

You've chosen an odd time to interject,

Freyr thought with wrinkled brows.

Beyond the confines of The Forge, Kagutsuchi rarely chimed in; as Freyr found out two months into their pact, neither were too talkative outside of their trades. Even now, the god's presence seemed motivated by self-interest rather than a moral imperative.

This is not my handiwork if that is what you are asking.

That much I know,

the Fae-Giant grumbled.

But that hardly answers my question.

Your question might have been pertinent twenty-four hours ago, but as it stands there is no way for either of us to analyze that cage unless we want to be caught in the fray.

More than that, knowing what enchantments Nergal put upon the cage still wouldn't guarantee that he (or anyone else) could break the clasp. His lips drew a line as Nergal continued deflecting attack after attack from his allies. The fight was spinning out of control, a mess of pestilence and rage as more of the heroes joined the front lines. Freyr knew the limits of his abilities well; experienced as he was in battle, he was a shield before a sword.

"Get behind me!"

Freyr yelled, diving in front of the mages still living in spite of Nergal's initial attack. Replenished by Han Xiangzi's otherworldly melody, willowy branches sprouted from his gauntlet, intertwining with one another until a gnarled bulwark formed in front of him. The blights exploded against his shield, turning greenery to rot as he created cover for the surviving mages. Though the path to Bastet's barrier was short, Nergal made it clear there would be no survivors; he could not risk another healer being caught in the fray.

With each branch that shriveled, a new one grew in its place; With each step Freyr took, he urged the mages forward. So long as they weren't intercepted, he could focus on protecting the one refuge they had on the battlefield.

 

[Dovinique]

Dong Mei

As the melody resonated across the battlefield, Mei found solace in her own harmonious creation. It was as if invisible hands gently cradled and lifted her above the chaos, granting her a moment of serene clarity and shielding her from the nonsense below. With the final note, her gaze shifted to Nergal, her eyes searching for signs that her song had weakened the God of Plague, hoping to create a crack for her allies to exploit. For a short moment, her eyes locked on Nergal, but then her attention swiftly darted to each of her friends. They fought valiantly, their efforts synchronized in a concerted attempt to bring down their formidable foe. Mei, too, endeavored to contribute, scrutinizing the scene to determine her next move. Strategy was not her forte, in fact, she mostly struggled with it. Her greatest fear was that, instead of aiding the battle, she might inadvertently hinder their attacks.

A light tap on her shoulder drew her attention, and she turned to see Han Xiangzi standing behind her. "Watch and learn," he said gently. "Assess what people are doing and think about how you can help. Trust yourself, sweet pie." Mei nodded firmly, understanding his words. It was not the perfect time for learning, but it was still the perfect opportunity to learn.

Her eyes found Rohen first. Before she could fully take in her presence, she vanished into the ground like a stealthy ground squirrel, leaving nothing, not even a small hole. God knew where she was headed. It was a risky strategy but one that could catch Nergal off guard. Mei contemplated, should she aid Rohen? Perhaps distracting Nergal? No… she quickly shook her head. If she tried too hard to draw Nergal’s attention, Nergal might become suspicious and realize something was amiss.

How about Aaxir, the fierce red dragon? Mei expected him to burst forth like a madman, charging at Nergal as if his life were nothing more than a speck of dust in this vast world. Yet, to her surprise, his sword moved with precise, measured motions. Its swing was tender yet imbued with the blazing fury of the mighty dragon.

Almost simultaneously, Veritas emerged into view, his sword a symphony of lethal grace, dancing in tandem with Aaxir's furious strikes. Their blades, like twin flames, threatened to engulf Nergal's very essence. Yet Veritas' contribution did not cease with steel alone. Chains, appearing as if conjured by divine order, erupted from the earth, its golden brilliance shimmering with celestial power. It ensnared Nergal, enfolding the malevolent deity in its embrace, as if offering a long-awaited reunion to an estranged lover, halting his movements.

Breaking her focus, a familiar figure landed near Mei. It was Chrome, and as always his presence brought a comforting warmth. Despite the urgency of the moment, he spared a moment to convey his gratitude before darting off to fulfill his own crucial role. Mei managed to offer a brief smile in return, hoping he caught it before he vanished into the fray.

Refocusing her attention on Nergal, Mei watched as the golden chains held firm, allowing the Plague God only the slightest wriggle of defiance. Yet, before Nergal could exploit even this small opening, Polux sprang into action, his powers immobilizing Nergal completely. The sequence of the attacks reached its peak as three lasers streaked across the battlefield with the swiftness of shooting stars, bending in a relentless attempt to find its target. Though Mei could not see the caster, her prayers followed the trails as if guiding its path. With a resounding impact, it struck the birdcage, causing it to sway ominously, yet leaving it unharmed. The attacks, while visually stunning, proved ineffective against Nergal's defenses.

Han Xiangzi could only grit his teeth, frustration bubbling within him as he watched every attack fail to break through Nergal's defenses. His concern wasn't just for his comrades but also for Phoenix, the goddess herself. To be confined in such a small cage, swayed and slammed repeatedly, her powers exploited by evil hands, such a nightmare could only be conceived in the darkest corners of a God's mind.

"If only… If only Rowan was still here…" he thought bitterly. Had Rowan been present, Phoenix might not be trapped. She could be standing beside her hero, fighting Nergal together as they once did. The battle would not feel as desperate as it did now, for without Phoenix's healing power sustaining him, Nergal would not possess his seemingly immortal resilience. As these thoughts churned in Han's mind, he couldn't help but feel the weight of their situation pressing down on him, intensifying his resolve to find a way to free Phoenix and tip the scales in their favor.

Their efforts were continued to be dispelled as Nergal unleashed a wrathful roar, a primal sound that sent not only Gods and heroes reeling, but also reverberated through the very fabric of the spells and attacks against him. With a mighty leap, he took to the air once more, his form a blur as he dashed towards the innocent mages. Despite their desperate incantations and the weaving of spells from trembling hands, they proved powerless to halt the inexorable advance of the plague god.

"No! Please stop!" Mei cried out, her heart pounding with a constant fear as she raced to keep pace with Nergal's stride. Han Xiangzi's outstretched hands failed to stop her, “Dong Mei!” then he too began to run, following in the wake of his hero. Focusing her mana into her palm, the energy started to glow softly, then Mei began to chant, "Dance with me, o' mighty Zephyr..." Her breath caught in her throat, but she pressed on, "Waive those who defy your power and save those who seek your tower. Cyclone Saber!"

It began with two orbs of wind, each whirling fiercely within Mei's palms. As they spiraled with increasing velocity, they gradually compressed, shaping themselves into razor-sharp blades reminiscent of the cyclone. Then, two more orbs materialized alongside the first pair, completing the quartet of swirling sabers. As Mei's speed slowed, she hurled the first saber towards Nergal, watching as it soared effortlessly above his head, missing its mark by lots of inches. Undeterred, she launched the second saber, aiming for Nergal's right arm. But her hopes were dashed as he deftly dodged a fireball hurtling towards him, inadvertently evading Mei's attack in the process. The collision of the two magical forces caused the saber to explode in a burst of energy, dissipating into nothingness.

With time slipping away, Mei frantically released the third and final saber, hoping against hope that it would find its mark. But her heart sank as the two blades clashed mid-air, their energies canceling each other out in a dazzling display. Yet, undaunted by failure, Mei refused to yield. With a flick of her wrist, she redirected the first saber, sending it hurtling towards Nergal's chest in a last-ditch effort to halt his advance. However, upon impact, the saber seemed to dissipate harmlessly, as if it had never existed at all… leaving behind only a sense of bitter defeat. Nergal's unstoppable advance continued unabated.

With no one able to stop his advance, Nergal continued on his destructive path. Leaping over the mages, he unleashed another volley of poisonous projectiles, each one striking with deadly accuracy and sowing chaos among those unfortunate enough to be within range. The air filled with cries and screams as the toxic rain descended. Fortunately, Han Xiangzi's quick reflexes saved both himself and Mei from certain harm. With a firm grip on her arm, he stopped her desperate charge as soon as Nergal took his leap, pulling her back just in time to evade the deadly barrage.

Rage surged through the Zheng Fa girl, coursing through her veins like wildfire. "Why did you stop me??" she almost screamed, her voice laced with frustration and despair. Tears, long held back with great effort, finally broke free from their confines, tracing a path down her cheeks. The tears of desperation, born from a heart weighed down by the unbearable burden of helplessness.

"What do you expect?" Han Xiangzi's voice, once tender and gentle, now crackled with frustration. "Do you think you can protect them by rushing in alone? Do you truly believe that a mere mortal like you can stand against a goddamn God?" The fear of losing his hero shattered his calm demeanor, revealing the raw edges of his inner turmoil. His worst nightmares threatened to become reality as he envisioned Mei floundering, gasping for life.

In the heavy silence that followed Han Xiangzi's outburst, Mei stood frozen, her shock mirroring his own. Never before had he directed such anger towards her, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air between them. Slowly, Han Xiangzi took a deep breath, the realization of his loss of composure washing over him like a cold wave. Slowly, he gathered the fragments of his shattered calm, letting go of Mei's arm and as his grip loosened, it should reveal a faint red line left by his nails etched into Mei's pale skin if people looked underneath her sleeves.

"Just… don't rush like that again, okay?" Han Xiangzi pleaded, his voice now softened, filled with concern. Mei nodded… again.

Han Xiangzi stared at Mei, guilt piling up in his heart. He should have been more patient with her. This was Mei's first real battle, her first encounter with such devastating casualties. Her naive heart, driven by an unwavering belief that she could save everyone, made this experience far harder for her than for the others. Why had he chosen Mei as his hero in the first place? It wasn't for her war strategy or her battle prowess, she was even the worst for both of it. He chose her for the kindness in her heart, the willingness to help those in need, the purity to cleanse the world of sin. As her god, his role was to guide her, to shape her into the best version of herself. Not as someone else but as Dong Mei, the hero of Han Xiangzi.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean it… but I want you to understand this, sweet pie," he began, "You can't help people if you're dying. Your role is not to rush in, but to hold everything together, to push them forward, to support them even in the most desperate situations. You are our pillar of strength. Without you, everything will crumble."

Mei's eyes softened as she listened. Tears started to dry and light slowly came back to her. Han continued, "Remember why you were chosen, Mei. It's your heart that makes you special, not just your magic. Trust in that and trust in yourself." Mei nodded, a different nod than before, a firm one.

Soon, Veritas's commanding voice cut through the chaos, offering direction and purpose to the bewildered and disoriented ones. Han Xiangzi reached out for Mei's flute, holding it gently in his hands. Even though Mei only gave a nod as her answer, he believed his words had already reached her. His fingers poised over the holes, ready to play. "I will command Escha to help you transport the wounded to our healers. I will follow close behind.”

With a flurry of quick notes from Han Xiangzi's skilled fingers, Escha swiftly responded to his call for aid. Its majestic wings beat with a powerful gust, dispersing the dust and debris that had settled around them. With a graceful bow, Escha offered its back to Mei, an invitation to mount and embark on their mission of mercy. As Mei settled herself atop the wind creature, Escha wasted no time, dashing forward with breathtaking speed towards the wounded. With each pass, Mei carefully lifted the injured souls from the battlefield, cradling them in her arms as she climbed back to Escha's back. She held them close, her heart ached with the pain of their suffering. She was determined not to let go until they were safely delivered to Kai and Wanga's side within Bastet's sanctuary.

Time blurred as Mei tirelessly repeated the process, her arms aching with the strain of each precious burden. She descended with each wounded person, gently placing them on the ground before returning to the sky to transport another. The cycle repeated several times, each trip taking a toll on her physically and emotionally. Yet, fueled by a fierce determination and an strong resolve, she persevered, her strength bolstered by the knowledge that she was providing aid to those in need.

Once everyone was safely transported to the healers, Mei quickly jumped off Escha and immediately began tending to the victims of Nergal's attack. She moved swiftly among the injured, bringing water to soothe their pain, holding their heads if they felt the urge to vomit, and offering a comforting hand to those who needed it. Sometimes, she would offer words of encouragement or even crack silly, nonsense jokes to lift the foul mood. She believed that the greatest healing came from maintaining a happy, positive mindset. Mei was convinced that people could even cheat death if they were willing enough to fight for life.

While for Han Xiangzi, he stood a bit farther from the group, maintaining a strategic vantage point to oversee everyone. His eyes meticulously assessed the severity of each individual’s injuries. Whenever he spotted someone in critical condition without a healer available, he took his flute and played a commanding note to summon Poku. The small, flying bunny fluttered toward the suffering individual, nestling under their palm or resting gently on their cheek. Poku's presence provided a temporary shield, a gentle delay against the scythe of death. Han Xiangzi ensured Poku stayed with each person until a healer arrived, then moved it to another in need. Though he couldn't heal them directly, he granted them precious time. Amidst the flurry of activity, Han Xiangzi's gaze often fell on Mei. She moved with a relentless, compassionate energy even as exhaustion threatened to overtake her. One thought persistently occupied Han Xiangzi's mind, she needs to learn healing spells. The sight of Mei tirelessly aiding the wounded reinforced his belief that with the right training, her potential to save lives could be limitless.

As Mei moved among the wounded, she suddenly spotted Tiberius and Kaida. Her heart instinctively urged her to rush over and check on Tiberius, but she paused, feet rooted to the ground, and instead watched them from a distance. She had heard stories of their bond, witnessed playful banter between them, but never had she seen such a genuine connection as true as this moment. Each word uttered, every touch, and every gesture seemed crafted uniquely for one another.

Just as Mei was about to leave them for their intimate moment, a single sentence drifted to her ears. One simple sentence, yet it made her almost squeal with delight. Despite the low volume, she still caught the word "love” and it effortlessly lifted her lips into a happy curve. The sincere emotion in the warrior's voice filled her with joy and warmth. Tiberius's rapid recovery and evident strength brought her relief, but it was the confession of love that touched her deeply. Witnessing this tender moment added a soft, joyful glee to her. Despite the heavy expectations and burdens on her shoulders as a hero, Mei, too, was just a young girl in her blooming season.

Believing her support there was complete, Mei ran back to Han Xiangzi. He was once again playing his flute, summoning the red flowers that blossomed around them. Though not as much as before, the flowers provided just enough mana to aid the healers in their efforts. After the last attack, the healers would need every bit of extra energy to keep on fighting. Mei supported Han Xiangzi by plucking the flowers and began distributing them to the healers in need. She moved swiftly, but her eyes couldn't help but stray towards the ongoing battle between Nergal and the rest of the heroes.

Though Mei couldn't discern the details from her vantage point, the scene unfolding before her was unmistakable. Eleanor, her sword ablaze with righteous fury, stood alongside Paimon, Rohen, and Aaxir, their collective might pitted against Nergal in a nonstop onslaught. Suddenly, another figure appeared on the battlefield, almost as if materializing in the blink of an eye. Mei's human eyes struggled to keep pace with the rapid action, but her heart recognized the familiar face instantly. Fel.

"I'm going to help them," Mei declared, determination blazing in her eyes. She pulled up her sleeves, adopting an unnecessary fighting stance before beginning her incantation. "The wind blows, the leaves rustle. Let me borrow the sprightlow. Take me up, take me down, let the world spin around. Zephyr Glide!" With a final, resounding note, the wind responded, lifting her into the air.

Before departing, Mei glanced back at Han Xiangzi, "You can have the flute. I will use my wind magic to aid the team." Without waiting for Han Xiangzi's response, she soared off, leaving him staring after her in disbelief, clutching the jade flute in his hand, "Isn't this... my flute in the first place?"

With the support of the wind, Mei rushed toward Nergal. Instead of standing beside the warriors at the front, she landed at the edge of the water, her eyes scanning the battlefield with high alert. Stretching her hands out to her sides, she took a deep breath, feeling the wind swirl around her before it seemed to enter her body. Each inhalation brought the breeze inside her, transforming it into energy, then into mana, replenishing her reserves with a steady, measured rhythm. Though her mana could naturally replenish over time, focusing entirely on absorbing the wind accelerated the process, while also boosting her wind magic significantly. As she stood there, her senses attuned to the fight, she listened intently for any sign that her comrades might need her aid. She should be able to cast Spring Breeze Fountain for one more time.

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Mentions: almost everybody

 

[Zariel]

As the battle against the plague god raged on, Azaera watched from her lofty perch, keenly observing the battlefield like a hawk searching for a lone rodent upon the steppe. Below her, the chaos unfolded in a disastrous spectacle of destruction and despair. The air crackled with the energy of unleashed powers, and the ground trembled under the weight of clashing titans. The world itself seemed to recoil from the presence of Nergal, whose miasma of disease and decay tainted everything it touched.

But there was one glaring issue. No matter how hard her companions tried, Nergal would emerge unscathed. Shiva's fires of destruction, Fel's powerful magic, and Aaxir's unbridled fury weren't enough. Each assault that should have turned the tide of battle merely rolled off Nergal's form like raindrops off a leaf.

And it soon became clear why.

"Phoenix?!" Azaera gasped.

Nergal had captured Phoenix. Born of the purest, unadulterated primal fire, she was the Goddess of Rebirth. Her boon, more than likely stolen unwillingly, bestowed the deity of pestilence with unparalleled regenerative capabilities. At this point, he was practically invincible. The sight of Phoenix, bound and imprisoned within a cage, sent a shiver down Azaera's spine. Her vibrant flames, once a symbol of hope and renewal, were now twisted and dimmed under Nergal's influence.

Azaera lowered her bow, her brow furrowed, and a solemn expression of concern plastered her visage. She had always believed in the power of her Dark Flame of Extinction, a force feared even among the divine, once used to pave a path of destruction, she now wields with a sense of great responsibility. But doubt gnawed at her resolve. If there was one being capable of surviving her attack, whom even her flames could not extinguish, it was her—Phoenix.

While Phoenix was bound to Nergal, the heroes had no chance of winning. Their only hope was to free the Goddess of Rebirth from her cage. Azaera's mind raced, sifting through the possibilities. Each passing moment saw her comrades pushed further to the brink, their efforts futile against an enemy who could simply heal from any wound inflicted.

There was only one obvious way.

"We need to separate those two."

It seemed the younger dragoness was of the same mind, as Enthyskana weaving intricate threads of light, each one glowing with the promise of liberation. Her attack moved with practised precision, a dazzling array of beams dancing towards the cage holding the trapped diety. The threads of light shimmered and sparkled as they converged on their target. But as the beams struck, the cage’s enchantments flared to life, shielding it from any harm. The light was absorbed, deflected, rendered utterly useless.

"Tsssk!" Azaera bared her teeth, hissing in frustration. "It's okay, little sister, you tried... Now it's my turn."

The Dark Dragoness, paused, thinking to herself for a moment.

...

O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face​

"Inanna..."

---

"I'm here," the goddess answered. "Is it finally time?"

Azaera nodded. "Indeed. I don't think we have much choice... We need to use it."

"Understood. Let us do this together, my champion."

---

The air grew heavy with divine energy as a radiant light illuminated the battlefield. From this brilliance, the war goddess emerged, adorned with her majestic horned crown.

With a knowing nod, Azaera exhaled through circled lips. She eased herself, releasing the tension in her body, and unfurled her arms, tilting her head to the sky.

It was time to unleash her true form.

Azaera's breath grew steady as she focused inward, preparing herself for the transformation. Her body reeled back, and a sharp, searing pain shot through her limbs. She gritted her teeth, embracing the agony as a necessary part of her metamorphosis.

Her skin started to ripple and shift, the transformation commencing in earnest. Her bones cracked and elongated, her spine extending as her posture grew hunched. Her arms and legs twisted and contorted, the joints dislocating and reshaping with each passing second. The skin on her fingers fused together, forming the beginnings of scales that glittered like obsidian in the dim light.

Azaera's face contorted, her jaw dislocating and stretching forward. Her eyes changed first, the pupils elongating into vertical slits that gleamed with a predatory glint. Her nose flattened and melded into her face, and her mouth widened, revealing rows of sharp, needle-like teeth. The transformation spread down her neck, which thickened and expanded, her muscles bulging with newfound strength.

As her human features continued to disappear, her body elongated further, the last vestiges of her limbs merging into the thick, coiling mass of a serpentine form. Her skin was now entirely covered in iridescent scales that shimmered with a dark, almost hypnotic sheen. The transformation reached its climax as her torso and lower body fused into one, forming the powerful, undulating body of a giant serpent.

Azaera's draconic body now towered over the battlefield, a colossal entity of majestic lethality. She swayed slightly, adjusting to her new form, her tongue flickering out to taste the air.

"It hass been far too long sssince I have taken thisss form... It feelsss good." Azaera spoke with a frightening serpentine voice.

Azaera, fully transformed, felt the surge of power coursing through her. Her mind, though still her own, was now sharper, more attuned to the instincts of her primal nature. She looked down at Inanna and nodded, her tongue flicking in and out in a silent affirmation.

The war goddess leapt up with the agility of a trained acrobat. She somersaulted through the air, landing gracefully atop Azaera's head, one leg outstretched, one knee bent, and one hand placed firmly upon the dark scales to stabilise herself. The sight of the war goddess poised atop the great serpent was truly a vision of both majesty and terror.

Drawing in a deep breath, Azaera let out a terrifying roar that boomed with fury and power through the sky. Nearby gulls fled in a frenzied flock of fear. The sea itself responded to her mighty cry, its surface rippling violently as if acknowledging the presence of a true apex predator.

With Inanna balanced expertly on her head, the dragon coiled down from the pillar she had mounted earlier, her massive body undulating with sinuous elegance. She moved with a speed and fluidity that belied her enormous size, her scales glimmered like dark jewels under the sunlight. Reaching the edge of the land, she plunged into the water, her form slicing through the waves.

The sight of the giant serpent entering the sea was mesmerizing. As they surged forward, Azaera's winding body raced through the currents, creating a wake of turbulence that spread out in all directions. Inanna, standing tall and unwavering, appeared as though she were surfing on the serpent’s head.

When they reached the well in the centre, the dragon hauled herself onto the land, her muscular bulk coiling and uncoiling with remarkable agility. The ground trembled under her weight as she slithered forward, her eyes locked on the distant cage where Pheonix was imprisoned. Inanna disembarked from Azaera's head. Together, as one, they rushed towards the cage, moving in perfect sync.

Putrid daggers, dripping with vile magic, rained down from the sky, aiming to halt their advance. But Azaera was sharp, all too familiar with the feeling of a thousand arrows falling from the sky upon her, unleashing a vicious stream of dark fire. The inky flames roared forth, consuming the daggers in mid-air, reducing them to harmless ashes before they could even graze her or Inanna.

As they drew closer to the cage, their determined eyes narrowed.

"Now! Do it!" shouted the dragoness.

Inanna extended her hand, summoning The Realm Destroying Axe, a formidable weapon capable of obliterating anything struck by it. Magic spiralled and coalesced into the weapon, and the blade gleamed with hues of arcane power imbued within.

"Aaaaargh!" Inanna's grip tightened around the hilt, her muscles tensed in preparation. With a swift motion, she swung the blade in a wide arc, aiming directly at the cage. The weapon's enchanted edge sliced through the air with a sharp whistle.

AZAERA​

 

[Bloody_Death]

SUZUKI KAIDA & KAI NAKAYAMA

“Rude. That's what I'm doing.” Wanga spoke with a dramatic pout as the Foxian hero practically hissed at him. But his attention never tore away from Tibby and Eleanor. With the help of nurse Kaida, he was making great progress on actually healing them without having to worry about them throwing up to death.

Kai, on the other hand, was one more reckless action away from having an aneurysm. Only silently agreeing with Freyr and his annoyed cursing. However, with more heroes joining their team comes with more support during fights. Leaving Kai to only have to focus on bringing the injured back towards him and Wanga before they could rot away. Thankfully, Wanga and Kai’s spells were enough to not immediately cause those who have now caught the plague to instantly begin rotting away like Tiberius, it was still of the utmost importance to clear the plague from their systems as quickly as possible! Assisting with bringing the closer wounded mages back while Mei and some others brought back ones that were further away.

Time seemed to move slowly for the kitsune. Her eyes fluttered rapidly, batting away the tears while hoping each blink would reveal a different view — one that didn’t show her dear friend in a grave state. Kaida fixated on his breathing, tuning out the surrounding sounds; selfish as it may be, nothing else mattered to her at the moment. She was completely oblivious to Nergal’s attempt to target Wanga and had it not been for Eleanor and her god’s intervention, she would have been caught in the crossfire.

The moment she witnessed Tiberius’ eyes open, reality resumed. Her perception of time ticked forward at its usual pace and the sounds of battle flooded her eardrums. She had snapped out of her grief-stricken state; her heart swelled with relief as she mustered a smile, holding his revitalized gaze. Her ears twitched almost in delight to hear him speak, more concerned with the clear indicator of his stabilizing health rather than the curiosity of what his next words would be.

Her eyes widened upon registering his confession. The tightening of her chest prevented her from speaking immediately as she simply stared back at him in shock. A rush of emotions bombarded her, overwhelming her mind. She parted her lips slightly, unsure of how to properly respond. “Tiberius…” She managed to breathe out but her confidence wavered and her voice was drowned out by the chaos around them. Kaida watched him rise to his feet and rejoin the battle yet her body remained frozen by his words.

‘Am I invisible?’ Was the only thing Wanga thought of as he watched the confessions happening right before his eyes. He glanced over at Kai, who was nearby healing some of the other mages who were brought here, and the two locked eyes. Wearing the same shocked expression before mouthing the exact same phrase at each other.

'About time'

“No problem gladiator! Glad to see you up and running again. I slapped on a protective enhancement on you, while it won’t fully protect you from Nergal, it should at least slow the spread should you get hit again.” Wanga waved the man off before quickly standing up. He glanced at the Foxian hero as a very concerning grin graced his face. “Time to wake up, Princess~” And with that, a nice firm slap was placed on the girl’s cheek. One that he made sure would sting for a little bit. Was this so he could put the protective spell on her? Of course! Was this personal for being hissed at earlier? That’s to be determined.

“I get the man you totally weren’t dating for the past few months just confessed to you and it was super cute, but you better get yourself moving before Inari gets on your case. Celebrate when we’re not fighting for our lives, kay? Also tell Inari she should come help us out. And make sure to invite me and Kai to the wedding.” He gave a thumbs up. Giving the fox a very bouncy pat before making his way over to Kai to relax and play nurse for him! He’d make sure to help those who were infected by the plague the most, but if Kai seemed like he could handle it, he’d leave it to him and focus on expanding the size of AoE sigil now that he wasn’t in emergency surgery mode and could focus on increasing his reach.

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Interactions: Bloody_Death (Kai) || Beann (Kaida) || Worthlessplebian (Tibby)

Mentions: Mei || Freyr || Anyone nearby