For the Hate of God

The battle of Oribus

-Amaaralva forest, three weeks later-

Kandreah’s POV

My best warriors were prowling around through the northern boundary of Amaaralva. We were just a few steps behind the pack of Lycans and the army of faes led by Malleteagan and Thersar. They were leading the attack, as agreed. The thick, rich forest of sturdy old oak trees became scarcer, and shrubbery and bushes were more prominent as we advanced towards Amaaralva’s boundary with Oribus territory. The woods were wrapped in the dense fog of midnight. The eeriness of the abandoned landscape of Amaaralva was even more emphasised by the remnants of the magic of fallen Thessalians that could be easily smelled in the air. Following the mas.sacre of Thessalians, their physical presence might have faded away. However, their magic lingered thickly in the hazy, sharp air of Amaaralva.

Although a supernatural creature myself, able to muster dribs and drabs of black magic, I cannot escape the sensation of Amaaralva being creepy, cringe and cursed. I don’t get it. How can Malleteagan walk so calmly through this forest, given his history with Amaaralva land? At the end of the day, he is the one who caused the car.nage and mas.sacre of Thessalians. He, however, looked satisfied, as if he was experiencing some sort of nirvana-driven bliss. Throng of his beasts looked more bloodthirsty than my vampire fae warriors. Amaaralva forest became scarcer, and as we got closer to the boundary of the two realms, Thessalian territory looked more like a barren, hollow glen ending with a bleak abyss.

As we approached the abyss, the transparent shield that divided Amaaralva and Oribus came into sight. Thersar made a circular movement with his hand. He murmured invocation, and a vortex of citrine edges that pixelated in thousands of different tones of citrine mottles transpired and swirled towards the armour of the main entrance to Oribus. Thersar’s magic shone in the spectacular outburst of neon lime transparent swirls blended with subtle figments of shadows of black magic and necromancy. It broke the protective shield of Oribus. Our warriors stealthily slunk through the portal, killing the forsaken guards of Oribus with chthonic blades made by Nexelex in the process. As forsaken got in contact with the chthonic blades, they would instantly dissipate, their souls and powers absorbed within the blade. Although we were with over 90 thousand warriors, we glided through Oribus silently and sleekly, with no victims on our end nor resistance from Oribian forsaken so far.

And then, she showed up…looking more demented and hideous than I remember. The last time we saw each other was centuries ago. I shuddered at that memory with bile. Disgust and loathe flooded over me. Her ember batwings were decorated slatternly with blazing feathers and flickers of amethyst electricity zaps. Her body was charred with embers and fierce fire cracks that bled in neon flickers of ruby and purple, wrapped with the transparent whirl of obsidian smoke. Her hair, whipped up in a slovenly mane of fire, orbiting bizarrely around her manky hideous face, was winning the fight against gravity and was standing upright. Each blazing strand of her hair danced in its own rhythm, although there was no wind. Lesions over her wrinkled face were exposing her magmatic skeleton. She looked like a ravenous, raged beast readied to devour us in one gulp without chewing. Then she shrieked in surreal high-pitched yodel-roar; it sounded like screams of a million tormented souls merged in one deviant and deformed sound. That sound did justice in matching the audio experience of Sentaya with her morbid, banshee-like physical appearance.

All of us, Lycans, elemental faes and vampires alike, fell to our knees, and blood started spouting out of our ears. My head started spinning, and pain radiated throughout my chest. I guess it would be the same feeling as having an infarct and a stroke all in one. I mean, if a vampire would have a beating heart to get an infarct. It felt like my head was about to explode. A few Lycans and my vampire warriors near me have actually exploded. The guts and brains of fallen Lycans spluttered and soaked the battlefield soil.

I have heard Malleteagan’s earth-shattering, ear-splitting roar before he fell unconscious on the ground, blood poured from his ears, eyes and nose. I understand what happened to him. He felt pain from Sentaya’s wrath, but he also felt the pain of severing his pack bond tether with fallen Lycans.

I understood it as I felt the same pain as warriors from my coven started to fall and explode around me, spraying blood and guts throughout the grounds of Oribus before dissipating in gusts of dust. Each of their deaths seemed like a new fatal blow to my body. They were my creations at the end of the day, my children, you could even say. As I fell on the ground, groaning in pain, I saw elemental faes facing the same destiny. The last time I opened my eyes, after another series of Sentaya’s lethal shrieks, I noticed that the only ones standing were Thersar and a few faes, whom I knew had necromancy powers. They were cutting through forsaken with chthonic weapons as hot knives cut through butter and were steadily advancing to Sentaya. She was overly focused on Thersar and necromancers. So much so that she did not notice Nexelex and dwarves swarming behind her. They were somehow also unaffected by her waves of ultrasonic shrieks and necromancy.

To me, it was all in a blur, as I was barely alive, lying on the floor and gurgling the blood mixed with my venom. I don’t think I can hold on for much longer. The deaths of my warriors and her shrieks are taking a toll on me, although Sentaya’s other abilities do not touch me as I am a necromancer, too. One of the things I clearly saw while lying helpless on the ground and writhing in pain was Nexelex sidling behind Sentaya.

He sprung his little body from the ground and jumped up on Sentaya’s back with the chthonic axe in his right hand. He clutched her neck with his left hand like a boa constrictor. Sentaya seethed and snarled, trying to get him off, swatting with her arms and wings like she was trying to swat off an annoying little fly, but he clung to her like a little chipmunk on a tree.

He yelled mockingly: “Oi, Leech!” he flaunted, looking down at me. Little plonker is taking his sweet time blowing the trumpet while I am literally on the deathbed and on the ground of sleazy Oribus of all the bloody places where I could have died.

“…you and mongrel can eat your own words!” he boasted and screamed at me and Malleteagan with pride and glee. “Do you wanna have a quick shooftie on who is the tall one and above you now? “ he grinned while Sentaya tried to swat him off her neck by flailing and thrashing with her arms and wings. She also added salt to my already wounded, bleeding ears with a new series of ultrasonic screams.

“Oi! Ultrasonic flappy winged nan!” Nexelex said and slashed the axe into one of her wings; as her blood exploded across Oribus, together with the wing that crumpled on the muddy, blood-soaked floor of Oribus's battlefield. Sentaya snarled and shrieked in pain.

“Oh fu,ck,” I thought to myself, “my head is going to burst and shatter. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Oi, bat nana, this midget is now going to tailor your wobbly wings, before we take your old ass for a bath in that reeking river of yours!” he cackled with delight while sticking an axe into the other wing and axing her neck from behind with next move. Sentaya fell to the ground and dissipated in thick purple-grey smoke.

Nexelex fell to the ground. As she evaporated from Oribus, I somewhat recovered from her assaults. Malleteagan was also slowly regaining consciousness but was still audibly gasping for air on the floor. Blood was still spouting from his ears abundantly. Corpses of Lycans, non-necromancer faes and vampires littered the battlefield. The mass.acre was of horrific magnitude. Wolves were howling, and vampires and faes were wailing for their lost mates. Few remaining forsaken were swiftly slayed by warriors with Chthonic weapons, but our loss was also grave.

I stood up and looked at the morbid scenery surrounding us. Nexelex was next to me.

“All this nonsense about size and strength. You would have all died today if there were no dwarves and faes,” he scoffed, swelling with pride and importance. Then he gave a hand to Malleteagan.

“Well, little lad, we won a battle but not a war. Let me remind you that there are still high-ranked fighters in Oribus. And when we defeat them, we have eight more levels of Wengarthria to fight to win the war.” Malleteagan said.

As he said those words, rumble and roar could have been heard from the depths of Oribus. In a blink of an eye Denexus transpired looking livid; he was accompanied by rabid Kerberos who was snarling beside him. Both looked straight ahead in our direction. Veins dilated in Denexus’ eyes, his gaze raw and pure fury, his nostrils flapping up and down, shooting gusts of air. He looked like a bull in a toreador arena, ready to kill the matador.

Kerberos and Denexus leapt towards Nexelex while Malleteagan and I made a shield with our bodies to protect him. I lunged on Denexus while Malleteagan sprung and pounced on Kerberos. We worked in odd interspecies unity, attacking them simultaneously and understanding each other without an uttered word. I wouldn't mind his presence and company if he wasn’t an obnoxious wolf and we weren’t innate natural enemies. One thing cannot be denied: Malleteagan was one hell of a fighter. Although Kerberos’ essence is what effectively Malleteagan’s wolf is made of, making him a remote descendant of Kerberos, he has no issues pummeling him left, right and centre. He is a swift and brazen but calculated warrior. It would have been a helluva fight if I’d spar with Malleteagan. Now, we worked in a glorious symbiosis. While he was ripping off the heads of Kerberos, one by one, I was beating the s**t out of Denexus. Denexus is a decent fighter but not even a close match for me. With him, the only trick is to mind that he doesn’t touch you with his arms, as this is how he takes your soul and captures it in Oribus. He is a minor underworld demigod, and Sentaya is more powerful than him. So, he is not an actual threat, at least not to me.

While I dealt with Denexus and Malleteagan with Kerberos, Thersar and Nexelex led the warriors in the clash with a new bout of forsaken, who came with Kerberos and Denexus. This seemed a piece of cake for them, as Chthonic weaponry is made of the essence of Chthonic deities. And, as Thersar and Nexelex explained, everything with a chthonic core within will be absorbed within the weapons. The strength of destruction caused by the weapon will rise with each new substance being assimilated. It will vary depending on how powerful the chthonic being was. Given that forsaken are made of the chthonic essence of masters of Oribus, this was an easy fight for Thersar, Nexelex and warriors.

That’s it. I had my fair share of fun in battering Denexus. Given that I don’t want to mar my palate with Denexus’ blood, I have pulled out Kris chthonic daggers and cut both of his hands in a quick motion. He fell to his knees, snarling and groaning. In yet another brisk move, I stuck both daggers in his chest. And the essence of Denexus was sucked in my kris daggers.

I glanced at Malleteagan. He was still fighting Kerberos. He ripped off two of his heads. The head of the bloodhound in the centre was still there. Although Kerberos seemed weak and worn off, he was still fighting. Finally, Malleteagan knocked him down and was just about to bite his head off. Then I heard the last living head of Kerberos laughing at Malleteagan with a rumbling baritone: “… you can run from your destiny, but you cannot hide mutt. It doesn’t matter if you kill me now. Remember, I will always live in you. I am a part of you; I am you. You are made of me. I am that animal that writhes for blood within your body. I will always live until you and the last one of your kind lives.”

I shuddered at those words for an unknown reason. The next moment, Malleteagan stuck his claws into Kerberos’ heart and ripped it out of his chest. While Kerberos was falling down, Malleteagan severed his head with haste and calculated movement of his claws.

A massive three-headed bloodhound beast ceased to exist while his remains and blood continued to flow and soak the soil of Oribus. Oribus existed no more. The remaining servants and minor demons flee after they surrender. Our next target was Damnarynth, the next level of Wengarthria.