27 comments/ 8302 views/ 42 favorites Ultimate Assassin Saga: Escape By: Undersought Chapter 1 Trissieal flapped her long white feathered wings, gliding over the beautiful white puffy clouds below. There was nothing but clouds for several miles. There were other Angels like her flying over the clouds of Paradise and many of them greeted her, bowing their heads to their Queen. Also, walking atop the solid clouds were the guards of Paradise, the Titans. However, she knew that Paradise didn't truly need protectors. After all, who would dare to break into Paradise and try to hurt anyone? That would be a suicide run if she'd ever heard one. She was a tall, around five foot ten or eleven, and voluptuous Angel. She hand long fire red hair that fell to the middle of her back unrestrained and moon silver eyes that glowed out of an ivory; girlishly beautiful face. She wore a long sleeve white tunic with gold embroidery around the collar, cuffs, and chest of her tunic, and a pair of white velvet slippers on her dainty feet. Her wingspan was as large as she was tall and they were powerful, but she was nowhere near being the most beautiful Angel in Paradise. However, she was the only one that had been picked by the King and had become the Queen of Paradise. At the thought of King Loki, she sighed and shook her head. She knew that she should be happy that the King had chosen her for his bride, but she wasn't. She'd been married to the man for over a century and still she felt nothing for him. When she'd first married him, she'd told herself that she would learn to love him and everything would be fine. However, it was more than one hundred years later and still she felt nothing for the man. It wasn't his fault because he was a perfectly nice man, but she just didn't love him and there was no reason for her not to. Well, except for one and she had a feeling that that one reason was the real reason that she had never fallen in love with Loki. The Angel Queen glided over the clouds a little slower now as she fell into her thoughts and she didn't see anything even as she dodged past the other Angels that flew above the clouds as well. Shortly after she'd been chosen as the King's bride, she'd taken a trip to the Mortal Plane and it had been there that she had met someone that she could lose. However, it was forbidden for two reasons. The first reason was that she was already married and the vows of an Angel couldn't be broken no matter what. The second reason was that the man that she'd fallen in love with was not of the Mortal Plane, but of the Abyss. Simple translation, he was a Demon. Trissieal didn't dare think his name for fear of someone hearing it. There were several Psionics among the Angel and Titan ranks with the specialty of reading minds. However, there was a law that prevented the Psionics from reading the minds of others without their consent and anyone that betrayed that law was executed. Once the law had been put into place, they had stopped invading one another's privacy and not one had been executed for the crime. Some had come close, but not one of them had been killed and she felt relieved over that. She wasn't one of those Psionics, but she was able to put a mental wall in front of her thoughts to protect herself. The Angel knew that mental wall was the only thing that kept her safe and she was glad for it. Then, her thoughts turned to her son and she clenched her jaw. Nykrian was the most precious thing in her life and she would destroy anyone who dared to attempt to harm him. She knew that her son was far more powerful than herself and that he could defend himself perfectly, but it was her maternal instinct that made her want to protect him. There was only one thing that she didn't like and that was her son's emotionless all the time. It bothered her for some reason, though she couldn't put her finger on as to why. The Prince had been trained by the best of the best and it showed when he sparred. Granted, he might never need his skills, but he still drove to be the best. It was his goal and one that he was easily meeting. He could defeat up to ten Titans at a time now and that was a feet no Angel was capable of, no matter how powerful. Not even Loki was capable of such a feat, but it was just that that worried her. After all, if he became too powerful then people might start to ask questions and the fact that he looked nothing like Loki would probably come up. That would not be the best question to come up because she wouldn't be able to answer with all honesty that Nykrian was indeed Loki's son. The Angel Queen began to fly in a circle in the air, slowly descending towards the clouds. Being an Angel, she would be able to set foot on the clouds and not fall through. Anyone who wasn't suppose to be there would fall through the clouds and into the Mortal Plane. It was the Mortal Plane that the Angels and Titans watched over. However, they couldn't influence the Mortal Plane in any way unless they left Paradise and there power was greatly diminished whenever they left Paradise. There power was stripped low so the Mortal Plane could handle their level of power. Angels and Titans were just short of beings Deities after all and the Mortal Plane couldn't handle Gods walking the planet. Trissieal felt her slipper clad feet touch the clouds and it remained like a pedestal instead of her falling through. She tucked her long white feathered wings tightly against her back and she ran a hand through her long red hair. She shouldn't have been thinking about the things that she was thinking of, but for some reason, she simply couldn't help it. It had been a long time since she'd thought of the early days and the true parentage of her son. If Nykrian were to ever find out that he was only half Angel and that his other half was Demon, she feared that he would hate her and he would have every right to. After all, she'd lied to him his entire life and that was the ultimate betrayal. However, that wouldn't stop her love for her son. She would always love him, no matter what. The Angel looked off in the distance and a smile broke over her face when she saw the structure in the distance. It was the only building in all of the cloud filled Realm of Paradise and so it stuck out like a sore thumb. However, because of it's beauty, many loved it and called the place home. The estate was sprawling and constructed of gold like it were stone. It was several hundreds of stories high with a powerful spire in the very center which hinted at the inner sanctum and she knew that all the Realms power resided in that one place. In front of the estate was white marble platform, and even though most didn't know why that existed, she did. It was for when an Angel or Titan was being cast out after their wings had been clipped. To become a Fallen Angel was a shameful and horrible thing. It marked you as the ultimate criminal to the Angel Courts and everyone had contempt, if not outright hatred, for you. To become a Fallen, you had to go beyond even Treason where death wasn't punishment enough for you. The King himself presided over the clipping of the wings of the Fallen, but he didn't have to do it very often. However, no one would guess that he secretly enjoyed it, but she knew because she knew her husband. When your wings were clipped, your Angelic power was stripped at the same time, and even though you still had your wings when on the Mortal Plane, your power was nearly non existent compared to what it had been before, though still more powerful than most mortal beings. The Angel Queen frowned when she watched a large contingent of Titan guards leaving the large double doors of the palace and they seemed ready to go to war. What was going on that she hadn't been told about? She hated it when her husband left her out of things to protect her and she wasn't going to have it. She began to walk, striding towards the Titans, and much to her surprise, they didn't slow or try to avoid her. In fact, they walked faster towards her and their faces were empty of all emotion. Then, the Titans had surrounded her before she knew it and she frowned as she looked around at them, wondering just what the hell was going on. It was completely unheard of for the Titans to act this way with an Angel unless ordered to do so by the Angel King himself. If that was true, then why would they be acting this way towards her? She was their Queen for Gods sake! She looked to the Titan directly in front of her, looking straight into the face that was empty of all emotion and his eyes were similarly devoid of all emotion. He vaguely reminded her of her son, but this man was merely cold and not protecting himself. She wanted answers and she was going to get them, no matter what. "What is the meaning of this?" Trissieal asked in an annoyed; haughty voice. She didn't usually use that tone, but this was definitely a special circumstance. She could feel the other Titans that surrounded her shifting anxiously, obviously not wanting to be where they were. However, the one that she was staring right at and giving the full strength of her glare seemed unfazed by her anger. She straightened her spine and she raised her head to hold it in a regal stance, waiting for him to answer. "Queen Trissieal, you are to be brought to King Loki under chains. If you resist, the use of lethal force is authorized. So please, come peacefully." the Titan replied, his voice empty of all emotion. He didn't seem to care one way or another about what he was saying and that was what made him a good Titan guard. They couldn't afford to allow their emotions to get in the way and this man wasn't allowing his personal feelings towards her - if he had any - to get in the way of his performing his duties. However, she was outraged by his words and she found herself wondering as to why she would be detained at the behest of her husband. The Angel Queen knew that she could probably break free and attempt to escape. However, she knew that that wouldn't be the best thing for her to do. Whatever she was charged with might not be that bad, but fleeing was even worse. Plus, fleeing was resisting and he'd told her that they would kill her if she resisted. She didn't like it, but she had no choice and she knew that she had to give in. She nodded her head in acquiescence of his orders and she waited for what he would do. He reached behind his back, pulling out a pair of iron bracelets that she knew were magicked to contain her. She held out her hands obediently and he snapped the iron bracelets around her slender wrists. The Titan nodded his head and he turned around sharply. Then, he walked ahead of her and she felt the other Titans walking beside her, driving her on. She knew that she had no choice so she began to walk and she felt her chest tightening with her worry. What could she possibly be charged with that would warrant such actions against her? Surely she hadn't done anything that warranted this treatment of her. Then, a thought occurred to her and she cringed, secretly hoping that she was wrong, but it was the only thing that she could think of that was relevant of her actions. This was more than likely over her son and his true heritage. However, she wouldn't confess to it until she heard the actual charges. No reason to out herself without knowing first what she was charged with. As she was drawn closer to the palace - the place that she'd called home all of her life - Trissieal felt her spine grow ramrod straight and her pride fill her. If she was going down, then she was going down with pride. She wouldn't bend a knee to her husband and apologize. After all, to apologize would to apologize for Nykrian's birth and she wouldn't do that. He was the best thing that had come into her life and she would never apologize for him, no matter what. With resolve filling her, the Angel Queen stepped up onto the marble platform in front of the palace and the Titans lead her towards the palace doors. They lead her towards her future. XXXXXXXXXX Trissieal stood in her room, her hands chained together with the iron bracelets and she stared out the tempered glass window upon the clouds of Paradise. Hours had passed, but still it was daylight outside. Angels didn't need any sleep even though they did often indulge in it, and because of this, it was perpetual daylight all the time. However, there was no sun in the sky. The light came from the power of all Angels and Titans within the Realm of Paradise along with the power of their ultimate God, the Sun God, Ra. However, their God didn't live among them and chose instead to give them full reign over Paradise with only a cursory eye every now and again watching over them. Ra, the God of the Sun, was the oldest and most powerful of the Gods of Light. He'd presided over the other Gods of Light since time began and he'd been the one to call them all too order so they could create. It was because of Ra that life began on every single Plane of existence that there was and everyone venerated him for that. No matter if one world was destroyed, he would still have another planet or Realm full of followers. He was a kind God, and even though he never appeared upon the Mortal Plane, those who lived upon the Mortal Plane knew that he existed. The Angel Queen had been brought to her room immediately without any sort of explanation. She'd asked for one, but she hadn't got what she wanted. She was no longer seen as their Queen. She was under suspicion for something and they wouldn't even tell her what it was. No, instead they told her that King Loki would be the one to inform her of the charges against her. After all, it had been King Loki who had levied the charges against her in the first place. It was because of this that she was nearly one hundred percent certain as to what the charges were. There wasn't much that she could've done so she was one hundred percent certain what the charges were. She sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat. The only question she had in her mind was how. How had he discovered that Nykrian wasn't his? She'd managed to keep it from him for over one hundred years and she'd never slipped, not once. Of course, it was quite obvious from his looks that he wasn't Loki's child. After all, what was the chance of two redheads having a boy with midnight black hair? Nykrian did have her moon silver eyes, but his coloring was also like his real fathers. Then, there was his power and sheer force of will. That was a dead giveaway to anyone looking and she knew that many people had been investigating it over the years, though they'd mostly kept silent in public about it. The Angel turned from the window when she heard the sound of the door to her room opening. She knew that someone wouldn't just come to the room of the accused so she knew that it had to be someone come to get her. Standing in the doorway was the original Titan who had arrested her and dragged her to her room, placing a guard outside the room so she wouldn't flee. His being here could only mean one thing: they were ready for her presence. Trissieal took a deep breath and let out a long; slow breath to steady her nerves. Then, she blanked her features of all emotion and she walked across the floor of her room towards the Titan. The guard stepped aside to allow her to step out of the room into the hallway, but he didn't move to free her of her shackles. After all, she was still a prisoner in her own home and that wasn't going to change right away. No, she was going to be escorted to the audience chamber more than likely and face her supposed crimes. They weren't crimes that truly brought bodily or spiritual harm, but it did bring emotional harm, though little it probably was when it came to her husband. The Titan closed the door to her room and he walked in front of her, leading her down the empty hallway. The floors were covered in a thick plush dark colored carpet, and while she walked, she ignored the heavy tapestries that decorated the walls. The Angel had seen them too many times and she knew them well. They were mostly paintings that showed the battles that Loki had gone through, but there were others of the Gods of Light with Ra at the forefront of those paintings. Showing love for one's patron God - and in their case, creator - was something that they could all agree with, no matter if you were an Angel, Titan, or one of the beings of the many other Realms. Before she knew it, they were in front of the double doors that lead into the audience chamber. The Angel Queen could sense her husband on the other side of the door and she could sense his anger. However, she could also sense her son, and like always, she was unable to feel anything from him. He was one of the most closed off people that she'd ever known and that reflected even in his dangerous aura. His aura was nothing like the man that had thought for one hundred years that he was his father, but it had taken her husband many years before he'd finally managed to figure it out. Oh well, things had to come to a head. The Titan Guard pushed open the double doors and he stepped aside, allotting her to go inside alone. The Angel looked at the man before she stepped into the room and her foot steps echoed off of the white marble of the room. The doors closed behind her and she knew that they would be locked, preventing any escape. However, she would've never attempted to escape. She walked swiftly to the center of the room and she stopped there, looking up at her husband sitting upon his throne. At each window that looked out upon the Realm of Paradise, there was a Titan Guard who was armored and well armed. They would prevent anyone from escaping here. She turned her head and she looked upon Nykrian who stood beside the dais, but he was facing the throne as well, his back to her, but he seemed to be on trial as well. He was tall, around six foot five, and muscular. He had long midnight black hair that fell just past his shoulders in a high ponytail and moon silver eyes that glowed out of a bronze; emotionless face. He wore a long sleeve black leather tunic, skin tight black leather pants, knee high black leather boots, and a black leather belt with a Devablade sheathed at both of his hips. Devablades were powerful weapons that were forged of the holy light itself and had the ability to slice through everything no matter what, Demons especially. The handles of the Devablades were cylindrical and silver. The hilt was a thin piece of silver that ran horizontally and the blades were about two feet long. The blade was doubled sided and razor sharp. A Devablade was coveted by it's wielder, but Angels were mostly the one's that used the weapons and Titans used broadswords or battleaxes. Trissieal turned her eyes away from them and he raised his eyes to her husband sitting upon his throne, taking in his features. He was short, around five foot five, and slender. He had short dark red hair that he wore swept back from his forehead and glowing blue eyes set in an ivory; regal face. The King wore a long sleeve white tunic with golden fastenings up the front, loose fitting white trousers, ankle high black leather boots, and a black leather belt with a broadsword sheathed at his left hip. She knew Loki quite well and she knew that it wasn't his broadsword that she had to worry about if it came down to it. No, she would have to worry about his spells which ranged from healing the most grievous of wounds to the most tormenting bone breaker spell. Loki was a powerful Mage and he'd never hesitated when he needed to use his spells to drive back warriors from attacking him. There were murals to him deeply entrenched in battle hanging on the walls of this palace and she was sure there were some on the Mortal Plane as well, but they probably didn't understand the significance of the painting they held. "You have been brought here to be brought up on charges that I myself am levying against you." King Loki said, his voice empty of all emotion. Then, he placed his hands on the arms of his throne and he pushed to his feet. He straightened the cuffs of his tunic and he raised his chin in a regal manner. He made no move towards her, but that wasn't what was on her mind. No, what was on her mind was trying to slow her heart before it pounded out of her chest. She felt like her heart was about to break free of her chest, but she knew that was impossible. "The charges are as followed: deception of the Crown and placing a false Heir in hopes to usurp the Realm of Paradise." Ultimate Assassin Saga: Escape The Angel Queen felt like her world had dropped out from under her. These were serious crimes that she was being charged with. Treasonous crimes that could get her killed. She couldn't even deny them because she had lied to him by omission and allowed him to think that Nykrian was his. Even though she didn't want to usurp the Crown of Paradise, she could see how it would look that way and she knew that she couldn't fight that charge either. At thoughts of her son, she turned to look at him, but she saw that he hadn't moved in the least and his aura didn't hint at anything. The Angel King walked down the dais, descending the stairs and walking towards her. She straightened her spine and she kept her mouth shut. It wouldn't do to speak with him and anger him anymore than he already was. He was the one in charge of sentencing her and she didn't want to end up dead. She saw Nykrian turn his head to watch the Angel King and his eyes were empty of all emotion. He stopped in front of her and she could see that his face was beet red with anger. "You have embarrassed me and I will not stand for it." Loki gritted out angrily. His eyes snapped and crackled with his rage. His blue eyes were dark and filled with hatred as he stared at her. Before she could react, she saw the blur of his hand coming towards her. She closed her eyes and waited for the slap to come. Several seconds later, she felt no pain and she frowned. She peeked open one of her eyes and she gasped at the sight that was presented to her when she did open her eyes. The Angel Prince had caught the other man's wrist in a tight grip and his face was filled with rage. Then, as she watched, he threw the Angel King back several feet. The Angel King skidded across the ground before stopping at the foot of the dais and he looked up with rage filling his eyes once more. However, she could see the shock that was in the back of his gaze and he seemed unready to counterattack him. However, she noted that several of the Angel Guards had drawn their Devablades, each one of their faces blank of all emotion and ready to dive into battle. "You will not harm my mother." Nykrian said, his voice calm and sure. He stood ramrod straight, blocking her from his sight, but he hadn't drawn his own Devablades. He probably should have because Loki wasn't well known for his patience and he wasn't well known for allowing people to get into his way. However, Nykrian had been his son for over one hundred years and it was quite possible that he was feeling some residual fatherly pride in him, however unlikely that might be. "You have a choice, Nykrian." the Angel King replied, his voice strained and angry. He dusted his shoulder and he stared at the man who had been his son for a century. His blue eyes were empty of their rage now and his face was now devoid of all emotion. It would seem that he had regained some sort of composure. He raised a hand and signaled to the Angel Guards. She saw that they obviously wanted to move forward and cut through them, but they merely sheathed their weapons as was their Lord's order. Then, he turned his attention back to the two of them. "You have a choice. You can remain here as my son and Heir to the Throne or you can face the same punishment that your mother faces." "I will stand with my mother." the Angel Prince shot back immediately without hesitation. Trissieal smiled with pride at her son's answer right away. However, she knew that this could be very bad. They were more than likely facing death and she didn't want her son to die. No, she wanted him to live, even if that meant staying with the man who would kill his mother. She knew that Nykrian wouldn't like it, but she had no choice. She had to make sure that her son was okay. She opened her mouth to speak, to convince her son otherwise, but she was stopped by the Angel King's sigh. It was heavy and regretful. "Your punishment is a harsh one. You shall have your wings clipped and you will become one of the Fallen." Loki said regretfully. She felt a pang of fear and dread in her heart, but it only increased when he lifted a single hand, pointing at them. Then, she felt a surge of power pour through her, ripping her apart from the inside and she cried out in pain. She slowly sank to her knees, placing her face in her hands and tried to stifle her screams of pain, but she couldn't. She could feel her power being stripped away from her, leaving her a shell of her former self and making her into a mortal. She was able to see through her tears and saw that her son was completely unaffected. He was still standing and wasn't screaming in pain. It seemed that the Angel King was trying to get him to kneel and cry out in pain, but she knew - even throughout her torment - that he wouldn't. He wasn't like her after all. Her son was only half Angel and stripping that power away from him would mean little to him when he had so much power through his Demon blood still coursing through his veins. Just as quickly as it started, the pain receded, but the effect of it was no less devastating. Trissieal still held some of her power, but it was a miniscule amount compared to what she'd had before. Your average Angel child could slap her aside as if she was but a flea now. Panting in pain, she allowed her hands to slip from her face and she felt the stinging of her sweat pouring into her eyes from the pain. She had too much pride to remain on her knees and she knew that she had to rise to her feet, but she couldn't seem to make her body move. Then, Loki waved a hand and six of the Angel Guards moved away from the windows, moving towards the two Fallen. "You are to be cast out immediately. You will regret this, Nykrian." the Angel King said, his voice devoid of all emotion. He was all business now and his feelings had no place in business. She stared at the two men as they faced one another down, but her son showed nothing on his face as he stared at the man that he'd called father. Still she could sense nothing from her son and he didn't seem surprised by the fact that the man wasn't his father for some reason. Had he known all along? She supposed that wasn't important at this time. After all, they were being cast out of Paradise. The Angel Queen gritted her teeth and she rose to her feet slowly, her knees straining. When she was standing tall once again, she straightened her spine and she stared into his eyes, glaring at him. She had never - and would never - feel love for the man. This only topped it off completely and she didn't hate him, but she didn't really care. The Angel Guards surrounded them and she knew that they were the one's that were guiding them out. She glared one more time into the eyes of the Angel King before she turned around and walked willingly from the room with the guards following her, her son close behind. They weaved through the hallways left and right until they came to the front doors of the palace once more. Trissieal knew that this was the last time that she would be in the home that she'd lived in all her life. Then, the Angel Guards opened the double doors and lead the two of them out onto the metal platforms. She stopped at the edge of the platform and she gritted her teeth as she stared down into the fluffy white clouds of Paradise. She knew that as a Fallen Angel, she wouldn't be able to step onto the clouds and not fall through. No, as a Fallen, the moment her feet touched the clouds, she would fall through and plummet to the Mortal Plane. She would survive the Fall of course, but she would be vulnerable even with her son at her side. The Angel Queen turned to look at her son and he stared into her eyes. His moon silver eyes held no fear and that lack of fear in her son bolstered her own courage. She'd been to the Mortal Plane before, but that didn't mean that she knew the entire land. No, the only part that she'd been to had been the Central Continent and she was hoping that that was where she would Fall. They would have enemies coming after them, but she could only hope that her son would be able to protect her long enough. She wasn't weak, but she wasn't a warrior and she didn't fool herself into believing that she could take on anything that came at her. "Go." the Angel Guard at her side ordered in a stern voice. She took a deep breath and blew out in a long; steadying breath. Then, she stepped off the platform and she closed her eyes as she fell through the clouds of Paradise, falling to the Mortal Plane. She could feel the power of the portal around her as she passed through the Veil between Worlds and she wished that she knew what was waiting for her. If she had known what was waiting, she would've welcomed Falling to the Mortal Plane. Chapter 2 Acheron walked slowly down the black stone streets of the capitol city of Dalkia. This was but one city in the huge Empire of Dalkia and there were hundreds of others, mostly smaller than the capitol. The city was filled with Demons of all Flights, the Dark Races - Orcs, Ogres, Goblins, Minotaurs, Gorgons, Nightflyers - and even Humans or Elves of different castes. However, the Humans and Elves were not like the rest of their brothers of blood. To survive in Dalkia, they had to be cut throat and expect a knife in the back from anyone, even the closest of friends. That was how they all survive because everyone schemed and everyone wanted to move up in the ranks. He was huge, over seven foot tall, and heavily muscled with large arms and broad shoulders. He had long midnight black hair that fell to the small of his back in a single; thick braid and emerald green eyes set in a bronzed; roguishly handsome face. He wore a long sleeve black tunic with silver fastenings up the front and silver piping around the stiff collar and the sleeves, black linen trousers, knee high black leather boots, and a black leather belt with a huge broadsword sheathed at his left hip. He was a Chaos Demon which made him among one of the most powerful caste of Demons, but there were those that were more powerful, though not many. The Chaos Demon was a well respected and feared individual in the Empire of Dalkia because of his rank as well as who he was related to. He was the Command Assassin of Dalkia which made him deadly and revered, but there were those who would see him dead. After all, the only way for one to become the Command Assassin was to kill the previous one and take his place. He was the first Command Assassin of Dalkia and he had no intention of giving up his rank any time soon. All that was well and good, but there was another thing that made him feared by the people. He was the younger brother of the Emperor himself. Many people of course thought that Acheron was only the Command Assassin because of who his brother was. However, that was the furthest thing from the truth and most of them knew that. It was the young upstarts who had crawled out of the Abyss and hadn't been there when he had helped carved out the Empire with his own blade that thought that he was truly weak. When they graduated from talking behind his back and decided to take action, he showed them just how wrong they were. The Chaos Demon was brought from his reverie when the sound of thunder boomed through the air and he looked up into the sky. The sky was blood red and every now and again there was black lightning that forked across the sky. There were no clouds in the sky, but the sky of Dalkia wasn't a natural occurrence. No, it had been magicked that way by Mages that they'd brought through after they'd come through and had decided to create their Empire here. They had created a huge force and a huge empire that spread across the eastern part of the Central Continent, creating an evil Empire that all feared. Their natural enemy was Manathera, the Human Empire that was far to the west and they were a powerful force to put them off. The Command Assassin didn't mind the Humans and he really didn't have any kind of opinion of them. They were weak creatures, but he had seen over the years the traits that lead them to the power that they now were. At one time, the Humans had been ignorant beings hiding in their caves and doing their best to avoid the other; more developed races. However, they had bred into a huge number, and somehow, they had found a funnel of magic. With that, they became even smarter and more skilled with blades that they were able to move out of their caves to create true constructs of central power. He shook himself from his reverie and he lowered his head to stare at the streets. There were few beings on the streets, but he knew that each of them were dangerous and could mean a knife in his back. He was a difficult being to defeat and there were few who had ever shed his blood. In fact, his brother Azrieal had been the only one who had ever been able to wound him during sparring matches. They were never serious battles, but when one brother had a sword and the other had strong magic at his fingertips, things tended to get heated. Acheron walked swiftly down the streets, his boot steps echoing off the marble steps and they seemed to echo against the stone buildings around him. He was heading for the pub so he could have a drink and relax for a while. He had been sent on a job that had taken him a few days longer than what he'd thought it would be and it had been a little harder than what he'd thought. He'd been sent after a powerful Human Mage who'd been capturing Demons from Dalkia and subjugated to be used as slaves of his. Now he was back, he was going to get a drink and relax. The Command Assassin saw the stone building that was the pub up ahead and he allowed a smile to slip over his face. He rarely showed any kind of emotion because emotion equaled weakness in Dalkia and everyone within Dalkia looked for weakness of others. Murdering one another was seen as a show of power and willingness to raise their rank through their own cunning. He had never attacked someone for their weakness, but that was only because he was already the second highest rank in the Empire, second only to the Emperor. He was the Emperor's personal Assassin and no one could give him an order except for his brother. The Chaos Demon stepped past an alleyway which was dark and shrouded in darkness. He almost missed the movement out of the corner of his eye, and if he had, he would've died that day. As it stood however, he turned and saw the man darting from the alleyway towards him. He held a razor sharp dagger in his hand and a determined look on his face. He was obviously relying on the element of surprise to bring him through and the sure aim of his dagger. He had lost the element of surprise and now he was going to lose his life. He side stepped the grungy Human man's dagger and allowed it to pass right by him, barely missing his ribs. He lashed out, slamming a balled up fist into the back of the man's head. He cried out in pain and fell face first on the ground. In one motion, Acheron drew his broadsword and he held it over his head, point held down. He stood over the man, and in one motion, he plunged the blade down into the man's back where his heart would be. The man cried out in pain as his blade slipped right through his flesh, bone, and muscle like a hot blade sliding through butter. The Human man coughed out a puddle of blood and he grew still. Gripping the hilt of his broadsword, he was about to draw it free when he was attacked once again. He sensed the creature before he saw it and he whirled around without his blade in hand. A rather large; muscular brown skinned Orc rushed him, a handaxe swinging through the air for his skull. The Chaos Demon reacted instantly, his hand shooting up and catching the Orc's wrist, stalling it's strike. Staring into the ruby red eyes of the Orc, he tightened his grip and he felt the bones of the creature breaking under his grasp. The creature cried out in pain and it's handaxe fell to the street. Then, he let go of the beast's broken wrist and allowed it to stumble backwards. The Command Assassin watched the creature, expecting it to turn and flee. However, even while gripping it's broken wrist, it stood it's ground. It gritted it's teeth at him, and even though it had to know that it was dead, it refused to back down. He respected that kind of bravery - some would call it foolishness - in his opponents. Suddenly, the Orc short forward, though what damage it was hoping to do was the real question. Then again, it did have a free hand and Orcs were notorious for getting the drop on their opponent. He wasn't going to let that happen. He met the Orc's charge by darting at the creature to meet him in the middle. It's ruby red eyes widened in surprise, obviously not expecting such an action. It was because of that surprise and assumption that he would stand there to defend that would be it's death. He reached the creature, and with all his strength, he slammed his palm into the creature's throat. The beast tried to cry out, but was unable to because he'd crushed it's windpipe. He lowered his hand and watched the creature sink to it's knees, trying to breath, but unable to. After a full minute of panicking, the Orc fell to the street, dead due to lack of oxygen. Acheron searched the surroundings for any more enemies that might be waiting in the shadows. However, he found no hint of an aura around him and he decided that it was over. What the Human and Orc had planned to do, he didn't know. Had one of them wanted to kill him and take his place as the Command Assassin? He didn't suppose that he would ever know, but he allowed that to drift away from him. He turned back to the corpse of the Human and he closed his hand around the hilt of his broadsword, pulling it free of the Human corpse. He cleaned and sheathed the sword. Then, he turned and made his way towards the pub once more, needing to relax even more now. He could only hope that there wouldn't be any more attempts on his life tonight, though he could handle himself. XXXXXXXXXX Acheron sat at his seat in the pub and he held a half empty glass of fire whiskey in his hand. It had been full to the brim as per his order, but he'd already drunk most of it. On top of the scarred wooden table were three empty bottles of fire whiskey that he'd already drank all alone. However, he wasn't anywhere near drunk, but he had hopes of getting drunk soon. It would just take a couple of more bottles of fire whiskey. He was sitting with his back to a corner of the bar so no one could come up behind him and sink a blade into his back. After the attacks earlier tonight, he was ready for more of them, but he'd been here for three hours and nothing had happened yet. The bar was large and square shaped, made out of wood that had been cut up so many times that it wasn't funny. In the corner was a bar and behind that bar was a line of shelves stacked with liquor bottles of all kinds. There were a dozen tables in the pub and each one of them were taken up by a Demon,a member of the Dark Races, or a cut throat. Every eye was looking around, searching for a blade in case it was coming for their blades or their throats. It was a well established fact that one who stopped looking was one who died with a blade in his back and more than likely a cut throat. However, they avoided looking at him. The Chaos Demon nearly smiled, but he curbed the impulse as quickly as it came. These Dalkians were afraid of him and there was no use in them trying to deny it. He could sense it in their auras and he could practically taste their fear on his tongue. Part of it he knew as because of his own legend and his reputed abilities with a blade. The other part was the fact that he was the only family of Emperor Azrieal and no one wanted to anger the Emperor. Even if someone had managed to kill him, Azrieal wouldn't have been mad. No, his brother would figure that he'd grown soft and had deserved to die for that offense. There was no love lost between the two brothers. Ultimate Assassin Saga: Escape Theirs was a complicated relationship that dated back thousands upon thousands of years back when they'd both been birthed of the essence of a Chaos Demon female. They still didn't know how they had survived such a thing considering that your average Chaos Demon mother always tried to eat her young and were usually successful. They supposed that their father had been the one to save them from their mother's fangs, but neither brother had ever known their father. No, they'd grown up in the Abyss - a Realm of flames relegated for Demons and evil spirits of the damned - all alone. They'd had to fight, scrap, scrape, and sometimes do very cold hearted things to survive the cruelty of the Abyss. Maybe it was because the two brother's had been together so long that the Command Assassin had relegated his loyalty through the battles they'd been through in the Abyss. However, he wasn't truly loyal to the Emperor one hundred percent. No, he was out for himself, and the moment that his brother gave him a reason, his loyalty to the man would break. He would leave and never return to the Empire that he'd helped build. Despite that he'd helped to create the Empire, he felt no love for what he'd carved out with steel, blood, tears, and murder. No, he felt nothing for the Empire that he'd built. He was indifferent to it all. He tilted his glass to his lips and he drank of the fire whiskey. He sighed at the burning sensation that filled his chest and he relished it. He drained the last of the glass of it's contents and he sat the glass down on the scarred table. Then, he sat back in his chair and crossed his long legs, his back against the wall so no one could sink a blade into his back. He looked around the pub, searching for anyone who was spoiling for a fight, but it didn't seem that anyone wanted to fight. He supposed that it was because of the fight earlier that he wanted to fight so badly. Acheron's gaze was drawn to the door of the pub when the door opened and a being walked through the door. It was a cloaked form that moved forward, and even though the being's features were hidden, everyone knew who it was. The aura of the being was noticeable and everyone knew who it was. Then, the being raised his hands to the wide brim of it's hood and pulled it back, revealing the face that all had known would be underneath the hood. It was the face of the half Blood Demon, Breal. He was tall, about six foot two, and slender. He had short ink black hair that rose wildly all over his head and blood red eyes that glowed out of an alabaster; emotionless face. He wore a short sleeve black shirt, black trousers, ankle high black leather boots, a black leather belt, and an ankle length black leather cloak. The Half Demon didn't carry any weapons, but that was only because he didn't need them. After all, his speed and power were enough to end the lives of most that challenged him. His existence on it's own was an oddity and even Acheron couldn't figure out how it was that the man even existed. Over three hundred years ago, Lord Shido, the head of the Blood Demon Clan, had put into place a mandate that banned his people from Mating outside of their blood pool. Shido wanted to keep the Blood Demon Clan powerful and the only way to do that was to keep their blood pure. Anyone who dared to take a Mate outside of the Clan and was caught was executed. In the case of the Blood Demons, their birth ratio was heavily uneven with ten times more boys than girls. Because of this ratio, male Blood Demons were partnered with another male to release sexual tension with one another. When they found their Mate, they kept their male partners and would until death. For some reason however, Lord Shido hadn't allowed the pregnancy of the Human woman to be ended when it was known that she was pregnant with a child and had allowed the child to be born. Then, he'd even allowed the woman to stay with the child and raise the baby Breal. When he reached the allowed age, Lord Shido began training the boy himself and the boy had come into his own, becoming a powerful warrior with his razor sharp claws. Acheron noted that the patrons of the pub had grown quiet the moment that he'd entered the pub and had pulled back his cloak hood. Then, he noted that one of them was moving towards the Half Blood Demon who was standing completely still. The Demon approaching Breal was a Middle Flight Demon which had horns protruding from his forehead and curled back towards the crown of his head. The Higher Flight of a Demon, the more powerful and the more Human in appearance a Demon was. Acheron himself was an Upper Flight Demon which was why he could pass for Human if he needed to. However, anyone that could sense auras would be able to tell that he was far from Human. "You will leave here, half breed." the Horned Demon hissed out angrily. He stopped in front of the Half Demon and he clutched both of his hands into his fists. His dark blue eyes glowed with anger and he looked ready to tear into the creature. However, he kept his anger in check and didn't strike him - not yet anyway. "If you don't, then you will die here. You can fight, but you are but a weakling Half Breed and Lord Shido won't be able to save you." "I fear not the likes of you." Breal replied, his voice devoid of all emotion. The Chaos Demon found himself amused by the sight and he sat back in his chair to watch. Then, he rested his face in his hand and he continued to watch. He was interested to see what was going to happen, but he wasn't going to get involved if he didn't have to. A one on one battle would be just fine with him and it would be an interesting thing to watch. However, if someone else get involved, he would make sure to take them out before they could be a hindrance. Then, Breal spoke again, interrupting his thoughts. "If you think that you can kill me, then try. Otherwise, get out of my way." The Middle Flight Demon gritted his teeth and swung his balled up fist for his cheek. Breal watched the fist coming towards him and he looked like he wasn't going to dodge the attack. He didn't in fact dodge the attack. Then, his hand shot up, his hand appearing as nothing more than a black blur and he caught the Horned Demon's wrist in his hand. Then, he squeezed the other Demon's wrist tightly in his own and the sound of bones breaking filled the pub. No one moved as the two men faced off, one screaming in pain and writhing under the others grasp. However, Breal showed no emotion on his face as he looked at the man and he seemed to think of the other man as nothing more than a piece of dust. Then, the Half Demon turned and flung the Horned Demon like he was nothing more than a glass. The Horned Demon slammed against the wall and slumped to the floor, groaning in pain. His screams had broke off the moment that he'd been flung through the air, but now, the Demon wasn't even moving. Acheron watched the Half Demon as he stood there regarding the Horned Demon that he'd just flung and had his back to the rest of the room. It was because of that he was left vulnerable to the other man who was intervening and had a dagger held tightly in his hand. It was obvious what the man had planned, but the Command Assassin wasn't going to allow that. To stop him, he raised his hand and pointed his palm at the sneaking Human cutthroat. Then, he drew his magic into his palm and his hand began to lick with bright orange flames. Then, he focused it on his palm and the flame moved to his palm, creating a whirling ball of flames. The flames shot forward from his hand and flew across the pub, slamming into the sneaking man's head, making him scream in pain as his head was engulfed in flames. The flames moved from his head down to engulf the rest of his body and the Human cutthroat fell to the floor of the pub, his screams completely silent in death. When the flames stopped, it revealed the black husk of the Human's collapsing corpse. The whole pub had grown silent and all eyes were turned to him. He was now the center of attention and everyone was gaping at him in surprise that he'd intervened. Even Breal was staring at him, his blood red eyes glowing with his own surprise. Then, Breal regained his composure and his face blanked of all emotion, his eyes empty once more. He uncrossed his long; tree-like legs and he pushed to his feet, his hands held down by his sides as he looked upon the patrons of the pub, his eyes empty of all emotion or sympathy as he took in each face, both male and female of all races. "Anyone involving themselves in his business will be involving themselves in MY business." Acheron said, his voice cold and dead. His eyes met each one of theirs and he saw a common emotion among them all: fear. Every single last one of them feared him and wouldn't do a damn thing to go against him. After all, he was the Command Assassin, and as such, was regarded as a deadly being. Then, he sat down in his chair and sat back against the wall once more, looking out at the crowd once more. They looked back at him for only a couple of seconds later before turning back to their own drinks, ignoring the corpse on the floor. It would be taken care of by someone else. The Chaos Demon grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey, and instead of pouring another glass, he tipped the bottle up to his lips. He drank of it with eager gusto and he relished in the burning sensation that filled his chest. There was nothing more he liked than relaxing after a particularly long job. When he pulled the bottle back down from his lips, he noted that the Half Demon was walk towards his table. Then, he stopped in front of his table and he met the other Demon's blood red emotionless eyes with eyes devoid of emotion as well. He wasn't afraid of this man and he knew that he hadn't come to attack him. He probably wasn't there to thank him either, but if he wasn't going to attack, he wasn't worried about it. "I did not need your assistance. I was perfectly capable of dealing with those miscreants alone." Breal said, his voice empty of all emotion. However, there was a look of annoyance in his blood red eyes. The man stood there with his back straight and his head held high as if he were a royal. As far as the Command Assassin knew, he wasn't of royal blood, but then again, no one could ever tell. The Blood Demons tended to hide many things from outsiders and the heir to the Lordship of the Clan would be one of those closely guarded secrets. "I didn't aid you. I hate back stabbers and that Human was one. Besides, you didn't even finish your business. The Demon who confronted you still lives." Acheron pointed out in a common sense manner. He took a long pull of the whiskey once more and looked at the man. He seemed a little surprised by what he'd just said, but he couldn't be sure. After all, when one's face didn't change, you could couldn't exactly tell what they were thinking. Then again, even if one's face did display emotion, you never knew if it was authentic. "Leaving your enemies alive is not advisable. It makes you look weak." The Half Demon regarded him through narrowed eyes. It was as if he was searching for any trace of a lie. If that was indeed what he was looking for, he wasn't going to find anything. The Chaos Demon was being one hundred percent truthful in what he'd said. He didn't involve himself with others business, but when one was about to be attacked from behind, he always made it a point to show that he wasn't approving of that behavior. If you couldn't attack someone from the front, then you deserved to die. Being a coward was as bad as being weak in his mind. However, many others didn't think the same way. In fact, Azrieal himself encouraged deception and assassinations. It made the Empire more chaotic, and in his mine, the more chaotic things were, the more powerful they were. If everyone was on edge and looking for enemies in the dark - even when they weren't there - then they would never be able to sneak up on any Dalkian and Dalkia would remain strong. He could agree with his brother that he didn't want Dalkians to grow weak and complacent. No, that would be acting like so many nations in the past who had fallen because they believed themselves to be the supreme power in the region. That kind of feeling always meant death, eventually. He watched as Breal turned away from his table and he walked smoothly towards his enemy. The Horned Demon was already getting up, but it was slow going and he didn't see Breal making his way over towards him. About the time the Horned Demon made it to his feet, Breal swung his claws and the Demon was unable to dodge the attack. His claws cut deep into the flesh of his neck and the Middle Flight Demon cried out before slumping to the ground, dead. Then, Breal turned and looked at the Chaos Demon as if to say that he'd listened to what he had to say. Acheron smiled a little bit and he lifted the bottle in his direction, saluting him. The Half Demon nodded his head and turned away, walking out of the pub. Strange that the Half Demon would come just to kill one and speak with him. Why would he do such a thing? Had he been sent on a reconnaissance mission and been spoiled because of the fight? He shook his head and snorted. He was starting to get a little paranoid and he knew that it was because of the fight earlier in the night. Oh well, nothing to do for it now except for drink and try to go back to his relaxing. Before the bottle could reach his lips, he felt a burning sensation against his chest and he cursed. He knew just what the burning sensation was. It was his brother summoning him via the crystal amulet that they both wore around their necks. The only time Azrieal used the amulet to call him was so he could give him another job. He'd just gotten back and he really didn't want to go on another job. However, if he turned down the job, his brother would be displeased and he didn't want his brother mad at him. He didn't fear his brother, but there was no reason to create strife. Sighing in resignation, the Chaos Demon reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold piece. Then, he placed the coin down on the table to pay for his drinks. He pushed back his chair and he got to his feet. While he made his way across the bar, he eyed all of the patrons who followed him with their eyes and he dared any one of them to attack him. They didn't of course. He made it to the door without incident and he stepped out of the pub. XXXXXXXXXX Azrieal sat behind his desk, signing missives and shuffling around papers. He hated paperwork, but it came with the territory of being a leader. He preferred when there were battles because he always made it a point to be the one out in front leading his people. However, there hadn't been a war between Dalkia for over one hundred years. He'd felt that their conquering campaign had spread far enough and his brother had agreed. They were large enough and they couldn't afford to spread any further. If they did, they would be going up against real powers and many of their people would be lost. He wouldn't care about that, except for the fact that he wanted to keep his Empire under his tight control and not have them all desert him in the middle of a war. He and Acheron had built Dalkia with their own skills, blood, sweat, and rage. Acheron had been the one that had killed the most though and even he could admit to that. He was a master with his magic and no one could contest him when it came to magic, but his brother was the best with a blade. There wasn't a single swordsmen in existence that could best his brother with a sword. He was simply too powerful and to willing to take a hit just to dole one out. Some called Acheron insane, but he called his younger brother a genius. Azrieal was tall, six foot five, and slender. He had long golden blonde hair that fell to the back of his thighs in a single thick braid and emerald green eyes set in a bronzed; ethereally handsome face. He wore a dark blue shirt, black linen trousers, black leather boots, and a black leather belt. On his right middle finger was a red ruby ring which contained most of his power and abilities. He was able to channel his magic through the ring, enhance it's strength, and destroy anything that he was aiming at all because of the ring. The Emperor looked up from the paperwork that he'd just finished and he ran a hand through his hair. Sitting at his desk and doing paperwork for hours could be very tiring. Many would think that sitting and writing would be an easy job, but it wasn't. He hated it more than anything in this world and would like nothing more than to sink his fingers into a newly flayed open flesh, but he knew that it couldn't be such. He was stuck doing his paperwork for a little while longer and there would only be more tomorrow. He sat back in his chair and he looked around his office, taking it in for the first time in many months. The floors were bare, revealing the mahogany beneath and in the corner was one bookshelf that was stacked full of books. Each book was about a different lore or country and each book was stocked with leather bindings or linen bindings. The door to his office was large and made of mahogany as well with a golden handle attached to it. He looked down at his desk and he smiled. It was also mahogany and the desk dominated the room the most with his black leather chair behind it. Just as he finished looking around his office, he heard the sound of a knock on his door and he called out for the person to enter. He knew who it was of course because he had summoned his visitor himself. The door opened and in stepped his brother, Acheron. The huge Chaos Demon had no emotion on his face or in his eyes, but he'd known his brother all of his life and his brother had never shown much emotion past puberty. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that it was a defense mechanism and a good one. After all, he was the Command Assassin of Dalkia and he was still alive even after all these years. He was the best. The younger Chaos Demon walked across the mahogany floors, his boot steps echoing off of the mahogany floors. Reaching the Emperor's desk, he pulled up the seat in front of the desk and he sat down in it. Of all the people who served the Emperor, only his younger brother would dare do that. Everyone else feared the Emperor and would only follow his words to the tee. No one else would have been as daring and as presumptuous, but he loved when his brother did that. It showed his surety in his power. "I have a very important job for you." Azrieal told him, his voice quiet and empty of all emotion. He sat forward and placed his forearms on top of the desk. He stared into his brother's eyes, looking for anything, but found nothing. It was as if he was completely vacant and he was never coming back. It was as if he had no soul and no conscious whatsoever. Good, because that was what he needed in an Assassin and his brother was the best. Even after all these years, he hadn't gone soft and he was glad to see that. "The Queen and Prince of Paradise have Fallen. I want you to find and kill them." There was a slight shift in the Command Assassin's body, but it was miniscule. Anyone else might've missed it, but he'd been purposefully watching his brother for anything. Well, he'd just got his something, though what it was he didn't know. However, he didn't think that it was very important. After all, what were the chances that he would know the Angel Queen and Prince? None, that were the chances. The Emperor knew that and that was why he had chosen him. His brother had no problem with killing people he didn't know and rarely questioned why. "They are located somewhere in the Wilds, though where exactly we are unsure." Azrieal continued, sitting back in his chair. He placed his arms on the arms of his chair and he leaned back further. There it was again, that shift in his posture. All he had done was tell him where they were, naming a land of pure anarchy and he'd had a reaction. He nearly frowned, but he hid that emotion. He didn't want his brother to know that he was suspicious of him or everything could fall apart. Ultimate Assassin Saga: Escape The younger Chaos Demon nodded, and without a word, he rose to his feet. Then, he turned and walked back to the door, leaving the office. Acheron hadn't said a word and that worried him slightly. What the hell was going on with him? It didn't bode well for this mission, that he was sure of. However, he'd given him the mission and there was no reason to pull him off of it yet. No, he would leave him on it, but with one unknown condition: he would work the case with a companion - a spy if you will - watching his every move. The Emperor raised a hand and waved it, signalling to the being in the shadows. The being took a single step out of the shadows and was revealed. It was an Imp which was perfect for spying missions such as this one. The Imp was about four foot tall and rail thin. It was hairless with green skin and large glowing ruby red eyes. It had long thin arms that were topped with over sized hands and the same with his legs. Protruding from the creature's back were small; bat-like wings. "I want you to watch my brother." Azrieal told the green skinned creature as it crouched on the floor next to his desk. It's ruby red eyes glowed and it nodded it's small head. It hissed, obviously relishing in going to work once more. "He is acting oddly and I want you to watch him closely. If he makes one wrong move, I want you to report it back to me." He turned his head to look at the Imp and the Imp nodded it's head again. Then, the Imp disappeared into the shadows once more to do as he'd asked. XXXXXXXXXX Acheron walked free of the gates of the capitol of Dalkia and he felt freer than he had only a few seconds ago. He was leaving behind everything that he'd built tonight and all for a reason that he'd never thought existed for him: love. Yes, love was what was driving him to leave, but not for his brother. No, love for his marks or at least one of them anyway. He knew Trissieal all too well, and judging from how intimate he'd been with her in the past, he knew that he couldn't kill her. That simply wouldn't be possible and he wasn't going to fight it. However, he had to keep that from Azrieal and he knew that it wasn't going to be easy. His brother had spies everywhere, in every country all over the Center Continent. His brother seeing what he was doing wasn't what he was worried about. No, it was him sending Demon after Demon to kill him or bring him back and he knew that he would. No one betrayed Azrieal and got away with it, not even him. He would not allow his younger brother's betrayal to go unpunished. He would make an example of his brother in front of everyone to show that he was still in control and he was still as harsh as he'd once been. None of that mattered to Acheron. All that mattered to the Chaos Demon was reaching Trissieal and her son. He would protect them from anything and everything that his brother threw at them. With that thought in mind, he broke into a run, and to anyone that was looking upon him, he would've appeared as nothing more than a black and silver blur moving across the land. He was leaving his old life before, and even though he didn't know what the future brought, he didn't regret this for a moment. No, he relished and loved what he was doing: leaving behind the life of bloodshed and deception for one that would hopefully be better. It was a three day walk from the capitol of Dalkia to the Wilds, a land of pure anarchy that had no leader or any kind of government. However, with his running at this speed, he could be there by nightfall. Chapter 3 Acheron had traveled the entire day and had decided to take a rest for the night. The only reason he was able to tell the difference was because he was between the borders of Dalkia and the Wilds. He could look back and see the blood red sky with black lightning that marked Dalkia, but he could also look in the other direction to see the dark night with the silver stars in the night. For him, the stars and the velvet colored sky was beautiful to him. He'd missed the sight of such beauty when the Mages of Dalkia had put up the imposing sky of the Empire, and now that he was gone from his home, he didn't miss it in the least. After all, it wasn't his home. No, he had no home and he could wander wherever he wanted to. He could see in the distance the tall trees of the Wilds and he knew that those trees were the first sight of his new future. However, it was night time now and there was no reason for him to begin just yet. No, he would rest for the night and then begin when the sun was up tomorrow. The Chaos Demon moved around, picking up different twigs and sticks for his campfire. Once his hands were full of the twigs of different sizes, he walked to a part of the grassy clearing and he dropped the wood into a pile. Then, he began to move around the grassy slope, placing sticks in a circle and then building a tepee of twigs in the center of the thick circle. Once he was done, he lifted a hand and drew on his magic. Flames began to lick at his hand and he touched the wood with his flaming hand. The wood caught immediately, going up in flames and burning bright. The orange and yellow flames cast shadows on his face, creating an eerie glow in the night. Making a fire wasn't enough however. He listened to his stomach growl and he winced. He hadn't eaten anything for several hours. True, Demons didn't have to eat because they weren't mortal beings, but there were side affects to not eating. A Demon would grow weak in body and mind. They wouldn't be able to focus and their power would suffer because of it. Demons didn't need sustenance to live, but they needed it to survive. So, with the flames of his campfire leaping, he got to his feet and he walked away from his camp for the night, intending to search out food for the night. He moved through the grass of the clearing, crouching low and reaching out with his aura to search out the aura of an animal. After several minutes of waiting crouched in the high grass, he felt it. A small aura only fifteen feet north of him and it was moving towards him. He licked his lips and waited for the being to get closer to him. He could tell from the size of its aura that it was a rabbit and he knew that it would be enough to fill him. He could tell that it was thick and juicy. He waited. The former Assassin drew on his magic and a razor sharp dagger appeared in his right hand. When the rabbit was right in front of him, he made his move. His large; masculine hand shot out and closed around the rabbit's neck. The creature cried out in pain when he squeezed and drew the beast towards his face to kill it. It was in fact thick and juicy with thick dark brown fur. Its tiny black eyes looked at him, its fright a palpable thing. However, he would end the creatures fright quickly enough. Acheron gripped the hilt of his dagger tighter and he plunged the blade into the rabbit's belly. The creature squeaked as it's blood leaked out and it struggled hard to escape. There would be no escape. After a few more seconds of bloodletting, the rabbit grew still and it's eyes glazed over with death. He said a prayer to the Goddess of the Hunt to take care of the little rabbit's soul and then got to his feet. His long strides brought him back to his undisturbed camp in less than a minute. The flame was burning just as bright as it had been before, but he knew that any normal flame would need tending to. Because this one was magical, it didn't need any sort of tending and it would continue to burn until he put it out. The Demon lay the rabbit body down on the ground next to the fire. Then, he carefully worked his dagger through the flesh of the rabbit and began to separate the thick brown fur of the rabbit from it's meat. When he was done with that, he laid the fur aside for later use. You never knew when you were going to need the fur of a rabbit. He cut the head off of the rabbit and began to pare the meat from the bones. He laid the meat aside and he set aside the bones of it, but he saved one rib for later. With all that done, the Chaos Demon picked up the stick and slid the chunks of meat through the flesh one by one. When he was done with that, he sat cross legged at the fire and he held it over the flames to cook it. While the flesh of the rabbit cooked, he thought and his thoughts were quite dark, though not uncommon. He knew that betraying his brother had consequences and desertion was betrayal. Azrieal would send operatives after him when it became apparent that he wasn't doing his job and he didn't look forward to that. He would be hounded by Demon after Demon after Demon and some of them he might even know. If it came down to it, he would kill even his friends if it meant staying away from his brother. And all of this because of one woman. Trissieal was special to him and he knew that there was no way that he could kill her. No matter what, his heart would never allow him to sink his blade into her heart and watch her die. He just couldn't do it. He didn't even want to. In his mind, this was the reason for him to break away from his brother that he'd been waiting for and he'd finally gotten it. He didn't regret it and it wouldn't have mattered if he had anyway. There was no going back now, and if he tried, there would be a kill on sight order put into place. He wouldn't even put it past Azrieal to come after him himself. Acheron was drawn from his reverie when he smelled the cooked meat. He pulled the stick with the rabbit meat on it and he sniffed at it to make sure it was done. The delicious aroma that wafted from every piece of the meat told him that it was in fact done. With his hands, he slid a chunk at a time from the stick and popped it into his mouth, chewing quickly. He was still cautious of his surroundings and that was why he had his aura extended to search the area, making sure that nothing could sneak up on him. He smiled at the irony of the situation. He'd learned to be cautious when he was in Dalkia and now he was using that against the one person he'd never thought that he would have to watch his back with: his own brother. Suddenly, something brushed against his aura and he frowned. The aura of the beings were familiar, but he wasn't exactly sure. One thing was obvious though: he hadn't sensed these beings in many centuries. What the hell were these things? There was only one way to find out and that was to remain where he was. After all, there auras were coming right for him and he sensed that they had malicious intent right on the surface of them. There were hundreds of them, and even though they were relatively small creatures, they were moving swiftly towards him. The Command Assassin chewed the last bit of the rabbit meat and he got to his feet. He turned his eyes to the horizon where the beings that he'd sensed were coming from and he closed his hand around the hilt of his broadsword. On the horizon, he could see several crimson dots in the air, and even though they were small, they were growing larger. Their auras were just as small as they'd always been, but their auras matched their sizes. As they got closer, their features became more clear to him, and as their features became more clear, it became obvious to him what they were: Minions. Minions were creatures born of the Abyss and most of them were chaotic creatures who killed anything that got in their way. However, Upper Flight Demons could take control of and command the Minions as their own. Once an Upper Flight Demon took control of a Minion, they would fight to the death and never attempt to break free. After all, their existences were tied to the Demon that controlled them and they lived only to serve. That was when they were most effective. They came in all shapes and sizes, but they all had one thing in common: they were evil. It crossed his mind for a moment that Azrieal had sent them to attack him. However, he discarded that thought almost immediately. There was no way that his brother knew that he was betraying the Empire already. Azrieal was many things, but an all seeing being he was not and that was what it would take to know such a thing so soon. After all, he had no idea of his relationship with Trissieal in the past, and if he had, he never would've sent him after her in the first place. In fact, he would've hid the fact that it was happening in the first place so he wouldn't leave and try to stop it. The Minions grew closer, and when they did, he was able to tell what kind of Minion they were: Bloodgoyles. Bloodgoyles were terrifying creatures that lived for nothing but death and killing. When they attacked villages, they found every living creature and they tore at their flesh with their razor sharp beaks. There were few beings who'd ever seen a Bloodgoyle and survived, but the Chaos Demon had lived in the Abyss so he'd seen many of them. He and Azrieal had never commanded Minions, but that was only because they had never needed their help. The Bloodgoyles were five foot tall and extremely slender creatures. They were made wholly of the blood of the damned, but they could be cut into pieces with ease. However, regular iron weaponry wouldn't work against them and that's why they were so effective against most villages. Most races didn't know what the Bloodgoyles were and they learned far too late that their forms were mostly insubstantial so iron weaponry wouldn't work against them. Their heads were bird like with a razor sharp beak, but they didn't have any teeth. They usually pecked their enemies into little tiny pieces and swallowed them whole. The more they killed and ate, the larger they grew. Their wings were five foot wide and had bright green eyes on the inner parts of the wings that matched the shade of eyes that they had in their heads. Acheron wasn't afraid of the Minions because he knew just how to handle them. They weren't that powerful after all. In fact, the only thing that they had going for them when it came to attacking people was that they were impervious to iron weapons and their extreme speed. However, he knew just how to handle the Bloodgoyles and that was why he didn't fear taking them on. The only way to deal with the creatures was magic. Magic was able to actually strike their mostly insubstantial forms and do them damage. There was nothing that they could do to take a magical attack and not be destroyed, unless it was a weak spell from a weak Mage. He was no weakling when it came to magic. The Chaos Demon's hand closed tighter around the hilt of his broadsword as they swarmed towards him. There were hundreds of them and he could sense the hunger from all of them. They weren't that large so he would guess that they were newly summoned Minions straight from the Abyss and that would make things much easier. He drew his broadsword and he held it in one hand down by his leg. Then, he chanted a single word and flames poured from the hand holding the sword. Before too long, the flames engulfed the silver blade of his broadsword and melded with the iron, turning the blade a glowing shade of orange and yellow. The Assassin waited until the Bloodgoyles were close enough, and then, he leaped into the air towards them. The creatures shrieked as they swarmed towards him with their beaks aimed right at his head. He could feel their mindless hunger as he sailed through the air with his sword held tightly in one hand and he smirked. These beings would never realize that he'd imbued magic into his blade and they would be driven by their need to feed; to kill. It was because of this that he was going to emerge victorious. Acheron swung his arms and slashed through the nearest Bloodgoyle. The creature cried out even as it fell and dissolved into a puddle of blood. That was what it was after all: animated and shaped blood. The Bloodgoyles tried to swarm him; to overwhelm him and peck him to death so they could swallow him. He was sure that they could sense his Demon aura and he knew that if they could manage to eat him alive, they would become the most powerful Minions on the Mortal Plane. His glowing broadsword swept back and forth, slaying any Minion that came close. The Minions that he slashed joined their fellow Bloodgoyle on the ground and became nothing more than a puddle of blood. However, there were still hundreds of them and he had much work to do. The moment his boots touched the ground, the Bloodgoyles swarmed him, surrounding him on all sides and flying swiftly around him. He took no heed of this however. He stood tall and unafraid of these creatures. After all, he knew that he was going to be the victorious one this day. There was no way in hell the Minions were going to defeat him when Upper Flight Demons and cutthroat beings of Dalkia couldn't. He wouldn't allow it. Suddenly, the Chaos Demon shot forward with a battle cry and his sword held out in front of him. He slashed at the Bloodgoyles, destroying them one after another and not one of them were able to land a strike against him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that three Minions had broken from the whirling hoard and were flying right at his back. Drawing his magic once more, three throwing daggers appeared between the fingers of his left hand and he threw them even as he slashed through another Bloodgoyle. He noted that the magic imbued daggers slid deep into the approaching Bloodgoyles and they fell in a mass of blood to the grassy ground, coating it. He fought for several minutes, slaughtering the Minions with practiced ease. He wasn't sweating and he wasn't tired. If he had to, he could go on the rest of the night battling these creatures and still come out the victor. However, he knew that their numbers were already dwindling and he'd already cut their number in half. They would have to do something soon or they would all be slaughtered with the utmost of ease. Then again, they probably didn't know or realize that. Bloodgoyles weren't exactly known for forming coherent thought. Several minutes of slashing later, the Minions changed their tactics. They flew high into the air above him and began to circle, appearing as nothing more than tiny; crimson and green dots in the night sky. Apparently, they believed that as long as they stayed up in the sky, he wouldn't be able to reach them. They were wrong and their mistake would be their undoing. While they flew high in the air above him, the Command Assassin knew what he had to do. Looking up at them, he turned his blood soaked broadsword point down and he slammed the blade down into the ground. The blade sank halfway into the blood soaked ground beneath, but he took no notice of that. No, he had other things on his mind - like destroying these creatures. With his hands freed, Acheron placed them flat together in front of his face and he closed his eyes. Then, he began to chant an ancient language that was older than himself and older than anyone else in existence on the Mortal Plane. It was an ancient, powerful language known as Infernal. He felt the power of each word flow through them even as he chanted, and when the last of his words left his lips, his eyes sprang open, looking upon the Bloodgoyles. "Petrify!" he cried out, his voice filling the open field. His eyes glowed with red power as he said this and anyone seeing his eyes that way would've been cowed. The Bloodgoyles didn't flee as they should have, but that was to be expected. They were stupid creatures after all and it would be their ignorance that would be their death this day. The moment the word left his mouth, the power was enacted in the spell, and almost as one, the Minions turned to stone. They were frozen in the sky as individual creatures, their gray statue forms appearing as strange obelisks to the gods. Then, gravity took over and the Bloodgoyles fell to the earth. When each statue hit the ground, it shattered into a thousand pieces, never to be fixed and put back together ever again. The battle was over. Ultimate Assassin Saga: Escape The Chaos Demon lowered his hands from in front of his face and the light in his eyes faded, being replaced by his natural emerald green eyes. He closed his hand around the hilt of his broadsword once more and drew it forth. He whispered a word and the orange and yellow glow that had engulfed the blade disappeared, the magic gone from it. He cleaned the blade of his sword and he sheathed the weapon before stepping over to the mass of stone that had shattered, creating mounds. He frowned as he looked at it and he wondered at who could've sent them. Paranoia would tell him that Azrieal had figured him out and had sent the Minions. However, common sense told him that there was no way that he could already know, and even if he did, he would never send Bloodgoyles after him. After all, Bloodgoyles were weak creatures and they would stand no chance against him so there would be no point in sending them after him. So, the question remained: Just who the hell would send the Bloodgoyles after him? It was a question that would remain unanswered for a long time. XXXXXXXXXX The green skinned Imp flew high overhead, watching the entire thing. Through the Imp's eyes, Azrieal was able to see the whole thing and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Sure, Acheron had been attacked by the creatures and he hadn't had a choice but to fight back. It was either that or get killed. However, the thing that bothered him was why the Minions would've been where they were. They were suppose to be within the borders of the Wilds and causing problems. For some reason though, they were at the border crossing and causing his brother problems. He watched through the Imp's eyes for another moment as his brother returned to his camp and lay down for the night. He was obviously going to wait until morning to continue the job. He found nothing untoward about that action. Many Assassins took the first night and rested before they began the leg of their job. Acheron was no different. However, there was something bothering him about his brother and he couldn't seem to shake it. There was nothing really all that strange in his actions, but he'd noticed as of late that he seemed to be growing restless. He had no doubt that his brother was loyal to the Empire, and ultimately, to him. However, he knew his brother well and he knew that his brother could justify anything if he felt he had the right reasons. That was what was worrying him. His brother's reasons. The Chaos Demon shook his head and snorted. Then, he chanted a word and banished the Imp's gaze from his own. He was sitting behind his desk once more and he sat back in his chair, his fingers pushed together in front of his face. He couldn't allow his brother's demeanor to distract him and take away from what he had planned. Acheron didn't know it yet, but once he finished the job he was on now, he was planning on expanding the territory of Dalkia just a little bit more. When they were successful, they would be right at the border of the Manatheran Empire and they would begin launching attacks at the Human Empire. That was not to happen for a long time now however. No, what Azrieal needed to concern himself now with was his brother and his getting the job that he'd sent him out to do done. The death of the Angel Queen and Angel Prince was all that mattered. In fact, it was quintessential to his plans. For Dalkia to begin expansion once more, the two Fallen Angels had to die and nothing else was more important. The Emperor sat back in his chair and he smiled as he envisioned the future of the Dalkian Empire. Yes, it was a beautiful sight and one he would look forward to. Chapter 4 Sunrise found Acheron already awake and clearing out his camp. He'd been awake for a few minutes now and he was eager to start the day. He'd already put out the fire with a wave of his hand and had gathered up his things. However, when the sun had come over the horizon, he'd stopped and stood there basking in the warm light. It had been more than one hundred years since he'd last seen or felt the sun on his skin and he decided at that moment to take it in as much as he possibly could. After all, who knew when he would be able to pause and take in the beautiful feeling of the sun again? After a few minutes of basking in the sun, the Command Assassin sighed and lowered his head. Then, he opened his eyes and he stared at the blue sky. It was beautiful, and now that he was seeing it once again, he never wanted to leave it. Never again would he live under a blood red sky with black lightning cracking. Never again would he serve his brother as his personal killer. He was his own person now and he was loyal to only three people: himself, Trissieal, and her son. He didn't know the Prince of Paradise, but she was her son after all. With a mother like her, he had to be a trustworthy and powerful man. How could he not be when she was so gentle, so kind, so accepting? After all, she'd accepted him upon first meeting him and she'd never distrusted him. He'd met many people over the years who had distrusted him upon the moment that they learned or sensed that he was a Demon, but she wasn't one of those people. She was the only person who had fully and wholeheartedly accepted him for who he was without a second thought. That was why he cared for Trissieal and that was why he was going to make sure that she was safe. With that thought in mind, the Chaos Demon turned his attention to the tall trees of the High Forest in the distance and he began to walk. His long legs ate up the distance quickly, and in only a few minutes, he was standing before the tall mahogany trees of the High Forest. This was the eastern most part of the Wilds and he knew that once he stepped into these trees, his life would change forever. He would be taking a different path than he had done in the path and he would do so without a second thought. He smiled. There was no clear path through the trees, but he'd expected nothing less. After all, who would enter a land of anarchy? The only people who were known to willingly come to the Wilds were those attempting to escape from bounty hunters and other forces that sought them. Only the most hardened people came to the Wilds to escape, but he knew that people actually lived within the confines of the Wilds. They'd been born in the Wilds, and because of that, they ignored the rest of the world as irrelevant. They had their own problems to deal with and they were immense ones. Acheron took a deep breath and blew it out. Then, with his nerves calmed, he took a step forward and he entered the High Forest, the eastern Province of the Wilds. Several minutes of walking found him deep in the High Forest, surrounded on all sides by the huge trees that rose so high and so close together that they blotted out the sun. The foliage was thick and filled with unknown wildlife, but he wasn't concerned with any of that. He was concerned about the sentient life forms that he knew lived within the High Forest and that was why he had his aura extended for several miles in front of him, searching for anything that might mean him harm. So far, he'd found nothing of the sort, but his luck was bound to change before he got through the massive forest. Just as suddenly as he'd thought that, he felt it. There were several auras up ahead and they were differing. Over two hundred of them were sentient and driven by not just their emotions, but by their logic. However, the other side was much different. They were driven by their immense hatred - hatred much like the Bloodgoyles from before - and their need to kill. He frowned as he felt those auras and he wondered just what the hell was going on. The two forces weren't together. No, they were fighting one another, that much was obvious from the disappearing auras. He had to see for himself just what the hell was going on. There were two paths that they could take: the forest floor or through the trees. The forest floor was thick with vegetation and there was no path so that would more than likely slow him down. However, if he went through the trees, he could get there faster and not be seen by the forces fighting one another unless he wanted to be seen. Decision made, he opened his hands and he drew his magic into his palms. Then, two long; razor sharp daggers appeared in both of his hands and he gripped their leather-bound hilts tightly in his hands. Daggers in hand, the Chaos Demon turned to the trunk of one tree and he looked up. High in the air was the first branch and it was a thick one, probably about as thick as he was broad. This was the only reason for his daggers because he couldn't jump that high and he knew that this was the only way. However, once he was actually up on the first of the branches, he wouldn't need the daggers anymore. Crouching low, Acheron pushed off with his feet and he leaped high into the air. He watched the bark fly past his face as he leaped higher and higher. Finally, he noted that his leap wasn't going to take him any higher and he flipped the knives in his hands point down. Then, he raised his arms over his head and he slammed the daggers into the wood of the tree, the blade sinking into the wood up to the hilt. His weight caught on the hilts of the blades and he hung there for a moment. Then, he pulled one dagger from the tree and stabbed it above, lifting himself up as he did so. He repeated the process again and again until he finally got to the high tree branch. Using the momentum from his daggers, the Command Assassin leaped to the side and he caught the thick branch in his hands. His grip tight, he swung his legs up and over, his booted feet landing on the thick tree branch. He stood up straight, and after assuring his balance on the branch, he walked towards the end of the branch. Reaching out with his aura to assure the direction he was going in was the right one, he leaped from the edge of the tree branch and landed on the next one. He moved as nothing more than a black blur as he leaped from tree to tree towards the battleground. The world flew past him at rapid speed as nothing more than blurs of greens, browns, and blues. He knew nothing but the auras up ahead and his own curiosity. That was what was driving him this direction after all: his curiosity. He knew that he was drawing closer to the battle because he could now hear the sounds of battle. The sound of steel slamming against steel, death cries of different types, and booted movements all filled his ears. It continued to grow louder and louder as he leaped from tree to tree until finally he had arrived at the battle scene. The Chaos Demon crouched on the branch and he hung his hands between his knees. His emerald green eyes narrowed and he watched the battle playing out beneath him. One side - the sentient side he was able to tell now - were wearing leather armor and carrying their iron weapons of swords, spears, and axes. The other side however was far different from the leather clad Humans that they were fighting and he was surprised to see that they were also Minions of the Abyss. These Minions were more Human in appearance though they were still far from Human. They walked on two legs and had two arms, but that was where their similarities ended. They were four foot tall, hunched over creatures with skin the color of steel. Their heads - little more than skulls really - were oval shaped and their mouths hung open indefinitely, but no teeth rested within, neither did a tongue. Their eyes were an eerie burnish orange that glowed out of their skulls without emotion. They were covered in a dark blue cloak that fell to the back of their calves and they wore their hoods up. There arms and legs were bared to give them movement, but that didn't really matter. Last but certainly not least, they carried in their hands a scythe with a long pole that was as tall as the Minions themselves. Acheron also knew the names of these Minions: they were called Blue Devils. The Command Assassin took in the battle and he noted that the battle was on the side of the Minions. The Humans were making a valiant effort, but they were outnumbered and they didn't stand a chance. Even the greatest fell when they were overwhelmed with numbers and that was exactly what this was. The Humans were killing several of the Blue Devils quickly, but for every ten they killed, one of theirs fell and the Humans couldn't afford to be losing anyone. There was only one thing for him to do. The Chaos Demon rose to his feet and he drew his broadsword. The sound of metal drawing against wood was drowned out by the battle so he didn't have to worry about anyone having seen him. Taking hold of the hilt of his sword in both hands, he leaped from the branch and he fell to the forest floor. He let loose a battle cry and he raised his sword over his head with both hands as he was coming down. One Blue Devil looked up just in time to have the blade cut straight down from the crown of his head to the apex of his thighs. Then, the Blue Devil fell in two different direction, severed into two pieces and dead. The Humans were - of course - surprised by his arrival, but the Minions didn't even hesitate. They turned and lumbered towards him, their razor sharp scythes raising in the air to cut him down. They were going to have to be a lot faster than that to kill him. Darting forward, he slashed open one of the Devils' stomachs, and even as it was spewing it's blood in death, he was shearing the head of another from it's body. The Humans had recuperated from their surprise at this time and he noted that they went back to battle with renewed vigor. He smiled to himself as he blocked the scythe of one Minion and knocked the weapon aside before sinking his own blade into the beast's stomach. He pulled his blade free and turned, slashing from right shoulder to left hip of the Blue Devil behind him. He was nowhere near the Humans, but they were both fighting towards one another, and soon enough, they would come to meet. What they would do when they did meet, he didn't know, but that didn't really matter. What did matter was slaying these Minions and clearing them out before they could kill anymore people. So, he set to work once more, his blade dancing as he sliced deep through a Blue Devil's chest deep enough to encounter it's heart, killing it in that one strike. Leaping high into the air to avoid the strike of a Blue Devil, he drew magic into his palm and he aimed it down at the huge force of Blue Devils. He had to make sure that he didn't kill any Humans because this attack was extremely powerful and anything it came into contact with would be instantly crushed to dust. Noting that no Humans were in the way, he shot the blast of pure sound and watched as it crushed more than a dozen of the Minions into dust. The attack was so powerful, there wasn't even any bloodstains when they died. Landing once more, Acheron gripped the hilt of his sword once more and his eyes searched the battle field. More than one of the Blue Devil was moving towards him with their scythes held tightly in their hands and it was obvious that they were coming to kill him. They weren't going to get the chance. Before the Minions could come into contact with him however, a man came from behind and his blade sliced through the Minions as they came towards him. The Blue Devils didn't even see the man as his greatsword, a sword that was as tall as the average sized man, cut through the flesh of the Blue Devils and he moved as if the weapon was nothing more than a feather even though he knew that the greatsword was one of the heaviest swords in existence. He was tall, around six foot six, and heavily muscled. He had long ink black hair that fell to his shoulders in a tight ponytail and cobalt blue eyes set in a tanned; roguish face. He wore a green tunic with sleeves that fell over his elbows, a black leather breastplate with golden embroidery on the chest, brown deer hide trousers, calf high black leather boots, and a black leather belt with a dagger sheathed at both of his hips. However, he seemed to prefer the greatsword that he was swinging around and he couldn't blame the man. He was damn good with the huge blade and the Blue Devils couldn't even get close to him before they were cut down. Acheron turned as a Blue Devil was swinging it's scythe down at an angle for his head. He lifted his broadsword and blocked the attack, his sword right under the blade of the scythe. Then, he pushed the blade so that it was pressed hard to the ground. His other hand shot out and grabbed the Devil's face. His large, masculine hand engulfed the whole of the Devil's face and it let loose a groan of pain while trying to struggle away. It wasn't going to escape in time. His squeezed his hand hard around the beast's face and he felt the bones of its face give way before it shattered into gleaming blue pieces in his hand, its crimson blood pouring from between his fingers. He paid that no mind as he grabbed the creature's scythe with his blood soaked hand and he turned, swinging the weapon. The curved blade caught another Minion in the chest and sliced deep. He roared and plunged the blade of his broadsword deep into the chest of another. He whirled in a circle, both blades that he had in his hands and the Minions fell under the blades. Several minutes later, he stopped spinning and he lowered the weapons as he looked around, noting that the Humans now outnumbered the Minions by more than two hundred soldiers. The Chaos Demon dropped the scythe and he shook his hand out, letting the blood fall from his hand. He looked around, but he noted that none of the Blue Devils were coming towards him. It would seem that they finally understood that he was far too powerful for them to take on, and despite their hunger for blood, they somehow managed to regain enough brain power to stay away from him. However, just because they were staying away from him didn't mean that he was going to stay away from them. The Command Assassin smirked, his emerald green eyes glowing with his lust for battle and he darted forward towards the creatures. His blade severed the arm of another Devil and the blade arm hadn't even hit the ground before he slashed the Devil's head in half. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned and his foot snapped out, kicking the Devil hard in the chest. His foot caused a crater in the creature's chest and it went flying backwards several feet. Acheron noted that the Minions were regrouping and gathering together. It seemed that they didn't want to keep going, but they probably had no choice. They were probably controlled by a Demon and had no choice but to fight to the death. If they didn't, they would die anyway. The problem for Minions was that once they were taken control of, they had to follow the orders of their Master or Mistress. If they didn't, then their insides would literally burst into flames and they would be dead anyway. It was a lose lose situation either way you looked at it. Having all of them in the same place was bad for the Blue Devils and good for him. Smirking, the Chaos Demon turned his sword point down and he jammed it down into the dirt. He sank to his knees with it, sinking the blade all the way to the hilt. Then, he drew on his magic once more and he channeled the magic through his blade. Once the magic was lighting the blade under the ground, he sent the attack forward and he watched what would happen next. Only a second after the magic had been discharged, two huge slabs of rock emerged on either side of the gathered Blue Devils, and before they could react or move out of the way, they slammed together. With that done, the Assassin pulled his broadsword free of the ground and he rose to his feet. He noted that his blade had been cleaned of all the blood that it'd shed by shoving it in the ground, but it didn't have any dirt on it either. Smiling, he turned - and stopped.