Nazerick Azeranth shot through space like a light beam, albeit a little slower. Her information this time had to be reliable. It had to be. She was getting exhausted with the chase.
The Heretics' galaxy ship was passing through the Intrascent Rank C sector.
They had been running, the heretics, for almost a hundred years. Running from one man. One who'd appeared out of nowhere just when the barrier of the great Celestials was about to fall.
It had been ten years after the fall of Earth 3079 - if Naz was remembering it right - when the man appeared. Her fangs twinged at the memory.
Her father had accepted the contract the elders of the demon horde had given them. He had been excited to help in the ascension of the new Demon God.
Of course he hadn't accepted merely because he was a demon supremacist. No. He'd only accepted because he'd been assured he wouldn't be experimented on. There had been no consideration for his daughter at all in his mind. Just like the rest of their people, she had been no more than fodder.
Earth-3079. That cursed planet ruled only by humans. It had all started there.
As she landed on the living metal exterior of the larger-than-life ship, she tuned her mind back into the task at hand. She was dressed in a power suit, all the better to navigate the chaotic essence of space. The armour was also outfitted with drilling equipment as it had originally been an asteroid mining model.
Her clan's innate trait, the reason why the heretics wanted had wanted them, was especially strong in her. A trait that was purported to be the closest to the seven great sins—at least at that time a hundred or so years ago.
With a coating of demonic energy, she entered the little hole she had made and her infiltration began. The hole, big enough for a giant to pass through, was probably no more than a little pinprick to this colossus of a ship. It was called a galaxy ship - not a world ship - for a reason.
Past the C grade, ranks became muddled a little, especially among those people called chosen. Naz wasn't chosen by anyone or anything. She was just a regular hardworking assassin, using her trait, yearning, a mix between lust and desire, to befuddle insignificant grunts.
Still, she wasn't sure if her B grade trait would work on someone suspected to be in the S grade, but she had to try.
She didn't know how long it took, how many corners she turned, how many heretics she killed along the way, before she reached the great hall. Or what she suspected was some kind of great hall.
"Another rat," she heard a familiar female voice.
The one she'd first heard shouting over a crumbling Earth 3079. Demanding for someone called Rafael Kingsley to surrender themselves.
A famous demon slayer early in the tutorial, the strongest human being had abandoned the Earth after killing her father. By the time the heretics had come to sack the planet, he'd been long gone.
Apparently, he'd heard about it later, the destruction of his home planet. So he'd started hunting them once he reached the C grade. Sure, it was possible for a very strong C grade to fight a B grade, but to kill one. It was unheard of. Rafael had killed several until he'd met the woman below.
Devila Vors. The second in command of the heretical faction. Rafael Kingsley had been forced to withdraw a number of times from what Naz had heard.
There were multiple rumors about encounters between the monstrous warrior and the heretic faction. She didn't know which was true.
She didn't care, truth be told. Because it was his fault. His fault that damn artifact had attracted the heretics. His fault they'd sacked the planet. His fault her family had died. And he hadn't even had the decency to die there with them.
It was also his fault she had been discovered by this damn witch now.
"Oh, come on," Vors groaned. "You're still a young one, aren't you? Surely you don't think that because of the slanderous rumors spread by this sword buckling villain, you stand a chance against us?"
"Slanderous?!" A voice echoed from somewhere Esil couldn't see. "Bold words, Devila!"
She couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. It seemed to echo from every corner of the Galaxy ship, and even further in space. And yet it also seemed near. It was like the voice came from a different plain of being all together.
And Devila. She was quivering from what Naz could see.
"You…" the famed mage took a step back, almost stumbling, "how did you get here? How did you find us?"
"This is not what she meant, Devila!" the voice echoed, almost gentle.
The mage seemed like she hadn't heard anything at first, but then she snapped back to attention.
"You're one to talk, Rafael. You are doing nothing for the children. All you've done so far is hinder us."
The voice didn't reply.
Naz didn't know when Devila Vors had gotten scared of the anomaly. The earliest rumors had her pushing him to withdraw on their first encounters. But apparently he had made huge gains every time they met, and eventually he'd caught up to her in levels. And now only one member of the heretic faction could put up a fight against him. But those were just rumours!
Naz considered ending him there and then. It was his fault her new home had been devastated. Only, she couldn't see him. Her demonic energy would probably suffice in charming him, but then what. What if his perfected S grade body resisted her tier breaker skill. As a B grade, she had to break two full ranks to take him out, after all.
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"I cannot do anything about Enith's guilt!" the man said. "I have my own penance to earn."
The nerve of him, speaking of his past mistakes like they were nothing. Seeking penance. Seeking vengeance for his long destroyed planet. For someone of his power, it was perhaps possible to do more. Maybe have a conversation with the hour glass, the celestial in charge of maintaining the integrity of time.
Though talking to celestials was a bit of a task. And that was why the heretic faction had a cause for their rebellion. They needed enlightened beings to control the machines, so that their power could benefit the multiverse. They just wanted control.
An aura shattered the tense space around them then. Hot and eternally destructive. Just the aura skill was enough to destroy the metal above the heads of everyone in and around the great hall, including Nazerick. This was only a small section of the great ship, which was the size of about five super planets.
Still, the ship was bigger than some galaxies. This kind of destruction was not enough to even stop it moving. But if two entities as strong as the one who was approaching fought on this ship, they might tear it to pieces.
And then Rafael Kingsley appeared in all his rumored glory, his own aura skill unleashed. There was a sword on Naz's throat. The way her former enemies were standing around, frozen in fear, there was a sword on everyone's throats.
"It all ends today!" Rafael Kingsley spoke, and his robes shimmered and started to shift.
The first thing she saw was a black helmet, followed by a chain mail shirt and leather breeches.
Then the pauldrons, and the chest piece, and the rest of the armour too. Black. As black as the new greatsword the warrior carried. She said new, but he had been carrying it since he first appeared to take on the heretics almost a hundred years ago to the day.
"You have trained hard to reach the B grade this fast, little one," Rafael Kingsley looked toward her, pitying her.
What right did he have to do that? He had been younger than her when she'd seen him on Earth. He was younger than her now, she was sure. A whole lot stronger too.
And then his aura skill, which had always been freakish for his level, changed. A sudden qualitative change. The approaching aura of fire and destruction paused.
"...A guardian?" Naz heard Devila Vors speak.
She could hear the smirk on his voice when Rafael Kingsley shrugged and spoke. "They were right. I have gained the power of a guardian, even though I did not need it. My latest class evolution helped me get to the same level as your boyfriend."
"You think just a guardian level class is enough…"
He chuckled from where he floated in space. He had moved through space in nothing but his robes before, Naz noted. He did not need a suit or ship or anything. Even S grades who hadn't attained divinity were not exempt from that. Only, hadn't he attained divinity though? Hadn't he gone above the divine level, and become a guardian?
She remembered a part of the rumors she hadn't wanted to believe. Because it would put him forever out of her reach. They called him the seventh Skyholm, although they just whispered it. Skyholm was not a popular name, after all.
Around him, space looked funny. It was so dark and distorted and empty. And parts of him would shimmer in and out of existence. There were rumors his primary affinity was void. The rumors did say he used every affinity known to the multiverse though, so she hadn't believed them. This was the first time she'd seen him.
Two extra hands grew out of his lower back, and then two more below those. And he got about one and a half times larger, taller. And he had wings. Ethereal wings, glimmering golden and silver and tens of brilliant coloured feathers.
And below his armour she saw the legendary tattoo light up. And then there was something else floating around him. Faeries. Pixies, little lovely spirit creatures. Like some legends believed flowed out of the celestials from time to time. And then as she watched the pixies grew into a single creature. A twin of the armoured man next to it.
The rumors were false, or so she had thought. Rafael Kingsley had so many affinities, every time he fought, he fought with a different spell. And he only fought with that one spell per fight. Only when he used spells, their effects were devastating. Mostly to their psyches of his opponents who often had similar skills.
Because even as she watched, a wave of solar radiance washed out from the approaching foe. Rafael Kingsley used the same spell. Only his was stronger, more widespread, more destructive. There was no where to escape. Only Devila Vors could perhaps escape judgement here.
Indeed, even with her coordination slowing down her perception of time to the lowest possible degree, the two wide area spells collided above her. And she was vaporized instantly, as was almost everyone in the great hall with her.
All she took with her to the afterlife was that memory of an empty shell of a man. A void. A void come to exact vengeance for his planet which he'd been unable to save before. If there was another chance, maybe he could do it. Maybe he could save Earth 3079.
When demons died, their souls went to hell realm, their true home according to legends. A place taken over by fire and ruin and devastation. Once, those were the elements of their very being. But then the Demon God had died and his biology had spilt out onto the world.
And no demon could withstand the energy his corpse gave off. Any other race or being would not have done better. Hell realm had now become their purgatory. Their home after the end.
Only, as far as Esil knew the legends, souls were not supposed to remember their past lives.
And when she had that thought, the fires of hell realm dispersed, and the rolling hills filled with devastation energy were gone.
Instead she was surrounded by darkness. A pulsing dark smoke. And in it were black faeries she recognized. Rafael Kingsley had had such creatures with him. Only, his had looked like his angelic wings. And they'd seemed to have moving tattoos when she looked close at one. These ones were dull grey in colour, though the extremities of their limbs, and even their wings were black.
And then she heard something toll. Like a bell. Or an alarm she'd first heard on Earth 3079.
Then she saw it. Behind the veil. An hour glass. Turning and turning. It wasn't supposed to be turning. She knew it wasn't supposed to be. Everyone did.
At first she had wanted to demand what the veiled land was doing in hell realm. The demons had lost everything. Their heritage, their god, their honour. And the last thing they had, their afterlife was also being stolen. But now she was alarmed as she heard the alarm blare again. What in all the multiverse was going on here?
And then she felt herself being shot through space at speeds unknowable. She had spent years traveling through space, using the fastest and slowest crafts known to the multiverse. She had never quite flown as fast as she was flying just then.
And then she landed. Her momentum just stopped all of a sudden, and she expected some kind of pain. She expected to go splat. There was nothing. Only a disorientation so vast, she likened it to a hangover after drinking a whole ocean of alcohol.
"Are you finally up, my daughter?" her father asked once she had gained her senses enough to start exploring.
Seeing his smiling face, she was finally convinced. She hadn't wanted to believe the faces that had surrounded her upon waking up. She hadn't dared to hope.
"You've been asleep a whole week," her father continued, not noticing how lost in thought she was. "This here is Hasty Mina. The demon horde has given her permission to hire our Azeranth clan. We are going to a little planet in the tutorial sector called Earth 3079."
She had gone back a hundred years in time. Now, before getting to the tutorial sector, Nazerick decided to do a little adventuring. She had to take advantage of her memories of the future, after all.
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