Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Tearing my eyes away from the rivers, the rustling of footsteps tugged at my heart. My brow shot up, and my grip over Draczimar tighten.

It’s a trap.

Any God, even if they are the weakest creature in the nines, knows how to mask their footsteps. Something is up.

“Freya,” A startling voice that made my blood boil called. ” Watch out…”

I twirled, feeling everything in me wishing to listen to the voice of my Master. My instincts hadn’t begun to howl, nor had the hairs on my neck risen, but… But as I turned with Drazimar in the defensive arc, blood caught my eye.

DING!!!!!

Cutting deep into my shoulder, Drazimar caught the dark blade of the bizarre entity of utter flames burning with a fiendish expression dancing in the fire. I was pushed back.

Pain splintered my mind for a second, but in the moments of stillness where both of us measured one another, a horrid amount of bloodlust flared from that creature’s body, stiffening my mind.

Knowing it was a soul attack and that a physical attack could come at any moment, I didn’t dare flinch or show any expression.

My soul was protected. Some attacks could leak in, but Soul Defense was a tricky endeavor. Oden and I had disagreed on many things, but Soul Base battles were the most dangerous ones.

Most of the Soul Scriptures were lost with time, but the ones from my memories were terrifying. Their battle intertwines on two levels. Spiritual and Physical. And it was that made people like the Silver Devil so powerful.

One cannot simply dodge a soul attack unless they are somehow connected with the material plane.

That was what essentially made ninety percent of astral attacks so dangerous. They were instantaneous and deadly.

The blazing specter bared its ghastly fangs in its somewhat humanoid appearance and, without hesitation, lunged.

Piercing through the darkness, the Spector was upon me in an instant, Its small mid-God cultivation blaring. But there was a difference in catching me off guard and now facing me head on… especially since my memories of that blasted era were returning.

Striking at me with a blade similar to the one the imps had used earlier; my eyes narrowed the instant it reached my neck. Everything slowed as I instantly cast over several spells to map the layout of this territory.

Sensing dozens of creatures somehow hiding in the wide open yet invisible to my eye and divine sense, I cursed, and without hesitation, I shadow-stepped just outside the tower where Victoria was facing off against the dragon mid-air and gathered almost half of my divinity.

A brutal intent suddenly whipped over the land and skies as even wings beneath my feet trembled, sensing something devilish emanating from my very bones.

“Commander!” A few dozen High Gods shouted, rushing towards me, covered in armor.

Raising a fist to halt their movement, the sigils of life and death flared within my eyes and began to intertwine with one another.

“Blade of the Pale Rider,” I uttered in both Infernal and Enochian, allowing these two power to gather within me; ethereal wings of black and white flared from my back as time and space began to warp, gravity began to tremble, causing an influx of tears dancing along space.

“Heed the song of life and the dance of death. And gather to thy hand! I call upon you, Lord of the Nine, Fallen of Hell! LORD OF DEATH! AZAZEL!!!!!”

“Karmic Array”

The exterior of Drazimar shattered to dust, revealing a slivery black edge bleeding such a demonic aura the very hells began to reel in fear as laws began to recied.

“Last I used this spell was to challenge the Silver Devil! But now! NOW I will use it to make a path for my Master!”

Twenty Chaos Cycle it had taken for me to research Angels and Fallen from lost manuals in hopes it could push me away from Odin. I’d amass so many texts, so manly legends. I had even reforged the primordial runes, the centralized runes that most gods in the myriad heavens use. And I’m sure higher realms.

And in my research, I’d created a technique that called upon not just the attunement of a Law or Location like the Abyss. But the core power of any Angels and Fallen whether they like it or not. When one gives their name, they will leave behind karma. When one’s name is known, their name will entwine itself into karma.

But… what if you stole that. What if you trick the Fourth Heaven into believing you were… An actual Angel of Death? What if you stole that power? If Azazel was a Fallen I read about, he must have been so powerful merely by existing that his power would leak into reality… no one is born in perfect control.

And all that power he released in a battle or subconsciously has to go somewhere. When I battle, I don’t care about the bolts of divinity I release into the bed of chaos… but no one ever asks what happens when that energy dissolves. Does it turn back into the Qi of Heaven and Earth? 𝐛𝗲𝗱𝐧𝐨𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝐜𝐨𝐦

No. At least not all of it does. Ninety percent vanishes back into Heaven and Earth, while the rest intertwines into your karma. That energy is yours. You’ve already defiled it after it was stolen from heaven and earth. And that’s the power I call upon.

One just needs a high affinity to a specific law… It may be an insult to the gods I stole from. But… It was an act of desperation back then.

“You are to follow my lead,” I informed the soldiers behind me before shooting inside at such a blinding speed everything seemed like shrieking stars falling from space.

Feeling the heat of Lord Azazels power pouring into me, without end, my chest began to burn as my eyes began to bleed a river of black blood. The flesh of my skin cracked, but instead of blood oozing, only a sea of black flames.

I howled, and an immaculate slaughter began.

I was on the verge of becoming a Chaos Lord back then… a Lord capable of demanding my freedom. A Queen who was so close… yet so far.