The Power Of Blasphemy

Hours ago, Prime Divine Cathedral—Capital Eirenaios, Ostyra Kingdom.

Inside a glorious council that was illuminated with holy binding light, Argus Volgen bent, his left knee contacting the golden sandstone floor.

“My master, Divine Primate Zlatomir Frode. I have news that will bring joy to your majesty.” Argus spoke, his eyes closed, his head facing the sandstone ground.

“You may stand.” The mysterious Divine Primate’s intimidating voice echoed in the vast holy hall. The colossal window behind him lit his golden throne and the massive circular desk his arms rested on. Though that light didn’t manage to clear his shadowy presence.

“We have successfully claimed proof that could lead us to the mastermind behind the sabotage of our beloved nation.” Argus stood, surrounded by four white marble walls that were striped in gold.

“I also found something interesting, a man who rose from death.” His silver hair reflected the holy light the long glass windows emitted. “His rising could just be the beginning of a new era.” He grinned, rubbing the facial hair on his chin.

“This changes the rules of the game.” The shadowy Divine Primate stood; he smashed his white bureau before adding, “My dear child Argus, secure the dead man. For thy contributions I shall reward you with a higher ranking. Not here, but in the greatest cathedral of the continent.”

The greatest… Volgen’s gray eyes glimmered brightly.

“The Eternal Pantheonic Church Of Blessings, under the greatest Hierarch of our day. The voice of the thrones, Dunn Ostranik Eryxion.” The shadows obscuring the Primate dissolved into faint light as he sat back on his golden throne-like chair.

With a victorious smile on his face, Argus Volgen bowed before stepping outside the holy council.

Four hours later, Oakleaf Street—Korivale City, Ostyra Kingdom.

Dark heavy clouds covered the once clear Korivale sky. By that time, Oakleaf Street was swallowed by flames and destruction.

Both the black stone tower and Oakleaf Tavern turned into a pile of dust and blood-painted rocks, silence conquered the atmosphere.

W-What happened… Buried under chunks of stone rocks, Ogon gained back his senses.

Tap

Tap

Tap

It’s him… again… The sound of footsteps Ogon heard was agonizingly familiar. It was the same sound he had heard at the verge of death.

“A-Argus, V-Vol...gen.” Ogon’s vision blurred before he finally lost consciousness and sank into obscurity. A lake of his own blood under his body.

“This is our target. Get him inside the carriage,” Argus ordered the three warriors whom he had chosen to join him in the operation. Two of them were Celestials dressed in gray combat suits, while the other was an Abysmal dressed in a dark red one.

“Roger!” After pushing all the rocks that topped his body, the three warriors carried the immobilized body of Ogon. They began walking towards the carriage.

Argus observed his surroundings. The sight of civilian corpses sinking in blood under the street’s perished buildings made him feel both joy and satisfaction. The fact that he was going to get away with it romanticized his twisted emotions.

After ensuring the absence of any living witnesses, Argus walked towards the carriage. His companions had already secured Ogon inside; they tied him with binding light chains.

With this, I have secured the target and killed the mercenary hiring group. I remain victorious—

BANG! A bullet pierced the air, scratching Argus’s face. His blood dripped onto the dusty cobblestone ground.

The Seraphic Knight’s eyes widened in both shock and light fear, his advanced reactions didn’t sense the projectile coming. What he sensed instead was the clear fact that whoever attacked him intentionally missed. That thought itself crushed Argus Volgen’s pride.

He slowly turned his head left and raised it to face the person responsible for the attack.

A black-clothed figure stood on the dark red rooftop of a mostly destroyed building, blood dripping from his forehead.

“Don’t you dare underestimate The Ravens, Argus Volgen.” Thaniel, the captain of The Funeral Ravens, lit the cigarette held between his lips.

Out of the destroyed tavern’s remains, a cracking noise could be heard.

“Captain.” It was the red-haired Nemir. On his left shoulder, he carried the badly injured Liselotte, bleeding severely from her right arm. The unconscious Yara was carried in his left arm.

“Good timing, Nemir. Take Lisa and Yara somewhere safe.” The usual creepy smile appeared on Thaniel’s face before fading almost immediately. “I’ll take care of this bastard.” Thaniel’s crimson eyes glared deep into Argus Volgen’s corrupted soul.

“Don’t you dare die, captain.” Nemir rushed to the opposite side of the future battlefield.

The stormy clouds covered the purple moon’s mesmerizing light.

“Go, deliver the target to the capital no matter what it takes,” Argus ordered the three warriors, his eyes fully fixed on Thaniel’s.

“Roger, Sir.” The warrior on the horse’s back began riding the carriage with Ogon’s body away.

Both The Funeral Raven standing on top and The Seraphic Knight standing at the bottom gazed at each other. For a moment, silence felt loud.

“How did you find this place?” Thaniel spoke.

ZAAAAP! A thin lightning bolt struck Thaniel, or so Argus believed.

The half-destroyed building Thaniel was standing on fully collapsed, rubble fell to the ground as streams of smoke rose due to the impact.

“Foolish.” Argus turned his head, fully believing he had destroyed his enemy.

!!!!

“You surely are underestimating me.” The moment Argus turned, his forehead contacted Thaniel’s revolver. Its cold metallic muzzle sent chills down his spine.

PZZZZZT! Argus instantly teleported, distancing himself from The Raven.

“When did you?” Droplets of sweat filled his face, his expression hardened.

“Four times,” Thaniel let out a fog of smoke before announcing, “I spared your life four times.”

He pulled from his inside pockets a small bronze box that was carved with silver signs and opened it. Inside it was a bronze, mechanical syringe with a black-ringed plunger. A crimson red liquid could be seen inside the crystal chamber of it.

“What could that be?” Argus cautiously questioned.

“Argus Volgen, also knows as Silverial of Ostyra,” Thaniel removed his damaged coat, he pulled up the sleeves of his dark blouse, “You will meet your demise here, and now.” He stabbed his left wrist with the syringe, injecting its content deep into his veins.

Through His shoulder blades, vast leather wings erupted. His fingernails turned into claws.

“This is the power of blasphemy.” He smiled. His fangs grew vampiric.