Chapter 55 - Liar

In the kingdom of Troa, along a road lined on both sides with statues of warrior angels holding shields and swords raised toward the sky, King Marxel Svintis walked beside one of his companions. The man wore a red cloak, over which rested two golden pauldrons upon his shoulders. His companion was a priest with short, unevenly cut blonde hair encircling his head and a large, sharp nose.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, that you couldn't come to an agreement with King Frizina. I can hardly believe he intended to employ such blasphemous means within his proposal," said the companion.

"That's what happens when one becomes too full of himself, Tirzel. He ends up mad for power," replied King Svintis, his tone cold and composed as he walked.

"Our kingdom is powerful enough not to need anyone's aid. Proof of that lies in my own skill at combat," he continued.

Up in the sky, the king and Tirzel noticed angels flying overhead, scattering leaflets bearing the face of Eliael, above the royal palace.

"What is all this commotion?" the king asked, his eyes narrowing with faint confusion.

"It looks like the face of King Frizina's brother, Eliael Frizina. Perhaps he's gone missing. Angels never distribute messages so urgently unless something serious has happened," said Tirzel.

"The king's brother is missing, eh? That's where Tarnael's incompetence begins to show as a leader. He can't even care for his own blood. Disgraceful," said Svintis, continuing his calm stride.

Along the defensive walls of the kingdom, soldiers stood at ease, chatting among themselves while keeping their spears at the ready.

"Did you hear what happened?" one of them asked.

"Yes. They say King Frizina's brother has gone missing. How could something like that happen?" another replied.

"I heard he was a strange man, a bit eccentric. But that's hardly a reason to disappear on his own," said a third.

"Maybe he was kidnapped," suggested the first soldier.

"Kidnapped? Don't be ridiculous. No one could infiltrate our nation so easily and pull off such an act. We would've been alerted by the Barrier Intelligence Center," said another.

"And I doubt any of the angels would have any reason to kidnap King Frizina's brother. What would they even gain from it?" someone else added.

"A strange piece of news indeed. Just what we needed, after everything happening beyond the birth of Uanamangura," muttered another soldier.

"I can't even imagine... hey, what's that over there?" asked a guard, pointing beyond the kingdom's walls.

"What do you mean?" another asked.

They all turned to look. Beyond the green treetops, they saw massive clouds of smoke rising in the distance, glowing faintly red across the horizon.

"Could there be a fire?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Impossible. No fire like that has ever broken out within our borders," said another.

As seconds passed, the source of the smoke became clearer. A colossal figure emerged. Igorus, clad in his evil, menacing armor, surrounded by waves of flame that poured from his brown, blazing wings.

"A—A Dominion!! Sound the alarm! Warn the entire kingdom! A Domin—"

In an imperceptible fraction of a second, the entire wall, along with the soldiers standing upon it, was reduced to ash and shadow by the furious blaze unleashed by Igorus. The angels scattered in terror as fire devoured the stone itself, melting the walls and raining molten debris down upon them. They fled through the sky, wings beating frantically, while Igorus hovered above, gazing down upon his prey, the kingdom of Troa.

An angelic soldier, trembling and pale, flew at full speed toward King Svintis to deliver the dreadful news.

"Y-Your Majesty... a Dominion has entered our kingdom and, it's burning everything!" he cried, nearly choking on his words.

"What did you say?" Tirzel asked in disbelief.

"They've come sooner than I expected," said the king, spreading his wings wide before launching himself into the sky toward Igorus.

The kingdom below was a scene of pure ruin, the mangled, charred remains of angelic soldiers lay piled together, stripped of the light of life. They had stood no chance against the general of the Dominions. Igorus continued to beat his massive wings, casting a dark shadow over what was left of the once-proud walls.

Then, from the burning haze, King Marxel Svintis appeared, hovering before Igorus in midair.

"You dare insult me like this? Coming alone into my kingdom?" the king demanded, his voice low and sharp.

"Do you think you're worth more than that?" Igorus replied, his tone thick with mockery.

"I see. The Dominions are always the same, proud, arrogant creatures to the very end. That pride will be your downfall," said Marxel, drawing his golden sword from his belt before surging forward at lightning speed.

But in an instant, Igorus vanished from sight. Before the king could react, a cold hand clamped tightly around his wrist from behind, the hand that held the sword.

"That's a fine blade," murmured Igorus, his helmet shrouded in the darkness cast by the king's own wings.

"Damn you, Dominion!" roared the king, conjuring a massive sphere of Lapis in his free hand and striking Igorus with it. The impact exploded with blinding light, but when the flames cleared, Igorus stood untouched.

"H—How is that possible?" the king stammered, disbelief etched across his face.

"Perhaps I should test my own sword," said Igorus. He drew a weapon of crimson iron, its edge covered in dark, scaled ridges like those of a serpent.

King Svintis lunged once more, desperate to deliver a fatal blow, but fate chose the opposite. In a single motion too fast for mortal eyes, Igorus swung his blade. When the world caught up, he was holding the king's severed head in his gauntleted hand. The body fell limply to the scorched earth below.

The angels who witnessed the horror screamed in terror and scattered like startled birds. Igorus dropped the head to the ground, then opened his palm. From it erupted a torrent of flame that chased the fleeing angels across the sky, driving them away like frightened, senseless cattle beneath the burning heavens.

Meanwhile, Atbara and Aldes were reaching the end of the interdimensional road.

"We've arrived, Aldes," said Atbara as he stepped out from the glowing portal at the path's endm only to tumble down from a tree along with Aldes.

"Damn it! You could've warned me about that drop," grumbled Aldes, rubbing the back of his head in pain.

"We're at the angels' barrier now. I've got no strength left, so you'll have to carry me with your wings," said Atbara.

"Are you serious?"

"Why are you complaining? I handled the hardest part of our job. Now come on, pick me up," said Atbara matter-of-factly.

"Guess I don't have much of a choice," Aldes muttered, spreading his dark-feathered wings. He grabbed Atbara by the sides of his ribs and began to lift him skyward.

Together they looked down upon the shattered barriers of the angelic kingdom.

"I've never understood these barrier things," Aldes said while flying through the rifts. "Why do the gods bother attacking each other when these things can be broken so easily?"

"It seems a good number of the Visionaries are dead," Atbara replied.

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Aldes.

"You're denser than I thought," said Atbara flatly.

"I should drop you right now," Aldes snapped.

"The Visionaries are the angels' watchers. Their duty is to observe the enemy, the mortals, and gather intelligence. They're also responsible for maintaining and reinforcing the angels' barriers. The fact that the barriers were broken so easily probably means the Visionaries weren't here. If they had been, the Dominions would've had a much harder time breaking through, and the angelic army would have gathered in greater numbers over time. That wouldn't have been good for the Dominions," explained Atbara.

"And what about the Dominions' barriers? Who maintains those?" asked Aldes.

"Their king and queen themselves. That's why they never join the frontlines, they strengthen their barriers through the power of their immense Fernia."

"Oh, shit..."

"Igorus has gone too far!" said Aldes, his eyes narrowing as they flew toward the burning horizon.

In the royal palace of Saint Zagra, King Tarnael had ordered all military forces to search for Eliael, believing his brother to be missing. The capital, the towns, the villages, even the natural monuments, all were plastered with posters bearing Eliael's face.

Tarnael sat uneasily upon his throne, tapping his fingers and shaking his leg in restless frustration.

"I never thought you loved him this much," said Kaela as she entered the royal chamber.

"It only seems that way to you because you never truly shared a brother-sister bond with him," Tarnael replied without looking up.

"I see pride has blinded you, or perhaps losing our brother is changing who you are. You've never cared for him before. At least make up your mind which role you're playing; stop pretending all the time," Kaela said sharply.

"If you came here to antagonize me, Kaela, you can leave. I'm not in the mood for your little barbs," Tarnael said coldly.

"I've never understood you, Tarnael."

He raised an eyebrow, signaling that she finally had his attention.

"You loved Father, then you killed him. You despised Eliael with all your heart when he was young, and now you act like you care. Oh, wait... now I understand. Everything changed when you met that woman in the red gown. Everything changed when Uanamangura was born. You were a man with no purpose, wings drying and fading with time," said Kaela.

"Hmph! You're speaking nonsense. Your ego's grown too large since you became a marshal in our army. Meeting that woman made me understand my purpose in this world. And I've never pretended. My brother is needed now more than ever, to ensure the failure of the gods' destruction," Tarnael said, still staring forward as Kaela stood behind his throne.

"So I was right. You see us only as weapons, as pawns on your chessboard. You've never loved anyone. I doubt you even love yourself. To you, love is a meaningless notion," said Kaela.

"Love is the weakest of emotions, especially for beings like us. Love burned our mother alive," Tarnael answered, his tone completely devoid of feeling.

Enraged, Kaela drew her sword and pressed it against Tarnael's throat in a single, furious motion so swift that the impact shattered every window in the hall.

"So it seems that struck a nerve," Tarnael said calmly. "You know that everything I do has a purpose, no matter how vile the means. But now I've realized something, perhaps I should have done it all myself. I never needed your help, or Eliael's. Maybe then he wouldn't be missing now. And truth be told, the weight of responsibility presses heavier on me than I'd like to admit."

He remained still, utterly unshaken by the blade at his neck.

"You're both nothing more than obstacles," he said, his voice as cold and cutting as steel.

At that moment, the door burst open with a violent swing as a soldier stumbled in, his armor and body engulfed entirely in flames.

"My lord, princess... w-we have a grave problem" the soldier coughed heavily between words.

"What in the hell happened to you?" Kaela demanded, glaring at him while still pressing her sword against Tarnael's throat.

"All the kingdoms surrounding Saint Zagra... they've vanished into flames" he coughed more violently, his body trembling, "all of them..."

The soldier collapsed to the ground, his armor hissing as the fire consumed him.

"What?" Tarnael shouted, shoving Kaela's blade aside and running toward the dying man.

"Who did this? Who destroyed them? Speak to me, soldier!" Tarnael's voice cracked with desperation.

"One... Dominion... only... one..."

The soldier drew his final breath.

"Igorus Friola," Tarnael muttered grimly. "They've decided to strike sooner than I expected. Follow me or don't, Kaela, do whatever you wish. But know this: everything I do... damn it..." He stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head. "I'm tired of my own words. Soldiers! Take this man to be treated, if there's still a chance he can be saved."

"I don't care if you've used me, or my brother, in this grand plan of yours," Kaela said bitterly. "I miss him, Tarnael. This woman may save the world by her methods, but she's destroyed our family in every possible way. I don't see you as my brother anymore, just someone I once knew. Just tell me you love me. It costs you nothing."

Tarnael showed no reaction to her plea. He removed the crown from his head and let it fall to the ground with a dull clang.

"I don't have time for such nonsense. The angels need me," he said coldly, spreading his white wings before soaring out through the balcony window.

Kaela sheathed her sword and stood motionless, watching as Tarnael vanished into the horizon. The wind lifted her golden hair, and her mind drifted, through every memory, every choice, every sacrifice she had made. Did it all have meaning... or none at all? Everything she had achieved, every action she had taken, seemed worthless in the indifferent eyes of her brother. Despite her words, she still couldn't understand him. Perhaps no one ever could. Not even Tarnael himself. He would forever remain an enigma in her eyes.

"Father, why does war exist? Can't conflicts be solved in other ways?" Voidanos once asked his father as they sat together in the warmth of their home.

"Even if one side is reasonable, the other might lack the intellect or the will to solve things peacefully," replied Igorus. "Two predators both want the prey, neither is wise enough to share it. It's the same with mortals, and with us gods. Each has their own ideals, their own ambitions. And those always lead to war. Sacrifices are made, innocents die, yet there's no other way. War is a universal language, a solution that only worsens the problem. As long as such thoughts exist, there will always be war, and never peace."

"Do you think that time will ever come, Father?" Voidanos asked softly, his tone heavy with melancholy.

"I'm certain it will, my son. It is my duty to end war across the world—"

He paused, his expression darkening. "Son... forgive me. Your father is quite the liar sometimes..."

Igorus now stood upon the outer walls of the kingdom of Saint Zagra, and behind him stretched nothing but devastation. Thousands of kilometers burned, seas of flame and molten stone, the charred remains of angelic soldiers, women, children, the elderly. None were spared the fire of Igorus.

The very star of Betelgeuse had delivered its judgment upon the divine, and its master, Igorus himself, gazed upon the ruined realm through the slits of a dragon-helmed visor, his murderous eyes burning within.

But Igorus was not satisfied...

He wanted to burn even more...