Chapter 59 - Servants of the Dark Flame

Atbara's lifeless body lay sprawled at the center of the crater that scarred the divine kingdom. He was mutilated beyond recognition as Kaela pressed her foot down upon his head.

"You really thought you could catch us off guard, didn't you?" she said coldly, grinding her heel against him with deliberate cruelty.

Tarnael watched in silence, unmoving, as he closed the dimensional portals he had used to summon the angelic armies. Atbara stirred weakly, forcing his eyes open, and when he caught sight of Tarnael, hatred burned faintly in his gaze. Kaela seized him by the hair and slammed him into the wall of a ruined building so hard that the entire first floor collapsed, the stones falling in a thunderous chain of destruction.

"Ah, Kaela... you do remember we built that palace, right?" Tarnael muttered, sounding more annoyed about the architecture than the half-dead vampire.

"I couldn't help myself," Kaela replied, brushing dust from her arm as Atbara lay buried beneath the rubble. "I almost feel sorry for him. He really thought he could stand against us."

But then, the rubble shifted. Slowly, painfully, Atbara rose to his feet, trembling but defiant. Tarnael and Kaela exchanged glances as he let out a hoarse, bitter laugh, blood trickling down his lips like lonely raindrops.

"What's so funny?" Kaela asked, narrowing her eyes, but before she could move, Atbara vanished entirely from sight.

"I see what you're doing," Tarnael said calmly. "You've stalled us long enough, just enough time for the carnivorous blooms to devour the soldiers while you slip into the spheres, hm?"

He extended his right arm and opened a small portal. When he withdrew it, his hand was gripping Atbara by the throat. The vampire gagged violently, struggling for air under Tarnael's tightening grip.

"H–How... how can you—"

"Technically, the trees of Guhojre allow you to pass into a parallel dimension," Tarnael explained, his tone almost instructional. "Which is why your presence can't be sensed. Unfortunately, you picked the wrong opponent."

With that, he pulled Atbara fully through the portal, holding him suspended in the air. Despite his wounds, Atbara glared into Tarnael's eyes, defiance still flickering behind them.

"We've wasted enough time on you," Tarnael said, raising his hands as divine symbols began to circle his arms.

Desperate, Atbara lunged forward, throwing the last of his strength into one final, hopeless attack.

"Lapis Arts: Two Wings — The Chrysanthemums of the Fae."

Instantly, white chrysanthemums began to bloom across Atbara's body. Before he could even react, his form started to split apart, his flesh dividing neatly wherever the flowers had blossomed. Each fragment of his body hovered for a brief moment before a miniature black hole appeared around it, sucking it away into a realm where matter and time did not exist. One by one, the pieces of Atbara vanished, drawn into oblivion like dust in a cosmic vacuum.

"You went too far this time, Tarnael," Kaela said, her tone half-teasing. "I might've made him my personal slave."

"You say that now, after you already overkilled him?" Tarnael replied dryly.

(Dominique... forgive me, Dominique... Forgive me for being forgotten... for being so weak... for being so cursed... Goodbye...)

Atbara's final thoughts echoed in the void of his fading consciousness as he glimpsed the illusion of a white dress among the ruin and light, flickering, fading, until it disappeared entirely. His body, now fragmented beyond existence, was gone. Yet though he could no longer move, a few of his tears remained behind in the living world.

"Well, would you look at that," Kaela said with a faint smirk. "Even vampires have feelings."

Tarnael said nothing, standing still and silent, his expression unreadable, like a statue carved from divine stone.

Meanwhile, in the battle between Igorus and the angelic army, chaos ruled the skies. The seven commanders, along with 4,900 soldiers, attacked from every direction, wings cutting through clouds, light spears clashing against infernal fire.

"Tch! Seems I'll have to get serious now. Fernia Relica: Second Reveal — Tsunami of Flames!"

In an instant, colossal waves of fire, five hundred meters high, erupted around Igorus, crashing outward like molten oceans. The flames consumed the battlefield, burning the angels from all sides. Desperate and panicked, they flew higher to escape the inferno, but over seven hundred were incinerated before they could flee.

Igorus burst through the blaze, his body a streak of living fire. One commander tried to intercept him, only to be reduced to ash before he could even raise his weapon. Ten more angels swooped in from behind, but Igorus conjured a sword of flame in his other hand and cleaved them apart in a single, fluid motion.

He then materialized a fiery wing to replace his severed left one, and with both his true blade and the weapon of flame, he carved through the ranks mercilessly, a storm of death and heat. The soldiers who had stood behind those being slaughtered began to falter, terror crawling through their voices.

"We're fighting monsters!"

"If we can't defeat him, what chance do we have against Uanamangura?"

"I can't... I can't go on..."

Their fear spread like wildfire, but none of it slowed Igorus. He kicked one soldier so violently that the man's blood splattered across his comrades' faces, his organs falling to the ground like crimson rain. Igorus hacked, burned, tore, without hesitation, without mercy. Yet despite the carnage, the army's numbers barely seemed to dwindle.

"Has Atbara found the spheres yet?" Igorus wondered as he crushed a soldier's skull between his burning hands.

"What can we even do against this thing?" one of the six remaining commanders whispered.

Then, reinforcements arrived. Over forty new commanders and fifteen thousand additional soldiers descended onto the battlefield, wings blazing with divine light. Igorus looked up, a flicker of irritation crossing his face as the golden glow of their armor reflected across his darkened form.

"I know there are hundreds of thousands of angelic soldiers in this kingdom... but I should be grateful it's only this many for now," he muttered dryly.

"Good, reinforcements!" shouted one commander.

"Where's General Johannel?" asked another.

"He's fighting that demon over there," came the reply.

"Then we needn't worry. He'll win easily," said another, with misplaced confidence.

"And the others? What of Marshal Kaela?"

"She's facing the third intruder. The king's supposed to open additional portals soon, from what I've heard."

"I see... Then let's kill this bastard first."

With that, the sky filled with light. The army, strengthened and enraged, charged toward Igorus, weapons drawn, wings flaring. They surrounded him from all sides, readying their divine arts.

One by one, their voices echoed across the burning battlefield:

"Lapis Arts: One Wing — Horses of Misery!"

"Lapis Arts: Two Wings — Chronicles of the Spheres!"

"Lapis Arts: One Wing — Feet of Mirrors!"

"Lapis Arts: One Wing — Celestial Deer!"

All around Igorus, the air rippled with energy, celestial beasts, spheres of light, mirror-born spirits, and radiant constructs of divine essence materialized from the ether, a dazzling armada of heaven's fury.

Igorus stood still amidst the lightstorm, his expression cold, his body haloed in fire. Slowly, he extended his right hand toward the ground, palm open, eyes fixed forward.

Then, with chilling calm, he whispered:

"Fernia Relica: Second Reveal... — Grant Me Your death..."

All the angels' attacks were consumed by dark flames with a greenish hue, born from within their very bodies. The black fire devoured every strike, one after another, before they could even touch Igorus. Horses, stags, beasts of Lapis essence, weapons, and constructs, all vanished from existence, swallowed by the insatiable hunger of those flames.

"What is this fire?" murmured the commanders, as they and the twenty thousand angels behind them stood frozen before the mysterious inferno that surrounded Igorus from all directions. The angelic manifestations of their techniques fell to the ground, their radiant forms turning ashen and dark, corrupted by the flames that scorched them.

Suddenly, from every point of that vast, circular silhouette of fire, black tree-like stalks began to rise, tall, towering, and grotesque. The angels looked to one another in confusion and dread, uncertain of what was unfolding before their eyes.

"Welcome to this divine realm... Servants of Lord Agh'Urunda," said Igorus.

The dark stalks began to twist and shift, taking on more precise, biological shapes. Their bark became flesh, their ridges became muscle. Arms burst from their sides, spines curved into form, and soon the grotesque shapes stood tall, humanoid beasts with massive, muscular bodies covered in dark, coarse manes. Their faces resembled those of rams, with curling horns and carnivorous fangs. From their backs, black, demonic wings unfurled.

"What... what are those things?" one of the soldiers cried out in terror.

"What are we fighting against!?" another shouted.

The commanders and their armies couldn't comprehend what they were witnessing. More than two hundred colossal humanoid monsters stood before them, ram-headed, sharp-toothed, winged abominations, ready to tear the angels apart.

Tarnael arrived at the battlefield, watching the chaos unfold with a sharp, calculating gaze. He observed Igorus closely, noting how effortlessly he overwhelmed the angelic legions.

"What the hell are those?" Kaela asked, bewildered by the sight.

Tarnael analyzed the scene in silence, then muttered grimly, "Black fire... It must be Fernia infused with Lagus elements. But how did Igorus Friola achieve that? Fernia is naturally weak against Lagus... And those infernal creatures, he invoked the name of Agh'Urunda..."

His expression hardened, his jaw tightening with anger.

"Damn you, Igorus Friola," Tarnael hissed under his breath as he glared at the monsters encircling the battlefield, while Igorus, hand still extended in the same calm posture, gave a rare, twisted smile unlike any he had worn before...