Chapter 69 - Requiem of Blood

The light shone over that land strewn with the dead bodies of angels, a ground wreathed in flames from which divine blood flowed. The abyssal pits of the ravine yawned beneath that wretched earth, where only Thranatis' light seemed to offer a shred of hope, even though that very light was the reason this tragic scene had come into being. The ruined kingdom, the crumbled walls, swords and spears scattered purposelessly, were now all swallowed by that sickening radiance. The light flickered and waned in Thranatis' hand, caught in his dark talons. The sky had taken on a mournful look as the sun's rays faded; the orange of the clouds dominated above Thranatis' wings. He lowered his hand; the four great eyes on those wings turned to that lifeless hand. Dark blood bled onto the palm of Thranatis, and the monstrous face of the being was reflected there.

A vision, a memory, formed in his eyes. Thranatis, a small boy with blue hair, wrapped in a white cloak, ran with a girl whose long hair was pink and with a boy whose hair was orange at his side. They laughed, running with exhilaration through a beautiful field full of all manner of colorful flowers. The breeze carried a sense of calm and peace. But Thranatis stopped when he saw a flower unlike the others. The pink-haired girl and the orange-haired boy, their faces blank, devoid of detail as if forgotten, ran ahead of the boy and waited for him to join them. What Thranatis took from that field was a Helichrysum flower with dark petals and a white center, unlike any other bloom. He held it in his hand as the petals began to drift away somewhere else. The petals all fell off, the flower vanished, the whole field disappeared, the two other children vanished, and what remained was that white, cold hand of Thranatis amid the catastrophe he had now wrought. He closed his hand and looked at that miserable sight beneath his wings.

Tarnael, Igorus, Kaela and the two other marshals stood frightened on that barren ground, watching from afar the now-transformed Thranatis, closer to his true identity.

"How did he get those shackles off?" Kaela asked.

"I have no idea," said Ovidius.

"Maybe by his power?" Arnkhael asked.

"He was losing his powers, you idiot," Ovidius replied to Arnkhael.

"How is that possible then?" Tarnael wondered to himself.

Igorus watched them question one another and thought about how Thranatis might have removed the shackles.

"Hm!?" he reacted unexpectedly.

"What is it?" Tarnael asked.

"From my blood," Igorus said.

The others opened their eyes in astonishment, expecting a more detailed answer.

"One of my techniques, 'Give Me Your Death,' is different from the others. It requires a Fernia purer and closer to origin like the ones we have among the Dominions with the dragons. My blood, pure and carrying dragon lineage, very likely helped Thranatis remove the shackles," Igorus explained.

"YOU BASTARD!!" Arnkhael shouted in rage. "WE SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU!!"

"Enough, Arnkhael!" Tarnael commanded.

"But your greatness... this Dominion is also our enemy. Admit it helped the Cherub get closer to his goal," Ovidius said.

"At the moment we have no other choice but to defeat this ancient bastard," Kaela said.

"Kaela..." Arnkhael breathed.

"Our goal, at least right now, is the salvation of the world. We do not have the luxury of choosing who stands with us and who does not. He may have been our enemy at first, but our aims are now the same. Aren't they, General Friola?" Kaela asked, casting a cold glance at Igorus.

Tarnael turned his eyes to the general with the same chill as the two enraged marshals.

"Let us slay that cursed one," Igorus said as he picked up a sword from the ground and turned toward the cherub. He and the others looked up at Thranatis with loathing.

Thranatis turned the eyes upon his wings toward the ruined kingdom. With his piercing gaze, he discerned a structure beneath the citadel, an ancient building veiled in a material both archaic and immensely powerful.

(One of the works of Sizran Dragoljub, Kindu of the Earthly Arts. No wonder it's remained untouched until now. Who would've thought it could endure for so long?) he thought, shifting one of his eyes toward the five figures watching him from afar.

"So this is your plan... mother...", he mused, before vanishing at the speed of light.

"Naahkk!? Where did he go!?" Arnkhael gasped, only to find Thranatis standing right before him, a mere meter from his face. The other four froze in terror, unable to process the monstrous speed and horrifying presence of the cherub before their eyes.

"Damn it! Lapis Arts: Two Wing—"

Arnkhael tried to activate a technique, but Thranatis moved his talons with such blinding swiftness that he shredded the marshal's head into dozens of fragments in an instant. Blood erupted from his throat like a fountain. He was killed as though he were nothing.

"ARNKHAEL!!" Ovidius roared, swinging his twin hammers at Thranatis, but with a single sweep of one wing, Thranatis cleaved Ovidius cleanly in half without even glancing at him. The two halves of his body hit the ground, lifeless eyes staring blankly as blood pooled beneath them.

The sight was too dreadful for Kaela to bear. Two warriors of her own rank, slain like insects by the Cherub, who had now regained at least half of his true power.

"HAAHH!!" Tarnael opened a dimensional portal above Thranatis' head, attempting to trap him by surprise.

The portal spiraled downward, enclosing the cherub, ready to crush him with interdimensional force. It snapped shut violently, yet Thranatis blocked it with his bare hands.

"WHAT!? Impossible!?" Tarnael gasped in horror, seeing Thranatis halt the portal's collapse with brute strength.

"Fernia Relica: Fifth Reveal – Misty Breath!" Igorus exhaled black smoke toward Thranatis, but the cherub shattered the dimensional portal and, with a powerful motion of his wings, unleashed a cataclysmic gust of air. The shockwave hurled Tarnael, Kaela, and Igorus backward under the weight of an unimaginable force.

The bodies of angels, pegasi, and nephilim were flung through the air; the flames were snuffed out as Thranatis stood motionless and ascetic at the center of it all.

In the midst of the kingdom, Meleagel watched in terror at the sheer might of Thranatis, paralyzed, his will to fight extinguished.

"This... this can't be real. A power like that shouldn't exist. The world will be destroyed by this nightmare. There's no reason left to fight," he murmured hopelessly, sinking to his knees on the blood-soaked ground among the fallen angels. His trembling eyes fixed on the pools of divine blood, the lifeless bodies surrounding him.

"Hah... hahahahaha... No, no. I can't do it. I can't," he muttered, shaking, his breathing shallow and panicked.

"No, no, no, no! I can't! I can't! No! NOOO!"

"Why can't you...?"

"Haahh!? Who's there!?" Meleagel stammered, terrified.

"Why are you afraid to show your true self, Meleagel?" the eerie, chilling voice asked.

"Show yourself now! Who's there!?" Meleagel cried, spinning around in desperation.

"Why don't you show yourself? Are you that afraid to see what you really are? Afraid of your own blood? Of your origin, so different from the others?" the voice taunted.

"No... n-no, that's not true," Meleagel muttered nervously.

"You should be blessed. Proud, even, that you share the same blood as me," came the voice, before the twelfth Kindu's spirit fragment appeared before him. She wore a crimson gown, her golden hair flowing, her face devoid of any features. Her hand, graceful and tempting, traced along Meleagel's jawline.

"H-Haahhhhaaaa!!! Y-You're—You're her!" Meleagel gasped in horror and awe.

"Hmmhmmhmm... Drink," Kindu whispered, raising her hand to reveal a severed angel's head.

Meleagel's mouth hung open, saliva dripping as the intoxicating scent of divine blood clouded his mind with unbearable temptation.

"Drink... and you will know only bliss. Drink..."

Kindu tilted the head above his lips, the blood trickling down into Meleagel's open mouth.

Thranatis turned the eyes on his wings back toward the kingdom, sensing something unusual unfolding there. His eyeless face remained still and expressionless. Igorus struggled to his feet, as did Tarnael and Kaela, their bodies bruised and battered, scattered across the battlefield, staring up at the cherub from dozens of meters away.

"Tch! Where's Meleagel?" Kaela asked, her voice tight with frustration.

"Hmm!?" Igorus reacted, sensing something strange stirring within the kingdom.

"It's him," Tarnael muttered just as a crimson lightning bolt struck the land.

Thranatis' pointed ears twitched with curiosity. From the fiery horizon, a figure cloaked in blood-red energy soared above the ruins, descending with tremendous speed toward them. When it landed, the impact sent a plume of smoke billowing into the air.

Through the haze, the figure was revealed, kneeling with one leg forward, his right hand resting upon his knee. He spread his wings: reptilian, scaled in crimson and black, from which hung limp golden hands, tethered by sinews to the underside of each wing. Two serpents, a corn snake (Elaphe guttata) and a yellow-headed krait (Bungarus flaviceps), coiled from his shoulders, hissing menacingly as his crimson eyes with vertical black slits locked upon Thranatis.

Scales of gold and red crawled unevenly across his body, on his chest, his arms, even parts of his face, as he rose to his feet, standing defiantly only meters from the cherub. The two locked gazes, predator and god, neither wavering.

Meleagel extended his left hand. Within moments, a trident, glowing red like molten iron and eerily reminiscent of Neptune's weapon, manifested before him. He caught it in a single motion.

"The weapon of the Principals... Burughes," Tarnael whispered to himself.

The form Meleagel had assumed was known as Guttrades, an attempt by angels to imitate the Dramyte state by consuming the blood of lesser angels. Yet only the Principals could perform it, their lineage closest to that of the Dramytes, specifically, the offspring of Edin'Borghia, who themselves were not pure Dramytes, though that truth would only be revealed later. The act was forbidden, taboo among angels, for its demonic nature... but sometimes, such sacrifices were necessary.

"Meleagel..." Kaela murmured in alarm.

"I just hope he stands a chance against him," Igorus muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the two figures facing off.

Meleagel wasted no time. He lunged, thrusting his trident straight at Thranatis. The strike connected, but Thranatis was gone, now perched casually atop the trident's shaft, arms folded across his chest.

In an instant, Thranatis lashed out with his lower wings, striking Meleagel so hard he was flung backward several meters. Meleagel jammed the trident into the ground, anchoring himself before he was pushed any farther. But Thranatis was already upon him again.

Meleagel barely managed to pull his weapon free before Thranatis's fist came crashing toward him. Using the trident like a lever, Meleagel vaulted backward just as the blow landed, splitting the earth beneath them in two.

"Drami Skriva — Shikna Burughes!" Meleagel roared.

The two serpents on his shoulders hissed violently, slithering down the trident's length before merging with it. Their heads fused with the weapon's tips, forming a grotesque new blade of four elongated, razor-sharp fangs. Their eyes merged into a single large one, golden, with four black irises spinning within its center.

Thranatis landed gracefully between the two halves of the fractured earth, and vanished. His flight was so fast, so violent, that the very cliffs crumbled as he streaked downward toward the molten chasms below.

Meleagel gripped his transformed trident with both hands above his head, channeling an intense red Lapis within its core. With a shout, he swung the weapon down, releasing a colossal beam, a crimson torrent fired from the serpents' united mouths. The ray roared across the battlefield toward Thranatis like a divine laser of annihilation.

"What!?" Meleagel gasped as Thranatis flew straight through the crimson beam, unscathed, gliding as though through water. In the blink of an eye, Thranatis appeared before him, dispersing the energy wave with a single motion of his wings.

"HAAAAHHHH!!!" Meleagel screamed, thrusting his trident again.

Thranatis dodged smoothly, the serpentine fangs slicing through empty air. With the back of his right hand, he struck Meleagel across the face, sending him reeling backward under the force of the blow.

"Tch! Drami Skriva — Trompri Kosanangisa!" Meleagel shouted.

Above them, colossal angelic figures of gold appeared among the clouds, each wielding gleaming trombones. The heavens themselves became an orchestral stage, and the scaly conductor below raised his arms in command.

"Cover your ears!" Tarnael shouted. He, Kaela, and Igorus obeyed instantly, pressing their palms against their heads.

The golden angels began to play. The unholy resonance that poured from their instruments tore through the air, an unbearable frequency that shattered the bodies of the fallen angels around them. Ruins splintered; the earth quaked beneath the divine cacophony. Every note of the celestial march carried destruction.

"NGHHHKKHH!!" Igorus gritted his teeth, his body shaking from the internal vibrations.

Kaela collapsed to the ground, hands clamped over her ears, unable to withstand the overwhelming sound.

"These are... the melodies of death, Thra—" Meleagel's words were cut short as he froze, staring at Thranatis, who stood calmly, utterly unaffected, showing no sign of resistance or pain.

"It was indeed... a beautiful melody," Thranatis said quietly.

One of his wings, specifically, the lower left, shifted and morphed into a massive black hand. From its palm poured an immense tide of pitch-black ink, spreading outward like a living shadow. It engulfed the golden angels, staining them, dissolving their divine light along with their instruments and the clouds beneath their feet.

The sound ceased. Silence fell once more over the battlefield. The earth and the heavens above it lay still, smothered by Thranatis' unholy calm.

"He defeated a technique like that... without even flinching," said Kaela in disbelief.

"That filthy bastard," muttered Igorus under his breath as he watched Thranatis turn the inky black hand back into his wing.

"I still have more to show," said Meleagel, raising his trident once more, preparing for battle.

"Good. I've tested my strength," murmured Thranatis to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"What are you talking about?" asked Meleagel, confused.

"Now it's my turn," said Thranatis, before vanishing in a burst of speed, this time far faster than before.

"Damn it! I have to—" Meleagel tried to react, but Thranatis was already upon him. He spun his trident with desperate speed, turning it into a makeshift shield, but—

"KHAAHHKK!"

Thranatis shattered the trident into dozens of pieces with sheer velocity, slamming his forehead into Meleagel's face with crushing force. The impact echoed like thunder. Then, in one fluid motion, Thranatis drove his left foot into Meleagel's stomach, sending him hurtling toward the ground. But before Meleagel even hit, Thranatis was already there, waiting, his speed unimaginable. As Meleagel fell within reach, Thranatis drove his left elbow into his back, forcing blood to burst from Meleagel's mouth.

Meleagel tried to twist around to strike back, but Thranatis was already gone, appearing behind him in an instant. He grabbed both of Meleagel's wings and yanked with merciless strength.

"AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" Meleagel screamed in agony as Thranatis planted his foot against his back to tear them off more easily.

"You don't deserve these wings," Thranatis said coldly, and ripped them from Meleagel's body. Blood poured from the gaping wounds, glowing like molten metal.

Meleagel collapsed to the ground, trembling, struggling to hold himself up with shaking arms, his breath shallow and ragged under the weight of pain beyond comprehension.

"You're nothing but a failed imitation," said Thranatis as the sharklike wing on his back morphed into a mass of jagged black teeth that lunged toward Meleagel, ready to end him.

But just before the blow landed, Thranatis vanished.

He suddenly found himself standing in the middle of a dense tropical forest. Confused, he looked around as a group of aboriginal tribesmen, their skin painted and their bodies adorned with feathers and primitive ornaments, surrounded him in awe and fearful curiosity.

Back on the battlefield, Thranatis had completely disappeared. Tarnael stood with his hands extended forward, breathing heavily.

"I teleported him somewhere far, maybe thousands of kilometers away," said Tarnael, his voice strained from the immense Lapis energy he had spent to send the creature away.

"What are we supposed to do about him? He's stronger than all of us combined. How do you even defeat something like that?" asked Kaela, panic breaking through her composure.

Igorus watched them both silently, his gaze shifting to Meleagel's broken body lying nearby, his severed wings sprawled beside him.

"Even if we summoned every soldier left, it would be pointless. It would only lead to more deaths. I'm the only Marshal still alive, no general, no captain, no army could stand against him. Only Uanamangura might have a chance," said Kaela, turning her eyes toward Igorus.

"Uanamangura is far too young to face Thranatis. There's only one way," said Tarnael.

Igorus turned to him, as did Kaela, listening closely.

"We have to release his brother and sister," said Tarnael.

"That's insane!" Kaela snapped. "What if they're worse than him? What if they join forces? What the hell are we supposed to do then? Who would stop them?"

"Then what do you suggest?" Tarnael shot back. "Do you have a better plan? Do you know anyone else who could stand against Thranatis?"

Kaela clenched her fists, trembling with frustration and helplessness. Igorus looked at the two siblings, frightened, exhausted, and uncertain. He felt the same fear and hopelessness himself... though he didn't show it.

"Nuoohk!" Meleagel gasped suddenly.

"Who did you say you were going to free?" came a voice from behind Tarnael.

"Hahh!" Tarnael spun around in shock, as did Kaela and Igorus.

"H-how!? Tarnael sent you out of this world! How did you—!?" Kaela stammered, her voice trembling between fear and disbelief.

"Disgusting," murmured Thranatis as he tossed to the ground a handful of bones, the remains of the aboriginal humans, and the feathers from their tattered garments.

Then his hollowed eyes turned downward, piercing through layers of earth until they reached the dome of Sizran beneath the ground. He could see it clearly, the concentrated Lapis energy, the faint shimmer of angelic life forces huddled together inside that shelter.

"Perhaps I can make this scene... more entertaining," he said to himself, turning his gaze toward Tarnael, Kaela, and Igorus.

"I won't let you!" roared Meleagel, hurling himself at Thranatis with all the strength he could muster, though he could no longer fly.

Thranatis sidestepped effortlessly and drove a punch into Meleagel's stomach. As the broken angel doubled over, Thranatis grabbed him by the hair and flung him aside like a discarded doll.

"So boring," he muttered, just as Kaela shot forward through the air, sword in hand, eyes burning with fury.

"Kaela!" Igorus shouted in alarm.

"You'll pay for everything you've done, Thranatis!" she screamed.

"Foolish," said Thranatis, plucking a single feather from his right wing.

"Huh!?" Tarnael reacted, sensing something terrible.

"But I'll let you live... so you can suffer later," said Thranatis, flicking the feather with his fingers.

Kaela swung her sword to intercept it "Don't underestimate—!" but the force of the attack was far greater than she had anticipated. The feather struck her like a cannon blast, flinging her backward and slamming her into the ground.

"Haah!? Where did he go!?" Tarnael shouted, scanning the sky.

"He's headed for the kingdom!" cried Igorus, taking off after him.

"That bastard... what is he planning?" Tarnael said, helping Kaela to her feet as she struggled to rise.

Thranatis now stood before the great dome. His pointed ears twitched as he listened, hearing the faintest murmurs, the whispers, the small frightened voices inside.

"Mom, are we safe here?" a child's voice asked from within.

"As long as King Frizina protects us, nothing bad will happen," replied the mother softly.

"When can we go outside again?"

"We'll stay here for the rest of the day."

"I just hope nothing happens to our kingdom..." murmured the angels to each other.

Thranatis raised his left hand toward the dome and whispered:

"Let it begin, the Requiem of Blood."

"Nghh!" the mother suddenly gasped, clutching her chest.

"Mom?" her child asked, frightened.

Her eyes began to lose their color. Her skin turned deathly pale. Her teeth sharpened into fangs. And then, she sank them into her son's neck.

"AAAHHHH!!!" the boy screamed in horror.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING!? AAHHHHH!!!"

"AAHHHHHHHH!!!"

"GET AWAY FROM ME! MONSTER!!! AAGGGHHHH!!!"

Inside the dome, chaos erupted. Angels tore each other apart, devouring flesh and bone in a frenzy of hunger. The sanctuary had become a slaughterhouse, a place of madness and despair. Flesh was ripped from bone, intestines and organs splattered across the crystal floor. Nails turned to claws. Screams were drowned in wet tearing sounds and gurgled cries. Blood poured down from within the dome like a waterfall, turning it into a crimson cube, a ghastly monument dripping with death.

Igorus arrived at the scene. His body trembled. His breath caught in his throat.

"I've never felt such... lust for blood. It's horrifying..." he whispered.

Tarnael teleported beside him with Kaela. His eyes widened, his expression shattering the calm he had always maintained. He felt disgust, fear, awe, emotions that words could no longer contain. Kaela's eyes widened at the sight of the river of blood cascading beneath the dome.

"W-what the hell is happening!?" she screamed.

The blood-filled dome burst open like a volcano, but instead of lava, an ocean of blood surged out in every direction.

"THRANATIIISSS!!!" Tarnael roared in rage.

Blood rained down on Thranatis, soaking him. He ran his tongue along his cheek and sighed in ecstasy.

"Finally... something delicious," he murmured, entranced by his own grotesque masterpiece.

From the broken dome, new creatures began to crawl out like newborn birds from shattered eggs. Each one stood three meters tall, with two golden wings, one side bearing the head of a griffin, the other that of a goat. Their skin was white as bone, their bodies naked and eyeless, save for a golden orb embedded where their eyes should have been, just like Thranatis' own. Their mouths were filled with rows of sharklike teeth.

Over fifteen thousand of these abominations emerged, trembling with hunger, their minds lost to madness; The Archangels, born of corrupted holiness and divine blood.

"How could he... do something like this... to the innocent..." whispered Tarnael, his voice breaking.

"DAMN YOU, THRANATIS!!!" Kaela screamed, her fury drowning out her fear as she prepared to charge.

"Stop!" Igorus grabbed her arm mid-flight.

"How could he!? That monster! DAMN YOU! LET ME GO!" she shouted, struggling to break free.

"We have to get out of here! There's no way we can fight this many, not them, not him. Tarnael! Teleport us out, now!" Igorus ordered.

Tarnael could no longer keep up the shell of cold composure he'd worn until now. It shattered completely in the face of this horror.

"Archangels... How did Thranatis even know how to create them?" he whispered, terror-stricken, watching the swarm rise like a plague of locusts, thousands of golden-winged horrors flooding into the sky.

Thranatis turned his head toward them and smiled.

And far above, in the Tower of Virgiel, upon the Ninth Circle, Xael stood calmly on his balcony, reading a book. As the sky dimmed with crimson clouds, he looked out the window and smirked.

"You're enjoying yourself far too much... Thranatis," he murmured, brushing aside his long hair. Beneath it, his right ear came into view, sharply pointed, with small feathers of white, violet, and black fanning out behind it...