Episode 197 - The biggest foe

The demon’s arms carved through the air, arched and sweeping, as it charged toward Nero. Without hesitation, he conjured an engraved rune of motionless freeze beneath it, trying to bind its legs. But even as they petrified, the demon shattered them and regenerated new ones in a burst of fire, never breaking stride. Nero countered by conjuring a blazing chain, wrapping it around its neck, fighting fire with fire.
—Stop and die! —shouted Nero.
The demon let out a thunderous laugh, leaping upon Nero, slamming him to the ground, and shattering the chain into three fragments. One remained around its neck, glowing like a burning noose.
—NO MORTAL COMMANDS BOGALLO, THE UNHOLY! —roared the demon, its face inches from Nero’s.
—Get off! —Nero yelled. A burst of blue lightning hurled the demon through the air, but not far enough, and it barely harmed him. Nero stood, wiping sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

He raised his wand again as he rose to his feet, and hundreds of armored skeletons rose with him. Waves of blue lightning surged from Nero’s wand, flooding into the decayed corpses of the warriors who had once fought upon the Bloodfire Battlefield. What rose again were not human, but the spirit of battle had not left them.

The fallen warriors and Bogallo clashed. Blue lightning leaked through the cracks of the rotting corpses as they fought. Bogallo hurled flaming skulls and swept them aside with brutal swings of his arms. It was a spectacle of carnage and power. No matter how many times Bogallo tore the warriors apart, ripping and scattering their limbs, they reformed again, raising their blades and, where possible, their unhinged jaws. The only reason they held the demon at bay was sheer number. Meanwhile, Nero fended off skulls and flame spirits, using every defensive spell he could remember.

The fight reached a stalemate: neither side gaining ground. But if things stayed that way, Nero would be the one to fall; exhaustion affected him, not the demons.

—Do we intervene? —said Larinca.
Siphone nodded, but grabbed her arm before she could move.
—Use long-range magic, and don’t stand in front of Nero—she said. Her eyes gleamed with the fire of battle for a brief moment—It’s not safe.

Both dashed into the open field and began attacking Bogallo. Larinca’s culinary glyphs struck him hard, blasting him backward in a torrent of fresh fruit that turned to ash on contact with the demon’s body. Meanwhile, Siphone snapped her fingers repeatedly, triggering controlled explosions around the demon, targeting key points to throw off his balance. Larinca whistled; it was rare to see Siphone fight at full strength outside of academy duels. She was the only one who had ever technically defeated Daomr, the most violent duelist in the academy, proving her mastery of magic by casting without even needing a wand.

The demon charged at them, flinging flames and skulls. Larinca cleared the air with a torrent of food, but her magic couldn’t stop the fire. Fortunately, Siphone raised the ground itself into a stone wall, deflecting the blaze. But despite his age, Bogallo was still agile; he vaulted the barrier in two massive strides, closing the distance. Larinca unleashed her power, transforming into her demonic form, growing taller, gaining the strength to deflect Bogallo’s claws with her fists. Siphone chose not to transform, instead moving constantly, striking at the demon’s supporting legs. Between the two of them, they kept him occupied just long enough for Nero to recover.

Thanks to the time his friends had bought him, Nero attacked Bogallo from a blind spot. Channeling all the magic he could muster, he rose into the air, floating, surrounded by red and blue lightning. He unleashed a storm of magical thunder upon the demon. Caught off guard and overwhelmed by the three warlocks attacking in unison, Bogallo fled toward the carriage, but the storm followed him, striking him and everything nearby with violent bolts of energy. Nero convulsed midair, eyes rolled back, foam spilling from his lips. The flood of magic was overloading his body, it was a miracle he was still alive.

Bogallo’s situation, however, was no better. Even using the carriage as a shield, lightning still rained upon him, its power doubling as his flames merged with Nero’s storm. The demonic magic latent within the carriage reacted violently to the electrifying surge, amplifying it further. Now, the storm clouds, rain, and lightning mixed with the inferno, the flame spirits, and the escaping skulls.

—Get down! —Siphone shouted.
The carriage exploded. By instinct, Larinca conjured the basic defensive glyph: the protection of the academy grounds. A shimmering barrier of energy, like the one surrounding the academy itself, shielded them from the wave of devastation that followed. It wasn’t a magical explosion, it was thermal, pure and raw.

When the dust settled, nothing remained of Bogallo or the carriage. A new crater scarred the Bloodfire Battlefield, adding fresh ruin to the desolate plain. The warriors Nero had raised began to crumble, both flesh and rusted metal turning to black ash scattered by the wind.

But the magic hadn’t faded. Floating above the crater, red and blue flames spiraled together, twining with the remnants of souls and skulls once trapped in the carriage. Wild flashes of untamed magic struck Nero, binding him to the fiery vortex.

Barely conscious, Nero let go of his wand. The magic around him vanished, and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He couldn’t see, hear, or feel. His body convulsed, without his wand to channel it, his magic tried to escape on its own, turning him into a blazing conduit. His body glowed and trembled, what any non-mage would mistake for an epileptic seizure. The power flooding from him was so immense his brain couldn’t send signals to his body; soon, cut off from his own mind, his vital functions would fail, and he’d die of hypoxia.

“Let it go, boy,” a voice said. It was near and distant at the same time, somewhere beyond his reach.

“Let what go? What do you mean?” Nero thought. As he did, a jolt ran down his spine. He realized he wasn’t just thinking, he was projecting his thoughts with magic.

“You’ll die. Do you want to die?” The voice was deep, masculine, commanding.

To his misfortune, Nero hesitated. Years of mistreatment, of being different in everyone’s eyes, of feeling despised even by his own mother, had scarred his soul. He didn’t feel worthy of life, of existing in this world, or any other. Nero’s greatest enemy had always been himself, for he had never truly learned to love who he was.

“I see your heart, boy. It’s a dark place, but it does not lie. Let it go!” the voice thundered. Nero had no choice but to obey, even if he didn’t understand.

—Nero! Open your eyes! —It was Larinca’s voice, shouting at him.
Slowly, Nero regained control of his body. He was lying on the ground, his head resting on Larinca’s lap. She was dripping water onto his lips, hoping a few drops would reach his tongue.
—I’m fine —Nero lied.
—Then hurry up and be great, because this isn’t over yet —said Siphone.

The magical explosion that had once been the carriage still spewed skulls, flames, and flame spirits. Lightning crackled erratically in the air. Nero was still magically linked to the vortex, so, without even standing up, he took a breath and did what he’d been told:

He let that go.

Unbound from any warlock, the magic erupted in one final spectacle of light, wailing souls, spectral fire, skulls, and lightning. The three warlocks watched in awe until only one last skull remained, floating in the air. It was enormous: its interior pulsing with lightning, three rows of jagged teeth, two massive horns, and sharp bones forming a hooked, predatory nose. It roared and laughed like no other.

Larinca rose, ready to strike it down with her culinary glyphs, but Nero stopped her.
—Even as a skull, Varkuzhal is still the deadliest demon in Axbryn—Nero said.
—Varkuzhal? —Larinca repeated.
—Varkuzhal… the same one who fought the Goddess Velmar on this very ground? —said Siphone, staring at the skull. Beads of sweat ran down her temple.
—That’s… that’s his skull, yes—Nero said.
—And he’s alive—Siphone murmured. Her apparent calm was only a mask—inside, she was terrified.

—I HAVE NEVER DIED, GIRL —said Varkuzhal, bursting into laughter.
The three warlocks froze. Archdemons rarely communicated with mortals, and even less when it wasn’t to form a pact. Varkuzhal’s skull tilted toward them. From that angle, the hollows of his eyes revealed a faint flame deep inside, as if connected to some dark place, one of those places that, once entered, one never returns from.

—YOU HAVE DEFEATED BOGALLO, MY CAPTOR —said Varkuzhal.

They didn’t answer. They all knew the story of that demon. He was one of the few who had once faced the Goddess Velmar in a one-on-one duel—and nearly won. They were standing before a legend, one of the most dangerous beings to ever exist.

—AXBRYNIANS, HUMANS, AND DEMONS HAVE GROWN ARROGANT AND SELF-IMPORTANT. TO THINK YOU COULD IMPRISON A GOD, ME, AS IF I WERE SOME LESSER DEMON —said Varkuzhal. His voice was so intense it nearly forced them to their knees—. BUT YOU... YOU HAVE PROVEN YOUR USEFULNESS. I OFFER YOU A DEAL.

Nero almost choked on his own surprise. Varkuzhal, the single most powerful demon alive in Axbryn, was offering them a deal. A pact. A bond with a demon, just like that.
That reeked of trouble.

—I CAN READ YOUR MINDS. CHOOSE A BETTER ANSWER —said Varkuzhal.

—Is… do we even have a choice? —said Nero at last.

—The lie is the choice, Nero. There is none —said Siphone, folding her arms.

—CLEVER GIRL —said Varkuzhal.

—What’s the deal? —asked Larinca.

—REUNITE ME WITH MY BODY. I HAVE WAITED PATIENTLY, CONTROLLING DEMONS FOR CENTURIES, SEARCHING FOR EVERY SEVERED PIECE OF MYSELF. I HAVE FOUND THEM ALL, EXCEPT FOR THE PLACE WHERE THAT WRETCHED GODDESS VELMAR STRUCK THE FINAL BLOW —said Varkuzhal.

—And why do you need us if you’ve already found your body? —said Nero.

—I CANNOT ACCESS IT. I HAVE MANAGED TO REUNITE THE PIECES, BUT MY HEAD, MY MAGIC… CURSED VELMAR. I CANNOT BREACH HER BARRIER. I NEED SOMEONE WITH A TRACE OF DIVINITY TO LEAD ME THERE. HELP ME, BOY. FIND MY BODY. I’LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW, ALL HIDDEN SECRETS —said Varkuzhal.

And speaking directly into Nero’s mind, he added:
“I know your father,” said Varkuzhal. Nero jerked upright.
“Did you really know my father?” thought Nero. His heart raced. He had always longed to know who his father was, but his mother had never spoken a word about it.
“First the body, boy! Then the answers!” replied Varkuzhal.

—Nero, don’t listen to him —said Siphone—. He’ll kill us once he gets what he wants.
—He could kill us already. And we don’t really have a choice —said Nero, pointing at the remains of the demonic carriage—. We’ll accept, under one condition.
—DONE —said Varkuzhal.

Nero’s wand cracked. From within it, a beam of blue and red light surged out before the fissure sealed again, though not completely. The skull began to shrink until it was the size of a human head. Nero carefully picked it up and tied it to his belt with a simple knot.

—So now it’s an accessory? What did you ask for? —said Siphone.

—Transportation —said Nero, nodding ahead.

Two blazing steeds emerged from the ground. They were demonic horses made of pure flame, yet solid, intelligent, and alive. Their fire radiated intense heat, but when the warlocks reached out to touch them, it didn’t burn. The temperature was normal, almost like their own, though everything else, even the ground beneath their hooves, ignited as they passed.

—They’ll take us to Ravidra —said Nero.
—You’re insane —said Siphone.
—He’s a genius —said Larinca, climbing onto one of the steeds.
—That’s not what I said —muttered Siphone, mounting the other.

Nero approached Siphone’s steed to climb up behind her, but she tugged the creature’s mane and pulled it away.
—You wish —said Siphone.

Nero turned to Larinca, who gestured for him to ride behind her. Once settled, his arms around his best friend’s waist, the four of them, Varkuzhal included, set off toward the abandoned city.

The rest of the journey passed, surprisingly, without incident. Traveling with the most dangerous archdemon ever known was a foolproof way to keep trouble at bay. They made several stops along the way. They could have reached their destination in one go, since the demonic horses never tired, but their riders did.

They took turns sleeping, even though there were no visible threats nearby. Whenever he could, Nero gazed up at the overcast sky, hoping that one of the places where they stopped might be a vestige of Velmardia’s Grace, where he could, for the first time, see Axbryn’s night sky. It was one of his oldest wishes, something that made him deeply human: to long for what one cannot have, while ignoring what one already does.

By the third night, they finally saw, in the distance, the outer walls of Ravidra, the Forgotten City. The fortifications bore the marks of cannon fire, with entire sections collapsed, not just from time’s decay. Nature had reclaimed much of it, but despite the greenery, the lands surrounding the city remained inhospitable.

—A great battle of Axbryn was fought here —said Siphone, admiring the city’s architectural beauty from afar.
—But it is now completely abandoned —said Nero—. It’s terrible to think that, at any moment, Sylthmir could be reduced to this: an empty, lifeless shell of what it once was.
—What’s the plan? Do we go straight in, house by house, garden by garden, looking for the flower? —said Larinca.
—The most direct route will be best. I don’t expect company here —said Siphone—. Especially not with Mister Sunshine in the group.

Varkuzhal ground his teeth. Nero sighed. The demon had spoken only to him during the trip, actively ignoring the two women. That had made Siphone bold enough to start giving him mocking nicknames.

—Since he doesn’t talk to me, I don’t see why I should respect him —Siphone had said, ignoring the fact that they were likely in the presence of the deadliest creature they would ever meet.

Still, the demon’s constant chatter had one silver lining: Nero no longer dreamed of the library. His recurring nightmares had stopped. He dreamed of nothing now, but the void was better than the uncontrollable visions that always left him drenched in sweat.

—We’ll reach the city around midnight. The sensible thing is to find somewhere to spend the night, preferably with a roof, walls, and doors —said Nero.
—How refined you’ve become, my lord —said Siphone. Nero and Larinca exchanged a look of surprise at the teasing tone in her voice, which made Siphone blush instantly and turn defensive—. What? Am I not allowed to make jokes?
—It’s just… we’re not used to it —said Nero.
—WHAT NERO MEANS IS THAT YOU’RE STIFFER THAN THE ROD YOU CHANNEL YOUR MAGIC WITH —boomed Varkuzhal suddenly. Siphone froze, fists clenched. Nero glared at the skull, but though expressionless, it clearly seemed amused.
—Enough nonsense. Let’s go! —snapped Siphone, urging her steed to quicken its pace.

They reached Ravidra’s walls under the cover of night. Up close, the city was an architectural marvel. Once, it must have been a heavenly sight: an immense metropolis full of life, laughter, and clamor. But now, after countless centuries abandoned, it was little more than a corpse they were about to desecrate.

They ascended through the main street, where nature, fire, and demons had taken their toll. Not a single soul could be heard, though the wind rattled doors and windows, threatening to tear them from their hinges. There were footprints in the dirt, half-buried under sand and gravel, and water still flowed freely through the city’s irrigation and aqueduct systems.

They found a house midway up the main street that looked like a good place to camp. It had access to an aqueduct for drinking water, a hearth and chimney for fire, and doors and windows in better shape than most. It even had a second and third floor with windows, perfect for keeping watch.

—It’s perfect —said Nero. Siphone nodded in approval.
—We’ll sleep in shifts —said Siphone—. Larinca, you take first watch.

Hours passed. The city was silent. Siphone sat in a corner, wrapped in a blanket, head resting forward. Nero slept deeply, dreamless, thanks to Varkuzhal’s influence and proximity. But Larinca shook him gently yet urgently awake.

—What is it? Is it my turn already? —said Nero. But Larinca was waking Siphone too, so something was definitely wrong.
—You need to see this —she said once they were both awake.

Still half-asleep, they followed her up to the watch post on the third floor. From there, they could see nearly the entire city, the house was one of the tallest. Not a soul in sight. Not even demons, which was unusual, given how exposed they were.

—What are we supposed to see? —asked Siphone, puzzled.

Larinca pointed upward, toward Ravidra Castle. The structure was colossal, crowning the city from its mountain perch, towering high and proud as if daring the rest of Axbryn to surpass it. The three of them stared.

Dozens of torches were burning in the courtyard. And many more flickered through the castle windows.