Chapter 211 - Demon Council

In the west, far away from human lands and even further from the lands of light and hope, laid a continent, which was forbidden for a thousand years.

Demon Continent.

This continent was never claimed by any human kingdom. Nobody of merchants ever visited here. There was no ship, which was able to approach its coast.

The skies above this continent were always black.

Twisted black clouds illuminated from inside with crimson lightning filled the sky. The smell of the burned ashes and old blood was filling the air. The mountains of black rocks pierced the clouds as fangs, and between them flowed the rivers of dark mana – not water, but dark energy, shining with sickly purple light.

In the middle of this continent stood an ancient fortress.

The Demon Citadel.

Its towers pierced the clouds, while the stone walls were carved with faces of demons—ancient nightmare creatures whose eyes were full of pain, and whose mouths were forever screaming. The stone itself had life and was beating like heart.

And in the depth of this fortress...

...something was breathing.

Slowly. Patience.

Waiting.

In the highest room of the citadel there were seven enormous chairs around black round table.

The table was made of obsidian, and its surface was polished to mirror-like level. There were some ancient runic symbols on its edges, which were glowing with faint crimson light. And seven chairs, designed for lords of enormous power. Each one of those was decorated with some symbols, which represented the demon who was sitting on it.

Six of them were occupied.

One was waiting for its lord to come.

No. It belongs to him, who sits over them all.

In the far end of the room there was an enormous black chair, rising from floor like dark monument. On the back of the chair there were some scenes of ancient battles, while the arms of this throne were carved as the heads of roaring beast.

There was somebody sitting on this throne.

Noctis.

The Seventh Demon General. Lord of the Seven Generals. Sealed supreme commander of the Demon Army.

The body of this demon was covered with dark armor, which absorbed all light around it—not reflected it, not deflected it, but devoured it. This armor was ancient, and was covered with some runes, which were pulsating with heartbeat rhythm. Two crimson eyes were staring at the room without any emotions—eyes, which were hiding centuries of patience and cruelty.

He did not say a word from the moment of beginning of the council.

Nobody dared to say anything before him.

To the right side from the Lord Noctis was sitting Draven.

The Black Warlord.

This demon was enormous, and was covered with black armor, on which there were numerous scars of past battles. This scar showed a wound, which could kill any other creature, a battle in which his life was hanging on the thread. The gigantic weapon rested on the floor near his chair—a blade of the sword, which was chipped and stained with blood of many enemies.

Beside him there was Morgatha.

The Witch of Eternal Curses.

She was dressed in long dark robes, which were moving even though there was no wind. Some strange magical symbols were floating in the air near her hands, and rotating slowly. The face of this witch was beautiful in its terribleness—pale and sharp, eyes were showing knowledge of many forbidden spells.

Lokiar was sitting next to her.

The Lord of Illusions.

The face of this demon was hidden behind silver mask, which was smooth and featureless. Sometimes his body was solid, sometimes was looking like smoke, flickering on the edges and threatening to disappear. It was unpleasant to look at his face—this demon was a reminder that reality itself could be changed by someone, who had enough power.

The next chair was occupied by Grom.

The Beast King.

His enormous body was barely fitting into the chair, while muscles were bulging under dark fur of his body. His claws—each one was like a dagger—were resting on the table, scratching it deeply. The yellow eyes of the Beast King were staring at the middle of the chamber with hungry anticipation.

And the last demon...

Azrael.

The Silent Observer.

The Second Demon General.

He was sitting quietly and his arms were crossed. Unlike to others, this demon did not carry any visible weapon—there was neither a blade nor a staff nor the claws on him. But the looks of this demon was reminding about his power—almost human face with sharp features and dark hair falling down on the forehead. Everyone knew that this demon was not to be underestimated.

Azrael had survived for millennia. He had participated in the Great Demon War. He had faced the Sword King himself and survived.

This alone was enough to show his power.

Nobody in this room was talking.

Then enormous doors of the room were opened.

Demon soldier entered. The black armor and spikes, and the faint red glow in his eyes. This demon immediately fell on his knee, and bowed his head.

"My Lord Noctis."

Noctis looked at him. His voice was quiet—barely above a whisper—yet it was resounding through the whole chamber.

"Speak."

The soldier bent even lower.

"The prisoners are ready."

Draven smiled. This smile was terrible—the smile of predator, who cornered his pray.

"Excellent."

He stood. The sound of his armor rubbing on the chair echoed in the room.

Five chains were dragged along the stones behind him.

And at the ends of this chains there were five people.

Five young warriors. Five Legendary Divine Mark bearers. They were bleeding with cuts, bruises and burns—signs of their failed battles. The ancient magical restraints were surrounding their necks and wrists with dark energy, suppressing their powers.

Despite all the pain they were conscious.

One of them glared at Draven. His eyes were burning with rage.

"You monsters..."

Draven smiled. His laughter was cold.

"Monster?"

Draven took one step forward. His steps sounded around the chamber.

"You possess powers that belonged to the ancient Gods."

He pointed at glowing marks on their bodies—Legendary Divine Marks, divine blessing symbols, that had been handed down generations ago.

"And still you call us monsters?"

Prisoner tried to struggle under the chains. His voice was angry.

"You won’t get away with that."

Draven’s smile widened.

"We don’t need to."

He looked at Noctis.

"Because once the ritual starts..."

His tone became cold.

"... Demon Emperor will return."

The chamber fell silent.

Even the five prisoners looked scared.

Azrael finally opened his eyes.

"Zuko."

Draven nodded.

"It’s the time."

Morgatha slowly rose up. Her robes were moving like shadows, and her fingers were moving through the air in patterns of dark magic.

A giant magical formation appeared over the table.

There appeared seven symbols around a huge black circle. Each symbol was representing a Legendary Divine Mark—the part of the divine power that had been scattered in the world after Great Demon War.

"The Divine Seal has existed for one thousand years."

Her voice was quiet, but it was bearing weight of centuries.

"But it was never permanent."

The magical formation was spinning around.

There appeared the picture of huge black structure hidden somewhere in Demon Continent. This structure was immeasurably large—it was the prison created by the Gods themselves and designed to contain a creature of unimaginable power.

Chains. Thousand of them. They were surrounding something huge, something invisible through the darkness.

Something living.

Morgatha continued.

"The Gods created the Divine Seal after Great Demon War."

She lifted her hand.

There appeared seven golden lights.

"Seven Legendary Divine Marks."

They slowly formed the circle.

"Seven vessels containing parts of the divine power."

Draven smiled.

"We already have five."

Morgatha nodded.

"Five."

She looked at the prisoners. Her eyes were cold, calculated.

"Their power will be taken out and used to strengthen the seal."

One of the prisoners shouted. His voice cracked with despair.

"You’ll never destroy it!"

Morgatha looked at him. Her expression didn’t change.

"You misunderstood."

The prisoner stopped.

"We aren’t going to destroy the seal."

She smiled. This wasn’t a pleasant smile.

"We are going to open it."

The magical picture changed.

The chains surrounding Zuko were breaking.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

Low vibration appeared in the chamber.

Grom’s eyes narrowed.

"So we need two more."

Morgatha shook her head.

"No."

Grom frowned.

"Then what?"

Morgatha’s expression became serious.

"The Legendary Divine Marks are just one half of the ritual."

Silence appeared in the room.

Draven’s smile disappeared.

"Explain."

Morgatha raised another hand.

The magical formation changed.

There appeared seven swords around the table. Each one of them was glowing with divine light—they were the weapons forged by the Gods themselves.

"The Divine Seal was created using the power of Gods."

She was looking at the five empty spaces in the formation.

"But the weapon that was used to strengthen the seal was created from the same source."

Azrael’s eyes narrowed.

"Divine Swords."

Morgatha nodded.

"Exactly."

The picture changed.

Ancient Divine Swords appeared one by one—Excalibur, Leviathan, Tempest, Aurelia, Eclipse, Gram, Genesis. Each one of them was shining with its own light, each one of them was a fragment of the bigger whole.

"Divine Swords energy is required to break the last layer of the seal."

Draven’s eyes widened.

"How much?"

Morgatha was looking at him.

"Enough."

Draven laughed. The laughter echoed in the chamber.

"Then we’ll just take one."

Azrael said quietly. His voice was cutting through the laughter like a knife.

"You can’t take it."

Everybody was looking at him.

Azrael continued.

"Those swords choose their masters."

Draven grinned.

"Then we kill them."

Azrael’s expression didn’t change.

"Even if you kill them, the sword may reject you."

Morgatha smiled.

"Which is why we don’t need to use them."

She was pointing at the magical formation.

"We just need their energy."

Lokiar finally spoke. His voice was echoing strangely around the chamber—it felt like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Interesting."

His silver mask was turning toward Morgatha.

"And where exactly are those Divine Swords?"

Morgatha’s eyes became darker.

"We already know."

She waved her hand.

The new magical picture appeared.

There was standing a silver-haired girl, surrounded by five Divine Swords. Her eyes were golden, her expression was calm, and her presence was glowing with power that filled the whole room.

Excalibur. Leviathan. Tempest. Eclipse. Gram.

The room became silent.

Even Noctis leaned forward a little.

Draven was looking at the picture.

"Five."

Morgatha nodded.

"Five Divine Swords."

Grom growled. His claws were scraping against the table.

"Jennie."

Lokiar tilted his head. His mask was gleaming in crimson light.

"The Markless Maiden."

Azrael was looking at the picture of Jennie. For several seconds, he was saying nothing. His eyes were tracing lines of her face, the way she was standing, the way she was holding herself.

Then his eyes narrowed.

"Leonis."

Draven was looking at him.

Azrael didn’t say anything for some time. He was looking at Jennie, his expression was unreadable.

Finally, he said something.

"We all know she would gather them."

Noctis’s crimson eyes were shifting toward him.

Azrael continued.

"She carries divine swords."

Faint smile appeared on Draven’s face.

"That means the old hero has returned."

Draven looked at them.

The room fell silent.

"I fought Leonis."

His tone was calm and measured.

"And that girl too. She is strong."

Draven laughed.

Morgatha was looking at the picture. Her eyes were tracing five Divine Swords, her expression was calculated.

"Five Divine Swords have gathered in one place for the first time in a thousand years."

Lokiar’s silver mask was turning toward her.

"And the sixth?"

Morgatha’s expression was changing.

"The Blade of Light."

Aurelia appeared in the magical picture. The golden sword was glowing with divine radiance.

Lilia was standing next to Jennie. The hair of the Queen glittered in the light, and her look was calm – the look of an emperor who knew what darkness is.

The reaction of the five Divine Swords was triggered by the arrival of Aurelia. They shone brightly, creating a ring of power around the two ladies.

Noctis kept silent.

But then...

Everything around him started trembling.

Under the Demon Citadel...

BOOM!

The five prisoners kneeled down. The chains that surrounded them began to tremble, and the magic bindings started to flicker.

Low voice was ringing throughout the whole fortress. It was almost inaudible – whisper that traveled along with the wind, breath of something primordial and evil.

But each Demon General heard this voice.

"...Leonis..."

Azrael’s look widened slightly. His hand moved instinctively towards the sword that was not there.

Draven smiled again, his smile becoming even wider.

Morgatha whispered something inaudible, her voice quivered with fear or anticipation – who knows?

"The seal is weakening."

Another tremor.

BOOM!

Finally, Noctis rose from the ground. The armor creaked and the darkness around him became more intense. Each Demon General became silent immediately, looking at their emperor.

His crimson eyes turned to look at the picture of Jennie. To look at Lilia. To look at the five Divine Swords.

His voice became colder. It sounded with the power of millennia, with the authority of a being who was waiting for the moment for thousands of years.

"Capture the remaining Legendary Divine Mark bearers."

Morgatha bowed.

"Yes."

"Bring them alive."

Lokiar nodded. The mask was glittering.

"Understood."

Noctis turned his look to Draven.

"And the Divine Swords."

Draven smiled. His eyes were burning with anticipation.

"Alive?"

Noctis looked at him for some time. Long silence reigned.

"No."

The hall became completely silent.

"Bring me their power."

Draven’s smile became even wider. It was the smile of a predator who got the permission to hunt.

"As you command."

Noctis turned his look to the magical picture one more time.

The girl was standing there. She was surrounded by the five Divine Swords. Silver hair of Jennie glittered in the light, and her golden eyes looked straight into his soul – as if she could feel his gaze through the magical link, as if she could see him looking at her.

A girl who had no idea that the whole continent already marked her as its main target.

A girl who carried the hopes of the world on her shoulders.

A girl who was going to become the center of the war that will shake the heavens.

Noctis said the last sentence. His voice was quiet, but the sentence sounded through the hall as a death sentence.

"Begin the hunt."