An army marched.

Men and women of different races. Elves, Humans, Diavol, and Dwarves. With their siege equipment and Dwarven machines made for war. The messengers of Gods acted as their leaders, directing them forward to vanquish unspeakable evil. It was without a doubt a noble and righteous cause that could inspire men who had given up all hope. A single enemy, or rather an entire entity, that was pure evil. The Dark Elves showed their true color by worshipping Ira, that was what most people thought.

Though, if there was to be one group of naysayers it would be the Parvian Houses who weren’t attacked at all. They were the most reluctant to war as they had no personal stake in it. Still, it wouldn’t do to sit idle in front of the Angels so they took up arms.

And so they marched on, toward Ira and toward his people. An army made up of millions who stood together. For every ten thousand or so there was an Angel closeby. The stronger the group the higher ranked the Angel but the strongest Angels guarded a stone sphere that trailed far behind the army ominously.

…

Ira sat in a dimly lit room with his son, Valeryn, next to him. A pile of broken swords lay on a table in front of them. Rusted, shattered, dull, and cracked swords that could no longer be used.

“If we use all of these pieces what do you think will come out?” Ira asked through a soft smile.

“Something new, Father?” Valeryn guessed. Two curtains of neatly parted black hair fell near his curious eyes.

It was a trait that each of Ira’s children had in common. A sense of curiosity that couldn’t quite be measured. Of course, that curiosity pointed toward different interest for each of them. Valeryn, for example, wanted to grow his abilities with a sword. The Paradox Blade didn’t do anything to help him advance since it was powerful enough on its own.

“Maybe it will, Ryn. Or maybe nothing will come from it.” Ira rubbed his chin without knowing the answer himself.

Valeryn nodded and reached for the discarded swords. As his fingers touched the steel and iron, he could feel the aged history in the weapons. From the time they were used to before that when they were nothing more than lumps of ore buried within the ground. Traces of impurity buried deep within the blades spoke of their violent birth.

And Valeryn accepted all of it, the blades seemed to melt into his palms. He erased the history of each weapon and created something new. The first sword to form was a rapier with a rusted hilt and a shimmering blade with faint scars along it. Other than its strange appearance, there was nothing remarkable about the weapon. It’s what Valeryn wanted, it was something that would help him grow.

“It’s a start.” Ira watched the Rapier emerge from Valeryn’s palms.

“I like it,” Valeryn said. Though truthfully, Valeryn was thinking of his next weapon. He felt that if he collected more swords, his own abilities would become clearer. He put those thoughts away and fastened the Rapier with the rusty hilt to his side.

“Are you going to give it a name?” Ira wanted to know.

“Hmm…” Valeryn’s small brows wrinkled in thought.

“Not yet, Father. It isn’t ready for a name yet.” Valeryn spoke with certainty. There was a need to actually use it before it received a name.

“I see.” The brightness of Ira’s yellow-eyes seemed to understand Valeryn’s meaning.

In short, Valeryn wanted to fight with his weapon and kill someone with it. It was the instinctive reaction planted within his bloodline.

…

A day passed.

Since Ira’s kidnapping of Juliana, a group Lycanthropes were sent to scout outside the borders of the barren land which held the Underground City. As another day passed without a report, it meant that the army hadn’t arrived yet which wasn’t surprising as everyone had expectations of the army taking a week or two to arrive.

One would think Ira could take it easy but there was preparation to be done. Daily drills, marches, and the establishment of forward camps. Multiple defensive lines were being created in order to halt the army which would inevitably arrive.

At the moment, Ira wasn’t with his children as much as he would’ve like to have been. Instead, something else took his priority.

He developed a sort of fascination with Divine Power in a way and all of Gavreel’s abilities as an Angel. But what Ira sought the most was the origin of the Gavreel’s abilities. Some Gods could create Angels and some Angels were naturally born from the Divine Force, though the latter was much rarer. If Ira could create his own Angels then they would serve as another layer of protection for his children.

So, Ira found his first willing test subject, Zella. Since Gerald planned on returning to his wife’s side at some point, Ira chose not to make too many irreversible changes to him. Zella was different in that regard, she had a sort of resignation that formed in her. She didn’t think her condition would get better with time and she had nothing to look forward to for comfort like Gerald. The feelings she had for Lance would never surface as, if she did confess to him, he’d accept her out of obligation not out of love. He’d most likely feel guilty and pity toward her and force himself to love her. In her opinion, that was much worse than being alone. Her friends, though she loved them with all her heart, they couldn’t build their lives around her. It was preferable to leave her companions behind before it was too late. She decided to do it before they looked at her as a burden, comforting her outwardly but resenting her and all her troubles inwardly.

Zella couldn’t be sure if those things would come to pass but there was a strong chance it would. So at the moment, she’d accepted her fate and left everything to Ira. That was the reason she was currently lying unconscious on a cold metal table. Ira wasn’t aware of Zella’s mental turmoil and even if he was he couldn’t do much to help her.

“What are these exactly?” A withered middle-aged man asked as he examined a box of black crystal eyes.

“Well, I’m not sure but…you’ll be giving them to her. The Lares were able to use their crystal eyes to predict the future so maybe it’ll work like that. We have Juliana locked up so the Angels probably can’t predict too many things without her. If these eyes work the way as intended then Zella here will be seeing the future for us.”

“Ah, wonderful.” Charles’ complexion lit up with the energy of a younger man. “But I must inquire about that Juliana Fairfax. If these crystal eyes were to be implanted into her what effect would it have since she already has a divine gift.”

Ira looked surprised at the question Charles brought up and nodded his head, signifying his approval.

“After you give them to Zella, you can test them on Juliana.” Since Ira had more than a dozen of the corrupted crystal eyes, he wouldn’t be stingy while letting Charles research.

“Thank you, Ira,” Charles spoke politely but he had already moved toward his tools.

Ira left without saying much else and headed toward the War Room. There were many things to take care of and he found himself more and more distracted, he could only find solace in the fact that it would be over soon. As soon as Ira entered the room, he found himself in the middle of a tense atmosphere.

“Keeper, I was just about to send someone to find you.” Sylun and the others greeted him.

“What for?” Ira inquired.

Saren, Eloise, Jydar, Gareth, Samantha, and just about everyone else who Sylun consulted with looked distraught.

“What’s going on?” Ira wanted to know.

The visible trembling, the heartbeats that rose higher and higher, the eyes that usually showed reverence instead showed hesitation. Nothing in the room escaped Ira’s senses.

“Our enemies are on the move, faster than we expected and closer than we thought possible in this amount of time.” Sylun’s fingers curled, forming fists. “We’ve only just finished the defensive line near the northeastern border where they’re approaching. Our other fortifications need more time until they’re completed.”

“It’s only been what? Two days?” Ira ran his hands through his black hair in a relaxed manner. “They’re faster than I thought they’d be, that's for sure.”

“What are we to do, Keeper?” Sylun asked. She could remain calm but the loss of crucial time hammered at her nerves.

“First, send someone to get Avery.”

As Ira finished speaking, an attendant immediately bowed and left the room.

A few minutes passed and Avery arrived wearing her plain grey robes as always. She was met with polite greetings before she took her place next to Ira.

“I’ve been informed of the situation.” Avery’s eyes narrowed to reflect her concentration. “If my mother and grandmother had returned then we’d be afforded more maneuverability but since that isn’t the case…”

Avery didn’t need to finish for others to see the picture she was painting. A large number of troops would need to be sacrificed in order to buy time to create other avenues of defense. The end goal was for the enemy to be drawn in and taken care of all at once. Sure, Ira could kill thousands of enemies but the stone sphere would always threaten his capture. In Avery’s mind, Ira’s presence needed to have a supportive role on the battlefield rather than rushing in. There was also the fact that there were thousands of Angels and only one of Ira. He couldn’t be everywhere at once and the Angels wouldn’t be so kind as to ignore the weaker soldiers of the Dark Elf Empire.

“Give up the first defensive line,” Avery said starkly.

“Keepress?” Sylun spoke as if she couldn’t understand.

“We’ll let them have the first and the second. Instead of fighting them in a needless battle, we’ll take that time to finish the other fortifications.”

Ira formed a thought as Avery proposed her strategy. It was one that the latter wouldn’t want to hear but it was a thought nonetheless.

“Did the Lycanthrope who returned see a stone sphere floating in the sky?” Ira asked.

Avery sent a questioning glance his way but he ignored it.

“...I don’t believe so, Keeper.” Sylun answered, just as curious as Avery.

“Then I’ll go,” Ira responded.

“Ira–” Avery started but he stopped her with a motion of his hand and a crafty smile.

“When the advance party inspects the structures near the border they’ll be wary but they’ll also be tired, mentally if not physically. Once no one finds any traps or signs of enemy soldiers they will be able to rest, right?” Ira’s words seemed reasonable so everyone, including Avery, continued to listen. “When that happens I don’t need to do much. Just one attack and it’ll slow them down a little during the rest of the march.”

Avery remained silent as she couldn’t find any faults with his plans other than the appearance of the Tartarus but since it wasn’t spotted it meant it wasn’t near. There was always the possibility of it being hidden from sight but that was a small chance.

Sylun took Avery’s silence as approval to speak. “Is there anything we can do to prepare, Keeper?”

“Yeah.” Ira smiled. “I have a few ideas.”

…

The next day came even quicker than the one before it.

Arriving at the borders of the lands of the Dark Elves, the advanced party of around ten-thousand came upon a large structure with a moat. Scouts were sent to inspect it and they returned empty-handed. There was no one sign of an enemy presence so everyone was ordered to advanced cautiously. A twenty-foot wooden fence surrounded the fort and provided it a bit more defense. Though that all seemed laughable when thinking about the sheer size of the enemy force.

“It’s empty,” A man called out from atop the fence. “It almost looks like they fled as soon as those Lycanthropes found us.” He laughed while remembering the short battle.

“We’ll camp here!” The order was shouted. “Send word to the other divisions of our findings. If nothing happens to us we can store supplies here as the rest of us advance.”

The huge structure made of stone and wood had every inch inspected and nothing came up. There was even food and wine left about as well as large stores of water. No one would be so stupid as to eat food left by an enemy so they tested it for poison and found that it was perfectly edible. That actually drew more suspicion than it would’ve if they found poison so they sent scouts to inspect all areas a few miles away from them. The slightest trace of enemy activity couldn’t be found.

The fact that Ira could manipulate space and theoretically bring a small force to attack didn’t leave anyone’s mind but it would be a needless slaughter as Ira couldn't send more than a few hundred at a time and the smallest force under the Angels was a few thousand strong.

So, seeing no reason not to, everyone took a rest. Patrols were set and steps were taken to ensure that a surprise attack couldn’t do much damage.

As soon as the command tent was pitched, other soldiers began doing the same. Small fires were set and meals were cooked under the setting sun. A few groups even began to indulge in the wine that was left but they made sure to show discretion.

Under the reddish-orange haze of a fleeting sun, a warm environment sprung up to counter the cold air of the barren plains. As it became darker, it became harder to distinguish the appearance of others unless they carried a source of light in hand.

A small group of soldiers sat in front of a small bonfire having a conversation.

“Have any of you ever killed someone?” A human man asked.

“I have.” A male elf leaned close to the fire to show his appearance. Shadows had a way of obscuring appearances and with a bonfire between each individual, it made it harder to see each other. If one wanted their race to be known they’d have to lean close to allow the flames to highlight them.

“Same here,” A male Diavol answered.

“You wouldn’t find many people saying they haven’t spilled blood around here even if it isn’t the truth,” A Dwarven man chuckled as he stretched his hands toward the fire.

“So you’ve killed people before?” The young man who posed the question inquired.

“No, not directly, but I’ve done away with quite the number of robbers and bandits from behind wagon-pulled ballistae.” The Dwarf replied. “What about you, lad? You seem quite young.”

“I-I’ve never killed before.”

“I thought as much.” The Dwarf nodded in understanding. “You’d do well to remember that when it comes down to it, it’s either your life or someone else’s. Everything else isn’t important.”

“Well said.” A voice seemingly agreed but it also seemed to hold a slight disdain. The owner of the voice had his face hidden by the darkness. He crossed his arms but didn’t move forward as if he didn’t want to show his origins.

“I take it that you have your own advice to give the boy?” The Dwarf inquired with a scoff.

“Maybe.”

“Then pray, let us all hear it.” The Dwarf swung his arms out in a grand gesture.

The man uncrossed his arms and moved forward ever so slightly, not enough to show his face, but enough to show he was interested.

“Killing is easy...I’ve killed enough people to know that. Some of them begged for mercy, some were unarmed, and some had surrendered but once I decided I wanted to kill them. And you want to know why?” The man snapped his finger loudly, causing the listeners to become even more attentive. “It’s necessary to kill as it was driven into your body from the moment you first drew breath. It may be hidden, sure, but the fact remains that it's there. People kill to eat, people kill to protect themselves and the ones they love, people kill to maintain law, and most commonly, people kill if they want something. Death is just as, if not more, important than life. At least I’d like to think it is.”

“Sounds like you’ve really convinced yourself of that.” The Dwarf raised his flask and wet his lips with the contents inside.

“Humans and their obsession with death.” The Elf rolled his eyes.

No one seemed to take in what the man said but he didn’t mind at all.

“Who said I’m human?” The man asked as he inched closer to the fire.

“Diavol?” The only other Diavol asked.

“No.” The man answered.

“Elf?”

“No.”

“Well, you sure aren’t a fucking dwarf so that limits your options to something from the Dark Elf Empire or an Angel.” The Dwarf laughed and so did the others but the man didn't join in.

He finally leaned forward, letting the dim flames expose his appearance. A bright smile decorated his face while flames danced in his murderous yellow eyes. His black hair swayed with the silent breeze at that followed his reveal.

"Well, I'm certainly no Angel," Ira said with a low chuckle.

A chill crawled through the skin of those who laid eyes on him as there was only one person who fit his description.

They wanted to shout or scream and rise to their feet but they couldn't move. They couldn’t even speak as something held them firmly in place but it did nothing to remove the terror from their faces.

“How did you say it again, Dwarf?” Ira asked. “It’s either them or you, right? So please tell me what should I do when a big scary army comes to kill me?”

The Dwarf quivered in place but couldn’t resist the force pressing down on him.

“You don’t have to answer. The look on your face, the look on all of your faces, it tells me all I need to know.” Ira sighed before hopping to his feet and stretching.

“Well, you'll be the first to go.” As Ira finished speaking, the small group burst into fleshy parts and scattered into the darkness causing an audible disruption. The only one who was left alive was the young man who first posed the question related to killing.

“I’ll let you live this time, yeah? Maybe you’ll be able to kill after you see what I do tonight.” Ira patted the young man on the shoulder and started to walk away.

“Hey! Who the fuck threw raw meat?!” Someone shouted he inspected the bloody chunk in front of him and saw an eyeball. “Wait–”

Ira gripped his neck and snapped it before tossing him away. Meanwhile, the commotion he caused already began to spread and the guards patrolling the area with torches were drawn toward the area to investigate.

“It’s an attack! Enemy attack!” The atmosphere changed and mages used illumination spells to cover the area.

It was hard not to see Ira as he stood in plain sight with an imposing air about him. The soldiers moved forward with their weapons in hand, some thought they would be the first to kill him but they were wrong.

Ira parted his lips and released a powerful storm from his mouth. A terrible wind ripped away tents and sent hundreds of men flying away, whether they were prepared or not. He leaped away and targeted those who weren’t uprooted from the ground. Their fates were not much better. Black claws ripped into their bodies and removed all signs of life from their bodies before they could scream.

Ira continued moving without a specific target as he was in an enemy camp. The command tent which, of course, housed the Commander was blown away with his first attack so the troops could only move without clear instruction. Mages fired spells at their own allies in the confusion while others outright fled. Nothing stopped Ira from doing what he set out to do.

As he plunged his hands through the chest of an Elf, he suddenly stopped his assault. He dropped the fresh corpse at his feet and spoke aloud.

“This should be enough.”

Although he could kill more, Ira felt no need to. If they continued to march for the Underground City after his attack then they would die at some point, especially if they ran across him.

And just like that, Ira vanished into the night leaving a panicked group which now numbered less than ten-thousand behind. It would take more time for them to realize that Ira had ceased his attack and left.