An Evil Justice

Chapter 7 – Battle of Sins (pt. 2)

A/N – Thanks for vladimir935’s and LullMaister’s input last chapter

(And Balbonses crap ton of ‘Thanks for chapter’ comments .-. )

Mature Warning- Extreme violence

--* Soul Citadel, Underworld *--

The air grew intense with heat and bloodlust.

Legions of soldiers easily occupied half of the empty courtyard as they charged toward the lone Grim Reaper. It was an amazing sight watching the hundreds of soldiers march with their swords raised toward the crimson sky. Pity could be seen in the eyes of the now distant Emissaries as they watched in the sidelines, unwilling to join the fray.

They knew the amount of power each warrior possessed and had grown quite afraid of it after their own duels with Michael. Now it was the dawn of another one-sided massacre between a lone superpower versus an army of trained killing machines. While Emissaries of Wrath may possess incredible fighting power compared to the other Sins, the army was simply too overbearing.

The ground shook with every unified step the glowing soldiers took. Blazing air whipped across the large courtyard, like a sea of flames emanating from their armor, yet none of the soldiers seemed to feel the heat.

On the other side of the battlefield, Grim stood silently, his body wrapped in darkness. The shadows around his arms had long since disappeared, revealing two wicked daggers. Both of them resembled grayish twin fangs split down the center. They seemed to be capable of cutting and stabbing through any material.

Though they were identical in appearance, one of the daggers shined greatly with a rampaging crimson aura. The other dagger was a haunting black aura dancing upon the blade’s body.

As small as they were, only extending about a forearm’s length, the daggers still seemed inconceivably dangerous. And in the hands of Grim, they truly fit the role of tools of Death, yet many would question their viability when facing an army of hundreds.

Time passed as Grim’s cloaked body stood still, patiently awaiting the arrival of the army. The light had thrown him hundreds of meters away from Michael though it did not damage him in the least. Wounds on his body still pestered his condition, however. The battle with Satan had incurred horrendous trauma upon his body.

Before he had time to curse the large demon, Grim’s eyes sharpened. In front of him, three blazing soldiers swung their swords rapidly towards his body. The Reaper’s body quickly leaned toward the right, dodging an overhead swing. Using one of his daggers, he parried another sword to the side and quickly dashed forward into one of the knights. With a quick strike to its barely protected neck, the dark dagger stabbed into the soldier’s throat, showering Grim with golden liquid.

With a loud hiss, the liquid melted off Grim’s exposed flesh.

Though it took a while to describe, the whole even occurred within the span of a few seconds. With faster reflexes and reaction speed, Grim’s original agile fighting style grew more powerful and elegant. All that elegance completely disappeared as he backed off however, as his dark skin burnt painfully.

“Emissary of Wrath! How do you like my vassals?” he laughed haughtily as if the battle did not involve him, “With every kill, the more you’ll expose yourself to their burning blood”.

His words rang true, as the now dead soldier collapsed into the ground, a puddle of golden growing beneath his corpse. The smell of burning and loud hissing filled the air as it did so as if it was melting the stone floor.

The Reaper’s face scrounged up in pain. Feeling your skin and flesh cook was not pleasant, however, the torture only fueled his will to overcome this seemingly impossible to win situation.

Ignoring the risks, Grim charged into a group of golden armored soldiers and began his hunt anew. His brain was fully occupied by amazing concentration as his eyes analyzed the paths of each sword swing, his footing, the path to dodge, where to stab; all of these factors ran through his head.

‘To the right…’ a dagger rose like lightning and deflected a swing.

‘Forward,’ like a shadow, Grim appeared in front of a soldier and cut into the neck.

‘Like rain…’ each drop of blood was met and blocked by the red dagger.

‘Three behind,’ pivoting on his right foot, Grim spun around and charged into three golden soldiers, completely avoiding the swords crashing towards his previous location.

‘Death!’ three corpses fell to the floor as the Reaper disappeared into another crowd.

With every step, Grim’s body flashed, leaving a trail of golden corpses. His body was wrapped in golden flames, battling the dark cloak surrounding Grim. It was an astounding spectacle, watching a single man destroy hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers like a machine. The Emissaries watching were truly dumbfounded, yet they knew the Reaper did not have the capacity to achieve victory.

The smell of burnt flesh and blood followed Grim as he sustained continuous damage. With every soldier he kills, a sword would slice into his flesh. With every step he takes, a drop of blood would burn his body. It was only time that the pain and fatigue would collapse his will.

Only time…

…

“The new Emissary is holding up quite well,” Lucifer smiled slightly, his blue eyes carefully analyzing the battlefield below him. Around him were six other men who similarly watched the battle with keen interest. Though they were planning on stopping the battle, as they had in the past, their curiosity overcame their sense of caution.

It was simply too astounding to see an Emissary of Wrath battle and Grim did not disappoint their expectations. In fact, his ability completely astounded them! Their minds reeled as they watched the Reaper forge a path of corpses. The smell of blood and burning completely engulfed their bodies, even high into the air.

In short, they boiled with excitement.

“Hehe, that brat has some skill!” Satan guffawed. He knew in his heart that the soul he had chosen possessed such great talent. The souls Grim had killed only bolstered this talent in killing, and now that he had assimilated with the Sin of Wrath, he became a seed of greatness. And it was a seed that must be grown with great nurturing.

“Let’s hope you don’t ruin that innate talent,” a richly man mocked, his jewels glinted with red light, reflecting the crimson fog surrounding them. Unlike most of the other Princes who stayed up in the air with their large wings, he stood on a piece of stone that floated in the middle of space.

“Gah, shut up Mammon, your disciple is a foolish man whose stupid kindness knows no bounds,” Satan retorted, as if he was greatly offended, “you truly failed in creating a true Demon!”

Sparks began to fly between the two of them as they glared at each other.

To the side, a unique individual sighed tiredly. His whole body was covered in tentacles while spines of teeth ran down each of them. Though he looked quite soft and squishy, the tentacles constantly moved around, as if threatening to grab onto anything that dares come close enough.

“Idiots… they’re both idiots,” he sighed once again as if he was tired of the whole farce.

…

Grim watched the golden sword approach him. It was intricate, like the craft of a master smith. The subtle lines of fire running down through it and the divine aura the blade emanated truly captured his wonder. Its hilt was a vivid red, like fine silk caressing the wielder’s hand. An opal gem was imbedded into the butt of the hilt, glowing brightly like a miniature sun.

Needless to say, it didn’t matter.

“Gaaaahh-----!” Grim roared in anguish as the blade dug deep into his left shoulder, tearing the black cloak apart and slicing through his skin and bones. Black blood splattered all over the floor as Grim’s body knelt in exhaustion and pain.

Several soldiers surrounded him, their golden swords threatening to stab into his body. Yet, even in such a dire situation, the bloodlust that filled Grim’s red eyes never disappeared. There was an unyielding spirit inside of him. He cannot lose. Not again.

Even so, his body could no longer move. Hundreds of cuts marred his chiseled body, leaking precious blood. Panting from exhaustion, the Grim Reaper fell as darkness captured his consciousness. His previously dark skin retreated into his scars, revealing deathly pale flesh. The cloak began to wither and turn to ash and his midnight hair became white as snow.

Before he could collapse to the ground however, an arm grabbed his body and supported him. Michael’s clothes were dyed black as he carried the now unconscious Emissary to the others, a faint smile on his face.

“Good job, Emissary of Wrath,” he whispered.

Around him, the golden soldiers saluted as their bodies cracked and turned into golden fragments as they disappeared into thin air.

The battlefield was quite somber, deathly silence filled the air, which smelled of blood and burning. The ground was littered with cracks and melted stone, yet none of the corpses were present. In the air, seven figures slowly descended, their mouths twisted into wide smiles. They proud, excited even.

Watching a single man almost decimate an army of hundreds electrified them! It was truly an amazing spectacle. Of course, Grim did not achieve victory, but his skills greatly impressed the audience.

“Eve, we’ll leave the Emissary of Wrath under your care,” Lucifer ordered as he landed on the ground.

The raven-like woman nodded as she took the unconscious body from Michael, “You really didn’t hold back”.

Michael laughed, “You think I had a choice?” his eyes stared at the pale man, “If I was careless, I think my head would have fallen off”.

The other Emissaries were quite shocked. They were forced to battle with the Emissary of Pride in the past to test their skills as well. It was traumatizing for them facing even a hundred soldiers, much less an army of almost a thousand. The Grim Reaper’s skill truly surpassed theirs. Maybe it was innate talent, or perhaps the Sins just agreed with the Emissary’s body.

“In any case, what I worry about isn’t his combat prowess, but his morals…” a deep voice interrupted their shock. Satan’s inherent power pressured the Emissaries to the brink of fear, yet they held on to their bearing.

“Indeed, you mentioned that the Emissary of Wrath has had a terrible past life?” Lucifer asked, whetting the curiosity of the other Emissaries.

“Just don’t tell Grim that I told you guys, he’s a stubborn person,” Satan warned, his piercing crimson eyes threatened the surrounding Princes and Emissaries.

“So, what’s his story?”

A/N I just want to credit “Scream Hard as You Can” by Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas for this chapter lol