Nether Realm

In the underground meeting hall deep inside the Demon King’s Castle, creatures of different sizes and colors sat on the round table. The thick and long horns protruding from their head were a sight. Their appearance was shrouded in dark fogs, and their voices were whispers like ghosts in the graveyard.

“The King hadn’t come out of his room since then.”

“Is his injuries from the war still not healed?”

“Watch your mouth! He’s our King! The strongest being in these entire realms. Such puny wounds are nothing to him.”

“Then why isn’t our King shown himself? It’s been fifty years.”

Among the battling of opinions, a calm voice halted all the arguments.

“Patience, everyone, our King is just resting. When the war between realms is near, he will show himself before us. Without a doubt.”

. . .

. . .

Everyone was quiet for a moment before another added.

“That’s right. Our King doesn’t need to be here each day just to oversee the realm. He has us to take care of it.”

Another round of agreeing and opinions and someone changed the topic.

“Madox, have you found out what caused the disgusting humans, the mortal realm, to suddenly have strength and magic on par with us?”

Everyone’s ear perked, and their lips shut tight for an answer. This was the question that they––no that the entire realm wanted answers. Fifty years ago, what brought the war to a stop was not because someone won. The sudden emergence of humans with equal power to other realms brought the century wars to an end. They were forced to retreat by the human’s explosive power and magic.

Since then, Septverden was in a standstill. Constantly warry and gouging each other’s move for war might break out in a blink of an eye. But until that there were not sure of the current situation, no one wanted to act . . . not yet.

The silence was disrupted when Madox said, “Regretfully, we have not discovered something significant.”

“It’s been fifty years, and yet you still couldn’t give us a proper explanation. What have you been doing all these years? Torture souls in your lab?”

Angry voices rumbled on all sides while another tried to alleviate the situation.

Madox titled his head to one side and mocked, “If the six hell of purgatory could get their hands to those five humans, then maybe we aren’t in this predicament in the first place.”

“What did you say?”

“Are you implying that we are weak?”

Anger shot through the hazy darkness, and Madox only shrugged. “I’m only the head scientist. Capturing those five, who are the pinnacle of power in the mortal realm, isn’t my job.”

Bam!

A sound of a fist on the table echoed, followed by a snarl. “Do you think it is that easy?!”

Madox raised a brow. “If you think it’s hard, then at least bring me a descendant.”

. . .

. . .

The five mortals that led humanity to freedom. Those five heroes contend with each leader of each realm. Kidnaped just one of them? One of the heroes was almost equal to their King in power. It’s like asking to abduct their King in the darkness of night. Only a suicidal idiot would think of doing it.

“That’s near to impossible. Not considering that those four rarely go out from the protection of their kingdom, but their strength is the real deal.”

. . .

. . .

“But the same couldn’t be said about their descendant.”

“What do you think we are doing these past years? If taking one of theirs is that easy, we have done it years ago.”

Sighs and curses filled the room, thick and menacing.

A voice, so rasps, clawed everyone’s ears. “As of now, there are two choices laid before us. One, wait for those remaining four to breathe their last. One of them is already dead, and the others are old . . . It would only be a matter of time.”

The others nodded while some murmured to each other.

“And the other option . . . Ally with the other realms to discover the secret of the mortals.”

Bam!

“Preposterous!”

“Not happening!”

“Just thinking of those goody-goody angels, the elves’ dopy faces, and the sprites fluttering wings make me want to butcher every last one of them!”

“You must be joking, Lord Azzeroth. There is no way that we will ally ourselves with other races. Same as them. We’d rather murder each other than work together.”

Buzz

Buzz

Eventually, the monthly meeting of the elders in the Demon realm came to a closed in yet another unfruitful meeting.

Inside the inner chamber of the Demon King’s palace, Lord Nazzareth rested his old bones against a chair. He was the second hand and the most loyal demon of the demon King. Though he appeared to be a skinny old man with a long white beard and brows. He didn’t have any horns, and at first glance, he could pass as a mortal.

However, only a few elders knew how terrifying he was in his truest form. No one even gave a squeak of protest when Nazzareth handled the reins when the Demon King retired inside his room to recuperate.

It was rumored that both Azzeroth and Nazzareth were made from the Demon King’s flesh.

Nazareth rubbed his wrinkly eyes as he breathed for air before he stood and called, “You here?”

Not long, a blurry shadow appeared. A demon with a short and lean appearance. His skin was bluish-green, and he was dressed head to toe that only his dilated golden eyes peeked at his mask.

(Pic)

“You called, my lord?” the demon asked in a respectful tone as he went to one knee and bowed in greeting at the existence that he could only worship.

Nazzareth watched the demon with a conflicted gaze, but then he resolved himself and said. “Come with me.”

The room tilted, and they found themselves in a dimly lit staircase leading to an underground chamber.

Nazzareth stroke his beard, voice solemn. “The elders are restless by the day.”

“Patience isn’t our strong point, after all.”

Nazzareth huffed a dry laugh.

“I brought you here for two reasons,” said Nazzareth after a while. “One, because you are my trusted servant. You are made from my flesh and blood and brought to life by a piece of my soul. I know you won’t ever betray me.”

Betray his Lord? The demon almost prostrates at the thought. Whatever his Lord asked, he would do it without questions. Even his Lord ask him the piece of his soul back, he would gladly do it with a smile.

They stopped in front of a thick door, black and full of engraving of ancient spells.

“We don’t have much time.” Nazzareth placed his palm on the door, and hundreds of hundreds of pentagrams appeared. Like the gears of the clock, each pentagram done unlock, and the door opened with a rumbling sound.

What stumbled inside was a large hall filled with waters, and the only light was the sparkling particles floating in the water that emitted a faint glow.

“I alone know this place. Not even Azziroth know this area existed,” Nazzareth said and shot the man a look. “It’s our secret now.”

The demon's brows rose. He felt whatever that secret was –– it was not good. His eyes narrowed at the particles swirling around and around like they were startled at their sudden appearance. Upon closer inspection, these lights were imbued with hundreds of spells, and with these thousands of tiny particles floating in all directions, even the entire demons’ army would be wiped out in an instant.

Why is this place so tightly guarded?

Then his eyes rested at the piles of rocks floating at the center.

Nazzareth raised his hand, and with the sharpness of his nails, he cut his wrist. Drop after drop of blood tainted the darkest sea, and the light particles’ glow faded with the rumbling sounds.

RUMBLE!

RUMBLE!

The fading particles turned to fogs and formed branching pathways that led to the hazy unknown beyond –– another trick for those who attempted to invade the chamber. The demon thought. He bet that the only one who knew the right way was his Lord.

“Come,” Nazzareth said, and he flicked a glance at the murky waters on their sides. “Watch your step, and don’t fall into the water.”

“Is there something in the water?” the demon asked as he took his first step on the foggy pathway.

Nazareth pinched his beard. “Abyssal Waters.”

The demon's foot halted mid-way, and he retreated lightning fast. He looked at his Lord in disbelief before he shot a glance at the dangerous, very dangerous water.

Abyssal Water?!

It’s a water that was rare to non-existent in this world! If the water as much as grazed his limbs, he’d find his missing flesh in another dimension.

The demon shuddered, thinking what would happen if his entire body fell in that harmless water.

Abyssal water was rumored to be abundant in the realm of the all-knowing, an entity that even the Heaven and Demon Realm feared, the one and only Queen of all beasts.

How did the demon King stole such waters and in such amount that filled an entire chamber?

The demon's questions were left unanswered when his Lord called for him. He sprinted towards his Lord with steady and careful steps. He felt like nothing could compare to what he was feeling right now among the many battles and life and death situations he encountered.

Being careful on his steps, droplets of sweat soaked his mask as they traversed the maze-like path. Ending their destination were piles of dark rock glistened under the faint light.

Nazzareth went on his knees and placed his palms against the rocks, and another pentagram appeared. This one was enormous and encompassed the entire area with its silver lights. It took at least an hour to break its locks, and Nazzareth was almost out of mana by that time.

Just what kind of thing was hidden inside the rocks that his Lord, the greatest demon second only to their King, was almost out of mana to unlock? The demon thought. Before he could open his mouth to ask, the stone broke in half and revealed its secrets.

The pressure was enormous enough to shudder their bones. The demon's gasp was stuck in his throat as he went on his knees, trembling in fear.

The Demon King!

In all fours and with shaking limbs, he went closer. “W-what . . . I-is the Demon King . . . dead?”

The Demon King’s eyes were shut. Pale purple skin behind a dark vest and cloak. His horns were hidden except the one from his forehead that was broken in half. It looked like he was sleeping, but his aura still engulfed them whole.

Nazzareth sighed. “The King is not dead . . . He is . . . sleeping.”

“When will he wake up?”

Nazzareth shook his head. “I don’t know . . . I have tried countless measures to wake him up, yet none succeed. I’m afraid . . . even I don’t know when he will wake up . . . or . . . If he ever will. The war fifty years ago had almost drained him of his mana that even until now, he is sleeping.”

“. . .”

“. . .”

Nazzareth took in a breath. “The second reason why I brought you here is that . . .” Nazareth looked at the demon with a serious face and said, “I have a task for you which could very well determine the fate of the whole Nether Realm.”

The demon's back straightened, and Nazzareth opened his mouth. What he relayed was deaf in ears and only appeared in the demon's consciousness.

Saying that his task might affect the entire Nether Realm wasn’t farfetched as the demons' strength, their pillar of support, their most powerful existence, was now reduced to this state.

If words got out . . . the demon shuddered, not daring to further his thoughts.

This mission, no matter what . . .

He could not fail.