[Melas] Chapter 93 : Estia - Demon (Patreon)

The cloaked figure walked through the silent gilded halls of the large mansion. Paintings, portraits, and marble statues decorated the walls lining either side of her. She glanced up at one of the portraits— two luminescent yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. Before her hung an expansive canvas: it was a map of the world.

On the left side of the map was the continent of Soli, to the right was Vitae, and in between was Drake Island. Soli was, by far, the largest continent of all. The Holy Xan Empire was said to have conquered the entire land mass, but the cloaked figure couldn’t help but laugh at that thought. Conquer it? she thought, looking down at what lay below at the South Pole.

Hell.

One thing that the Holy Xan Empire never wanted you to know was that Hell was a part of Soli; it was the bottom half of the continent that could only be entered through crossing the Gates of Hell— a dangerous mountain range that was so small and narrow one wouldn’t think it was even a mountain range. It was a thin piece of land connecting Hell and Soli, so the Church convinced the rest of the world that they weren’t connected. That it was the work of the Demon Lord— that his magic conjured up earth, creating that dangerous terrain.

The cloaked figure shook her head. Ridiculous. Perhaps if the Demon Lord had been that powerful, he never would have fallen to that vile Xander.

She traced a hand through the map, her finger finding its way to Vitae. She stopped at the country she was in. The Puer Kingdom. And she saw the level of detail it had on it. The cloaked figure smiled and ripped that piece of the map out.

Even though it had just been a tiny part of the map, it was large enough to wrap around her body. She rolled it up and tossed it into the bag on her back. The map disappeared, almost as if it had been thrown into the void.

The cloaked figure ignored the mess she left behind— the tattered map fell off the wall, collapsing over a sculpture and covering it. Was this inconspicuous? No. Was she trying to be inconspicuous? No.

The cloak over her head was not to hide her identity; it didn’t matter if people found out who she was. She had it on for a different reason.

Her lips curled up as she pushed open a wooden double door at the end of the hallway. Light engulfed, revealing a large open room with a long dining table in the middle. There sat a dozen figures— all dressed in golden and purple garments laced with luxurious white cotton.

“Greetings, gentlemen.”

The cloaked figure spread her arms out as an angry man stood up.

“You!” he bellowed, pointing a finger out. “Who let you into my manor?”

“I let myself in,” she said simply, crossing her arms.

“The audacity…” His brows furrowed and he slammed his fists down onto the table. His guests winced, and the children paired with each of them all sunk back into their chairs. “Guards, kill her!”

The cloaked figure narrowed her eyes as the armed men surrounding the table drew their weapons. But she ignored them. Instead she focused on the little figures at the table— at the way they were dressed.

“I only came here to kill one of you. But it seems I have a lot more scum to exterminate, don’t I?”

She shook her head, walking forward as the first of the guards reached her. One swung a large polearm at her— its enchanted axehead glowing as it came down.

The cloaked figure pointed, and the man flipped in the air. He crashed into the ceiling, his own weapon lodged through his chest. Then he dropped back to the ground, unmoving.

The other guards hesitated, staring at their dead friend. But the cloaked simply raised her hand and gestured for them to come.

“What are you waiting for? Your master ordered you to kill me, didn’t he? Come, dogs. Try and get your prey.”

“Kill her!”

The man shouted louder, his face contorting in anger. The other guards rushed forward— none of them taking out any guns or rifles; this was the extent of their mana tech. Swords, shields, platemail— all enchanted. But nothing special.

The cloaked figure twirled past a swinging longsword and ducked under the thrusting spearhead. She spun around and all the guards around her recoiled an invisible force sending them back.

“What in Hell is going on?” a disbelieving voice said. There were more shouts as suddenly, somehow more fell dead from some unseen attack.

The assailant was swinging her arms— she was striking at the oncoming guards. But they shouldn’t have been falling. They shouldn’t be dying. Each of them should be able to kill a Chimera— alone!

Some of her attacks didn’t even connect. Yet a man’s head went spinning back. What is going on? the face of the man standing at the table seemed to scream.

The cloaked figure reveled in this. She knew she could have killed all the guards with ease, yet she took her time methodically taking them down one by one. The reason for her actions was simple; it was the same reason she wore the cloak. The same reason she waited to reveal her face to her enemies.

Intimidation.

She slowly walked past the corpses strewn about all around her. The people gathered at the table were pale faced now— none of them daring to say a thing against her. Even the man who had once been standing— so full of anger— was whimpering in fear. He may have even wet his pants. She smirked.

Then she threw her hood back. And they gasped. Their eyes widened, and some dropped down to their knees and began to pray. It was not just the symbols covering her body that struck fear into their hearts— it was not the spell circles that sat on the palm of her hands. No— more than that, she was...

A Demon.

Dark gray skinned. A single long, curved horn protruding right above her forehead. Gleaming yellow eyes, and pitch black sclera.

That was what the Humans saw. The terror in their eyes fueled her. One of them whispered, crying.

“Demon… the horrors from Hell!”

“I am not a Demon,” she said simply, raising a finger. “I am Estia.”

And a volley of black bolts struck down the Humans. They died, screaming, begging for mercy. Even when none of them showed a shred of decency all their lives.

Estia smiled as she watched them fall.

Estia did not stick around for a moment, even after killing all the aristocrats and rich merchants in the room. She did not try to reassure the children, or find them a place to live. No— there was no future for them in the Puer Kingdom. Perhaps her show force would inspire some of them to create their own future, but she highly doubted it.

Plus, no matter what she said, they would have been afraid of her. They would have scorned her for what she was, ignoring the fact that she just killed their abusers and rapists. It was not her first time doing this, after all. She knew how it went.

Maybe if she were a Human— or a Saintess… no. There was no point thinking about it anymore. She would just return back to the Infernalis. Her job was done and her target was killed.

So she left the mansion, rising up and above the sky. No wings sprouted from behind her back, yet her feet touched the air as she soared through the darkling heavens. Estia felt the wind blowing against her face, a smile plastered on her cheeks.

She couldn’t wait to go back. The Great Desert of Vitae was a few hundred miles away, at the eastern border of Puer, so it would take at least a week to get there on foot. But with her Flight? It would take her two days at most. One if she neglected sleep.

And she did neglect sleep. She was excited to return. Oh how she longed to have gone back and not walk amongst the Humans— the vile monsters responsible for the eradication of her race.

You see, Demons were ‘extinct’. They had been plentiful once; thousands of years ago, before the first Holy War had even erupted. Then through time and through the attrition of war, they were slowly wiped off the face of the world.

No true Demons remained— none but one. And Estia was not one of them. She wasn’t a true Demon. No, her single horn and her gray skin was proof of that. She was only Half Demon.

Her mother had been a Demon, and her father had been Human. Such a relationship— how scandalous! What heresy! And yet, that had been the case.

If she had been a full Demon, she would have two horns. Long horns that would strike fear into the hearts of anyone who saw her. And obsidian black skin that would send Humans, Elves, and Dwarves running.

Of course, most who saw her wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her and a true Demon, as evinced from earlier. And it was not like there were any other Demons around, so she might as well just call herself a Demon.

Estia smiled to herself, just remembering how the noble Humans called her one. “At least their lives are good for something,” she muttered to herself as the sun rose over the horizon.

She continued flying through the air, breaking through the white clouds of day until it turned to night again. Then as the moon firmly placed itself high in the sky, she arrived.

The Infernalis.

It was the headquarters of the Dark Crusaders. The elusive location where the terrorists would hide. And it was literally elusive.

The Infernalis was not located in a single place— it was evermoving. It was never static. Even the members that walked through its halls were never the same. And that was because—

They simply moved.

They didn’t need a castle to stay in. They didn’t need a fortress to hole up in. They didn’t need to move in the shadows. Because they could create the shadows. They could create the fortress. They could create the castle.

After all, they had magic.

Estia saw the Great Desert up ahead, the brown sand mass stretching beyond the horizon. And right where the desert started was a large orange plateau. She landed there, right where an oddly shaped pillar of stone rose up.

The stone pillar was not made of magic— it was a naturally formed structure. It was a coincidence this was where she landed, actually. She just needed magic to figure out where to go. And where her magic told her to go was down.

The earth opened up underneath her, and she fell down into the darkness. Then the ground closed above as her descent slowed. Runes at the bottom of the pit pulled her down gently until her feet lightly tapped solid ground.

A man stood before her, arms behind him in parade rest as he smiled. “I sensed you were coming,” he said.

“Kores!” she exclaimed, running up to her mentor. The other Demon hugged her as she threw her arms around him.

“I assume your mission went well?”

“Very well,” she said as they let go of their embrace.

She stared up and down, taking in the sight of another Demon. Half Demon, a voice in her head mentally corrected her. He had similar dark gray skin as her— and a single horn too. However, instead of jutting out in a curve above his forehead, his one was straight and out of the side.

“How have things been going here in the Infernalis?”

“The usual. Arguments. Discussions. Planning. And never getting anything done.”

She laughed as she followed him down the tunnel. Balls of light floated right below the ceiling, evenly distanced and illuminating the hallway for the two as they walked through the Infernalis.

“Anything that I don’t already know?” she asked as they passed by one of the many rooms lining the sides of the corridor. Most of them had been storage rooms, meeting rooms, and other such resources needed to keep the organization running.

However, a few of them were dorms— sleeping areas for their members. She paused as she caught sight of a group of Goblins she didn’t recognize. “Who are they? New Acolytes?”

“Yes. Newly ordained Disciples.”

Estia eyed a scowling Goblin sitting by himself in the corner of the room and shrugged. “They don’t look too impressive to me.”

“They’re not supposed to be,” Kores said, glancing back at her. “They’re new. None of them have had a chance to prove themselves yet.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “When I joined the Dark Crusaders, Dark Acolytes were vetted harshly. Only the best could become one. Whatever happened to that?”

“We grew bigger, Estia. Things change. We have the chance to actually do something in this world— not just perpetuate the death and suffering the Holy Xan Empire has created. Not just be another failure like the Shadow’s Evangelium was.” The Demon spoke softly, his eyes were dark and faraway.

Estia hesitated. “You… you worked with them, didn’t you? You were part of the Shadow’s Evangelium.”

“Yes.”

“The Imp. The Fiend. The Reaper. What were they like?” She managed to muster up the courage to ask the question.

“They… were hopeful. They believed in a better world. But when they couldn’t get what they wanted, they became vindictive. Vengeful. They caused a lot of destruction, Estia. They fought a war they couldn’t win— they only wanted to die. We’re not like them. We can never be like them.”

She frowned and stopped. “But it’s a war, Kores. You said it yourself. We can’t win just by sitting around and trying to appease the Church.”

“I’m not saying we appease the Church,” he said, turning back to her. “I’m saying we do things differently. We make allies rather than enemies.”

Estia opened her mouth— and stopped. Kores put a hand out, shaking his head.

“We’ve had this discussion many times before, Estia. However, now’s not the time for it. I know you disagree with me, and I do disagree with you. But all that matters is that we work together.”

Sighing, she nodded and walked after him. “Fine. But I’ll change your mind one day.” She grinned and he chuckled. “What are we in a rush for anyway?”

“There’s a meeting. All the other Heralds and some Apostles will be gathering. And I want you to be one of the Apostles there with us.”

“Wait, why’s everyone meeting? What’s going on?” Estia blinked, slowing to a stop.

Kores smiled as he faced her. “A Dark Sage has returned to the Infernalis. One of the founder of the Dark Crusaders. Jasmin the Voodoo.”

Author's Note:

Hopefully, I will get another chapter out tomorrow. I know people don't like these side POVs, but this one is important!