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30.96% The Order Of Chaos / Chapter 60: The Order

Capítulo 60: The Order

"That bastard is alive! Son of a bitch, I am going to T-bag your bitch ass the next time I see him!" A masked man declared, with the numerical number of 'III' imprinted at the top of his mask. "How long have you known Zero! Wait no! Why the hell did you not say anything?"

Twitching his brow, Zireael sent Zero a dark look that screamed betrayal. "Why the hell is he here?"

"You dare speak to me like so?! It will seem your time away has allowed your balls to drop!" III arrogantly proclaimed, arching his head high as though he were a lord or king. "Shall the Nut Shot war resume once more!? Bring it bitch!"

Slapping his face Zireael in exacerbation, a glint sharper than that of a blade shone within his eyes, "Foolish Elder brother. You think because you are at the crossroads of immortality, I shall allow you to break past my guard? Your not even—"

"Ok, that's enough! Dare god, how the hell are you, two even brothers? Didn't the both of you get PTSD from doing this shit? Do you all never learn?"

"Don't think I won't start this war with you as well, Zero! Your bitch-ass was hiding in the corner the entire time! You had it just as bad as us! Was it not you who would only speak to us when your crotch was facing a corner!?"

Placing his fist to his mouth hidden behind his mask, Zero coughed, "Anyway!" he said as to change the conversation, "I have reviewed the info you sent me. Are you still able to see the Weave? Before, you could only receive glimpses."

"Why do you think even speaking my True Name is a death sentence? Before my fall, my abilities began to grow at a rapid rate. It may have been tied to my emotional state, but before I knew it. I could see and manipulate The Weave like it was second nature."

"Is that all? Can your soul support that ability?" Zero sharply inquired.

It had to be understood that manipulating the Weave was a mythical feat. Countless gods, devils, and beasts had strived for endless cycles simply to see the Weave, much less control it.

"I can use it once. After that, I go into a coma or risk death altogether. It's a dangerous power that I am quite fearful even to use. The last time I used it was to seal Aurelia's staff." Zireael hastily said from high above a tree, glancing down at the sleeping faces of the children. "Were it not for some special incense to dampen the chaos of my soul, I would have died."

"Little brother, seems quite invested. Never would I imagine you, of all people, would do something like this. Aside from Zero, you are the most cautious person." III voice in a peculiar tone that suggested something more.

"Well, now we are linked, so I guess it was the right decision, but I am not too happy about it. But no matter, for now, do you have anything for me?"

"A bit of bad news," Zero stated, "We need the Ether Pool. After you fell, our organization was attacked and, for the most part, crippled for conspiring with you. They got our surface pawns, but it still did a lot of damage to the organization."

Creasing his brow, Zireael hummed in response, "It's yours. I am sure you all need it more than I do right now. However, I need a fully updated database and information regarding this planet known as Alos. "

"I have already sent over a letter. It should arrive within your mansion soon," Said Zero as he continued, " how much time do we have left?"

Lifting his gaze with glowing eyes, Zireael scowled, "The flow is changing around you all, and someone is trying to peer within your domain. You have about a minute."

"I'm on it," III solemnly affirmed, "Good luck, little bro. Our little sis shall be quite happy to know her brother survived." he comforted, vanishing in a blaze of flames.

Silent for a moment, Zireael's icy heart seemed to warm for but a moment before a hail of ice returned.

"I have analyzed some of the data you sent me, and I can confirm, at least four great planes were involved with it: The Astral Sea, Elysium, Oblivian, and finally the Nine Hells. Someone used all four types of energies to cast this spell. You need to be careful; after we regroup, I will communicate with you through Anima." Zero hastily said, severing the connection without notice.

"I said a minute, not a few seconds," Zireael mocked with a smile, "As cautious as ever, aren't you."

Pushing off the tree, Zireael fell on his feet; somewhat in a good mood, he approached a campfire that laid a small party of children. Studying their sleeping faces, a hint of envy seemed to reflect between his brow.

Listening to the crackles of the flames against the night skies, Zireael placed his hands upon the owl shape pummel of his sword. Drawing his blade, a gruesome sword intent that seemed to scream with the voice of the dead roared within his mind.

Releasing an indifferent breath of air, the glint of blade shone through the air like a magical fairy of night. It was graceful to the tip yet deadly as death.

Dancing through the night, a heavy sweat covered Zireaels body as faint echoes of muscles being strained and pulled seemed to sing with each stroke of his blade.

'Faster,' the young lord thought to himself. Swinging with only his sword intent as a guide, Zireael soon became lost within the night. Every moment with the darkness around him, he swung, pierced, chopped, parried till his muscles burned like molten lava.

Turning red, purple, and black beneath his clothing, a soft empty grunt escaped his lips, watching as his sword fell from his hands and onto the ground.

Hearing the ringing of steel in the air, Zireael froze, looking down at his hands that were swollen and puffy. A little taken back, a helpless laugh escaped his lips before his legs gave out the from under him.

Crashing on the ground, Zireael held his sights upon the moon bearing down with its glow, "Was it worth it? Banishing me to the deepest depths of hell, that is. And all for what? Even to this day, I do not know. Was it jealousy? Hatred? Love?

Shaking his head, the Silver Devil began to chuckle, "It matters not; once I learn of your name, you will never escape. That I can promise. "


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