Chương 13: Chapter 13: Vengeance

He knew absolutely nothing.

For a single night and morning, as the rain fell to the earth, pooling in brown puddles, and the wind danced with multiple trees; under the protection of the overhang, Tahmut questioned the stranger about Agartha; trying to find out anything that could lead to a location, only to receive the same repeated answer that, to him, sounded more of a plea:

"I don't know!"

It seems like with most hearsay, this one is also proving to be false.

Tahmut is far from disappointed, however, on the contrary.

While others might consider his adventure thus far a waste of time—unfruitful, even—Tahmut feels as though he's gained something:

An understanding.

Although powerful in his own right, Tahmut is still, amongst the supernatural world, a child.

As such, he realized, the seeds he sows now, in the future, will grow. And, being the gardener, he plans for a good harvest.

"Now what?"

The stranger who stood before Tahmut, is no longer in existence.

No. Tahmut did not consume the human—there was no point in that. His fire was enough.

Besides, to do such a thing is beneath him.

Stepping out from under the overhang, the rain now barely a drizzle; the sun, as if too nervous to show itself, peeking subtly over a cloud, Tahmut looked left and right before sprouting his wings; in a single flap becoming airborne.

As Tahmut flew over Minome forest—on his way back to his mountain—the cogs in his mind's wheel were turning.

The future, at least, to him, was bright; his goal of becoming a Dragon God was gaining ever closer.

After flying for a while, although unnecessary, Tahmut landed for a break at the base of a mountain; a stones throw away, a placid blue lake.

Taking a seat across from said lake, his back against a boulder, Tahmut enjoyed the harmonic sounds of singing birds and the gentle rustling of swaying leaves for a while. And, as if lulled by nature herself, fell asleep—or, would have, if not for the group of Devils he sensed not to far from his location, on the other side of the mountain. Three in total—all between mid and high class.

"Is this it?" asked one, whining.

"It better be—we've been looking for this sword for weeks," answered another, "'Sword of Malevolence'", more like: "'Sword of Non-Existence'". You know, guys, I used to like coming to the human world—its scenery is much better than the ours—but now, because of this trip, even if one of the Demon Kings themselves asked me to come back—no, even if they ordered me to, I wouldn't come back. It's all your fault. All because you want to—"

"Shut up, Andreas, we're here," said the last in a domineering tone, the apparent leader; his gaze locked on a dilapidated shrine-like entrance leading into the mountain. Cobwebs hung from its corners with pillars on either side cracked and crumbling.

"Once I acquire this sword, I will gain praise and favor from our lord. I'm sure you two have heard the whispers of war. I, for one, will not be left behind. I will become a main stay in our lord's army. This sword will make that happen. Don't worry, you'll both be duly compensated. Now, let's go—we've been here long enough," the leader said, entering the cave, followed closely by the others.

"Interesting," Tahmut said, floating just above the departing trio, having heard their exchange. "It seems this trip will bear fruit after all."

More so thanks to Ophis than his actual abilities, Tahmut could breathe on one's neck and they be none the wiser. Only by those considered adept in stealth could Tahmut be detected.

Following them inside, Tahmut, as well as the Devils, took in their surroundings.

The corridor, much like the entrance, was covered in cobwebs; human-like figures depicting a battle were etched on the cave walls.

"What's so special about this sword anyway? Does it have some ancient Demon sealed inside of it or something?" Andreas asked, sweeping a cobweb from his face; the trio were approaching a set of ten foot iron doors.

"No," replied the leader, stopping in front of the doors, "but it does have a mind of its own."

His ominous words caused the two Devils to go on guard, their backs rigid. They both thought the same thing: the sword is sentient?!

The two Devils thought they were just helping a friend, and now, it's turned into a life and death ordeal. Yes, they were expecting the odd fight here and there, but not one against a sword! A sentient one at that!

Though it may not come to pass, they both know, sentient swords are bad news. They would have no chance against one.

Pushing against the door, the leading Devil opened it easily, to his apparent surprise and, soon after, a dense, shin high fog rolled out.

"Are you sure?" Andreas asked pensively, watching the fog at his feet, "If this sword is sentient, which I hope isn't true, wouldn't it, I don't know, have the mind to reject you? How are you going to get it?"

"Who cares if it's sentient," came the swift reply of the leader. "I am a Devil. And Devils take what they want."

The chamber held a feint red glow and the smell of metal permeated the air.

In the middle, embedded on a pedestal crudely cut from the mountain, a great sword stood; its blade—the source of the light—rhythmically, like a heart beat, pulsating.

"Did you hear that?" the Devil who had only spoken at the entrance asked, his head turning warily from left to right.

"Hear what?" the leader asked offhandedly, not once turning away from the sword; his eyes and smile gleaming with intense greed.

With each pulse, the light would fade, and the sword's features could be seen:

Black veins spread across its crimson face; the hilt, too, was black, with veins wrapping around it, forming a pommel on the end.

"A whisper," the same Devil replied, at times, nervously looking over his shoulder.

Andreas was about to speak, already next to the shaken Devil, when the leader spoke, his tone slightly different, something his comrades picked up on:

"No matter—stay here," he said, grinning all the while as he approached the sword, "Watch how I achieve glory!"

Only four stone steps stood between him and centuries of prestige.

Without responding, the two Devils acquiesced, standing on either side of the iron doors. They're just hoping things go well.

As the leading Devil wrapped his hand around the hilt, Tahmut, expecting a reaction, was slightly disappointed to see none.

There was no explosion of energy nor any light show; the sword, still pulsating in the same heart beat-like fashion as before, simply slid out of its stone prison like Tahmut's teeth going through flesh—easily.

"Gaha—ahahaha—HAHA! Finally," the leader exclaimed in glee, laughing harshly, as he turned around to his comrades, sword in hand. "Finally, I'll be in our lords favor! Finally, I'll be given what I deserve!"

It was then, during the leading Devils celebration, that the cave housing the sword began to shake.

"Dolin! Dolin! Let's go, it coming down!" Andreas shouted from behind the threshold of the entrance; the Devil who supposedly heard something was already half way down the corridor.

"DOLIN!"

But the leader, Dolin, didn't move. Instead, the smile on his face widened and his laughter grew boisterous.

"I can do anything! Yes, with you by my side, all will be mine! Why be a subordinate, when I can usurp the leader?! Are you with me, Ultio?! From today onward, we shall rule the world!"

If the cave was shaking like a leaf blown by gusty wind before, now, it trembled like a tree in the midst of a hurricane.

Tahmut, already out of the chamber—floating just above the entrance to the cave—watched in awe as the light show he wanted to see earlier, came to fruition.

As red and black light in the shape of a cylinder pierced the clouds, Tahmut could only smile. He's heard stories of this particular sword. And, if what the leader said rings true (the sword's name, that is), Agartha pales in comparison to the excitement Ultio will bring.

"Show me," Tahmut said telepathically, hoping Ultio hears, "Show me how you fly, Vengeance."

"As you wish, Dragon," came a cold, metallic reply.