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Kara hovered above a wreckage she just made, her breathing sharp and uneven, a hulking demon clenched in one hand by the throat. Its claws scraped uselessly at her wrist, molten fire dripping from its jaws as it struggled.
Her eyes flicked across the battlefield.
"Arthur can you…?"
No answer.
No presence beside her.
"Oh right.. He just flew off.."
Her jaw tightened. With a sudden twist, she snapped the demon's neck and let the corpse fall into the inferno below.
She turned sharply toward Constantine in the distance.
"What are we supposed to do now?" she called.
John wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, hands already forming sigils of magic.
"We finish the job," he replied dryly. "Glad he didn't take his entire shadow circus with him. That'd have been awkward."
Zatanna scoffed, though sweat glistened on her brow as she raised her hands, eyes glowing faintly.
"EcI fo mrots!"
At her command. A swarm of winged demons twisted mid-flight, bodies freezing as if time itself rejected them, before bursting into shards of ice.
"Their numbers are getting smaller," she muttered, scanning the endless tide of enemies. "Arthur's shadows are merciless..."
John smirked. "We do love biting off more than we can chew sometimes, but now I do feel sorry for them... almost."
Kara launched herself forward, frustration and worry rising in her chest.
A serpentine demon lunged for her she met it head-on, tearing it in half mid-air and hurling the remains into another pack. A towering brute charged, only to have its skull shattered by a single punch.
"Stay down!" she snapped, even as more rushed in.
Heat vision flared from her eyes, a brilliant crimson arc cutting through a cluster of fiends and turning them to drifting ash.
But her focus kept slipping.
Arthur was out there.
Chasing Azazel.
Alone.
Her fists clenched. "…You better not get yourself in trouble."
Near the center of the battlefield, Constantine stood back-to-back with Zatanna as a demon stitched from screaming faces lunged at them.
John raised a hand lazily.
"Oi. Personal space."
Hellfire erupted into chains that wrapped around the creature, dragging it to its knees.
Zatanna stepped forward, voice sharp and precise.
"Kaerb!"
The demon folded inward on itself, screaming as it collapsed into nothing.
John glanced sideways. "That was terrifying."
She smirked faintly. "The demon or my magic?"
"You are."
Behind them, Arthur's forces tore through the demons.
Heavenly Soldiers carved radiant arcs through infernal hordes, as if they were made specifically to battle demons and the damned.
Demon Knights advanced in disciplined formation, blades flashing with ruthless attacks that meant to kill in one strike.
Beru rampaged through enemies with manic delight, laughing as he ripped demons apart. Igris moved like a silent executioner, his Demon King Longsword tracing flawless lethal arcs of lightning. Doom crushed skulls with lazy efficiency, while Ultra streaked through the sky in violet flashes. H'El hovered protectively near Constantine and Zatanna, incinerating anything that looked dangerous and strayed too close.
Slowly, the demon army began to collapse.
Far from the battlefield, atop a jagged hell-mountain, Azazel sat on scorched bones.
The real Azazel.
Wind tore at his black wings as crimson storms churned overhead.
Then his eyes narrowed.
A presence locked onto him.
Surprise flickered across his expression before turning into a grin.
"…He found me.."
A low chuckle escaped him as he rose, wings spreading wide.
"I didn't know you could do that, Lord of Shadows."
He gazed toward the farthest edge of Hell toward a place even demons feared to name.
"The bastard is coming after me…"
His smile sharpened.
"Good. I'll lead him somewhere fitting."
With a sinister laugh, Azazel launched himself into the sky.
At Hell's distant boundary yawned a colossal abyss.
A pit so vast it swallowed everything.
Chains the size of towers lay shattered around its rim. Faces screamed from the stone walls. Pillars leaned inward like they feared to look below.
From its depths rose endless sound:
Wails.
Cries.
Whispers.
The echo of bones breaking again and again.
The place screamed of suffering and torture.
A grave and an exile for things that should never return.
A streak of violet-black tore across Hell's sky.
Arthur flew like a falling star made of shadow, dark cloak trailing behind him, Thanatos Bronte spear gripped in one hand.
He closed the distance with terrifying speed.
Azazel glanced back mid-flight, smirking.
"Come, Shadow," he murmured. "Let's see how your dominion handles what waits below."
Arthur did not respond.
He simply accelerated.
And the screaming abyss drew closer.
Arthur came to a halt at the rim of the abyss, the Pit of Hell itself stretching below him. His violet eyes glowed, narrowing as he surveyed the darkness and the screams that rose from it.
"The Pit of Hell…" he murmured, voice low, reverent.
From the far distance, Azazel's figure hovered above the brim of the pit, wings folding neatly, a wicked grin on his face.
"Masak Mavdil," he called, voice carrying over the screaming wind, "the exile… where we send those we don't like to."
Arthur's grip on his spear tightened, the shadows along his arms coiling. "And you led me here… so you can try and force me inside?"
Azazel laughed, coldly. "I'll try. But even if I cannot…" His hand pointed upward.
Arthur's gaze followed it.
A massive entity circled above the pit wings wider than the horizon itself, feathers and scales melding into a terrifying amalgam of angelic and demonic form. Its presence alone was ominous, its eyes glowed with a muted crimson, a blind being, but it was surveying the pit below.
"Another fallen angel…" Arthur muttered. "How many of you are there?"
Azazel tilted his head, amused, his voice dripping venom. "That one? That is Abaddon. Guardian of the Pit, warden of those who trespass… He does not take kindly to visitors, or to those who think of escape."
Arthur's violet eyes flicked back to Azazel. "And what does that make you?"
"The lesser fool," Azazel replied, wings twitching, "who knows how to bait the truly dangerous." His expression hardened as he gestured, "Abaddon will strike, and you will feel the weight of its hospitality."
Arthur's voice was calm, almost bored. "And yet you sent me here yourself, are you cetain it won't attack you as well?"
"Of course," Azazel said, voice low and deadly. "I controlled my presence knowing this firsthand. I knew you would come seeking my life… and in doing so, you walk willingly into the jaws of the Pit.. with a hostile intent in mind."
The monstrous form of Abaddon descended with the inevitability of a storm, circling faster, wings chopping through the hellish winds like blades. Its roar shook the very edge of the pit, a sound both infernal and divine.
Arthur exhaled slowly, the faintest smile curling at the edge of his lips. With the speed of thought, he hurled his spear toward Azazel.
The weapon streaked through the air, a blur of shadow and steel. It pierced Azazel's shoulder before the fallen angel even had a chance to react. A scream of rage tore from his throat.
"Curse you!"
Arthur did not pause. He surged upward, shadow violet flames licking at his form as he rocketed toward Abaddon, moving with an unnatural, terrifying velocity.
Azazel's eyes widened, a rare flicker of surprise cutting across his face. "Crazy bastard!…" he hissed. "Does he not know what this being can do?"
Arthur's voice carried upward over the winds of the Pit, calm and lethal. "I'm going to find out."
The two collided midair. Shadows met wings and claws, the sound like thunder ripping through Hell itself. Abaddon lashed out, striking with a force that could shatter mountains, and Arthur danced through it, spear spinning in a deadly arc. His shadow armor flared, horns glowing faintly in the infernal light.
Etrigan secretly followed Arthur and he observed the pit from a distance.
Arthur's eyes never left Abaddon, calculating, analyzing and waiting for attacks. With a sudden burst, he attacked again, shadows erupting outward in a tidal wave of violet energy. The warden faltered, confusion flickering for a fraction of a second.
"I will not be stopped… not by you, not by anything this realm or this pit can throw at me."
Azazel who kept his distance laughed "He will learn the folly of his arrogance…"
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want