Arc 4:
Part 2: We Dig Our Own Graves
**Tartarus**
At the once highly guarded and closed off prison of the world, a notorious group occupied the highest section atop a black cube in the Arctic.
The rummaged room they solicited was decorated with the remnants of W.M.A. who were unfortunate to cross paths with them.
Blood painted the walls, and the room was a mess, minus the large table they all sat at, accompanied by the flickers of a single busted hanging light overhead.
Before them was a purged out wall with nothing but the howling snowstorm outside.
And then a man teleported in.
He stood at eight feet, with a plumed hat on his head that protruded large horns from them, and a half-doctors mask, which he respectfully took off.
"Jinxu is dead," he announced.
There were seven others, excluding him: two females and five males. Some of their features were shadowed by the dark as the broken light flashed eerily above them—each one displaying different features than the next.
"How unfortunate," the one down the center said. His seat was turned away from them all, but he clearly led the group with his presence alone as he went on, "He had a useful ability when he wasn't flustered. That was his only flaw. Much like Drakthor when faced with an enemy who is clearly stronger. He cannot help but let his emotions get the better of him."
When he turned around, they all straightened as if he had compelled them to.
"This weakness is unacceptable," Wrath said.
One of them gulped as he said this.
"And what of Hawk's whereabouts?"
"Still unknown. And he is not responding to the beacon," Gorran replied.
"Clearly." Wrath's words were drenched in calm animosity.
Gorran rotated his jaw as if regretting that careless reply.
"How many items do we have in our possession?" Wrath asked.
"Nine. Minus the one Hawk currently has possession of," a well put-together man with an officer's cap said. "We stored them all in a secured room. They are ready for trade with the Apostles."
Wrath said nothing. He didn't even face him. It was as if he was expected to give that answer.
"I need a couple of you out there to help guide our guests. It is good that they are nearing, however, I need their numbers few. If you can manage to kill Daz, I will promote you above Arthur."
Their eyes flashed at each other after Wrath's words. A large, rugged man in brown leather. A blonde, put-together woman in a maiden's dress. A posh, lax man in blue-and-white royals clothes. Another mischeveous-looking female in jean and beige fur attire, wearing also a deviant smile. Another leaner man in the corner wearing mostly black, and with white hair, looking to have an uncomfortable itch about him. And, of course, the one with the officer's cap and navy uniform, draped by a long coat—Arthur—who glared at them all like they had no chance.
"Each one of you here is an SS rank mage. Don't let the mistakes of Drakthor, Jinxu, or Hawk be the reason you fail, too. Otherwise… you're worthless to me."
The mood shifted to a more solemn tone; each one of them not wanting to disappoint their Master.
"I cannot let loose ends ruin the plans I have set forth," Wrath spoke, rising from his seat. "I've been away for too long. It seems my authority has drifted, leaving only weakness among my Head Officers. If you believe this to be false—prove me otherwise. If any of you run into Hawk on the way. Kill him. He is no longer useful to Riot Gang."
They all nodded as he turned away. "I will not accept failure," he said lastly before leaving the group to their own devices. "For if you do, you are no longer useful to me."
A short moment passed after he left, and then Gorran exhaled like he had been holding in his breath that entire time.
"Aw, what's wrong Gorran? Still scared of Wrathy?" the seductive-looking female in jean and beige said, mechanical tail whipping behind her seat.
"Still fawning over the Master, Lilith?" he replied—a bland jab. His black cloak fluttered from behind.
"Always," she replied coquettishly.
Another woman scoffed at her. "I see why you're third on the roster. All you do is stay here and blow the Master," she commented. Her strawberry blonde hair was long, with strands that were tied in relaxed pigtails. She scooted her intertwined hands closer toward the center of the table, showing off her red-pointed nails.
"What's wrong with that, Evalyn?" Lilith replied obliviously.
"You're a hopeless whore who will die a slow death when it's your time." The light above her flickered, revealing her red and white renaissance fair maiden's dress. Her violet eyes glinted to them all, as an odd creature outlined behind her resembling an eight armed mannequin. It was so still, as if time had frozen it there.
Evalyn went on, "I on the other hand, prefer the field work." She looked over to Gorran. "Take me to them. If you teleported them within the southern Mountain jurisdiction, they'll be near my territory."
"I'll come along as well," another sharper man said from across. He still wore his half-doctor's mask as he lounged with his legs crossed over the table.
His blue and white royal-like attire revealed briefly as he brushed his shoulder and shrouded himself back into a long, blue robe. When he appeared in the flickering light, his hair was gray with two curved horns atop his head. And when he leaned forward, a silver pentagram dangled from his neck.
Evalyn clicked her tongue. "You better not get in my way Velm. If you do—"
"If I do, what will you do?" he glared at her with an easy, calm smile that mocked her without trying. "I am the fifth Head Officer, and you are what again? Oh, that's right. Number seven."
She ground her teeth and said, "We are ranked on the usefulness of our abilities, not our prowess. Had it been that, I would be ranked much higher than you, sheep."
"Goat. I prefer Goat. And you said it yourself. We are ranked on our usefulness to Wrath." He glared at her with stark blue eyes. "If you get in my way, I'll hardly do much. You'll just die worthlessly, like the squealing pig you are."
"Says the one who hardly came back alive only to bring back half an item."
"At least I had an item to bring back. Unlike a certain someone…"
She slammed her fist onto the table, and the odd creature behind her whirred.
The lights in the place flickered wildly like they had been briefly activated, and the one in the middle dangled, swinging in a circular motion overhead. None of them reacted.
In the light, she was clearly well put together, fit, and elegant. Nothing like the 'pig' she had been called.
"If you prefer Goat, then I prefer Boar," she said calmly. "Do I make myself clear, Velm?"
"You sure do," he replied boredly. "Now, what say you, Ox? Will you take us both?" Velm turned his head to Gorran.
He was silent for a moment before responding, "I won't object." He faced away and began walking toward the blasted wall and screaming winds of the Arctic. "But if you choose to go out gun's blazing just like Jinxu, I won't hesitate to leave you behind."
"I wouldn't have it any other way!" Velm replied extravagantly. "My crew has been dying for some action."
"As is mine," Evalyn added. "And if I run into that goddamn Rooster. I'll make him regret ever crossing Master Wrath."
"How valiant of you," Velm commented.
"Hurry up," Gorran interjected. "If you want a chance at their heads, they've recently been captured by the Mountain Kingdom."
"Perfect board layout. If I do say so myself…" Evalyn said just before the three of them vanished in to thin air, leaving the others behind.
The room was silent for a good minute or two, and then the itchy one with white hair in the back uttered, "Keeper, I hate them…"
***
**Hours later. Mountain Kingdom**
Greed:
The sound of rusted metal slammed shut in my face. I had found myself behind prison bars.
The sound of distant water dripping was the only other sound in this Keeperforsaken place. It was also the only other distraction I could focus on; that or the smell of piss that lingered behind the scent of dirt in the air.
A door opened somewhere, followed by the obnoxious rasp of Havoc's voice as he complained to the guards who had brought him in.
He was cuffed from behind as they shoved him in the same cell as me. He turned around just as they shut the cell door, kicking the bars with the bottom of his boot, and shouted, "You hear me!? When I get out of these fucking cuffs, I swear to the fucking Keeper I'll—"
"Yo," I uttered to him.
"Oh, hey, what's up Cap? We gonna break out of this shithole or what?"
"No."
"What the fuck? Why? You can easily—"
I raised my index to my mouth, and shook my head slowly, quietly.
Havoc gave me an incredulous look and whispered, "Why?"
"Just trust me."
"Always with the secret planning," he complained. "But all right, I guess… And why am I cuffed from behind, unlike you? This blows harder than Brand on a hot, sandy day!"
In the cell across from us was Code and Brand. They had been sitting quietly to themselves in different corners, all the while. That was… until Brand heard Havoc's comment.
"I TOLD YOU IT'S NOT A BLOWING SYSTEM IT'S A COOLING HYDRAULIC SYST—"
Havoc chuckled maniacally from across as he effortlessly changed the topic, with Brand's bickering sounding off in the background of this damp, musty place.
"Where's Nash?" Havoc asked, now sitting next to me on the filthy stone floor.
"No idea. He probably adapted to the nullifying cuffs when they apprehended him, so they're most likely figuring out how to detain him at the time being."
"And the girls?"
"In another section for female prisoners, I assume."
"This place is a joke, if you'd only let us… then we can," he said as discreetly as he could—which I knew was asking too much from him…
"I told you all to stand down," I said flatly.
"Didn't know that order meant 'until further notice'…"
Before all this, they apprehended us all except for Daz. He gave me a look that said, 'don't do anything stupid for now'. And that for now part was what I was betting on. I didn't know what surprised me more, the fact that I had chosen to listen to him without a solid plan, or the fact that I had gotten arrested yet a-fucking-gain.
I was hardly paying attention, but there were a few others in this cell with me and Havoc. Two of them had been listening in our conversation, which was another reason I wanted Havoc to keep his mouth shut.
One of them stood, making his way over to me.
He shuddered the ground slightly with each muffled step he took, and he was fairly large. When he was near me to the side, he looked at me with an antagonistic expression.
"Empty your pockets," he said with an ugly voice.
I didn't say a word. I didn't even look at him.
He crouched and leaned forward, his hideous mug inches from my face now. "Hard of hearing?"
"You must know they confiscate our things before throwing us in these cells, right? I have nothing. Now back off, or else," I warned with a dead calm.
He stared at me for a good while before mustering up a repulsive laugh, coming from the bellows of his gut.
He roared hysterically, carelessly in my face as I felt his spit splatter from the side.
He then looked at the other man he was once with, and gestured to me. "Get a load of this guy. He thinks he can take me!"
The other man laughed hideously as well. "I don't know why you bother asking, when you're just gonna hang him upside-down anyway and shake the scraps out of him."
"I'm trying to be polite!" He shrugged, and then faced me again. "Now, come here, little shit."
He reached for my leg, and quicker than he could blink, I grabbed his hand, interlocking our fingers, and jabbed his face and then his chest with our knuckles in rapid succession.
I began to rise from where I sat, and as I did, he began to kneel—our hands still joined together in marriage, all the while.
He had a look of bewilderment plastered all over his face as I stood over him with a solemn expression.
His hand shuttered in mine as I pushed it back slightly, and it followed with the sound of a snap from his joint. He then wailed and writhed in agony.
I looked over to his friend, and he startled, taking a step back. I then slowly leaned forward to the man before me and said, "Do you want me to put it back?"
He whimpered and nodded his head eagerly.
I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "If I do, and you still try to act tough, I'll break your arm again, and then your other,"—I looked back to his friend—"and then I'll break your friend's legs so you two can be each other's rock."
He whimpered more intensely, but I quieted him and said, "Do I make myself clear?"
He nodded violently as I snapped his arm back in place in less than a second, letting him go at last.
"Now, leave us be," I said coldly.
The man picked himself up, and squirmed back to the shadows from whence he came.
"Keeper, Cap… 'I'll break your arm again, and then your other, and then I'll break your friend's legs, and then your family lineage…'" he chuckled at the end.
I shrugged and sat back down next to him.
When I looked across the cells that Code and Brand were in, Code gestured with a finger to his right—my left.
I scooted up closer to the bars to see, and it was Nash heavily detained. They even put an iron half mask on him as they led him into our same cell.
When the metal bars slammed shut, he only stood there. The first he saw were the two prisoners I intimidated, and when they beheld the look in his eyes, he merely snarled at them, and they winced.
Havoc chuckled louder at his arrival. "Man, how the fucking turntables! Look who's the animal now?"
"Not my fault I'm so much stronger than you that they had to figure out what to do with me. And it's 'tables turned' not 'turntables'… furry," Nash said with a muffled voice through his iron mask.
Havoc's nostrils flared as he barked back at him, and I ignored them.
Hours passed, and then finally a set of new guards arrived and opened our cell.
As the cell doors rattled open, one of the guards looked at me with disgust for a second before finally saying, "Get up."
I looked back to Havoc and Nash.
"Just you. Hurry up."
I rose, making my way to him. Before I could step out, he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me forward.
From there, the guards hooded me, and then led me through a labyrinth of halls.
Turn after turn, rising platform after rising platform, I studied, counting my paces through each hall, and through each flight of stairs. After walking and rising up floating platforms for what seemed like twenty or so minutes. We had finally arrived.
They brought me to my knees as they unveiled me, cuffs still bound to my wrists. I now found myself in a grand room of red and off-white. The massive red rug before me led to a few steps of stairs, and on the spaced out landing above was a table with two men: Idiot King Daz, and the other whom I did not know.
Behind them, there was no wall. Only the outside of a vast city and snowy mountains in the distance, covered by a temperature regulating mana barrier between them and the outside.
"Ah! There he is! That's the Captain of my number one Guild," Daz called.
"You must be joking," the other man said. His voice wasn't deep, but the manner in which he spoke emanated a presence that demanded respect.
He had black, buzzed hair, a mustache that covered his mouth, red piercing eyes, and a stern expression. He wore mostly red as he was adorned with royal garbs, and the part that stood out the most was the hide and head of a Tyrannosaur he wore like a robe, wrapped around his shoulders; the Tyrannosaur's head was perched nicely on his left.
He was also much larger than he looked, perhaps seven feet, but I was too far away to tell properly.
"This mage knight has no mana. How can he be the Captain of your number one Guild? Let alone a Captain of anything?" he expressed, words dipped in animosity.
"I urge you not to underestimate him. Those who have, are no longer here to tell the tale," Daz said. "And if you don't believe me, why don't you try contacting that Maven Knight that attacked us a few months back?"
The man's eyes narrowed to Daz; a fierce scowl glowered at him now.
"Oh, that's right. I bet you have been…" Daz glowered back with unwavering gray eyes. "How's that going?"
He said nothing, like they were playing a game of the mind, and Daz had effortlessly put him in check.
"And of course, if you don't believe me, you can always put him to test yourself…"
That Idiot King… he only brought me here to fight on his behalf.
"That won't be necessary," the man replied, and I was surprised to hear that.
He rose, and slowly made his way over to me.
The closer he got, the larger he looked. He truly was seven feet—perhaps taller.
When he finally arrived feet away from me, he looked down with that permanent scowl he wore at all times.
"So, it was you?"
"Elaborate," I replied as my glare met his.
No reply. He was not only large and intimidating, but he was smart, too.
"It was you who defeated a Maven Knight," he said. That wasn't a question.
His wording was strategic. He did not want to claim affiliation with Syemore or the Blue Phoenixes, but he still wanted to make sure, acting as if he was merely well informed. Even though he knew that we knew the truth.
I saw Daz in the background shaking his head slowly, and a bland expression carried it. Telling me not to fight. Not to reveal. Not to lay out the facts that the Mountain Kingdom hadn't just tried to infiltrate, and overtake the Valley over two months ago.
I was to do nothing, and nothing at all…
"You must know who I am, right?" the man asked. "I am the Arcane King of the Mountain Kingdom."
As he said this the pressure in the room got thicker. I was already on my knees, but my body was forced lower by some unknown force. My head almost touched the ground as I clenched my teeth.
Capitulation? I thought as I struggled.
"And who are you?" he asked me. Ominously.
I ground my teeth, trying to stand. It felt like an entire mountain had fallen over me, and I had caught it with my back. Oh, how this feeling brought back a painful memory…
"I asked you," he said as the pressure intensified and I writhed on the ground. "Who. Are. You?"
My head nearly touched the floor, but I would not let it.
With every ounce of my strength, I shifted my leg up, and slammed my boot to the ground. Pushing. Staggering upward.
I grunted as my teeth rattled, and my other leg had found its way to the front to join the other.
I was still crouched. And this pressure was still so immensely powerful.
But I did not care.
All my life, I had always needed to prove myself. Always needed to answer that Keeperforsaken question.
Who are you?
What are you?
And every time. I gave them the same answer. Every time, my presence was like an anomaly they did not want to accept.
Yet here I was anyway.
And if I did not rise, then it would just prove how utterly useless…
A thought came to mind of my time in the W.M.A. Asura was there… and two others… one with red and gold hair, and the other with a mask and officer's cap…
How utterly worthless…
Then the thought of that day when I had awoken in this world, and what stood before me was a massive creature, lording over me like this man was…
How utterly powerless…
Another thought came soon after the last. The time Belle and I had died, and Pride lorded over me with a hand to my neck, killing us both that day.
And how utterly pathetic…
A final thought came, and it was with my siblings and our father… It had been just after Wrath had twisted my limbs to unrecognizability, leaving me groveling—pissing in the dirt. And our father—the Lord—had watched from afar; utter disappointment found in his glare.
I was…
I then shrouded in focus as the ground beneath me cratered, and I saw the Arcane King of the Mountain shudder ever so slightly.
It can't be…
I heard his thoughts.
He's—
I roared, forcing myself to stand amidst his Capitulation, my head the last to rise as it followed my body upward.
No more… I will not be weak anymore. All my memories flooded me then, following this moment.
My eyes slowly rose to meet his. And though I was shaking, I let my will carry me upward.
No magic. No Tantra. Just pure will.
If nothing was what I was to offer him. Then nothing was what I will give.
My gaze met his at last. The pressure around us thickened, warping the room, cracking the walls and pillars of this place.
But still I stood, looking the Arcane King of the Mountain in the fucking eyes.
"I am no one," I said at last. "Just a man with many sins, who wants to be free."
Daz grew a wicked smile, forged of passion and defiance. A surge of goosebumps flooded him like the time he had freed me from the seal under my tongue.
Yes. That is exactly how you respond, Greed of the Black Wolves!
The Arcane King of the Mountain remained as he was, his glower unwavering, matching mine.
He lowered his head, and at last, the pressure was gone. What followed next was an intense pulse that escaped him, shattering the ground, the walls, the pillars… and then the room as everything had begun to crumble into thousands of pieces all around us.
Then he merely raised a hand, and everything halted like he had commanded it to; even gravity dared not push back against him.
"You, Black Wolf of the Valley," he spoke with a pure, dominating voice that ruptured this entire Kingdom.
"You have my attention."