Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

---Delta---

The Bishop and the bird were clashing in the airs above Delta. One side crackling with lightning, the other filled with holy vengeance. They had crushed Krista's Shield. They had overturned the Holy Domain. They had killed the members of his order.

Turnus, Cupido, Numitor, Tatius... he had technically raised those boys with his own hands. His fist clenched the shaft of his two-handed mace staff. Yet, after all they did, he was still unable to even overpower this stupid bird, despite his opponent being unable even to go all out!

“Ugh! No! Demus! Help!” the Bishop heard the final screams of Jarvan. now even his last remaining ally was caught by the Mass of Roots he had been fighting on the ground. He grimaced in sorrow, but he was unable to come to his help. The moment he turned his back, the bird would attack...

No! He wouldn't allow them to take another one. It was too late for his knights or the parties, but if he managed to save Jarvan and at least return, there was still a chance for retribution and redemption. he was ready to burn his life force and have Covdite descent into his body, when-

Whoom! Something lashed at him.

The apparitions of little fat baby angels under his feet were crushed, turning into sprays of light with every step, as he was suddenly forced to evade the attacks of vines from above. At the same time, he had to defend against the strikes of the lightning eagle.

Was this their plan? Now that Jarvan was subdued the tree was going to join the battle in the sky with the vines hanging off its branches? Demus shot a glance at the lightning bird. Although it was even more frustrating, he knew that he had been unable to go all out so far.

He had seen some of the attacks on the horizon past the city and this fight. however, it seemed unable to use any kinds of clouds or greater winds in consideration of the crown of the giant tree above. If the tree itself joined now, it was as if he had to fight the whole terrain itself.

Everything was over. Even if he sacrificed his life to have an avatar of Covdite descent, he couldn't win here. It wouldn't even be enough to take one of these two with him to the grave. The whole operation was a failure and he was the last one able to move freely.

This left him only one option. It was cowardly. he himself had spoken up against this kind of contingency plan, but now he was the only one left, able to make the decision. A small magic device appeared in his hands.

As a holy man, he hesitated for just a moment. Was it okay to unleash this nightmare, even if it was on his enemies? The moment's hesitation allowed a vine to break his holy shield, redirecting his attention to the tree.

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This utterly demonic abomination that had taken away his disciples. No, even if he had to collude with demons and bring untold suffering, this thing could not be allowed to exist! With the pictures of his disciples in his mind, a last tear rolled down his cheek as he activated the Hell Gates.

“Even if I can't beat you, I will drag you along with me, in the name of Covdite!” the religious zealot exclaimed. Blocking several vines with the blows of his staff, his holy shield regenerated and he charged at the eagle. The device in his hand was crushed and in the next moment, Delta was covered in an orange glow.

Demus rammed his shoulder into the metallic bird and proceeded to grab onto the bird. The metallic feather scraped across his armor and cut his robe, but he didn't care. Crushing the cupids under his feet to exert force and throw himself, together with the eagle to ward the ground.

As they fell, he witnessed the consequences of his actions. At seven places in the city, surrounding the guardian tree, appeared huge circular portals. They stood above the gates that originally opened, like blood moons. Beyond the horizon of the closest one, was the clear image of a hellscape.

Burning lava rock and flames shooting into a dark red sky, filled with smoke and reddish light. The gates were a tactical weapon, not an actual means of transportation. The dimensions past these holes belonged to the Abyss.

The Abyss, in this case, did not describe a single place but was short for the Abyss Alliance, a collection world in the Pathworks, that completely belonged to various demon factions, united in a loose partnership. These worlds were transformed according to the preferences of their ruling factions.

When used, the gates opened a random channel to one of the main worlds of the abyss, opening the floodgates for hordes of demons to invade the location. The literal hellscape he saw was the most common environment the abyss was known for.

Unlike something relatively harmless, like making a deal with Bragmomal as the Durnhams did, this was closer to a Scorched Earth tactic, as no side would be able to use the site. Unless one managed to defeat the unending flow of demons and close the gates.

But once opened, these gates were continuously fueled by the other side making it almost impossible to close them. This was why he hesitated for a moment, but it was too late to ponder, now.

He stared into the mechanical eyes of the bird, as they plunged toward the gray city below. Lightning strikes shook his body, but he grit his teeth and tightened his grip. He would crush the beast on the ground, taking away its maneuverability. Then he could finish it off in melee batt-

The bishop felt a sharp pain penetrating his sides and piercing deep into his stomach and lungs. He felt the strength leaving his grip against his will. Sharp claws ripped away the ragged robe, as the eagle kicked the clergy away from itself, leaving him to tumble toward the ground alone.

In disbelief, Demus looked up at the bird, who was rising back up. His eyes were drawn to his body. His whole torso was penetrated by the bird's metallic feathers, his arms being almost amputated. No wonder he couldn't hold onto it....Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Seeing the ground quickly coming closer, he prayed for the mercy of Covdite and holy power surged in his body. Although he had failed to take down the bird, he wouldn't just die here from a little fall. The feathers were pushed out from his body as the wound started closing.

Demus regained his bearing and caught his fall with his . He looked up at the eagle, arrogantly circling in the air above. Then he looked to the gates. Many were filled with hellscapes, others with eternal night or a dim darkness.

It had not even been a minute since they opened, but he could already see demonic beasts pouring from the massive circles in the sky. He threw the bird another glance, but there was nothing he could do. ꭆάŊỐ𝖇Ё𐌔

Demons knew neither friend nor foe. The bishop had to leave unless he wanted to fight the hordes alongside the tree and the bird. As long as he got away from the tree he would survive. It was just a question of time to find a way back home then.

He turned around to charge to the outskirts of Delta, aiming to leave the city, but he was suddenly hit in the stomach, by a fist that felt like it would blow apart his body into a cloud of blood.

“Young friend, why are you already trying to leave?” a benign old man, with the fist of the devil asked friendly.