Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Semi Dark Chapter 𝒷𝒹ℴ𝓿𝓁.𝓬𝓸𝓂

Awakening to the next dawn, never to be seen over the blazing skies of Avenos, the sounds of metal striking against one another, followed by depraving wails of madness and anarchy, entered my eyes. I could about taste the dew of suffering over the tip of my tongue as I opened my eyes to the new dawn a the top of the Bridge of the Damned.

I wasn’t sure why… Or how but it felt cold, surrounded by this inferno. My instincts weren’t howling, but I felt like the world had gotten smaller as my eyes opened to this new day. Something had happened. I could feel it. Or is this feeling a prelude to something else?

I shook my head, dismissing the feeling. I had too much to worry about. Sensing the Eight souls burning in me. I smiled. All seven Demons had wished to lose their memories, but that did little to stop my assimilation of the information they held. In this minor realm within my soul… I was God. I could do anything.

All the information I receive once a soul is fused and enters my main Soul Flame ensures that no matter if a soul is destroyed completely, I would still retain all they ever knew.

Winds howling, I stared down at the northernmost area of the war. Ezra was being forced back. Despite my earlier assistance. Avenos was filled with millions, if not billions, of high-level monsters.

Studying the embers dancing like fireflies over the scarlet liquid, bathing the ground with an incalculable amount of bodies, I sighed.

This war was a losing battle even if I fought and killed the Prince and King… The other eight realms filled with more tormented souls were sure to appear. Sure my people will get training, but I can’t produce high-level people with a snap. People need time to grow. Time to evolve and develop techniques.

“With how we progress in a hundred years more, we’ll need a new wave of soldiers here. I’ll help them gain a few more inches of—”

“My Lord?” A call from the beyond echoed like a whisper into my soul, bringing a smile to my face. “I’ve set a meeting with Alzimar. It’ll be near the South of the Styx, where the Oblivion Gate used to be.”

Recalling something similar during my battle with Zantar, I nodded. ” I know the area. You know what to do, right?’

Feeling Drar bow from where he was, his words entered my soul once more, ” But of course, your Majesty.”

Opening a rift into the darkness, I sucked in a large breath to contain the onslaught of killing intent withering the stone around me. A little taken aback by the wave that came, I coldly pushed down this foreign feeling threatening to take me over.

‘…’

My footsteps became frozen for a second, but as I adjusted to the new souls who only knew death and despair, I stepped into the vortex of darkness. There was nothing joyful about these seven Elder Souls I captured. Nothing. I’ve seen torment before… Lived it. But these Seven were newcomers to Hell. Hero’s before they died. But the day they entered Hell, the joyous memories of their time when they were alive became stained.

Madness took them. They became utter demons broken by the torment of the Hells. Killed and resurrected over and over, they lived a tormented existence under the boot of Alzimar, who hated nothing more than Demons. Mindless filth, he often called them. Parasites whose only job was to be tormented.

Alzimar, like most devils, took great pleasure in breaking his toys. Going so far as to give one of my souls by the name of Seven a lavishing life the moment he entered the hells. For two full Dao cycles, Seven lived to the fullest. He fucked, drank, killed, and did all he couldn’t before in the Bed of Chaos. He fulfilled some of his darkest fantasies, even somehow birthing children.

But it was then Alzimar struck… I’ve no idea how he did it. But that fucker had an imagination that was sick. He killed Seven’s infant daughter before his eyes. Tearing her head like it were a doll and proceeded to stuff a potion down Seven throats mixed with the innocent soul of his daughter.

In hours Seven began to bellow in terrible anguish as his organs in the abdomen parted. Alzimar howled in waves of laughter as he watched Seven’s stomach grow large, with an imprint of his infant daughter on his stomach.

Seven could still hear his child’s scream and could even feel the sensation his daughter felt as Alzimar slowly tore her head off. Slow and manacle, just to watch Seven’s reaction. He then spoke some dreadful words as Seven’s torment began.

“Ever wondered what birthing a child feels like? You got two holes. I wonder where this one will come out of. Don’t disappoint; I’ve got a wager with Bune. I say the cock. There’s a lot riding on this, you know.”

It was utter Hell for Seven. He broke. And he broke again. Over and over till all the memories he held before were either stained or destroyed. The man became so broken he started to love the man who broke him, who took everything away. Alzimar, however, did not stop. He went after his wife in the Bed of Chaos, who he loved more than anything.

It was on that day… Seven became no more…. There was only a Demon. A ruthless killing machine that knew only one thing: To kill. He’d lost his original name, taking only a number, seven.

Entering a desolate forest with withered trees smelling of brimstone, I glanced down at a black and red flower, bleeding a scarlet glow. It was a common flower in Hell. Known as Hell Root: It was said each pedal on a Hell Root marks the number of broken souls within the Hells. This Flower feeds on torment. And is one of the main ingredients in many of the Nines for Alchemist.

Staring out at the field of Hell Root, both in and around the River Styx flowing into what appeared like the ruins of some gate, I approached.

“This is the river that flows into the underworld… to the domain of Hades.”