Chapter 222 - Curse of Morgatha ( Part 3)

Under the Demon Continent...

The Demon Citadel was quiet.

Peaceful.

No.

Silent.

Silence of those moments that came before something terrible would happen.

The silence that was felt in the held breath before scream, in the calm before the storm, in the silence before death.

It was pressing at the ancient stones like a live creature, thick, heavy and suffocating, saturated with the centuries of darkness.

Black flames burned along the walls of the huge council chamber.

Demon fire, cold and ravenous, casting violet light over the faces of the remaining Demon Generals.

Their shadows were dancing along the obsidian walls, and in places where their light was touching, the ancient runes carved there were twitching.

Six thrones surrounded a huge round ritual altar.

It was a nightmare-like construction - black stone disc that was radiating the dark energy and was covered with the signs carved by hands which weren’t belonging to people.

In the middle of the disc was a depression, empty and hungry.

One throne was empty.

The throne of the First Demon General.

Azrakiel.

Dead.

But nobody named him.

In the air of the chamber there were hanging five enormous black crystals.

Each of them was higher than a human and its surface was as smooth as a glass, filled with the swirling darkness.

They were like suspended hearts, beating by the same rhythm as heartbeats of the Demon Continent itself.

Inside each crystal... a human.

Five Legendary Divine Marks bearers.

Unconscious. Their bodies were hanging in the dark energy, arms extended, heads bowed. Dark magic chains bound them to the ritual altar below.

The first crystal contained a young man with the golden mark on his chest - the Divine Mark of Valor. His face was peaceful, but his hands were clenched into fists, as if even in unconsciousness he wasn’t able to give up.

The second crystal contained a woman with black hair. Blue mark was glowing on her shoulder - the Divine Mark of the Tidal Heart. Her lips were parted, and a tear froze on her cheek.

The third crystal contained a man with the red lines all over his body. The Divine Mark of Flame was blazing on his back, its energy being restrained by the crystal power.

The fourth crystal contained a silver-haired woman. Divine Mark of the Sky was gleaming on her forehead, glowing with the energy of wind and storms.

The fifth crystal contained a young man whose entire back was covered with the violet mark - the Divine Mark of the Mind.

Five Legendary Divine Marks.

Five keys.

Five sacrifices.

Draven was standing nearby.

Black Warlord’s huge arms were crossed over his chest, and his black armor was still wet with the blood from the battles. Satisfied smile was glittering in his eyes when looking at captured bearers.

He smiled. Terrible smile.

"The fifth sacrifice is secured."

Morgatha slowly turned toward him. Violet-black hair was falling on her back like waterfall of shadows, golden eyes were glowing in the violet light.

"The fifth?"

Draven nodded. "The last one was caught three hours ago."

He snapped his fingers. It sounded in the chamber like thunderclap.

A projection appeared above the ritual altar. It appeared as a window to distant battlefield.

Young warrior appeared inside the projection. Golden chains that were shining with dark energy were covering his body. Divine Mark was burning on his chest - Mark of the Mind.

His eyes were closed. Body was motionless.

Draven laughed. "He resisted."

His smile became even wider. "Quite impressive, actually."

Lokiar was sitting in the shadow. His silver mask was shining in the violet light, his form was flickering at the edges like smoke in the wind. His violet eyes were reflecting the projection.

"What happened?"

Draven shrugged. "I broke his army."

The projection was changing. Hundreds of warriors appeared there - knights in shiny armor, mages with raised staffs, archers with drawn bows. They were standing in the formation, with the determined faces, with the ready weapons.

Then darkness. Image disappeared.

Draven was laughing again. "He surrendered after that."

Morgatha was staring at five sacrifices.

"Five."

Her voice was calm. Measured. Voice of someone who waited for this moment centuries.

"Five Legendary Divine Marks."

She lifted her one hand. Long pale fingers with nails painted in black were moving in the air with surgeon precision.

Five black symbols appeared in the air, pulsing with dark energy.

"Valor."

One symbol was blazed with golden light.

"Tidal Heart."

Second symbol was shimmering with blue energy.

"Flame."

Third symbol was burning with red fire.

"Sky."

Fourth symbol was gleaming with silver light.

"Mind."

Fifth symbol was pulsing with violet energy.

The five symbols were becoming one. Lines of the dark energy were stretching between them, forming the massive magical circle above the ritual altar. Circle was rotating slowly, its symbols were shifting and rearranging like alive creatures.

Chamber was trembling. Dust was falling from the ceiling, and black flames along the walls were flickering.

Morgatha’s golden eyes were narrowing. "The ritual is progressing."

Draven was grinning. "So we’re almost done."

"No."

Morgatha was shaking her head. Serious expression was on her face - expression of someone who spent centuries researching forbidden arts.

"Not almost."

She was looking at the empty sixth and seventh positions in the ritual circle. There were two symbols without light, two empty spaces.

"Two remain."

The atmosphere was changing. The temperature was lowering, the air was becoming heavy.

Draven’s grin was vanishing. "The Queen."

Morgatha nodded. She pointed at one of the empty symbols with her finger.

"Lilia KingHeart."

The symbol immediately started glowing - soft golden light pulsing with authority.

"The Sovereign of Dominion."

She stopped for a while. "The sixth Legendary Divine Mark."

Draven’s eyes were burning with anticipation. His hand was going to his axe, and his fingers were tightening around the handle.

"And the seventh?"

Lokiar spoke. His voice was soft, but it echoed in the room as a shadowy whisper.

"Rudy Kiss."

All eyes were fixed upon him.

Lokiar leaned back in his throne. His silver mask glittered.

"The Phantom Thief."

His violet eyes glinted. "The reincarnation of Lisa KingHeart."

Draven frowned. "Really the sister of Leonis?"

Lokiar smiled. That was a thin, victorious smile.

"Not just genetically."

He lifted his fingers. "Her soul bears the same resonance of old times."

Another finger. "Her blood carries KingHeart powers."

Yet another. "And her soul is already awakened to the memories of the previous era."

Morgatha’s eyes sparkled. "This means that she will be a good fit for the ritual."

Lokiar nodded. "That’s right."

Draven laughed. That was an impatient and harsh sound.

"So we kidnap the Queen and the thief."

He glanced at Noctis. The Seventh Demon General sat on the highest throne, covered by the darkness.

"And what after?"

Noctis was silent.

Different from the others, he hardly ever moved. All of his body was covered with dark armor which absorbed the light around him. No face could be seen behind his helmet. Only his two crimson eyes, shining in the darkness like dying stars.

Finally, he spoke. His voice sounded cold – cold like the emptiness between the stars, cold like the darkness that existed before creation.

"No."

Draven frowned. "No?"

Noctis slowly raised his head. That movement was precise and mechanical.

"The ritual cannot be started."

Morgatha looked at him. Her expression was sharp.

"We have already gathered five Marks."

"That’s not enough."

Draven stepped towards the throne. His boots resounded on the stone floor.

"You said seven."

"We need seven."

Noctis’s voice remained calm and unmoved.

"But only seven Marks are not enough to destroy the Divine Seal."

Silence. The room filled with stillness.

Morgatha narrowed her eyes. "Tell me more."

Noctis looked at the altar. His crimson eyes followed the patterns of the ritual circle.

"The seal protecting Zuko wasn’t created by human power."

The crystals glowed stronger. Their light flashed in the rhythm of the captured Marks.

"It was created by the Gods."

The room trembled again. The black flames that burned on the walls flared up.

"And so..."

Noctis raised his hand. The black picture appeared above the altar, emerging from shadows and darkness.

An enormous sword. Ancient. Broken. Enveloped in the divine light that sparkled like the dying embers.

"...human sacrifices are not enough to destroy it."

Morgatha gazed at him. Her voice was barely audible.

"What is that?"

Noctis answered. "Divine Sword."

The room became silent.

Draven’s expression changed. His hand clenched the axe.

"A Divine Sword?"

Noctis nodded.

"The seal has pieces of Divine Sword energy."

Morgatha’s eyes narrowed. Her mind worked hard, trying to remember something from the ancient knowledge.

"So we need one."

"Yes."

Draven grinned again. His confidence came back.

"Then we should steal one."

Noctis looked at him. His crimson eyes remained unreadable.

"It’s not that easy."

Draven’s smile faded away. "How?"

Noctis continued. "The sword needs to be willingly resonating with the ritual."

Morgatha froze. Her face went pale.

"Voluntarily?"

"Yes."

Lokiar’s expression became serious. His shape solidified, losing its smoke-like quality.

"A forced Divine Sword will refuse the ritual."

Noctis nodded. "And if the sword refuses the ritual..."

The black picture above the altar cracked.

BOOM!

Shock wave passed through the room. The crystals rumbled and the black flames flickered wildly.

"...then the ritual will consume the bearer."

Draven’s eyes narrowed. "Then we need a Divine Sword that will agree with the ritual."

"Right."

Morgatha looked at the five symbols. Her voice was thoughtful.

"And the sword should be compatible with the seven Marks."

Noctis nodded. "Not just compatible."

His crimson eyes became colder.

"It needs to resonate with them."

Morgatha’s expression changed. "The Divine Swords choose their carriers."

"Yes."

"And they can’t be forced."

"Correct."

Lokiar suddenly laughed. It was a quiet laugh, almost amused.

All looked at him.

Lokiar’s violet eyes were glowing. His silver mask glittered.

"Then we know where to look."

Morgatha understood it first. Her golden eyes widened.

"Jennie."

Lokiar nodded. "Five Divine Swords."

The room fell into silence. The air was filled with meaning.

"Excalibur."

Golden picture appeared above the altar – a blade of the purest light, enveloped in the leather and bearing a gem that shone like the captured sun.

"Leviathan."

Blue picture appeared – a sword of the deep ocean, shimmering with the waves that moved even in the absence of the wind.

"Tempest."

Lightening flashed. Silver blade appeared, crackling with storm energies.

"Eclipse."

Darkness spread. Black sword appeared, absorbing the light around.

"Gram."

Red flames burst out. Black and red sword appeared, its surface pulsating with the restrained wrath.

Five swords. Five ancient powers. Five Divine Swords carried by one girl.

Lokiar’s smile widened. "The Markless One."

Draven slowly rose from the throne. His massive body emerged from the throne, casting shadow across the room.

"She has five?"

"Yes."

"Five Divine Swords..."

Draven’s eyes glittered. His hand clenched his axe until the knuckles became white.

"Then we don’t need to look for one."

Morgatha shook her head. Her expression was calculated.

"We still need the right one."

Lokiar looked at her. "Maybe."

He smiled. "But that’s not the point."

Morgatha narrowed her eyes. "What is?"

Lokiar’s expression became almost fascinated. His violet eyes followed the pictures of the five swords.

"All five have already resonated."

Silence

Morgatha’s expression changed. Her golden eyes opened wide.

"When?"

"During the fight in Seraiya."

The projection of Lokiar appeared over the altar. It showed Jennie, who was under the palace, her silvery hair was dancing in the wind, her golden eyes flashed with energy. Around her there floated five Legendary Divine Swords.

Golden. Blue. Silver. Black. Crimson.

Their powers joined together creating one enormous magical circle. The power was overwhelming—the pillar of light, reaching up to the sky.

Draven looked at it and muttered quietly.

"That..."

The projection showed the moment when the five swords released their power. It caused the collapse of the whole illusion network. The illusion reality broke apart.

Draven slowly made a fist. "They are already resonating."

Lokiar nodded. "Not completely."

He smiled. "But enough."

Morgatha stepped closer to the projection. Her eyes followed the lines of power, that united the five swords.

"That means..."

Lokiar finished her sentence. "They are capable of acting as one."

Noctis stayed silent. His crimson eyes shifted toward the projection of Jennie.

"Interesting."

Morgatha looked at him. "Would any of the five work?"

"No."

Noctis answered without any delay. His voice was full of authority.

"Why?" Morgatha frowned.

"Because the ritual needs a Divine Sword with a connection to the seal."

He pointed at the five images of the swords with his finger. His gaze fell upon the golden sword.

"Excalibur."

The golden sword became larger on the projection. The light from it filled the entire chamber.

"The Sword of Kings."

Noctis paused. His crimson eyes narrowed.

"That one has the strongest resonance with Leonis."

Morgatha’s eyes narrowed. "But Leonis is dead."

"No."

Noctis corrected her. His voice was ice.

"Leonis is reborn."

Silence.

The image of Jennie appeared under the sword. Her silvery hair, her golden eyes, her resolute look.

Noctis continued. "The sword doesn’t care which body contains the soul."

Morgatha understood him. Her voice was quiet.

"It recognizes him."

Noctis’s voice became colder. "It recognizes her."

Silence filled the chamber.

Draven laughed. It was an evil sound.

"So the Markless girl isn’t just carrying five Divine Swords."

He cracked his knuckles. The noise echoed through the chamber.

"She’s carrying the perfect key."

Lokiar smiled. "Exactly."

Morgatha looked at the projection of Jennie. Her expression was thoughtful.

"And she won’t give us one willingly."

Lokiar’s smile widened. "Then we make her."

"No."

Noctis immediately protested. "We can’t force the sword."

Lokiar stopped and thought for a moment. "The sword has to make a choice."

Morgatha slowly realized it. Her voice was quiet.

"Then the bearer has to offer it willingly."

Noctis nodded. "Or..."

He looked at the image of Lilia. The Queen was standing besides Jennie. Her golden hair caught the light, her sapphire eyes glowed with determination.

"...the sword has to believe in the necessity of the ritual."

Morgatha’s eyes widened. "Then the Queen..."

Noctis nodded. "Lilia is the key."

"How?" Draven was confused.

Noctis looked at Aurelia. The Blade of Light was hovering over the altar, its golden surface shone with divine power.

"The Blade of Light."

The projection changed. Aurelia was in the throne room, refusing Jennie’s hand, blasting her across the room.

"That sword has shown unusual behavior towards Jennie."

Yes.

Morgatha remembered. The rejection. The violent blast. The refusal.

"Yes."

She whispered. "It rejected her."

Noctis nodded. "Because it remembers."

"What does it remember?" Lokiar’s eyes narrowed.

Noctis didn’t answer right away. The silence was heavy with meaning.

Then he said: "Leonis."

The entire chamber became silent.

Morgatha looked at the five Legendary Divine Swords. Her voice was thoughtful.

"Then Aurelia could be the one, which resonates with the ritual."

"No."

Noctis shook his head. "The connection of Aurelia is too strong with Lilia."

Morgatha understood it. "And Lilia would never offer it willingly."

"Correct."

Draven smiled. "Then we take it."

Noctis looked at him. His crimson eyes were cold.

"You still don’t understand."

"What?" Draven frowned.

"The Divine Sword has to make a choice."

Draven’s expression darkened. "Then how are we going to get one?"

Noctis slowly stood. His movement was the movement of the predator leaving its den.

The entire chamber seemed to become smaller. The black flames along the walls burned higher, and the shadows deepened.

"We don’t take the sword."

He looked at the projection of Jennie. Her image flickered in the violet light.

"We make the sword to come to us."

Lokiar’s eyes widened. His silver mask gleamed.

Morgatha’s smile returned. "Using its connection to Jennie."

Noctis nodded. "And the connection between Jennie and Lilia."

Lokiar’s smile became almost predatory. "So if Lilia is threatened..."

Jennie’s sword might react.

Morgatha completed his thought. "If Jennie thinks that Lilia will die..."

Her eyes gleamed. "Her Divine Swords may resonate at their highest level."

Noctis nodded. "And at that moment..."

He looked at the ritual altar. The five crystals pulsed with dark energy.

"...we activate the seventh seal."

The five crystals started to pulse.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Five captured Legendary Divine Marks reacted. Their power rushed through the ritual circle, and the chamber trembled.

Far away... something answered. A faint golden pulse. Then another.

Noctis raised his head. "The ritual has sensed them."

Morgatha looked at the projection. Lilia. Rudy. Jennie. Six Divine Swords. Seven Marks.

Everything was beginning to fall into place.

Draven laughed. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"The Queen," Morgatha smiled.

"The Phantom Thief," Lokiar smiled.

Noctis looked at Jennie. His crimson eyes burned.

"And the five swords."

His voice became colder. "Prepare everything."

The black flames across the chamber suddenly turned crimson. The light changed, covering the walls with shades of blood.

"Because the next hunt..."

The projection of Jennie flickered. The five Divine Swords appeared behind her—Excalibur, Leviathan, Tempest, Eclipse, Gram.

"...will not be for a Legendary Divine Mark."

Noctis’s crimson eyes narrowed. His voice was a promise of destruction.

"It will be for a Divine Sword."