Doom: End Times (End Times: The Slayer Cometh) - DaneNagai (2024)

Chapter 1: The Slayer Cometh

Chapter Text

The Worlde

The Twin-Tailed Comet soared visibly over the sky. The Winds of Magic had changed. A disruption that would seal the fate of the world. Warp storms and an influx of the Hordes of Chaos have begun marching down south to the Worlde at the behest of the Dark Gods. The Southern population was in riots and hysteria was the norm before they were quelled by the highest authority. Mages all over scramble for answers while kings and generals muster up their armies to brace for the apocalypse. Unbeknownst to them, the Under-Empire were on the move, plotting and scheming their way as cataclysm draws near.

The End Times had come.

But they weren't the only ones in fear.

Far in the North, deep in the lands of the Chaos Wastes, the Dark Gods have felt a wave of disturbance. At first, they had dismissed it as an insignificant itch left unscratched. But the growing presence had begun creeping deep within the bowels of the Warp. This presence was oddly familiar, yet none could know certain of what it was.

The Realm of Change

Tzeentch - The Changer of Ways - became slightly erratic, having grown ever quiet as he looked through the many threads of Fate, though he hid it well enough to not alert the others. An unforeseen obstacle has brought itself into the fold, and for every vision he had seen, there was only death and ruination.

But not to the Worlde. But to Chaos.

For every plan he had conceived, the obstacle would only break through all of his countermeasures. For every step he pushed, the other would only be two steps ahead of him. This was impossible, for he had played the Game over and over, so much that he had taken careful steps to achieve his loose goals.

But not this time. For this was not planned in the Great Game.

But the Changer of Ways was undaunted. He had all of his servants seek out answers in the Material; to find the enigma of this Harbinger, and the solution to stop it. He kept his eyes on the threads, however, knowing that it may always appear before him.

The Realm of Decay

Nurgle - The Plague Lord - stirred in his cauldron, trying to shake off the nagging thoughts that plagued him. Despite humbly stewarding the natural decay in the Old World, he was becoming unnerved by the ever-increasing dread. His foul and festering gut had been bubbling and groaning as if to warn him of things to come. But why would he - the Lord of Decay - be worried? He was the embodiment of Death and Despair, so surely it was acceptable to feel the essence of despair... right?

He swirled into his putrid cauldron, looking upon the foul pool to see its reflection, to see the answers that forbode him. If it was what he had been warned, then he'll humbly accept it... hopefully.

The Realm of Pleasure

Slaanesh - the Dark Prince - laid in hir bed, grooming hir hair to perfection. But this was a distraction to the dark recesses that have been preoccupying at the back of hir mind. Hir consorts and slaves were there to please hir every whim. But they could not sway hir from hir thoughts. This was something else. It was an aching feeling that stirred hir... and She would have it.

She was not as fearful as She should be. It had become present lately and She yearned for it. Everything She desired, She would take it for hir own. The Worlde was always hir oyster. Shamefully, hir brothers would see it be destroyed for their own amusem*nt. She had protested at the idea, but none heed hir words. She was always the "weak one" among the gods, so why should they listen to Hir? She shook at the miserable thought.

Leaving hir bed - much to hir slaves' pleadings - Slaanesh walked towards her finest mirror. A large, opulent one it was. Tall enough to reach the roof of her home. She first admired her lovely form - Perfection as it always will be - before calling upon her powers to retrieve the answers she seeks. It would take some time to find it, but Slaanesh will always have what She desires...

The Realm of Blood

Khorne - The Blood God - sat upon his throne. His seat of skulls, ever-growing. And his rivers of blood, ever-flowing. War and Wrath ever-present around him, for they were his domain. The glory of battle it was he sought, for only the greatest of warriors were worthy of his attention. Yet he remained stoic for much of his time. Other times, he will throw into a rage should he ever be slighted. Yet, like all others, an ever-looming danger had cast its shadow upon the realms of Chaos.

And the first time since Valkia became his bride... he smiled. And laughed.

His laughter rang the halls of his fortress, much to the shock of his minions and underlings. They had never heard their master feel joy for a long time. It was truly an unforeseen event, and it meant something important would happen.

Khorne stood up from his throne and descended the mountain of skulls to the largest blood pool. There, he waited for the answer to come to him. Whatever it was, it will be worthy of his time.

Ulthuan

Teclis had been in his library for who knows how long. With the Twin-Tailed Comet soaring visibly among the stars, there were omens of forthcoming events that would transpire in the near future. News of Chaos rampaging their way down south had been spreading, and the High Loremaster himself searched through the books of the library. He had kept himself shut within to put all of his focus in searching for answers. His brother, Tyrion, had grown worried for his health and tried to make frequent visits for him. However, Teclis had occasionally sent messages from time to time to assuage his brother's fears. For now, though, he had taken it upon himself to seek answers.

Answers he would soon discover.

sigh* "If only there was a miracle placed in my hands, I would give all my possessions to charity." Teclis muttered to himself, laughing under his breath at his own deprecation.

As Teclis scoured through the library, one peculiar book had caught his eye. In all of his years that he had spent in that quiet little sanctuary, he had never noticed this book.

"Curious." Teclis muttered, narrowing his eye at the book. "Why am I seeing this book of all times?"

He soon picked it up and looked at the book before him. From its appearance, it had looked worn out. Over several millennia, he presumed. The cover was barely in proper condition for some many years, and the pages within had grown yellow; its edges slightly teared up. Yet what was interesting was the symbol at the centre. It was a marking of sorts that was completely unknown to any of the Loremaster's knowledge. But there was power within. Of that, he was certain.

Teclis' discovery was renewed with great interest. Seeking the knowledge within, he flipped through the pages and behold the stories. Inside were records of a lost and forgotten civilization. There were murals of ages past, but the texts were rather foreign and dead, but with a bit of concentration and magic, the Loremaster was able to translate the texts. What he discovered was far more a blessing. A race far ancient than even the Old World this once great race stood as the protectorate of the lesser realms. These people - the Argenta - were mighty and hardy whose culture revelled in war, not unlike the savages who worship Chaos. But their similarities only ended there. Beyond it, the Argenta stood guard for those under their protection. Their technology far greater than even the most skilled of dwarfs - with behemoths that could even stand toe to toe with their world's Titans - and were attuned to god-like beings only known as the Maykrs.

With their combined might, the Argenta became the most powerful civilization to exist beyond the stars. But like every empire from before, they soon found their greatest enemies. Ones that were just the same as the Old World had suffered.

Demons. They were different compared to Chaos in some ways based on their descriptions, but no less an existential threat. These invaders would attack the Argenta in an attempt to gain more ground in their demonic expansion. But the Argenta would push them back. It was a never-ending struggle for the Argenta, but they persevered in the face of damnation. Fighting hard and enduring the worse.

Until he showed up.

As Teclis continued reading through it, he noticed reoccurring themes. It wasn't obvious at first but it became apparent that the texts soon followed the attention of one man. Originally known as the Outlander - for he was found outside one of their citadels - the man would soon rise above his peers and become a legendary hero to all. He started as an animal, his mad ravings made evident just how far gone he was. Yet those ravings held truth, for they spoke of demons. The man eventually rose to fame as a gladiator of Argenta's coliseum, where he was beaten and bloodied but stood back up through sheer will alone. He was then knighted by the King of that time - Novik - and from then on, the man would bring victory after victory in their battle against the demons. His rage and hatred for such despicable abominations were so well documented that he been accused of being a demon by the people's Inquisition. However, his brutality against the demonic hordes disproved that theory. His legends spread so much, that the people revered him as a hero.

No longer was he named the Outlander, for the Argenta had given him a new name...

The Doom Slayer.

And upon flipping the page after, there did Teclis saw the mural that was the Doom Slayer. A knight shrouded in green-tinted armour, standing above the bodies of the demonic horde. In his hand, held a weapon Teclis recognized as a human "gun"; symbolized as a sword of vengeance wielded by the Slayer.

Afterwards, there came more and more passages of the Slayer's recorded feats. With one event detailing his battle against a titan. But then the stories soon culminated into betrayal. Both the Maykrs and their Priests, as well as a traitor among the warriors - the Night Sentinels - sought power and trapped the Sentinels into Hell; dooming them to an agonizing defeat. But despite the downfall and eventual collapse of the Argenta, the last testimonies of the Slayer remained unknown, having been recorded as the only known survivor; hinting at the possibilities that he was still fighting in his one-man crusade.

Teclis closed the book for one final time. The Loremaster contemplated at what he had just read. If he had been reading this when the world wasn't coming to an end, he probably would've either read it as a pastime or throw it in the trash. But the entries were written as historical. And the recorded accounts within were very much real in a way. How much of it was true and how much of it was false threw Teclis into a crisis of sorts. He would no doubt pass it off as rubbish; seeing it as a mere bedtime story for children. But he sensed some truth in the texts.

The Loremaster left the library and headed towards the balcony of his home. It was night by the time he finished. He took a deep breath to allow the breeze of the chill air entered his lungs.

"Of all the knowledge I seek, the one remaining answer that could stop this world from going mad may or may not be gone. And I am reading from what is presumably a fairytale by now."Teclis grumbly thought to himself."Fifty-fifty doesn't sound nearly as bad as it should be."

As Teclis recollected his thoughts, a knock from the library's door was enough to interrupt his thinking.

"Enter!" The doors open on Teclis' command. A guard had walked in and bowed respectfully.

"Loremaster." The guard started. "You have a visitor."

"If it's my brother, tell him that I'm well and I need no assistance with my work." Teclis grumbled.

"It is not Prince Tyrion, my lord." The guard replied. "In fact, the visitor did not specify who he was. Only that he requested to see you. Privately."

Teclis raised an eyebrow at the request. Now? At this time of hour? What on earth could it be?

"Very well, send him in." The guard bowed at Teclis' command and went off to retrieve the anonymous visitor. Moments later, the guard from before had returned with the visitor in tow. The visitor in question hid his features underneath a cloak. Teclis dismissed the guard and the door was soon closed off, leaving only the two remaining inside.

"I do hope you have something of importance. As you can see, I am currently preoccupied with matters concerning the peaceful times we live in." Teclis dryly said. It was met with a chuckle from the hooded figure.

"Heh. Always the jester, Teclis." The visitor replied. "Though, I highly doubt the Phoenix Court would take it well without umbrage. Especially when in the presence of your King."

The visitor soon pulled out his hood, revealing himself to be King Finubar, much to Teclis' surprise.

"My king!" Teclis started. "I did not know that yo-"

Finubar raised a hand to stop his apology.

"No need. The time for apologies is way past. Now's a time to discuss." Finubar replied. The Loremaster only remained silent, awaiting what came next.

"How may I assist you, my lord?" Finubar responded with a heavy sigh.

"I'm afraid the news that I bring would stir trouble within both the Phoenix Court and all of Ulthuan."

Finubar walked towards the balcony, taking in a view of the entire island. But as he walked, Teclis noticed him clutching his chest. He was in pain. But from what?

"My king, are you all right?" Teclis asked out of concern. He was met with only silence, only for Finubar to continue.

"The Twin-Tailed Comet soars visibly, as of late. And I fear that the world is in great turmoil. You've noticed the warp storms, yes? The change in the Winds? The arrival of Chaos coming to our doorstep?" Finubar continued. "The world is in grave danger as we speak... and we are doomed to a terrible fate."

"I'm well aware, King Finubar." Teclis responded. "I have grown tirelessly to find the answers. Many of which I'm aiming to use to prevent this occurrence."

"And none have been of use, I take it?" Finubar questioned. Teclis did not answer. Either he had none or he did but was merely following a fluke. The king did not need an answer.

"I had thought so..." Finubar said, dejectedly. "Which is why I have discovered two new solutions. Both of which that could change the tide in our favour."

Teclis looked in surprise, but held his tongue and listened intently.

"The first of which concerns a knight from ages past. One whose very existence shakes the very core of Chaos itself. The one called Doom Slayer."

Teclis could only blink in surprise.

"I know you've been reading about him earlier. I noticed the book on your table as soon as I entered. The etching on the cover. It was unmistakable, and no mere coincidence." Finubar noted, turning back to stare straight into Teclis' eyes without an ounce of emotion.

"H-How do you know all of this? What do you know of him?" Teclis asked.

"That he has fought countless battles against daemons. Stirred fear in the hearts of the abominations. And killed dark gods who would try to conquer the lesser races. There is not much I could add that the book hasn't already."

Finubar then took a seat on one of the chairs closest to him. His legs were giving out as Teclis deduced. The king was becoming weaker, but he continued.

"But he is one of our few salvations that will stop Chaos. And he must be brought here. To bring judgement."

"But how? The records stated that he has gone missing since the defeat of the Night Sentinels. He's more likely dead by now." Teclis' skepticism was only met with a hollowed laughter from his king.

"Heh. If only you knew..." Finubar responded, before taking a deep breath. "... I spoke with Asuryan. He had told me of the Doom Slayer's whereabouts and he is very much alive; continuing his crusade against the demons.

Teclis was stunned with silence. Asuryan? The Creator? And Finubar was able to speak to him? So many questions in his mind, but the sight of Finubar groaning in pain ceased all thoughts.

"My king, you are in pain. I shou-"

"No," Finubar commanded. "I must finish what needs to be said."

Teclis wanted to protest but remained silent.

"The Slayer is very much alive. Bring him to this world, so that he can save us all. Both with your magic and Lileath's."

Finubar soon closed his eyes. "Which brings us to our second solution... one that I ask must not be revealed to all of Ulthuan until the deed is done."

Finubar then looked straight into Teclis' eyes once more. This time, with regret in his eyes.

"Malekith must become the next Phoenix King."

Teclis could only stare in shock at those words. Years of warring with the Druchii - the dark counterpart of the Asur - had only brought suffering to them. Their ruler - Malekith, The Witch-King of Naggaroth - attempted to usurp the throne by poisoning Bel Shenaar. His attempts were soon averted as the Fires of the Phoenix burned him to an unrecognizable charred body. Even then, he still lives and continues to send an onslaught to Ulthuan's shores to claim his place as the Phoenix King. All while leaving a trail of bodies behind his waking power. The Loremaster could only protest in response.

"I object!" He exclaimed. "I will not allow Malekith usurp the title as Phoenix King as before! Do you have any idea how many grievances he has brought to the Asur?! So much blood has been spilled because of his thirst for power! His rule will no doubt issue a reign of terror for all of Ulthuan! I cannot allow this, even as you are my king! It is madness!"

Finubar could only stare at him in defeat.

"I know what I am asking is of grave consequences... but it is Asuryan's will that you must answer."

Teclis struggled to comprehend what was going in his king's mind. Finubar still explained without genuine sincerity.

"Asuryan told me his reasons. After Malekith's banishment, and with Chaos growing stronger than before, Asuryan's powers are waning. And the Witch-King is the closest we have to stop the apocalypse."

Finubar took a long breath again. He was struggling more so than before.

"Despite everything... that Malekith had done to us all... he is not beyond redemption... In his heart... lies the Fire of Asuryan... You must bring him to the Phoenix Court... and only then could he unite the Elves to face Chaos as one."

Finubar looked into Teclis' eyes with sincere regret.

"You should've been there... the voice in Asuryan... so much pain... and remorse... I believed he wanted to redeem us... somehow... and this was his final... conclusion..."

Finubar tried to stand up from his seat, only to collapse on one knee. Teclis was quick to rush to his king's aid.

"My king, you are ill! I must get you to the healers! They wil-"

"No... There's nothing you can do... to save me." Finubar answered.

"I am dying, Teclis... I used all of my strength... and will... to speak to Asuryan... and he has given me... enough time... to send the news to you... and to you only..."

Finubar's health was deteriorating faster than expected. He soon dropped to the floor.

"Promise me... that you'll complete... my final will... as your king... one final time."

Teclis held Finubar's hand as he slowly succumbed to death.

"Find... the Slayer... Bring... Malekith... as Phoenix... King..."

Finubar finished his last words. His grip on Teclis' hand-turned loose, falling to the ground. Finubar died in peace, entrusting Teclis to deliver his promise. Teclis' heart turned heavy at what he must now do. He closed his king's lifeless eyes; a smile of content visible on his face.

"Guards!" Teclis called out. Soon, many of the guardsmen had come pouring into the library. Their eyes now focused on the body they recognized as King Finubar the Seafarer.

"Take his body back to Eataine. Be careful with him." Teclis ordered. The guards did their best to delicately carry Finubar and bring him to his final resting place. The Loremaster kept one guardsman in to deliver another mission.

"Send word to all of Ulthuan of what transpired here. King Finubar is dead. Now go. I have other matters to attend to." The guardsman quickly nodded and made haste. Teclis remained in his studies, placing a hand on the table before him.

With Finubar dead, the coming days of the End Times drew near. Ulthuan will soon collapse as the Phoenix Court scramble to find a new king, and they will certainly not take well with the Witch-King in place.

But his king made his intentions clear: return Malekith to his rightful place.

Menu Theme - DOOM Eternal (OST) (1:47 - 2:46 on repeat for each section after.)

But first, another task must be completed. Teclis reached for the book of the Slayer. He walked straight to the centre of the library and began calling the goddess Lileath.

"Oh Lileath, thy Maiden, I beseech thee to aid me with one task! Hear the pleading of an Asur in need!" He called out. The room glowed an eerily blue colour. Books were flung around in a vortex-like whirl as the magic grew strong. Moments later, the visage of a female apparition stood before the Loremaster himself. Lileath had answered his call.

"I am the Goddess of Dreams and Wants, what do you need O noble Asur?"She asked.

"I have been given a task to which may be impossible, but I have given an oath to my late king to summon a hero from the past." Teclis raised the book as he answered. The expression on the goddess was that of surprise and astonishment just as she stared at the symbol on the book.

"So it is true..."Lileath muttered. "Asuryan has called for Hell's Bane. It will be done as granted. I will help you, Asur. Come, let us channel our powers so that it may be done."

Teclis smiled in gratitude. As instructed, his magic combined with hers. The blue glow grew ever brighter. The power of the magic grew stronger as they pierced the veil of the realms beyond. Using the book, they searched for the Slayer's mark outside the world and into another. Only then did they find him. His latest battle had him facing off a horrifically horned beast of gargantuan proportions. The Slayer stood victorious and returned to his fortress among the stars. Finally locating his coordinates, they set up a portal for him to enter.

The portal that homed in on the fortress only showed darkness. Thinking quick on his feet, Teclis called out.

"I call upon the one named Doom Slayer!" He called out. "I have sought for your legendary skills and I must ask you to enter! Quickly, I can only hold this portal for so long! We need your help! Please!"

He was met with only silence. As Teclis was about to lament his mistake, the portal glowed brighter. And within seconds, came out a man.

He walked out of the portal, with a weapon in hand. His armour, different from the mural, but unmistakable without a doubt. His stride, not of confidence, but one that has seen countless battles for many eons.

Teclis did not see a man that stood before him.

Only ademigod.

The Warp

The Immaterium was in... chaos.

The Unchained Predator had come to the Old World. And his Mark upon it will bring an end to all of Chaos.

Tzeentch screamed as the threads revealed the Fate that threatened Chaos as a whole. His realm began to collapse and shatter itself violently and his servants shift and twist in unimaginable pain, screaming with incoherency.

Nurgle, for the first time in his existence, cried in terror as his cauldron revealed the Slayer in all of his dreaded glory, before exploding within as the vision was too much for it to handle. His minions felt it and hid within his bosom for protection, as well as to comfort him.

Slaanesh backed away in total horror for what the mirror had shown. Hir consorts screamed in response and lashing out at anything in hysteria, just as the mirror shattered in itself as a response to the premonition. The Dark Prince was in shock hirself, and just before She knew it, blacked out.

Khorne, on the other hand, had the greatest laughter he had since forever, just as his throne of skulls collapsed on itself and his rivers blood boiled to impossible degrees. His servants trembled in fear, however, for they would meet their end at the hands of the Hellwalker himself. But the Blood God was pleased to find a worthy challenger return to him.

This will be a battle of the ages.

Chaos Wastes

The Warriors of Chaos were in complete disarray as they too received the visions from their Dark Gods. Those following one of the Gods were affected greatly by them as they each had different levels of insanity.

Followers of Tzeentch screaming incoherently, writhing and convulsing in imaginable pain. Some had even begun in the process of transforming into Chaos Spawn, while others with stronger wills could only laugh and rave madly as they saw the premonitions shared by their God.

Children of Nurgle could only cry uncontrollably as their Father spread his infectious visions with complete despair. Their tears being nothing but pustules from eyes that no longer exist. Some in fact were soiling themselves to death. Most of them would go so far as to break down into literal pieces for they no longer had the will to endure further. It made the saner Chaos Warriors start vomiting in disgust.

Servants of Slaanesh had the worse of them. From massive hysteria to attacking nearby warriors with random acts of violence - so much that even that Khornate berserkers wouldn't approve of - to even going comatose as some dropped to the ground beneath their feet.

Only the warriors of Khorne and Chaos Undivided were able to quell the disorder within their ranks, albeit barely. Khornates, especially, seemed uncharacteristically in control with their emotions as they began restraining their brethren from further chaos.

Standing above the chaotic sea of what was insanity, was the Everchosen. Archaon watched with a mixture of horror, frustration, and amusem*nt as he looked onto the crowd in utter disbelief. Even his lieutenants were affected, more or less. Sigvald was smashing the mirror on his shield uncontrollably, screaming that there is no longer perfection, only pain; the Glotkin were crying without end, their despair so foul that it was hard to be near them; Vilitch the Curseling began writhing around over his brother's shoulders, cursing and lashing out anything near him; Valkia's shield lashing out at her anyone within lashing distance much to the Gorequeen's shock; and many more.

Only Archaon, Vardek Crom, Wulfrik the Wanderer and Valkia the Bloody and a few others were the only ones who had any semblance of sanity.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Wulfrik exclaimed with shared disbelief and shock at the ensuing chaos below.

"You ask as if we know the answer to all of this!" Vardek Crom retorted. Soon after there was a yelling match. Then exchanged insults. And then a brawl ensued as they started balling fists at one another. Chaos Warriors soon held both men back. Valkia approached Archaon with concern.

"I sense my beloved has the answers to this." She suggested. Archaon turned to face her with stoicism.

"Then answers I shall find from him."

The Worlde

Those who were not part of the Chaos horde were just as affected by the shared madness. Cultists began revealing themselves within human societies as they started by either screaming their minds out, attacking bystanders or just commit suicide in public. Inquisitions and other authorities quickly started city-wide sweeps of this phenomenon; detaining and executing heretics. It was both a blessing and a curse as they were finally given an easier time taking out heresy but were quickly spreading out thin while receiving more paperwork to deal with.

In the dark forests of Drakwald, the Beastmen were more disorganized than before, with many of them killing one another with such madness that their screaming and braying could be heard all over the nearby isolated villages, Athel Loren, and Carroburg. It unnerved many that they all began securing defences around the territories.

From the cold lands of Naggaroth, members of the Cult of Pleasure were going catatonic and dropping like mayflies everywhere. Some convulsing and foaming from the mouths, and few growing mutations from their bodies. Morathi - the Hag Queen - was affected but managed well enough to investigate the problem that transpired. Still, it greatly disoriented her throughout the day. Malus Darkblade, however, lost control of Tz'arkan as it started screaming and begging to protect them from the Doom Slayer.

However, not every race saw it as an omen of death. Others saw great blessings in this new arrival.

In Averlorn, Alarielle - the Everqueen - is awoken from her rest and finds herself at a loss of breath as the flow of magic within her burst out and spread through her forests. Taken by surprise, Alarielle was eager to learn the catalyst of it. Such an event would provide a far greater impact on the world.

In Athel Loren - where the Oak of Ages resides in harmony with the natural wonders of its home - Ariel - Queen of its Forests - is struck by wonder and awe as a surge of magic flourished in and out of her home. The Asrai looked on in shock by the sudden changes in her forest. Already, the beautiful greenery exploded with vibrancy and colour. Not far from the Oak, Durthu - one of the last Elder Treemen - sensed it as well. A new season has erupted. A season of rebirth had commenced.

Within the Empire's Vault, the Grand Theologist hears the call of the God-King and is greeted with visions of a man who will one day destroy the horrors of Chaos and its twisted servants with a fury so righteous that even the heavens tremble in its waking destruction. Volkmar made his way out of the vault with fervour and faith in heart, for the day of reckoning had come, and the world will be liberated of the Dark Gods.

From Bretonnia, the Fay Enchantress senses the arrival of a knight of great power. Wearing colours similar to that of the Green Knight himself but his pursuit extended far beyond the realm of the Lady, where Chaos shall meet its end. Appearing at her side, the Green Knight himself stood vigilant, yet all aware of the knight's presence. Destiny made manifest

From the Worlds Edge Mountains, the White Dwarf was stirred from his stupor; the whisper of the winds tell of the greatest grudge - once thought to be nigh-impossible to settle - shall be erased by a not a dwarfen Slayer, but by a human Slayer. The dwarf stroked his beard with great interest and rejoice, but that time will come when Fate has been dictated. For now, the cries of his many brothers were heard. And he will make certain that the dwarfs will see the light of day to settle another grudge.

In the tropical jungles of Lustria, the wise Slaan oversee the Great Plans of the Old Ones, and what they had seen was unexpected. The Doom Slayer's entrance to their world had caused a massive shift in the balance. And much to the Slaan's relief, their fortunes had been in their favour. With a single thought, the Slaan began to set the motions of the fate of the world. And all will go accordingly as written by the Old Ones.

In the dark realms of Sylvania, the Necrarchs were greatly disturbed by the presence of an unknowable force. His arrival will bring forth uncertain doom to the vampires. Yet, the prophesized one would also bring an end to their curse left by the Great Necromancer; bringing the vampires to walk under the sun once more. Other bloodlines, however, knew of it and seek the discovery of this new legend. From the Queen of Lahmia to the Von Carsteins to the first Blood Dragon, the Counts will stop at nothing to get ahold of the prophesized one. Whether he will save them... or destroy them, Fate will decide.

In the deadlands of Nehekera, the greatest of the Tomb Kings - alongside his vassals and subjects - sensed a forthcoming omen. A sign of great change had come to his great exodus. And for the first time in his long lifespan, ever so watchful of his great kingdom, he only felt one thing. The one emotion that was ever so alien to his unlife.

Humility.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Badlands, an orc shaman receives a vision from his twin gods, that the greatest WAAAAAAGH! the world has ever known will not be from one of their own, but that of a human in their colours. The shaman, with newfound purpose, sets off to find prophecized warboss. For there will be more fighting to be had.

And finally - within the Skaven Under-Empire - the Council of Thirteen schemed and plotted as the world above continued to diminish on itself. Through their spies, they had received news of Chaos going through a mass-panic with unprecedented change. This pleased them, for the Skaven could finally show themselves as the true master race of the Old World. However, their gleefulness soon turned into fear for the news of another threat had emerged. The one called the Doom Slayer. Soon, they began plotting and scheming more. This time on how to defeat the Doom Slayer.

Gods of the Worlde

Outside the realm of mortals - far away from the realm of Chaos - the Gods of both the Elder and Lesser races gathered and watched with great interests as the Champion of Humanity entered this world by the Loremaster himself. With entirely different reasons, of course.

Both the Cadai and the Cytharai were pleased to see him for he would protect their children from Chaos itself. The Gods of Man were just as well, if not, greatly so for he shared the same fondness for Mankind. The Dwarfen Pantheon, meanwhile, approved of his grudge against Chaos for what it was just as he did with the Legions of Hell. The orc twins - Gork and Mork - became overly eager at the thought of the greatest fight for their people will be from a human. And last but not least - laying in the shadows - was the Horned Rat, who coveted the power of the Four but wanted to be rid of the Slayer, for he would disrupt his plans for true godhood.

But they all shared a common goal.

No longer will there be the laughter of thirsting gods.

Only theirscreams.

Chapter 2: Harbinger's Arrival

Chapter Text

Doom Fortress, moments before arrival.

The Doom Slayer had defeated the Icon of Sin mere moments ago. He had returned to his fortress to settle down after the long fight. If only for a bit.

The ARC Broadcast was on and became background noise as the Slayer went to his recreational room, but the Slayer heard enough to take in from the report.

With the Icon of Sin disposed of, Hell's forces had withdrawn for now. The Slayer felt a tiny bit of relief wash over him for his work. But he still had work to do. Demons weren't going to kill themselves while he was around.

"I've scanned the whole planet and demon activity has grown silent for awhile now. This will give you some time off. I'll keep an eye out on anything that interests you."Hayden suggested. Not that the Slayer needed to be reminded. He sighed in lament of having to leave VEGA back in Urdak in order to return to Earth. Now his only companion in the fortress was the one responsible for this whole mess.

Dr. Samuel Hayden. Former head of the UAC and now leader of the ARC Resistance. Despite his willingness to aid him and fight off the demons, the Slayer hold him in contempt for his actions back on Mars. The Argent energy, the inhuman experiments, the cult led by Olivia Pierce; all of it was on his hands.

However, his aid and support made him tolerate Hayden's presence to a degree. Somewhat.

Doom Slayer walked towards the recreational room and placed the final piece of his collectibles. An Icon of Sin figurine that dwarfed all the other figurines to the point it took up two shelves to place it among them. He was damn proud of his achievement and admired them all.

But before he could settle down, the lights all over the fortress began flickering uncontrollably.

"You might want to get to the main deck. It seems we have uninvited guests."Hayden alerted. Back on his feet, Slayer hurried torwards the teleporter. All the while grabbing plenty of ammunition before heading out.

Not a few moments in, the teleporter was acting haywire. Hayden had no idea what was going on even as he attempted to override the controls. Doom Slayer summoned his super shotgun and began reloading. He awaited for his threat to come.

What he didn't expect was a voice from the other side.

"I call upon the one named Doom Slayer!" It called out. "I have sought for your legendary skills and I must ask you to enter! Quickly, I can only hold this portal so long! We need your help! Please!"

Lowering his gun in response, Hayden quickly jumped with preparations.

"The destination is far from where we are. Much farther."Hayden remarked."I'll setup a transfer of the fortress to our new coordinates. It'll take awhile to get there, but in the meantime, let's not make our host wait, shall we?

Doom Slayer needed no response. He walked towards the portal with a clear mind.

It was another day for the Slayer.

White Tower of Hoeth, Ulthuan, moments before arrival.

By the time Tyrion arrived to the White Tower, it was night. Before then, he had sent several messages to make sure Teclis was alright. Most of the time, it was always his famous sharp-tongued responses that was plainly written on his messages. However, he had grown awfully quiet as of late, and it worried the prince. For all his butting heads with Teclis, Tyrion still cared enough for him to visit even if he had several guards looking after him in his tower.

Behind Tyrion were a retinue of eight of the best warriors Ulthuan had bolstered. While they were not needed as the prince was fully capable of protecting himself, it was still mandatory to at least have a couple of guards following him. Regardless, Tyrion handpicked the best of the best in case he was in a bit of trouble.

Which was never.

His stopped his horse as they arrived near the door. The retinue followed suit as well. However, as they did, the doors to the White Tower opened to reveal several guardsmen carrying the body down the stairs. Tyrion dropped whatever he did and rushed towards them. The guards noticed the audible footsteps approached them and were shocked to see the Prince standing before them with anger and fear on his face.

"What happened here?!" Tyrion demanded. The guards had little time to explain before he shoved one of them aside and pulled the blanket. Horror was the feeling when he and his guards saw the face of King Finubar the Seafarer. Dead outside of the White Tower of Hoeth.

Tyrion's feared for what had happened. Had his brother killed his king? If so? Why would he commit a heinous crime. Enraged at the sight of his dead king, the prince looked straight intp the eyes of every single one of Teclis' guards.

"Where is my brother?! He will answer for this!" He demanded. Every guard winced as he questioned them, all while quivering beneath their armor. However, he was soon interrupted as a light glowed bright outside if the tower for everyone from the ground to witness. Tyrion's expression changed from anger to worry as he had realized what the light could be.

"Teclis..." Tyrion looked to his own guards to take command.

"You four." He ordered one half of the guards. "Keep watch on these guards while I'm gone. The rest follow me."

All guardsmen took initiative and followed orders. Tyrion went straight towards the doors and entered.

"Pray that you are innocent, brother..."

Present

Teclis looked on in awe as he stared at the "guest" standing before him.

The Doom Slayer. In the flesh.

While Teclis had seen many marvels come and go, to see a legend come out of the books is a feat on itself.

The Loremaster bowed in honor of the Slayer's arrival.

"Welcome, Great Slayer!" Teclis greeted. "I am Teclis, High Loremaster of Hoeth and Warden of the White Tower. And it is an honor to make your presence."

The Slayer could only stare at him in silence, leaving Teclis a little unnerved at the silent treatment. But he remained polite as possible. Clearing his throat, he spoke up.

"I... understand that I may have interrupted your recent victory. But I can assure you that I will make your time worthwhile." Teclis continued. Again, he was given the silent treatment. By this point, he had taken a good observation of the Slayer.

He stood quite tall as the Loremaster had expected; being around the height of a regular Norscan. Which is still pretty big. His armor was extraordinarily unique. It was unlike anything the Loremaster had seen. Such intricated designs could make a dwarf shed tears for its beautiful patterns. The colour of his armor had an earthly green to it with mix of copper and brown thrown in. Yet, it was close to the mural's depictions of him. His biceps were plainly visible as if to scream "I got balls and you don't because I took them and made mine bigger". Still, they are definite proof of that.

Now that Teclis thought about, the Slayer wouldn't look out of place in an army full of Norscans. Add a couple of spikes and horns, and he would fit right in with the Warriors of Chaos.

In his hand was a weapon that Teclis recognised as by far the most intimidating thing that the Old World has seen. It had the appearance of what the humans and dwarves had in their armies known as a gun. He had seen several of them during his travels, yet none of them had double barrels instead of a single barrel, and it was by far more advance than either of the races' craftsmanships. On closer inspection, Teclis could also see a blade-like attachment potruding at the bottom of the barrels, which he deduced as some sort of bayonet to stab opponents upclose.

The one unique thing that interested Teclis the most was the Slayer's helmet. His visor showed his face quite a bit, if a little dark. Yet, what was interesting was that it had a glass-like protection over it. Of course, appearances can be deceiving and he would like to ask about it.

Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps ruined the chances as the doors to the library behind him soon opened. And the first to enter was his brother - Tyrion - followed by a group of guardsman.

"Teclis! You better have a goo-" Tyrion stopped mid-sentence as he saw the Slayer standing from where he arrived by Teclis.

"INTRUDER!" His brother instinctively pulled out his sword, turning ablaze, along with the guardsmen who did the same. Two archers readied their bows, while a pikeman and a man with a sword and shield took stances and formed around the prince. Meanwhile, the Slayer reacted by raising his gun in one hand with zero need to defend himself out of confidence. Teclis knew where this was leading to and immediately stood in the way of both parties.

"Stop!" He ordered. "As Warden of the White Tower, I demand you all to sheathe your weapons! I will not have blood be spilled on these grounds!"

The look on Tyrion's face was that of confusion, but went back to being serious again.

"Do not listen to him! Not until he gives his reasons!" He ordered. Teclis was a bit relieved to hear his brother coming to his senses. But he needed to act quick.

"I assure you the man behind me was allowed passage! Thus he is a guest in my home!" He answered. Tyrion still kept his emotions hidden behind a grim scowl; not ready to drop his weapon just yet.

"Then explain as to why King Finubar of Eataine was found dead outside of your home, Teclis." Tyrion demanded. This was admittedly difficult to explain to him without looking like Chaos-supporter.

"Finubar came to the White Tower with the intention of delivering tasks to me. None of the guards outside had known that it was him when he arrived. He did not want anyone to know his identity lest he alerted all of Ulthuan. He needed this to be private. It was one of utmost importance."

"Then what was it? Speak before I have both of you arrested."

"I highly advised against arresting the Slayer. For the sake of both you, your guards, and our gracious host."

Everyone in the room were taken aback by the booming voice that echoed from the Slayer. Yet Teclis had noticed that he had spoken in third person. As if he were a seperate entity.

"You... talk? I had mistaken you for a mute."

"Oh, he is. Lost his voice a long time ago. I am merely the mouth piece of the man you're speaking to."The voice replied, much to Teclis' shock. There was another person inside this man? Or was he possessed by this voice?

"Then who is it that I'm speaking to?" Teclis asked.

"I am Dr. Samuel Hayden. Former head of the United Aerospace Corporation and Leader of the Armored Response Coalition. But for now, I am merely a voice within his armor."Teclis had no idea who this "Hayden" was speaking about but they definitely sounded important to consider. However, his brother ruined it by opening his mouth again.

"A possessed armor? Then that makes you either an undead or one of the servants of Chaos! Which means I am within dead rights to execute you on charges of possessing a cursed relic, for serving the Dark Gods, and for murdering our king!" Tyrion declared. The Hayden spirit sounded rather annoyed when he replied.

"I am neither undead nor do I know what this "Chaos" you speak of. And we had no idea that your king had died. And quite frankly, what 'Tech-less' speaks of is the truth. In any case, it would be wise of you and your men to drop your weapons before my companion pulls the trigger."

From what Teclis could see, Tyrion was infuriated at the offended remark.

"Your dare threaten me? A prince with four of the best warriors handpicked in all of Ulthuan?!"

"Coming from the same man who's brought a sword to a gunfight. And I hate to disappoint your archers but those arrows will do nothing against his armor. That is if you actually do hit him..."Hayden goaded. This argument was going nowhere, Teclis thought, so he spoke once more.

"Tyrion - for the love of Isha - will you send your guards away so that we may speak privately? We both know that you're more than capable of defending yourself than be pampered by a bunch of useless halfwits whose real purpose is to simply put up the 'guardsmen' act." Teclis then looked back at the Slayer, still pointing his gun at the guards.

"As for you, Hayden, I would see that you cease your insults against the prince for everyone's best interests. And that includes you, Slayer. So please, lower your weapons.

Tyrion struggled to keep his temper in check but ultimately let out a groan, before sheathing his sword into its scabbard. He then looked back to his guards.

"Stand down, men. Wait outside the door until further notice." He ordered. All of them wanted to protest but knew it was not worth the risk to not to speak against their prince. They had sheathed their weapons and left the room. Likewise, Doom Slayer had lowered his gun and soon magically disappeared from his hand. As soon as the doors were closed, Tyrion exploded in anger at his brother's most recent incident.

"Two weeks... TWO WEEKS! YOU HAVEN'T RESPONDED TO ANY OF MY MESSAGES DURING THOSE TWO WEEKS! AND HERE I FIND YOU WITH OUR KING DEAD DOWNSTAIRS WHILE YOU ARE UP HERE PARLEYING WITH THIS... DAEMON!"

Teclis could only wave his hand off as he scoffed at another of his brother's worries.

"Oh come now, that's barely a signicant time frame. You know I'm always busy up here in my tower. Besides he is the very reason why King Finubar gave me such important tasks."

"And what were those tasks, I wonder?" Tyrion dryly asked, barely hiding his outrage at him.

"For one, to find this knight known as the Doom Slayer, as you can plainly see." Teclis raised a thumb and pointed back to the Slayer as he answered. "The other, to bring back Malekith to stand trial for his actions."

Tyrion looked at his brother with the most flabbergasted expression Teclis had ever seen in his life. Especially in regards to the second.

"Those? Those are the tasks that our king had given you?" Tyrion questioned.

"One of them worked, so yes." Teclis quipped. Much to his brother's groaning. Hayden, it seems, decided to jump in on the conversation.

"If I may ask, Teclis, who is this man? And what is the relationship do you have with him? If you don't mind filling us in."Hayden asked.

"Ah, forgive us for bringing you in this family drama." Teclis started. "This is Prince Tyrion. Heir of Aenarion, Dragon of Cothique, Champion of the Everqueen, Defender of Ulthuan... and my brother."

Teclis could hear his brother groaning in annoyance about the last bit but remained silent. Hayden, on the other hand, was far more cordial.

"Greetings, Prince Tyrion. I deeply apologize for our unintended arrival. We were unaware of your deceased king downstairs. And for that, our deepest condolences."

While a sincere gesture on Hayden's part, Doom Slayer just stared at the two Asur with complete apathy. Still, a simple nod was all they got. Much to Tyrion's chagrin.

"I thank you. But on to business." Teclis picked up a chair that had been overturned by the summoning and sat on it. "Before I was so pointlessly interrupted, I had summoned you here for the very task of eliminating an all-consuming threat that is pushing throughout the realms at this very moment. Chaos."

"And what is 'Chaos' that you speak of? Your brother here accused us of serving them as a cursed relic."Hayden remarked.

"The same type of threat that you've been fighting on your world. Demons." Teclis mentioned. Just the mere mention of them was enough to cause the Slayer to clench his fists, as the sorcerer had noticed.

"I believe you have our attention."

Teclis smiled in relief and soon continued.

"Before you had arrived, King Finubar had come to my tower with two tasks. As mentioned before; the first was you, and the second was to bring Malekith to the Phoenix Court to be tried. As you can see, the first was a complete success."

"There seems to be a 'but' in this, isn't there?"Hayden deduced. Which was not entirely inaccurate.

"I am afraid that is correct." Teclis reluctantly agreed. "The second task is far from simple. For you see, Malekith is-

"Malekith is a MONSTER!" Tyrion interrupted in an outburst. "He is a slaver, a tyrant, and a murderer! For thousands of years, he is attacked and raided the shores of Ulthuan along with other lands just to reclaim his place as Phoenix King! He rules the land of Naggaroth with an iron fist! Along with his wretched mother, Morathi!"

Tyrion paused until his brother had calmed down.

"What my brother speaks true. Malekith is a powerful druchii. One who combines both magic and ferocity by tenfold. He is not someone we could bring in, peacefully. He will no doubt fight with every ounce of fire in him." Teclis explained only to see Doom Slayer tilt his head in confusion.

"You'll have to excuse him, but we're not quite familiar with these names and terms you throw at us. Keep it to a minimum."Hayden clarified.

"Ah, I nearly forgot that you are not of this world. You are in Ulthuan, home of the Asur - or High Elves in the human tongue - and the Druchii - the Dark Elves - live in Naggaroth; north of where we are. To simply put, we are a divided people with differing philosophies." Teclis explained in the shortest way he could describe.

"Which means you need him to bring this... 'witch-king' back here, correct?"

"In a way, yes." Teclis replied. "But he needs to be alive so that he could be given trial. Killing him would only hasten the End Times. I ask yo- no, Ibegyou to bring him alive for the sake of our king's final wishes."

Teclis' pleas were met with only silence again. However, he soon noticed that the Slayer was doing it not of apathy, but studying his character. As if truly judging his soul and motivation. Moments passed, and the Slayer deemed fit to answer.

A respectful nod was all he needed. Teclis sighed in relief.

"He will agree to your terms."Hayden answered. Teclis was content with it, while Tyrion looked stunned.

"You can't be serious..." Tyrion all but said in complete disbelief. "Did you not listen to a word of what we just said?! Malekith is a powerful enemy! And you think you can just drag the Witch-King here without even considering the dangers of heading straight into the Land of Chill?! One does not simply walk into Naggaroth! it is the home to the most vicious and sad*stic of our kind! Murderers, rapists, slavers and many more of the worst scum you can possibly imagine! You'll be facing an entire continent even if you bring an army! You are butONEman against them!"

"Somehow, I doubt that'll be enough to convince him to reconsider."Hayden dryly responded. It was thhe same dryness that Teclis was known for. And much like Teclis', it had the same effect - if not - more amplified to Tyrion's outrage. Before Tyrion could retort, Teclis decided it was time to end this tirade. He stood back up and stood in between the two.

"Brother, please, there's no need to further escalations than it already has." Teclis reasoned. He sighed in defeat. "What transpired here was unfortunate, I know that. And I will take full responsibility and see that this has been resolved. All I'm asking of you is to have faith in me, once more. Both for Finubar and all of Ulthuan."

Tyrion looked conflicted as always whenever his brother became the voice of reason. Through and through, Teclis always broke though him to see the good they could bring to the world. Yet, this time, he may not be so lucky.

Who was he kidding? It worked as always.

Tyrion grumbled, but agreed no less.

"If what Finubar had given to you is true... then I will allow it. But I can't exactly defend... 'him' and his spirit when they're brought to the Court!" Tyrion responded.

"Then I shall stand by for him as his defendant." Teclis calmly replied.

"Do what you will. But the guards will watch him under lock and key, am I clear?"

"I understand." Teclis answered. Tyrion departed soon after. His voice ringing outside the doors as he taken orders. Teclis turned back to the Slayer, who waited patiently throughout the heated argument.

"I am terribly sorry that you had to witness all of this. Your arrival has been very mis-timed. And I cannot apologize enough for the troubles I heaped on you. But you are welcomed in Ulthuan, in spite of what transpired. I will have you located to a housing where you can rest. However, you will be closely supervised by my brother and his guards for the duration of his stay." Teclis explained in detail.

"Thank you, Teclis. It was a pleasure doing business with you. It is not the first time he was treated with hostility. Yet I feel that we hold responsible for killing your king. We were not aware he was even here when we arrived."Hayden lamented. Teclis nodded in gratitude.

"I thank you for your gesture, but there's no need for it. King Finubar believed that the Slayer holds the key to saving our world. Doing so will alleviate the burden."

Slayer silently nodded. Teclis gestured the both of them to follow him back downstairs.

"Shall we?" Doom Slayer needn't respond. Only walked when he did.

"I have a feeling that we will get along just fine."

Later in Eataine...

Tyrion was livid with Teclis' recent disaster.

Not only did he had to break the news of his long-time friend's passing to both the Phoenix Court and the Everqueen, his brother was now playing host to that savage and his spirit!

The thought of Teclis consorting with the beast made his blood boil.

Did he honestly believe that his "guest" could seriously bring back Malekith in one piece? If it was his head, Tyrion would doubt less, but alive? Not a chance that'll ever happen!

But here he was! Riding with the rest of his entourage of guards with his brother riding beside him. The body of Finubar was carried in a cart hidden with Teclis' magic, disguised as a wagon full of supplies. But that did not sway his worries.

The spirit within the stranger was exchanging his foul words to his brother in public. Without shame!

The audacity!

He knew Teclis can be curious of the outside world, but this? This was an affront to Ulthuan! Asuryan was damning his soul by now for this sacrilege! He just knows it!

It was fortunate that he had enough guards to keep an eye on the stranger. Yet he probably wished he brought more. Taking a glance, he could sense the stranger was more than capable of taking all eight at once. Even the guards were growing tense as the void in his helmet revealed eyes that were in a perpetual state of anger. One snap would've been enough to break their resolve despite years of discipline instilled in them.

How lucky was it that Teclis had summoned a portal to shorten their travel. They were in Eataine as of now, and it was rather depressing to know that it won't be the same with Finubar out of the picture. It was still night as usual, which Tyrion was thankful for since none of the citizens were awake at this hour. Yet, even with the illusion on, had it been daytime, the crowd would be in riot and the Court would be at each other's throats on who would become the next king.

He expected Teclis to do better than this. Yet, time and time, fate has told him that his brother would always be right in the darkest hours. But for how long could he keep this up? Explaining to the Court that Finubar died in Teclis' tower only to have this hulking behemoth appear right after would've brought him under massive scrutiny.

Whatever tricks his brother had, he better use them all.

Shifting his thoughts, he looked to the scenery around him. They had just passed several vineyards and were about to set foot in Lothern. The sight of its gates were one of many marvels that Ulthuan had been known for. And that was merely scratching the surface. Inside was perhaps the most bustling city that the Island had ever boasted. Many of its dwellers were comprised of not just Asur, but also humans and dwarfs. It's placement near the waters made it a mercantile cosmopolitan; where trade and commercial goods were the norm, and many facets of life can co-exist without fear and prejudice. Tyrion was never one to show much care for the latter two races - showing his preference towards fellow Asur - he respected Finubar's policies and efforts to repair and improve relations with the outside world.

Something that Eataine must live without. And with his friend long passed from this world, he would soon have to take up the mantle as Eataine's ruler. Along with maintaining the relations that he once looked down upon.

Arriving at the gates, the guards overlooking the passage recognised their liege and soon opened the gates for him and his company.

Home, sweet home.

Lothern

The City Gates - The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim OST

Doom Slayer was never much into the architecture in most cities. But the city he had entered made him appreciate the beauty of the structures.

Despite being night by now, where most folks were asleep, the city of Lothern had its charm.

Towers that reached the skies, cobblestone roads leading to different various places, and a port by the sea that showed several merchant ships moored nearby, and a hundred shops or more where trade could be made.

It reminded him of Argent D'Nur, or perhaps a city on Earth. From a time before Hell's invasion. How regretful it was to know that this will be just one of many ready to be besieged by a malevolent force.

The company stopped as they arrived at their destination. A parliament building made from what was presumably white marble. While beautiful to the truly curious, in the eyes of the Slayer, it was an eye sore. There was not much he can take into detail, save for the architecture resembling that of Gothic Revival-style, and its flags that had the emblems of a blue shield with a red gem at the centre over a white background.

They arrived at the stables and mounted off of their horses. Doom Slayer patted the horse gently to thank it. It had gotten tense when he rode on it but he hoped the pats were enough to calm it. The illusion spell soon dissipated and the guards quickly but carefully carried Finubar's body from unseen eyes. They entered the building, and Tyrion announced his intentions.

"There's a mortuary inside. We'll have to place him there until dawn. Then we will hold a funeral and the Court will answer to it. Not a word gets out of here. If I find out one of you spilled out about this, you can expect a flogging and leave in disgrace without pay! Am I clear?" Tyrion stated. Every guard nodded out of fear and did their duties to avoid the prince's wrath. Doom Slayer watched with amusem*nt as they made careful steps as they carried the King back further in. He soon brought his attention to both brothers.

"While they are gone, I will see to it that you are given shelter for the time being." Teclis suggested. Tyrion could only sneer.

"Tsk! You still treat him like he's a noble. Ought to just throw him in a cell and be done with it."

"We appreciate the concerns you have, Prince Tyrion."Hayden replied."But your brother means well."

"Don't even think of poisoning me with your words, spirit!" Tyrion retorted. He left the two in anger, leaving Teclis to sigh in disappointment. Leaving out of earshot, Hayden spoke much to the Slayer's annoyance.

"Family drama can be quite a burden at times. Believe me, I have seen my fair share of it."

"Aye, but he means well. Always there for me when I was in a bit of rut. Whenever I fell down, he always picked me back up again. But I have placed too much on his shoulders, and the coming days will see to that." Teclis reflected on. He then gestured the two to follow him.

"If you'll follow me." Doom Slayer walked alongside him. The two exited the parliament and walked through the many districts that populated Lothern. Behind the two were a couple of guards currently tailing them.

"My brother's men have been instructed to keep an eye on you, Slayer. I hope there's no hard feelings between us." Doom Slayer shaked his head in response.

"Your brother has every right to do so."Hayden agreed."We are strangers in this world. Can't convince him to change his mind, otherwise."

"Of that, I'm well-aware." Teclis replied. They continued for another ten minutes before they arrived at what was presumably a luxurious inn. Voices were heard from within, the sounds of boisterous laughter and old tales of nostalgia filled the air. As soon as they entered, however, the sight of their presence had silenced the entire room. The High Loremaster and his guards escorting a strange-looking knight made quite a scene, as it was expected. Although, now that it had occurred to him, Doom Slayer realized that a lot of these patron staring at them were comprised of elves, humans, and dwarves.

He was in afreakingfantasy world.

Granted, Teclis did mention "elves", he just wasn't paying much attention to all of that exposition he had to sit through. But still, it was something out of The Demon's Scroll VI: Slayerborn. Teclis walked up to the innkeeper; another Asur who had been looking nervously as the loremaster approached.

"I would like a room for one please. Your finest."

"A-At will, my lord!" The innkeeper hastily went under the counter, and took out a pair of keys before leading them upstairs.

The room was large and lavish. Full of marble and and pristine stone, it boasted some of the finest furniture the inn had to offer and catered only to the wealthiest. Maybe not for a king, but definitely for a minor noble or wealthy merchant. The innkeeper was doing his best not to be overly excited by Teclis' appearance, which was rather hard to do since the sight four important looking men were really nerve-wrecking.

"Thank you, innkeeper." Teclis said in gratitude. "Put this on my tab, will you? I believe this is where we part ways."

"O-Of course, milord!" The innkeeper soon left in haste, closing the door behind. Teclis look to the guards.

"Remain outside while I part words with the man before my leave." The guards did as ordered, and awaited outside of the room. Teclis quickly made a hand gesture and a dome surrounded both men.

"You'll have to forgive the magic, but I've neglected some important details back at the tower. Details that none must know until it has been done."

Teclis sighed heavily, but Doom Slayer, and presumably Hayden, waited patiently for the spilled secrets.

"I didn't lie when I begged of you to retrieve Malekith. However, what I've failed to mention were the reasons for it." Teclis then looked straight into through Doom Slayer's visor.

"I need him alive so that he may be put through the Flame of Asuryan. So that he may become Phoenix King."

Doom Slayer could only clench his fists in anger at more secrets, but held back to allow the Asur to explain further. Teclis noticed and carefully thought of the next words before speaking. How fortunate of Hayden to speak his mind.

"What you are asking is of grave consequence. It will be a blow to your people. Your brother said it himself, he is a 'slaver, tyrant, and murderer.' Loud and clear, in fact."Hayden repeat. Teclis' face soured with the reminder.

"I know, Hayden. And I wish to see him be brought to justice as much as my people!" Teclis exclaimed, before calming down. "But by doing so, I would break my promise to Finubar. And besides that, I had tried to find the answers elsewhere. All of them either futile... or require sacrifices. Sacrifices that I willnotbring myself to do."

Teclis looked back at him with regret. "I know what you are.Whoyou are. And I won't make the pretenses that the limited choices I had before your arrival would've brought the world to shame because of my actions. Youarethe only person who could perhaps do the impossible. You are the only one who stands between the world and Chaos. I could ill afford to allow myself to do the things only the most monstrous could."

Doom Slayer studied him carefully. He had been listening to his words since he pleaded. That was always an early sign of manipulation. Second sign was knowing what he was, then the "using everything in his powers" speech. All too much like Hayden.

He learned a lot from the doctor, and the bastard was lucky enough to not be placed on his sh*tlist of people he's killed. Right behind demons, Khan Maykr, the Hell Priests, and Olivia Pierce. He let it slide, however, due to his resourcefulness and enough of a heart to fight for home. For the time being, of course.

However, seeing the Asur's eyes, there was never an ounce of lying. No manipulations, no cheating, no cutthroating. Only cold honesty and bitter truth. In response, he relaxed his shoulder. Hayden - to his credit - spilled some of his beans.

"You have my empathy. I, too, would do the same for my world. Unfortunately, the sacrifices I made for the betterment of Mankind was pointless... and far more sinister than I had bargain for."

Doom Slayer did empathise as well. However, the difference between him and Hayden had the same distance between the Sun and Pluto. Still, he appreciated the Asur's honesty. Teclis could only look on in surprise, but a small smile was enough to give him composure.

"Thank you..." Teclis said, gesturing his hand once more to remove the dome. "We'll discuss this further another time. Away from prying ears. I will escort you by next morning to attend the funeral. For now, enjoy your stay."

"Thank you, Teclis. Have a good night."Hayden replied. The loremaster soon left the room, with only the guards still staying outside the door at Tyrion's behest. Doom Slayer looked and figured what his next steps would be.

"Might as well rest up now. Can do no wrong for such."Hayden suggested. There was a truth to that. Doom Slayer decided to take a look over the balcony and witnessed the best scenery for a long time.

The lights dazzling in the streets below and the stars ever shining above him. In the skies, he saw two moons. One that was not unlike Earth, except whole again. The other a sickly-green coloured that orbited ominously next to its twin. A strange view, but it was reminiscent of time forgotten.

It was time for bed, Doom Slayer thought. He turned off the lights and proceeded for the comfy-looking bed.

Across the Inn

Kroch Bonepicker watched from a distance as the strange man-thing entered the inn. He had been tracking them since he had entered the city. And there were many surprises he had discovered. From the knife-ear king's death to the odd man-thing coming out of nowhere, he just had to know a lot from them before he reported back. However, Clan Eshin had recieved orders by the Council of Thirteen that they were to eliminate the man-thing that knife-eared wizard had summoned.

And what joy it was that they picked him for this mission.

Kroch had been doing the occasional assassination hits on minor nobles or other ambitious skaven for the past twenty moons. He had grown tired of the miniscule work involved. Poisoning and stabbing in the shadows. All of his targets were practically walking around the corner in the Skaven's view. All he had to do was pull out a knife and run for it.

Yet, he dreamed of rising above his station. He wanted to stand above his peers and became the greatest Skaven assassin from the likes of Deathmaster Snikch. He desired the thought of killing the Emperor Karl Franz or King Thorgrim Grudgebearer. Then, he would have everything he wanted.

Breeders, warpstone drugs, and respect.

So, how excited it was that his target had the most intriguing appearance. He dressed like one of those weird shiny armored men who had terrible accents and even worse egos that enjoyed killing in spare time. Except his armor was very strange even by dwarfen designs. So many things about it would probably be mouth-watering to the dwarfs even. But he'll take it before any could grab with their stubby little paws.

"Must have-take shiny bits for mine-own. Make Kroch look-see better by skaven as great assassin-killer." He squeeked. He spied on the two and saw that they had the shiniest room the inn picked for them. After some chatting with the innkeeper, it was only the knife-ear and stranger man-thing that remained in the room. However, he had to wait as a magic dome covered them both of them. He was frustrated that he was unable to get in a word of anything inside the dome, and probably would've jumped both of them for a quick kill. But waited since it was not ideal to attack a powerful wizard. So he focused on the man-thing instead.

The dome soon disappeared and the elf wizard soon left. Now it was just the man-thing only. Thus, he waited.

Later that evening...

A few hours had passed. By this time, the man-thing would've drifted off to sleep by now.

Kroch made his move. He ran through the roofs and jumped off the balconies and began climbing to where the man-thing was. Reaching the highest balcony of his inn, he slowly climbed to find the door to his room left open. It was a good thing since he didn't have to pick through the lock as he usually. Tedious work, it was. Carefully but slowly, he snuck his way without a single noise. He looked towards his surroundings, before eyeing on the bed. There he was, sleeping like a rat pup. Snoring loudly like a dward. He still had his helmet on for some reason, but he figured he would be prepared for an attack.

Still, not prepared enough to be awake at this moment. Reaching for his warpstone daggers, he relished the moment that came with the kill and plunged his blades deep within the man-thing, after.

Or that what was supposed to happened until the body before him actually exploded with feathers instead of the blood he expected. Confused, he pulled the blanket over to find a pile of pillows bundled up together to look like a body.

Kroch had made two of the biggest mistakes an assassin would ever make. One was not inspecting his target closely to see if he even was asleep. And two, he fell for a trap.

*BANG*

The loudest noise rang through the air. So loud, it must've woke the entire inn and half the city. Kroch witnessed blood splatter all over the walls and bed frame. Except it was his blood that painted the walls red. He felt a sharp pain and lifted a hand over his chest... only to find a hole where his heart used to be. He coughed up blood and fell over to his side. He could hear the footsteps approaching his dying body, and saw his killer before him. He saw the man-thing helmetless standing over him. And never in his twenty moons had he seen so much hatred behind those terrifying gray eyes. The man-thing would look down at the Skaven with utter disgust.

A kick to the door could be heard, but Kroch's last few moments were met with the man-thing's boot pressed into his face, before the his head caved under the pressure of the crushing boot.

Doom Slayer looked at the thing below his feet. It was a disgusting rat-looking creature that attempted to murder him in his sleep.

Before, he had noticed the faint movement of something in the shadows outside as he looked over the balcony. A lifetime of surviving in Hell and fighting with the Night Sentinels had honed his senses to be sharp enough to detect the faintest dangers ahead of him. He set up a trap to lure in that rat-thing. Which wasn't that much complicated. It was practically a beginner's example that even a child could do.

And the thing completely fell for it!

He was kind of expecting a bit of danger involved but wound up in disappointment. The rat died pretty stupidly.

His super shotgun made one hell of a racket in the inn as the guards kicked down the door behind him. He casually put his helmet on before any of the guards got a closer look.

"What happened?! Do you nee-oh." A guard said, before he realized there was no need to assist Doom Slayer. Both guards looked on in shock to see the man walk away from the corpse of the rat creature. As always, Hayden spoke for him.

"I believe we have had a intrusion in our quarters. But don't worry, it's been taken care of."

The guards could only stare each other, contemplating on what to do next.

"Th-Then I suppose we will inform the Prince about the attack, then." One of the guards said.

"No need. Inform the loremaster in the morning. We'll book another room. Get someone to clean up this mess. Goodnight."

On cue, Doom Slayer walked off and the guards moved aside without hesitation. He exited to see a bunch of inn dwellers looking on in shock as the Slayer made his way downstairs.

This time, he was picking one of the more rustic rooms. And place it on Teclis' tab.

The Realm of Blood

Khorne chuckled as one of the the Horned Rat's spawn attempted to murder the Slayer in his sleep.

As if it could ever succeed.

Not a day in, and the Doom Slayer had already left his mark on the world. And the coming days would bring so much glory. Shame that they were on opposite sides, for he would've been a worthy champion. Alas, his hatred for all daemons was very much clear. If admirable.

For some time, he had been rebuilding the skull throne back to its original form, if a bit of a back tracking. Any other time, he would've been royally pissed. But with the Doom Slayer, he gave him an exception.

As he continued rebuilding, two individuals had made their appearance before him.

First was his beloved chosen, Valkia, who walked with the grace of a warrior ready for battle. Her horns flared up with the flames of wrath and her armor and weapons were plain in sight. She was the Eye of the Beholder for the god. Her expressions, however, were that of concern.

The second, however, soured his mood quite a bit.

Archaon. The Everchosen. The latest line of disappointing warlords to ever grace his halls. While Khorne was content with him leading the armies of Chaos, he never found Archaon to be that much worthy in his eyes. The only reason he still lives was because of a pact he made with the other gods that they agreed on picking a warrior outside of the Chaos Horde, where he neither favored any of the Four, yet could cull in their army to attack the rest of the Old World.

He was still displeased but kept up the stoic act.

"What do you seek, Everchosen?"

"I seek answers, Blood God."Archaon demanded. Khorne was slightly infuriated by his tone, but let it pass for now.

"Find answers elsewhere, little man. I hear Tzeentch's circle is always available to your needs."

"I would have done that earlier but his followers have been babbling worse than mad men. Along with every follower of Nurgle and Slaanesh."

"Pity."Khorne carelessly replied."Tzeentch has always been the talkative one. And as you can see, I am very much preoccupied with other things."

"W-What happened here, my love? Why has your throne collapsed?" Valkia sincerely asked with a soft tone.

"Nothing to worry about, my dear."Khorne affectionately replied."Needed a little touch up, that's all."

"And what about my concerns?"Archaon questioned in irritation."Nearly a quarter of my army is barely left standing, while the rest go insane from some sort of illness! You, of all the Gods, are the only one who's been stable as your Khornates show! Never have I seen such organization from the likes of you!"

Khorne was beginning to get angry at the increased tone. But with some effort, he was able to hold on a bit longer.

"Mind your tongue, boy."Khorne warned, without even so much as looking back."You may be the Everchosen, but I am a God of Chaos. One more insult, and you will lose my favour - along with my followers - leaving you to deal with the others. As you have said, they have gone madder than mad men. Care to push further?"

Khorne could sense Archaon was fuming underneath his helmet. The Everchosen was about ready to lash out, but decided to wisely bite his tongue. Valkia, gave a mere scornful glance towards her companion, not approving of his demeanour in front of her paramour. She then spoke up in turn to try and reason with him.

"My love, he does speak true of our army's current morale. We do seek the answers but you are the only one who knows what's happening. The other gods... are less than sound to deliver."

Khorne could only catch his breath and turned to look at Valkia with genuine affection.

"There is... a new arrival. In Ulthuan."He answered."A warrior. Beyond this realm. He has made a distinction by claiming thousands of souls. Demons, in fact. For eons, he has brought reckoning and destruction against the horde. Chaos included.

We were there when his world was destroyed. The leader of the Horde, Davoth, promised us that he'll share his power, in exchange for our armies. In return, we revelled in our own glory."

Both champions listened intently as the words flew out of the God's mouth.

"At the time, it was but another world riped for our taking. Destroyed like so many others. The screams of a billion souls were enough to temporarily quell our hunger. Of course, there was a complication. Only one soul remained.

His name has since been long forgotten but was a very determined one. Always fighting to the last breath. The demons thought he'd eventually tire out and attempted to kill him from time to time. But no matter how many of their numbers they threw at him, he would come back up bruised and bloodied... and win. His hatred proved to be strong against the horde, and it made demons frarBad enough that we had to send in our own. Didn't stick, quite frankly."

Khorne shortly reminisced of the Slayer's work, taking a brief break from talking before continuing.

"I'll admit, he had my respect - as did the others - but by then he was insignificant to us. Even when he killed scores of our legion, he was... wasted potential. But as he kept killing, the Demons had lost complete control of trying to get rid of him. So bad that he wound up trapping himself in Hell for a brief period. Sensing weakness, we turned on them and left to fend for themselves. But by then, I missed him."

Valkia looked at him pleasantly as he told his story. Archaon, on the other hand, became impatient and would've interrupted had Khorne's Bride not give him another scornful glance. The Everchosen grumbled and kept his mouth shut until the end.

"It wasn't until we arrived on the realm of Argent D'nur - right around when our old 'associates' returned - did we finally meet again. And then, did his potential become... greater. Before, he fought like an animal. Always sluggish and sloppy in his techniques, I would've found him unworthy of my time. But his time spent with the Argenta had made him the perfect killing machine. His anger, no longer an uncontrolled blaze, instead was replaced with controlled hatred. Thousands of legions had fallen at his hands with great ferocity and unmatched skill. We sent titans and champions in an attempt to break him and destroy his new home in the process... but no.

His resolve was unbreakable. His will indomitable. Rage... perfected. And soon, the demons feared him. And then... to us. He has caused quite a nightmare for everyone of us. As we speak, Tzeentch is screaming his head out; Nurgle is crying himself with snot and drool flooding out of his tear ducts; and Slaanesh... well, She has been unresponsive. Best we don't speak about hir feelings. As for my myself? Heh. Rejoiced to see his return."

So far, Archaon lost all of his anger and was instead replaced with fascination. A man who the put the fear in gods? That stirred his mind quite well. Valkia, on the other hand, was nothing more than astonished to hear of such a legend. Yet, fearful of what he was capable of. Still, the Everchosen remained curious.

"What is his name? If I may ask."

Khorne sighed when asked.

"As I said, his name is long forgotten. But the demons gave him many. The Unchained Predator, The Hellwalker, Hell's Bane, The Hound of Argent D'Nur... but only one stood out among many. One named by the Argenta themselves... Doom Slayer."

As he said it, many of the Bloodletters shivered and cowered in fear at the name. While Bloodthirsters hissed and cursed his name. Something neither of the two champions had ever predicted. Khorne finally had enough and finished his words.

"The Doom Slayer now walks among us. So intent of annihilating our hold in this world that fear has gripped the others with terror. Be wary of him, and do not underestimate his power. Where ever He goes, Death follows."

Archaon, feeling satisfied with the answer recieved, bowed in respect.

"I thank you, master. I humbly apologise for being rude. Your wisdom has been greatly needed."

"Tsk. Don't be. Think on what I've said. Death awaits for the foolish. Return to your army, for they are without a leader."

"As you will it, master."Archaon turned his back and departed from the realm; returning to the Old World. Valkia was about to leave as well, but Khorne stopped her from doing so.

"Valkia, I must ask you to stay. For a bit, at least."

His bride looked on with confusion and worry.

"Is something wrong, my love? If you'd like I can stay here an-" Khorne raised his hand and stopped her worries. His form changed to that of a great warrior in human form. His armor ever gleaming and face, strong as a mountain and bearded as the snow at the peak. His smile warmed her just as he caressed her cheek with one hand.

"There is nothing you should concern yourself with. Fear is what our enemy understands. Not you."

"But the way you describe the Slayer... he represents an anathema... to the glory that is you... and the wretched that are the other gods... you know that is something I cannot just wash away from memory."

His smile revealed a tinge of sadness as she spoke. Out of everything that wasn't blood and war, she was the one that he had grown attached to the most. Since her birth, her devotion to him gave new life inside that he had never predicted. It was different to all that he experienced. And something he would never admit. Especially Slaanesh. But he did his damndest to be as caring as he could. He looked her in the eyes, and spoke.

"I cannot change what is in your mind, but remember that I am not a mortal. My domain is in War. It is to be expected that I must express what I represent and I have nothing to fear against him... which is why you must never face him, head on."

Valkia could looked on in shock at what he requested. Khorne was the God of War and Blood. And he requests her to flee from this man? This... Slayer? It was unthinkable! She wanted to protest and rebel at the thought.

"My beloved, that is unthinkable! Why woul-"

"I know what I said contradicts before. I do not fear him for I am War itself. But for you... that is different. You have no idea what he is capable of. Promise to never face him head on..."

A thousand emotions were screaming inside her. So many things that she could have been said from her. But she relented, and looked at him solemnly.

"...If that is your request, then I shall obey your will, husband." She accepted. Khorne smiled, if only sullen for his request.

"Good. Do return to this realm when you have the chance. Your presence has been oft longing around here."

"I will, my love." Valkia looked back at him again, one more time before leaving.

Now, Khorne was left to his own device. Figuring out which skull to place next.

Chaos Wastes

Valkia returned to the Old World, right after the worrying experience in Khorne's realm.

Did the Gods truly fear this man? What makes him so terrifying that they themselves cannot fight on their own? And is there a way to even stop him from murdering her greatest love?

So many questions raced in her mind that it was hurting her. She quicked shaked the feeling off and returned to the others.

Archaon was awaiting at the top of the hill of where he oversaw the entire army. Much had been quieted down after the huge wave of madness. Now, everything has been calmed for the time being. Tzeentch's followers were still raving but have mostly kept to isolating themselves; Nurglites were quiet and stopped crying but stayed eerily stiff to the point most of the Warriors just thought they were dead... and stayed away from them as usual. Slaaneshi, however, were practically restrained in chains and struggled in futile to release themselvess. They've been trying to scream even as their mouths were gagged with cloth, with some biting their own tongues off just to release themselves from the pain.

Only the Khornates and Chaos Warriors were left to their own idle hands. It was quite strange to see the Followers of Khorne doing... normal work. She had seen several of them chatting and minding their own business like they had just taken a break from working the fields. Even the Chaos Warrior were relatively freaked out by this new developement and wished they would just go back to going berserk. Given Khorne's demeanour, it was indeed odd, she thought.

She walked up to him and awaited his orders.

"Everchosen, shall we wait until the Chaos are back in order? Or do you wish to continue as planned?" She asked. Archaon stayed silent, barely registering her appearance.

"... It is strange to hear the Gods being so afraid."He started, causing Valkia to raise an eyebrow"Since their birth, none have been opposed save for the likes of Sigmar or Aenarion or whatever martyrs the Southerners praise these days. Chaos grows strongers while their gods grow weaker... until now. And only one man was able to do all of this just by stepping into our world."

Archaon pointed a hand into the crowd below

"What are you getting at, Archaon?" Valkia questioned, accusatively.

"What I'm getting at is that there's a being more powerful than Chaos itself, and it could rival them not unlike Sigmar. If that is true, then he must be dealt with, immediately."

"But what of the army? Most of them can barely hold themselves together without pissing themselves in the middle of a march!"

"No... but the Khornates seem just fine enough."Archaon turned back to Valkia with a neutral expression."We will continue our plans as scheduled. Gather your troops and march them off to Naggaroth. Then you will bring me the head of this... 'Doom Slayer' that the Gods fear so much about in Ulthuan. We are done here."

Valkia struggled on whether to obey her husband's or the Everchosen, but decided to choose the latter, for it was not worth worrying about.

"As you wish, Everchosen." She bowed in respect and walked back to the Khornates.

Valkia continuously wondered about the Doom Slayer. What could he possibly be to make himself the nightmare of Gods?

She was already heading towards Alfheim after dealing with the Dark Elves, so it couldn't be that bad... could it?

To be continued...

Chapter 3: Cloaked in Shadow

Chapter Text

Ancient Stones - Skyrim OST

Lothern,Ulthuan

Doom Slayer awoke from his rest in his room. It was less a sleep and more a meditative nap. The perks of being blessed by the Seraphim made him incapable of feeling neither hungry nor tired. He very much could go on without any basic needs. Hell, pissing was no longer necessary. Though, he occasionally took enjoyment in the minor activities if he had the chance. Just one flex, and he could do it instantly.

Since last night, the attempted assassination had gotten the inn residents on edge. The guards were pretty quick to get rid of the body before any witnesses had come in. Although, based on the hushed reactions from everyone and Hayden's diagnosis on the body, he may have stumbled upon a species of "rat-like" beastmen.

Whatever that meant to him.

Still, such rumors that made a fuss around the inn could bring potential intel now that he was here. At the cost of alienating some of the inn's patrons. Whatever the hell their reasons were.

Hopefully, Teclis would be there to vouch for him.

Doom Slayer stood up from his bed and stretched. It had been a long time since he had rested before. His head felt lighter and more relaxed but was still mentally prepared as always. He looked to his surroundings to find himself in a more spartan but homely room just below the VIP area. He kept his Praetor armor on except for his helmet and shoulder cannon, to which he equipped back both on.

"Rise and shine."Hayden dryly greeted."We have work to do."

*Knock-knock*

Doom Slayer walked towards the door of his room and opened to reveal a guardsman standing in front of the doorway.

"Prince Teclis is here to see you. He has been informed of last night's incident."

"Thank you. We'll be heading out now."Hayden responded. The guard stepped aside as the Slayer went downstairs to meet up with Teclis. It only took two minutes for them to spot Teclis sitting at one of the tables. The Loremaster sighed in relief but revealed hints of worry when approaching. Among the patrons, news of the King's death had spread like wildfire and caused no shortage of sadness for the people. While Teclis assured that it was not his fault, Doom Slayer felt slight regret and wondered if it was true. Still, paying respect to the deceased would at least bring him some manner of peace.

"Greetings, Slayer. I had hoped your evening wasn't too troublesome. I heard what happened and I deeply apologize for not putting enough precautions."

"Apologies for what? Being attacked? Hardly an issue he could standby."Hayden remarked."But that's not something you should concern yourself. I believe there's a funeral we should be attending now."

"Still, my concerns are very much on high alert. Especially in regards to the assassin in question." Teclis replied, lowering his voice to a sudden. "But I can't speak further, not while in public."

"Lead the way."Teclis gestured the two to follow them. They were led outside to see the once quiet city bursting with noise and a diverse scenery full of various races coming together. The streets crowded with merchants and cheerful folk as he assessed. Some looked into the direction of the Slayer as exited. Many were curious as usual, Doom Slayer not surprised by this when he entered the city. Many eyed at his armor; dwarves especially were fascinated by it. However, guards soon gathered around them before they could approach him. An eloborate carriage soon stopped in front of them, with Teclis looking back.

"Tyrion has made arrangements to transport us to the funerary rites... of course, if you'd like, I can simply use my magic to merely shorten our distance. And considering you are mute, just place your fingers up. One for carriage, two for magic." Teclis explained before waiting patiently for Doom Slayer's answer. Doom Slayer thought for a moment before placing a finger up. Hayden answered as if to read his thoughts out."

"I think he wants to enjoy the scenery for a bit, Teclis."Hayden remarked. Teclis shrugged.

"Fine by me. I can't blame you for being curious of Ulthuan. Lothern is one of many wonders the island has to offer. Come, perhaps we can discuss more about each other on the way."

Both elf and man took their seats and enjoyed the scenery around them.

Some alley...

Feliceth watched as the strange knight left with the loremaster outside of the inn. The two had taken to riding on a royal carriage and possibly towards the king's funeral. She had been watching them both since they entered the inn. The incident upstairs rattled quite a lot of people, even for her. When he came down, he booked another room after.

As it turns out, a skaven had attempted to assassinate him while he was asleep. It didn't go well if the bloody sack the guards were pulling outside was to go by. Something about his aura felt overwhelming and heavy to her. The air grew cold and unwelcoming whenever he appeared. His posture and movement being angry and intimidating. And behind his helm were eyes full of hatred and bloody vengeance. The only thing that seemed out of place was his voice. It seemed... monotone for someone built like a daemonic stallion. Still, the deep baritone made up for the oddness. Whoever he was, she was certain that she needed to get out unless she wanted to be in the crossfire.

It may have been the paranoia talking, but something about him felt off. Something...primordial. She quickly fled the scene and went back to her hideout.

It was only a few blocks from where she resided in and it was a good place to hide... for a noble. While not much in a way to be considered a squalor, the housing was inconspicuous to prying eyes and relatively clean to live in. Still, she missed having slaves beckoned to her every whim when she was living in her family's household. But for now, it will just have to do.

Arriving at her 'home', which was a two story building that was isolated from the more crowded streets of Lothern, she scrounged for her keys and quickly entered. Locking behind with additional chains, she sighed in relief for her own safety.

She fled back upstairs to her room, and locked behind even further. With her thoughts alone, she could finally figure things out. Her next step was to get out of this island without suspicion and then-

"Having trouble, my dear?"Feliceth frozed in place as she recognized the frosty tone coming from behind. While not the most daemonic sound - in fact, it was quite pleasant to listen to - the words that had come out dripped with venom behind a sultry voice. She slowly turned around to see that her mirror's reflection was replaced with the visage of the most powerful sorceress since before the Sundering.

Morathi. The Hag-Sorceress of Ghrond herself.

And upon her beautiful face drew a scowl.

Moments ago...

Tower of Prophecy, Naggaroth

Disobey - Oddko/Tainted Love - Marilyn Manson

Morathi sat idly on her throne as she waited impatiently for news from outside of Naggaroth. Her servants had reverted back to their usual states. Most of them, at least. Some were less fortunate and died horrifically in terrible and mutated states. And few were taken in by Druchii enforcers to be... "interrogated". It made her irritable to say the least, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

The slaves at her feet yearned for her attention as they lounged lazily on the floor under the influence of ecstacy and narcotics running in their veins. One kissed her foot in an attempt to appease her mistress. She was met with a shove from her foot into the face, causing her to yelp as she fell on her back. Morathi could only laugh at the girl's little mishap. She stood up from her seat and walked along the corridors of her tower. Several slaves and servants looked up to her with undying reverance as she passed by them.

She was the Hag-Sorceress of Ghrond; Mother of the Witch-King and of the Druchii. All shall love her and despair wherever she walks. And right now, she was in considerable mood to start moving the pieces on the board. She had sent messages, premonitions and even death threats to her spies all over to bring back reports on any of the latest activity. Especially with the recent phenomena that occured last night.

Morathi reached for one of the rooms on the left side. Here, could she conduct her rituals without distractions. The room was used to commit both blood rituals and oversee the world. At the center of it, was a pool meant for cleansing purposes but also to spill blood to rejuvenate her youthful appearances. However, she had her sights on the crystal ball that had been held in place further on the other face of the room. She glided above the pool and stood before the crystal ball. Placing her hand on the smooth but reflective surface, she began scrying and searched for her answers.

Visions began flooding in her mind. Thousands upon thousands swarmed her very conscious. Dangerous it may have been to the uninitiated, but to the Hag-Sorceress, they were nothing more than a slight migraine. However, there were clear images of disorder and anarchy around the world. Many of which involved Chaos and its minions slowly descending into madness in the same vein as her Pleasure Cult followers. Massive infighting and an influx of insanity plagued the minds of every cultists. For the Hag-Sorceress, it intrigued her no doubt for while she may be in league with the followers of the Serpent, Morathi saw it beneficial to abandon Hir out of sheer self-preservation should the need arise. Just what caused this phenomena is the question.

Indulging in the thought of going into her greatest enemy's territory, she started in Ulthuan. She scoured her sights on the spies supplanted themselves there on both her and Malekith's orders. If the Asur had something special, then she will surely get her hands on it before they could. If she sees something she likes, then she will have it as desired.

Scrying more, she finally sets her sights on one individual.

Feliceth of House Mournheart. Daughter of minor nobility, and one of Morathi's playthings. And from what she can see in the golden-haired girl, she was hurrying to the safety of her home. From what? She'll get her claws, soon enough.

Calling her through the orb, she made her presence clear in the girl's mirror, just as she entered her room.

"Having trouble, my dear?" Morathi started as she announced herself. The girl jumped in fright as she heard the frosty tone of her superior. She slowly turned to see Morathi in all her glory and looked with widened eyes before prostrating herself to the floor in front of her.

"M-Mother Morathi!"Feliceth stuttered as she did her best to welcome her mistress. Morathi simply looked on bemused as the morsel stroke her ego. Feliceth looked back up to her properly eexplain herself.

"T-This is a most unexpected visit! I did not kno-"

"Silence, little one." Morathi firmly ordered. The girl quickly and obediently shut herself up soon after. The Hag-Sorceress smiled and continued on all the while looking at her own nails.

"I have been...anxiously... waiting for any news of the outside world, and yet, recieved so little information from any of you. Those who bring me trivial news will understand what happened when I'm disappointed..." Morathi then turned her gaze towards Feliceth with cold blue eyes staring through her soul. "Tell me, Feliceth; will you disappoint me?"

Feliceth quickly shaked her head in fright."N-No, Mother Morathi! I serve you willingly and bring news for your ears only!"

"That remains to be seen..." Morathi dryly replied. "Go on, speak. You're free to speak loudly as well. I have made incantations to make the room soundproof. So spill freely."

Feliceth carefully thought of her next words and spoke up.

"The Phoenix King, Finubar, has been pronounced dead. The Asur princes have set up a funeral and the-"

"What?!" Morathi paused her as she heard the news in shock. The Phoenix King was dead? How? When? And why was she hearing this now? Morathi's mood changed to outrage.

"When did he die? And how?!" Morathi demanded.

"He died last night! But no one knows how!"

"And you bring me news of this now?!" Morathi's voice grew louder in anger of the belated news. Her magic was glowing brighter in response and Feliceth began panicking as she realized that she unintentionally slighted her mistress.

"W-Word of his death was announced a quarter of an hour ago! It is the truth, I swear!"She pleaded.

"You dare spill more excuses word after word?! I have had enough of this! You'll be of good use as red paint on the walls!"

"Wait! There's more!"The poor girl cried out. Morathi stayed her hand at the last second, merely within a flick of a finger to splat the girl's innards inside-out. She stayed silent on the matter, before making her judgement.

"Speak." Morathi coldly ordered. The girl slowly calmed herself down as she found her voice.

"...I-I saw the High Loremaster of the White Tower being accompanied by a strange man in even stranger armor. He seemed to be some sort of mercenary. Intimidating to look, even."Feliceth explained. Morathi's hand glowed with magic a bit brighter, causing the girl to reel back in horror.

"But he looked so different to everyone! And strange about him! He even killed an assassin in his sleep from what I remember! Please! That's all I know!"Feliceth pleaded. Morathi was, at this point, a little skeptical but let her slights be put aside in favor of digging through the girl's mind. She held back her power afterwards. She gestured her to come closer.

"Step forward, child of Naggaroth, and place your hand on the mirror. So that I may look through your memories." She commanded. The girl slowly raised hers and touched the surface of the reflection, allowing the Hag-Sorceress to channel her powers. Moments later, she saw the recent memories flowing through her.

And what she witnessed was...alluring.

Morathi saw the strange man in all his glory, and her heartslightlyskipped a beat. He stood tall and proud like one of the northern barbarians, but wore something that was neither heavy nor unwieldy, and definitely not ugly to look to look at if his armor was to go by. Smooth and utilitarian in its design. Only his biceps were the only things left exposed and by the gods, and she could just feel the strength in those arms. She could see the glare behind that exposed helm of his and it would make Khaine proud for carrying such a murderous gaze. Even the way he carried himself was that of a hardened warrior. Everything about him spoke of power and dominance... and she wanted him in her harem. She could just imagine this man rut her like a beast in heat; his hands gripping around her neck while he pounded her into submission.

Oh, if she could get her claws on him, it would make her day.

Satisfied with the source laid before her she quickly let go of her grip on the girl's soul. Feliceth awaited for her mistress' judgement, fearing of what fate she will recieve soon after. Morathi's lips gave a predatory smile as she set the stones for her next plans.

"Well, you certainly have proven yourself useful, after all." She complimented, causing Feliceth to sigh in relief. Morathi soon put on a stoic expression after.

"However, you will prove it further by spying this... knight, wherever he goes. I heard he was attending Finubar's funeral, yes?" Feliceth nodded quickly to Morathi's joy.

"Good. Find out who he is, and what are his reasons for affiliating with the High Loremaster. Am I clear?"

"Yes, mistress!" Feliceth complied.

"Excellent. Oh! And one more thing; should you ever get caught, you'll be on your own after. Try to run - and I will know - I will make good promise on my early threat..." Morathi warned. Feliceth could only gulp in worry, but nodded quickly.

"Good, off you go!" Morathi waved off and disconnected herself from the girl's location. She could just feel the girl relieving herself from the intense conversation she put her through. Quite thrilling and it keeps the servants on their toes.

Though, if memory served, the Loremaster was most likely responsible for the surge of madness stirring up in the Chaos Warriors. If so, then the knight accompanying was definitely no coincidence.

And with the gears shifting in her mind, that'll only mean one thing...

The Dark Prince.

The Realm of Pleasure

The Pleasure Palace was in terrible conditions by the time things had settled down. The entrance to the Palace was completely obliterated to smithereens; several paintings were torn to shreds; furniture was smashed into pieces; slaves were dead either by the daemonettes or themselves in a fit of madness; and bottles of the strongest elixirs and alcohol were strewn about in the private chambers of the Dark Prince hirself. Hir servants were nowhere to be seen, as Slaanesh had shunned them off elsewhere while She drowned hirself in misery and liquor. She laid on top of her bed as She had the alcohol worked their magic. Yet, no matter how many times she drank, none of them worked. Not even the rivers of Gluttony were able to sate hir thirst despite conjuring the strongest drinks She could think of. Even if She did, it was only temporary, for only the impending doom gnawed at the back of her mind.

The Doom Slayer was here. And She wasf*ckedalongside hir brothers.

And not in a good way. Inanyway, even.

By now, the others were probably going through the same motions like hir. Except maybe Khorne. That idiot seemed to be having a blast by now based on the different energy flowing from his realm. Less angry and more... happy.

That was a first in a long time.

By now, Slaanesh was setting up a bucket list of things She wanted to do before She got a brand new asshole put in place by that monster. Like maybe go sightseeing, meet new people, eat good food, sleep with said new people.

Actually, scratch that. None of those things mattered, either way.

She was f*ckedbeyondrelief.

*Knock-knock*

A knock from the door stirred her awake, much to her dismay.

"What is it?"She asked, derisively. The door opened, and Slaanesh threw an empty bottle in anger. The person behind it yelped in surprise.

"I DIDN'T f*ckING SAY TO COME IN!"She lashed out. The servant behind the door wisely thought best to speak through the door.

"Y-You have a message, Dark Prince! The Hag-Sorceress of Ghrond would like to speak with you!" The servant replied. Slaanesh groaned and proceeded to get up from hir stupor. She pulled out a pink bathrobe and walked towards the door. Opening it revealed a dainty and quivering daemonette. The servant looked on in fear as Slaanesh glared at hir with utter disdain.

"And you thought that I would be in the mood to do so? Or that maybe you could've sent a Keeper of Secrets to speak with her in my stead?"She questioned. The daemonette could only stare in utter silence, as she tried to think of a proper explanation to hir. Slaanesh simply kicked hir hard in the stomach, launching hir into the air and crashing into a window, before plummeting to a pink grassy area outside of the Palace.

With plenty of broken bones.

But still alive. If barely. The Dark Prince howled in rage afterwards.

"IF SOMEONE DARES TO DISTURB ME AGAIN, YOU CAN BET YOUR ASSES THAT I'M PUTTING ALL OF YOU THROUGH SENSORY DEPRIVATION FOR MY AMUsem*nT! AND PLEASE SOMEONE SPEAK TO THAT ELVEN BITCH! I'M NOT AVAILABLE!"Slaanesh threatened throughout hir realm, instilling fear in hir servants. Daemonettes and Keepers of Secrets steered clear of hir home but obeyed her every demands. Slaanesh slammed the door to her room and went back to her alcohol-innduced coma.

Tower of Prophecy,Ghrond

Morathi awaited expectantly of her "master" as she stood before the pool. It had been about five or six minutes of waiting impatiently of the daemonette to return with answers. She did find the daemon to be oddly fidgety and quiet. But since she had power over hir and could care less about hir worries, she just brushed it off.

Moments later, an apparition appeared before her. This time it was a Keeper of Secrets. The towering pink hermaphrodite looked at Morathi with a surprisingly tired expression. Heavy bags unded hir eyes and graying hair were quite telling.

"Yeah? What do you want?"The Keeper rudely asked. Morathi was incensed by the seemingly blunt tone she recieved from an otherwise affable Slaaneshi daemon.

"Mind your tongue, daemon! I am the Hag-Sorceress of Ghrond and you will both address me by my title and acknowledge my power! And I requested to speak with the Dark Prince!" She retorted. The Keeper could only react with apathy at Morathi's claims.

"Tsk. You are in no position to make such demands."The Keeper replied."Our mistress is every bit unavailable as we speak. However, She is... kind... enough to send a representative such as myself to do business with you. So forgive the impolite behaviour. A lot of has been... distressing for all in the Dark Prince's realm."

Morathi raised an eyebrow at the last words. Was it really thatbadin the Chaos realms? She shrugged it off, however, and immediately made requests.

"What can you tell me about the knight in Ulthuan? The one with the High Loremaster in Lothern?" She asked. The Keeper gazed with horror. She leaned in closer and hushed her warily.

"SHHHH! Not so loud! Are you insane?! I could get skull-f*cked because of your curiosity!"The Keeper harshly whispered. Morathi narrowered her eyes with indignation but the Keeper quickly changed her tune and explained carefully.

*sigh* "Look, if you really want to know, then so be it."Morathi beamed with satisfaction, but the Keeper rolled hir eyes in annoyance.

"The man you speak of is a dreaded figure among the Realms of Chaos. Uttering his name is enough to terrify the others even from a distance. His reputation truly exceeds even the most legendary figures of the past. Even your... husband."

While he was never mentioned out loud, Morathi was fuming at the mere mention of Aenarion. He was her most precious memory besides their son, Malekith. So the feeling of his name being insinuated was insulting to her.

"Say his name, and you willsoonmeet him." Morathi threatened. The daemon, however, continued.

"Fine. Have it your way. Regardless, the man is a titan of ancient pasts. For eons, many of our legions were felled beneath his blade. Forever lost to us in his vengeful crusade. Champions and lords fought with all their might, only to be cut down mercilessly against him. He was the black tide that attempted to swallow us all. But our counterparts, the Legions of Hell, devised a plan to seal him deep within their dark catacombs for an eternity. While it may have been reassuring, Chaos decided that it was better to cut ties and seal ourselves away from them as far as possible."

"The Legions of Hell? Who are they?" Morathi questioned. She never heard that name before. Nor did she recognise other beings outside of the known Chaos Gods as well.

"Old associates of ours. Probably long gone, by now."The Daemon simply answered."And Chaos was correct in their predictions. And now, we are royally screwed. Mark my words, dear sorceress, the man you are looking into cannot be persuaded, reasoned with, or begged, for he does not care. He is the Scourge of God, and he will bring ruin to all. And even now, the Hordes of Chaos have gone mad. Only Khorne's Chosen remain stable and march onward."

"The Scourge of... "God", you say? Not gods? Justagod? And what of Khorne." Morathi questioned. The daemon could only shake her head impatiently.

"There are many gods outside of this mortal realm, Druchii. And few are even more powerful than others. As for Khorne's, well, I can't reveal such..."

Morathi remained silent, but more and more hungry for the knowledge bestowed upon her. But first...

"Before we go further, you will reveal what of the Blood God's plans. Or your master will be the last person you want to anger." The daemon eyed her, accusatively. But relented, eventually.

"Fine. The Khornates are coming to attack your lands as we speak. But that wouldn't matter. They will be the least of your problem."

"Coming from someone who's scared of a bogeyman." Morathi remarked. "Speaking of which, you barely speak of the stranger's name. You speak in riddle and I want a straight answer." Morathi demanded. The Daemon stared at her with obvious disgust.

"As I said; I cannot say it out loud, for it carries dread for all to hear. However, I have no issue spelling it out. But once done, I will break contact with you for my own safety.Weneverhad this discussion."

"Yes, yes, or else your skull will be violated and so forth. Just spill it out already!" Morathi impatiently demanded. The daemon showed no amusem*nt in Morathi's tone.

"So be it."The daemon said, and then snapped hir fingers immediately after.

"Enjoy your search."Communication soon broke off as the Daemon vanished from Morathi's sight, and purple magic began glowing in front of sorceress' eyes. The lights soon dissipated and revealed her wall had been carved with writings on it. Only a name.

Doom Slayer.

Morathi's lips curled up with dark joy.

"My, my, what will I do with you, brave knight?"

Kyne's Peace - Jeremy Soule

Lothern, Ulthuan

The trip had been steady so far. Not exciting but not boring either given the green environment around them. Doom Slayer watched the scenery slowly transition from concrete walls and cobblestone streets to lush green forests and hills as they ascended towards the hilltops above Lothern. Teclis and Hayden kept themselves busy conversing with one another over trivial things like technology, history, and science. Teclis seemed enthusiastic in learning about the humans on Earth, to which Hayden was more than happy to share in exchange for the use of magic. Of course, if Hayden still had his body, Doom Slayer would've been more comfortable riding in silence as he watched the landscape shift around them.

But that wasn't the case, and he was trapped listening to a bunch of nerds talking nerd stuff.

Fortunately, the ride was short, for the horses stopped in their tracks as they arrived at the funeral. They exited out of the carriage and Doom Slayer scanned the building before him.

It was an eloborate cathedral that stood out like a sore thumb. Architecture was styled in Gothic Revival, and done in painstaking detail. The placement of it overlooked the entire city. Like everything in Ulthuan, it was huge. And it was kind of expected for a race of such grandiose.

Elves were elves, really.

Teclis began leading the Slayer along with the guards inside.

"I must admit, Dr. Hayden, you impress me more and more with your knowledge. I daresay, you may have surpassed the College of Magic or the Asur with such an intellect. It would be a valuable asset for the world if you're willing to share it." Teclis remarked.

"Of that, I can agree. In exchange for the inner workings of magic, of course."Hayden replied.

"Those are acceptable terms." Teclis continued to lead them to entrance. A guard greeted in respect.

"Greetings, Prince Teclis. Your brother is expecting you inside. As is the King's family and the princes attending."

"Much appreciated. We'll be heading our way in now." Teclis replied. The men entered and walked the halls as they headed towards the King's final resting place. The halls were vast and gigantic enough that it could have been the home of giants.

However, the atmosphere was very solemn. Silence would have deafened the halls were it not for the footsteps.

The group arrived at before the room that was to be held. Teclis stopped and gestured the guards to leave with just the two of them alone.

"I should probably mention that there'll be a lot of mourners inside. The Everqueen, the King's daughter, my brother, other princes, dwarfen and human ambassadors and plenty of nobles in there. I would suggest of you to remain quiet at this hour, Dr. Hayden. Doom Slayer, of course, is exempted given you are... well, a man of silence." Teclis detailed.

Doom Slayer shrugged while Hayden replied with manners as usual.

"Understandable."Teclis then gestured the guards at the door to allow them passage.

Upon entering, Doom Slayer walked alongside the Prince as they head closer to the seatings. A mourning crowd was entirely focused on their King as (presumably) the priest continued his speech before the two passed the first row.

And then did the silence break.

Just as it did back at the inn, the crowd soon focused their attention on the Slayer's appearance. A lot of heads at the front turned back as they saw him walking alongside the prince, while those behind began whispering about his appearance. Some were fascinated by the designs and a couple of dwarfs wanted to approach him about it later. Others, however, were less welcoming. Accusations of him being an uncouth mercenary were the norm as they moved. And fewer were accusations of him being a Warrior of Chaos. Given how "outlandish" he looked, Doom Slayer took it with a grain of salt.

As they got closer, the princes and what was presumably the Everqueen and her daughter stared at the Slayer like deer in headlights. It was quite comical to see them gaze at him like a new animal placed in a zoo. They all quickly stared back at Tyrion, who was the only one who didn't looked surprise by his brother and his guest's arrival. Instead, his expression was that of outrage and annoyance as before.

Very befitting as warm greetings go.

Teclis guided him towards his guest's seating and left him to be alongside the other princes. The others kept staring at Doom Slayer with apprehension but soon turn their attention to the loremaster himself, and quickly avoided staring at him as Tyrion glared back at the princes. The Everqueen looked at Tyrion with assurance and serenity and all soon focused back to the king laid before them.

And then after, it was full of prayers and sermons and so forth

This was going to be awhile for Doom Slayer.

South of the Chaos Wastes, Towards Naggaroth...

The Khornates and the Chaos Warriors ran down south to where Naggaroth was. Where they will plunder the Dark Elves of their slaves, their riches, and their glory. As promised by the Everchosen.

They have been marching tirelessly since the dead of night as ordered by Valkia the Bloody, who marched alongside them. Acompanying them was the famed Wulfrik the World-Walker and his Norscan raiders. Wulfrik demanded that he accompanied the followers of the Hound in order to seek out battle early. The Everchosen was surprisingly gratious and allowed him to partake in the battle against the Dark Elves. Now, their combined forces was enough to take the Druchii by force and push them towards Alfheim. Once done, it was only a matter of time before the Elves began killing each other for their homeland. Many of the warriors grew eager as they marched closer to their prize.

But for the Gorequeen, this was not enough to sway worried thoughts.

Since leaving the Realm of Blood, Valkia had been contemplating about the dangers ahead. Her husband's warnings occupied her mind, as of late. The dreaded feeling that this individual could potentially stop the Gods blocked all other thoughts.

Yet, history has shown that even the Gods could be afraid. The first Phoenix King known as Aenarion once held a sword said to have brought terror to the Warriors of Chaos in a past age; Nagash the First Necromancer desired to cut the threads from Chaos by turning the world into a realm of the dead; and the first emperor of the weak southerners, Sigmar Heldenhammer, turned the tides against the legions by destroying a Champion of Khorne (along with other feats) and carving out an empire out of it afterwards.

Fortunately, all vanished from the face of this world. Whether dead or simply disappeared to parts unknown, Chaos stood unopposed an enemy without. So naturally, this warrior of unknown origins was simply just another would-be Slayer of Chaos. It should be no problem.

Or could it?

"Something troubling you, Gorequeen?" Valkia's thoughts were broken as the World Walker's voices invaded her private thoughts. Wulfrik looked at her with some concern. Although, he hid it well behind his usual joyful personality as he smiled that wolfish grin of his. Valkia scowled at him for disrespecting her personal space.

"Mind your business, Wulfrik. Concern yourself for your own safety. Would be a waste to destroy your raiders before we arrive because you questioned me." Valkia warned. Wulfrik smirked but backed some distance.

"Just making conversation is all." Wulfrik excused. "Besides, you haven't been yourself, lately. Been awfully quiet when the army needs to hear the roar of the Gorequeen flying over them. To be frank, the Khornates haven't exactly been themselves, either."

"And what makes you believe that, World Walker?" Valkia furrowed her brow with an accusative tone.

"Seriously? Look at your men." Wulfrik raised a thumb and pointed it over his left shoulder. "They've been as silent as rocks since the incident up north. Some of my men had almost been pissing themselves out of fear; preferred that they started screaming blood and skulls than be so damn... quiet."

"The Gods saw fit that the berserkers be focused in their battle against the Dark Elves." She lied. Wulfrik saw through it and bellied out a mocking laughter.

"HAH! Never took a follower of the Hound to be a good liar. If the Gods did see fit for your warriors, then what of the other followers? The Serpent, the Raven, and the Crow? Those three have been out of their damn minds; crying over spilled milk or something. Not like the Hound's. No. There's something a foot here, and you're hiding it."

He leaned in closer, but not enough to be considered threatening for Valkia. Still, she kept Slaupnir by her side and made careful planning to use it before Wulfrik could overstep the line.

"What did you find from our Blood God? What answers did you recieve when you've arrived upon his throne?" He questioned. Valkia was glaring daggers and clenching her teeth at being scrutinised by this low-life. However, restraint had been the better master to her and told her to at least be reasonable about it. To a degree, however.

"...When was the last time Chaos had been stopped before?" Valkia asked. Wulfrik paused and opened his mouth but no words came out of it. He scratched his dirty red beard to try and remember but came out with nothing.

"I'm not exactly good with history, y'know? But care to elaborate?"

Valkia could only shake her head at her fellow norsii's ignorance.

"Since Magnus the Pious defeated our last Everchosen, Avasar Kul. Which was almost 230 years ago."

"That long, eh?" Wulfrik said, now scratching his head. "Been awhile since we've gotten a new Everchosen. But that really hasn't stop our people from raiding the south, has it?"

"No, not really..." She agreed, before answering reluctantly in hushed whispers. "But there is a new power. One that could potentially destroy us all."

"So a challenger? Well, they can get in line once I've taken the skulls of other champions." Wulfrik casually boasted.

"You may be right. But Khorne has made it clear that the gods are... afraid." Valkia further explained. "Something about this... man has made an impression on every god. Khorne is pleased, however, but not so much for the others."

"So you're saying this southerner has put the fear in the gods? Interesting." Wulfrik looked intrigued by this. However, Valkia was not amused at all by his interests.

"Don't even think about it. And by Khorne's words, he is no southerner. Far from it." Wulfrik looked surprised but kept quiet.

"He is... not from here, but from another realm. A time when the Gods were truly powerful in their infancy. And he has come to bring wrath and ruin to us all." Valkia finished. "And now we are to conquer Alfheim soon after the Dark Elves are destroyed in order to stop this man." Valkia finished. Wulfrik looked on with a mix of emotions on his face, but his smile prevailed and revealed his intent.

"So... an other worlder, eh? Finally, a skull worthy to lay claim for the gods."

"Don't even think about it, Wulfrik." Valkia warned. "We don't even know what kind of power he holds, so you best stay clear of him. And not a word gets out between the two of us. Do so, then I'll start raping your arse with Slaupnir. Understood?"

"Heh, could have been more gentle about it? Maybe share drinks first before we get to the action?" Wulfrik jested, much to Valkia's ire. The Wanderer took notice and backed down.

"Eh, relax. I'm simply lightening the mood. And don't worry, your secrets with me."

The World Walker winked and soon departed to meet up with his raiders, leaving Valkia to her own thoughts again.

"Guide my blade, beloved."

King Bran's Final Voyage- The Witcher 3 OST

Lothern, Ulthuan

The funeral ended surprisingly early than expected. The king's remains were moved back to the city where it was placed on a boat and drifted off to the calm seas before being lighted by fire by an archer off shore.

"The mourning is over. All of Ulthuan is grateful of your attendance. However, we will have to cut this ceremony short, immediately. Mourn and give condolences in your homes. The Phoenix Court shall now begin an assembly at the parliament. Thank you and goodbye."

Teclis' voice rang the air as he announced the following events. Many of the denizens looked confused, including the princes. However, all dispersed quickly and moved on with their lives. Doom Slayer was waiting nearby with a couple of Teclis' guards behind him. By this time, it was still noon. The ceremony was done rather hastily. However, not many were expecting the king to die so sudden and with the way the End Times were coming so soon, so it's not hard to see the sickly prince be in a hurry.

All the princes soon gathered and walked towards the parliament in haste. Teclis approached Doom Slayer and shooed the guards away elsewhere.

"Well, this is far from over. We still have more matters to deal with. Usually the "paperwork" politics the princes seem to enjoy." Teclis grumbled. Doom Slayer crossed his arms in both annoyance and disapproval of having to waste more time. Hayden spoke his mind out.

"That is hardly an important matter to deal with. He is here to destroy the daemons, not sit through beauracracy. How much time must be wasted before it is too late stop the end of the world?"Hayden questioned. Teclis could only shake his head in annoyance.

"Had it been a normal time; usually thirty days." Teclis approximated. Doom Slayer furrowed his eyebrows behind his visor, giving the prince a clear view of his current mood.

"That is time we don't have. It is now or never."Hayden pressed.

"And I agree with such an argument, believe me. But arguing with these princes is like trying to punch a wall. Their egos are simply that hard to break."

"Well, not hard for him."Hayden countered as he pointed Doom Slayer as an example.

"Of that, I'm well aware. But 'the pen is mightier than the sword' as your human sayings go." Teclis remarked. "Unfortunately, there is truth to that. I won't order you to be my lapdog, mind you, so you're free to do as you will. However, making a good impression among the princes is a start... Then again, you have a sort of rebellious streak about you." Teclis assessed.

Doom Slayer shrugged; pretty much apathetic about politics.

"Doesn't care, really."Hayden answered. Teclis smirked then gestured Doom Slayer to follow.

PhoenixCourt

"This is unaccept-"

"-xpect us to consider action withou-"

"-re on the verge of collapse if we don-"

"-then we shall call in vot-"

"-ur king has just passed and now you're alrea-"

Doom Slayer stayed behind the scenes as he listened on the sycophantic rantings of the princes arguing over who was going to be the next king. Not even a minute since entering and they all started going at each other's throats.

Doom Slayer was not one for politics. He lived a soldier's life. Before his first life came to an end, he was a marine. He was trained to be the best soldier on the field, and a damn good one to boot. His training saved him more times when the first Hell invasion came. And this was all before he became a Night Sentinel.

Still, politics got in the way as usual. Only this time, the politicians were full of knife-eared pricks.

He would be glad to just go back to Hell and finish his job then be here all day.

Teclis looked tired and slammed his staff into the floor causing a burst of magic in the room; grabbing everyone's attention.

"That is enough! All of you!" Teclis declared. "I understand that this is a stressful time we are living in but we must put all our attention in the next step forward. Finubar has writtened his will before his passings and we must now honor them."

"And how exactly did the High Loremaster recieve such a will?" One prince questioned. The prince was a remarkably brunet among an otherwise blonde-haired crowd. He wore a mixture of gold and white coloured armor with a dragon heraldry. The air around him reeked of ambition and pride.

"It is rather suspicious of you to keep one right after the king passed. Tell us, were you're going to use it as leverage to have us all kowtow if you were declared Phoenix King? Or was it your brother that you would support whom you lived under his shadow?" He continued. Tyrion was livid to hear those words and struck back.

"You dare insult my brother as if I'd use him as a puppet, Imrik?! You speak proud and mighty, yet show no proof of it as you hide behind your dragons while you sing to them! So we'll settle this with a duel! Unless a Caledorian like you is too much of a peaco*ck to even prove himself worthy!"

"HOW DARE YOU!" The prince now identified as Imrik yelled in retaliation of Tyrion's insult. The crowd grew into an uproar as both princes were ready to draw swords out. However, Teclis and another prince stood between the princes.

"Enough! This bickering is going nowhere unless we focus on pressing matters at hand!" The third prince said. He was - for one thing - tall even by elven standards. He was quite huge and easily towered the other princes. His armour stood out as it had the coat of a lion strapped over his left shoulder like a cloak. Dom Slayer would have mistaken for another human were it not for the ears.

"Captain Korhil is right." Teclis answered, shooting down the Korhil's presumed status. "We cannot make progress unless we cease further tension within the court. But what Imrik speaks of is valid to a degree. I did recieve Finubar's will shortly after his death. However, he entrusted me to ensure that his will had been fulfilled under certain conditions."

The princes around him were whispering among themselves as he explained himself. Imrik hinted smug underneath that smirk of his. His judgement was true... for now.

"What did his will entail?" One prince asked. Teclis paused a bit before speaking to the crowd.

"His first task was to bring Malekith - the Witch-King of Naggaroth - to be brought to Ulthuan and be put on trial for his crimes against the Asur." Teclis answered. This was met with disbelief and skepticism as the crowd scoffed at the impossible task set by their king.

"Tsk. Unlikely to ever happened." Imrik responded, to which the princes agreed. "No one has ever dared bring Malekith to justice. He is a powerful sorcerer, and one who will not easily go down without a fight. And let's not forget the army he controls: the Druchii."

Imrik looked to every prince without a hint of hesitation.

"Since the Sundering, these savages divided our people for the sake of power; slaughtered our own in the name of their 'king'; and plotted for years and years endlessly until Malekith finally takes his birthright as 'Phoenix King'. Even if he was brought here, then how can we ensure that he is restrained without his power?"

The princes unanimously agreed with the Caledorian. Teclis, however, remained impassive and continued.

"King Finubar had already made a contingency plan to see it through. Which is why he added another task to his will."

What was the other, Prince Teclis?" Korhil asked. Teclis looked back at Doom Slayer, who was leaning back on one of the pillars of the court and gestured him to appear before the crowd. Doom Slayer stood back up and walked to the center of the assembly. Many backed away as they noted his intimidating visage and approach towards them as Teclis gestured. Doom Slayer stood next to the loremaster and looked around the room as the court began whispering amongst themselves.

"Presenting to the Phoenix Court is our solution: Doom Slayer. Along with his unseen companion, Dr. Samuel Hayden." Teclis announced. The court looked to themselves suspicious by his overall appearance. However, Hayden spoke up to silence the crowd.

"It is an honor to be among proud people."Hayden greeted. The crowd continuously whispered among themselves. Imrik smirked as if humored.

"This must be some sort of odd jest you have, Teclis." Imrik taunted. "How do you expect me take to take this stranger seriously when he's not even a dwarf? He has little in common with them save for the title. Just where exactly is the hideous beard and ugly haircut?"

Some of the court members laughed to themselves. Doom Slayer tilted his head in confusion.

"No idea what you're on about, prince.Did a dragon drop you on the head as a child when you were on your first flight? Clearly, much of it hasn't been there since."Hayden retorted. Imrik was taken aback by Hayden's surprisingly quick - if childish - comeback. It was enough to anger the prince, though.

Much to Teclis' delight.

"You dare insult a prince of Caledor in front of the Phoenix Court?! Such slander will be punished severely!" Imrik threatened.

"And what will you do? Punish us with a song of ice and fire? Didn't do so well, last season."Hayden retorted, which - while confusing for the Court - only infuriated the dragon prince even more. Teclis was quick to step in front of Doom Slayer, despite being more than capable of defending himself on his own.

"You will not bring harm to this warrior, Imrik of Caledor!" Teclis issued. "It is by the King's final will that the Doom Slayer is to bring the Witch-King to Ulthuan! Any who object will be directly going against the king's final orders!"

The crowd began to talk among themselves, shocked by this new development. Imrik, however, soon backed off but remained contemptuous for the duration of the assembly. Doom Slayer could see Tyrion surprisingly pleased by Hayden's saving grace. Many stared at Doom Slayer with apprehension, initially. However, Korhil was the first to speak up.

"...If what Teclis speaks is true, then it is our duty to uphold our king's will. Any objections?" The court grew silent. Wary, but unobjective. Teclis beamed with relief. Korhil looked back at the Loremaster

"Then I suppose we would want a proper introduction from your companion." Korhil suggested. The court then looked to their new visitor. Doom Slayer was a man of no words. Hayden, on the other hand, was the opposite.

"I am Dr. Samuel Hayden, and the man that stands before you is the Doom Slayer. And we have come from another world... to save yours..."

More boring exposition later...

After Haydenfinallyfinished sharing stories and exploits, there was a mix-bag of reactions among the court. Some were slightly invested in Hayden's scientific discoveries and technological benefits - not to mention just how revolutionary Hayden was considering that has now transcended from his physical form to something entirely unseen yet present as a mere voice - as well as perhaps allowing Doom Slayer to be in their auxiliaries, while others remained skeptical and hesitant about Hayden's research and the Slayer's abilities. And a few like Prince Imrik scoffed at them for being nothing more than charlatans.

It wasn't Hayden mentioned the demons invading Earth did the court went silent. Many wondered just how large the invading force reached beyond their existing world. Some have even taken to reconsider aiding Hayden, if only a tad bit.

But for Doom Slayer, it wasfinallyover.

He was sick of standing in the middle of that room. Being gawked at like some sort of newly-discovered fossil hardly phased him, but just trying to remain still was agonising.

Fortunately, the court had finally been put to rest and the princes were left to their own devices. Tyrion, Teclis, and Korhil were the only ones left standing besides Doom Slayer.

"I must admit, Hayden. Your world is vastly superior compared to the humans here. Maybe moreso than ours. And you definitely shut Imrik up for once." Korhil complimented.

"Thanks. We have been on a long road to making progress without the help of dwarves and elves. And substantially evolved far more than our counterparts."

"Still, I find it hard to believe that neither our peoples nor the dwarfs exist in your reality. They didn't go extinct, did they?" Korhil asked, slightly concerned.

"Negative. Only humans have ever existed. And so did magic."

"And yet, you managed to be every bit resourceful in regards to your engineering and revolutionary inventions." Teclis regarded. "The most advanced we've had is the use of steam-powered engines and gunpowered. And that's humans alone."

"Which is telling that you are a threat to Ulthuan." Tyrion aded, much to his brother's displeasure. "Even if it is true, the last thing the Asur needs is a another great power to rival us besides Chaos. In other words, it only justifies my distrust for allowing you two to be welcomed here in the first place."

"Your faith in us is truly astounding, Prince Tyrion."Hayden dryly remarked."You do forget with the Legions of Hell attacking Earth, we are far from commiting war crimes against this little island - and by the extension the rest of the world - it would be beneficial to combine our resources and commit to diplomacy rather than conquering another world."

"Tsk. That remains to be seen." Tyrion scoffed. "I have had enough parleying with you today. I'm off to serving other greater purposes. This discussion is over."

The prince exited out of the room. Teclis shaked in disapproval while Korhil waved offhandedly.

"Bah. Don't let him get to you." Korhil assured. "He can be a real pain in the ass, but he's a damn good fighter, that one. Saved all of Ulthuan. And especially the Everqueen." The White Lion casted a wink back at Doom Slayer, prompting to raise an eyebrow. "Besides, he's practically nicer once you meet Eltharion."

"So we've been told."Hayden replied. Korhil casually shrugged.

"Well, at least you're well-informed. But as much as I like to continue on, I also got business elsewhere. Take care, Slayer. Loremaster."

"Farewell, Korhil." Teclis replied, with Korhil exiting the court. Doom Slayer looked back at Teclis, waiting for what he had to say.

"I hope that's the end of it. If I had my old body, I probably would've felt long-winded with that entire speech."

"Well, actually, there's just one more thing that I have to do." Teclis responded. Doom Slayer could only throw his hands in the air in frustration. However, Teclis was quick to explain the predicament.

"Wait, wait! Allow me to finish!" Teclis urged. "I haven't exactly told you everything about the assembly, and it is rather repetitive of me to do so, but it will relate to your next goal."

"Do tell."Hayden said. Teclis straightened himself up a bit before sharing. As it was last night, the Loremaster summoned a dome over them to block contact outside.

"While I was sending word to the princes, there was one in particular that I've tried to make contact with. His name is Alith Anar, or the Shadow King, as he goes by nowadays. He's currently waging a guerilla war with the Druchii in Nagarythe; blocking their means of access. Most of the time."

"Nagarythe? You mean Naggaroth?"Hayden asked, genuinely confused by the mixed names.

"The former, actually. Nagarythe is a kingdom of Ulthuan. Naggaroth was named after the former homelands of the Druchii. They were once allies with Ulthuan before the Sundering happened. Now, it's nothing more than a land full of swamps and death. What's left of the kingdom is comprised of specially-trained Asur known as Shadow Warriors. And Prince Anar happens to be in command of them."

"And he'll be our guide, am I correct?"

"Indeed. He know's more of the Druchii territories than any other Asur. Even myself. However, it will take some time before my message gets to him, it seems. Which means you won't be staying here, fortunately. I can send some guards to escort you out."

"Actually, before we go, there's one question I've been meaning to ask.Back at the inn, an assassin attempted to kill him in his sleep. However, my diagnosis of it revealed to be a... rodent. Any idea what it is?"Hayden questioned. Teclis sighed in irritation, but not towards the question.

"Ugh. A skaven, or 'ratman' in the human tongue. Nefarious little beasties that plague all over the world. Cowardly but vile creatures who have caused untold horrors to the surface world. Their vast empire is beneath our feet as we speak. Sadly, many have scoffed them as urban legends. It's especially notorious in the Empire of Man. The lowborns are ignorant of their existence while the Emperor and his entrusted advisors do their best to suppress it in order to avoid societal collapse."

"A conspiracy detrimental to the well-being."Hayden remarked.

"Better than outright disorder." Teclis countered. "I would rather have them alive than be one ally short of a defense against Chaos. However, they're not the only ones who are being plagued by them. The dwarfs wage war with them on a constant basis. I even heard about a threeway war between the dwarfs, the night goblins, and the skaven. And in the south, the Lizardmen continue to fight them as we speak. Heed my worre, never underestimate them. They are just as dangerous as the endless horde of Chaos. You might want to put them on your radar. The assassin was the first of many."

"Hmm. This world certainly has its charm. I will have to learn more about this, eventually. That will be all. Thank you, Teclis."

"It's always a pleasure to share a curious mind." Teclis gestured a magical sign and the dome disappeared after. "Now then, I'll have the guards escort you, right away."

Doom Slayer raised a hand and shaked his head in response.

"I believe he knows hisway out of here."Hayden answered. Teclis shrugged.

"Fine by me. Take care, Doom Slayer. Dr. Hayden."

"Loremaster."Doom Slayer walked out, leaving the Loremaster alone.

Walking his way down the halls, he had taken the leisure to look up the stained glass windows that were framed above him.

History written in glass. Unity, division, war, and collapse.

The hallmarks of a dying empire. An all too familiar setting.

"Reminds you of anything?"Hayden asked his companion. Doom Slayer snorted, dismissively in turn.

"No offense. You're homesick. We both are."Hayden added, sympathetically. Slayer only sighed after.

As he continued, a peculiar but familiar sight caught his eyes. Doom Slayer stopped in his tracks.

Just around the corner, a furry little critter appeared.

It stood up in its hindlegs, as if anticipating his approach. Its ears reaching upwards above its head to sense passerbys. The cream colour of its fur stuck out against the monotone white corridors and floor. Its sights landed upon Doom Slayer. He stood frozen from his place; his heart almost skipping a beat.

It was a rabbit.

Doom Slayer wondered if he was relapsing back to his hallucinations again or not. Hayden's voice snapped him out, however, and placed him back into reality.

"Hmph. The guards seem to have grown complacent with 'visitors', have they now?"Hayden remarked. The rabbit began slowly hopping its way to the man. Doom Slayer knelt down as it got closer. The rabbit stopped and stared hesitantly at him. Slayer reached out a hand slowly towards it, making it back up a bit. However, after a few moments of hesitation, it began sniffing his hand. Sensing no harm from him, the rabbit placed its head on the hand, allowing him to rub its chin a bit. He then scooped it up and carefully cradled it around his arm. The rabbit didn't struggle and remained comfortable in its position. It amused Hayden as he observed the whole scene.

"Heh. I almost forgot you're very soft on the inside at times. Not really important, but I've scanned the rabbit and it's a female. Though, I doubt her name happens to be-"

"Althena!" Doom Slayer looked up as heard a voice calling. Said voice was from a woman who was calling out for someone. He walked to who it was calling. Just right around where the rabbit was, stood an elven girl. She had been looking opposite of where Doom Slayer was - her back in front of him - but based on her voice, he could tell she was worried. The gears kicked in his head and realized she was more than likely looking for the rabbit.

"Come on, girl, where are you? Althie?" She called out again. Hayden announced their presence.

"I believe this rabbit is yours, young lady?"Hayden said. The elf turned around and Doom Slayer recognized her as the girl from the funeral, standing next to the Everqueen.

The king's daughter.

The princess was startled by the appearance of Doom Slayer and then horror as she saw her rabbit in his hands. She stood frozen as they made eye contact. Sensing how intimidating his appearance was, he slowly approached her and gestured her to take the rabbit. The princess looked surprised but carefully took Althena off his hands. She carefully inspected the rabbit, and was relieved to find her unharmed.

"Good girl..." She said, petting her. Although, she remained sullen as she comfort her pet.

"I can't afford to lose you as well..."

She then looked up at the marine, who stared silently with a blank expression. It made her a little uncomfortable, but was grateful of him.

"T-Thank you..." She said, shyly. "I was not expecting such a kind gesture from a strange visitor. Not even when he is a guest of Prince Teclis."

"Guests, actually."Hayden corrected, much to the girl's surprise."And who might you be?"

"I am Aliathra, daughter of King Finubar and Alarielle the Everqueen. And I am their Everchild." She then held up her rabbit with pride. "And this little troublemaker is Althena! Or Althie as I like to call her."

"An honor to stand in your presence. I am Dr. Samuel Hayden, but the man standing before you is Doom Slayer. I am merely a stand-in for his voice."

"Oh? I didn't know there were two of you! But I am pleased to meet you both." She said, before bowing. All while carefully holding Althena in her arms.

"Although, I'm a tad confused: how are you a slayer?" Aliathra asked, further inspecting Doom Slayer's armor. The marine seemed puzzled as he tilted his head. "You don't... look like a dwarf. I would be expecting one to be shirtless, wield dual axes, and have a fiery mohawk. You're the first one I've known outside dwarf customs to take up the title. Are you perhaps looking up to pay amends through death?"

"Quite the opposite, actually. Far too angry to die."Hayden answered."You'll have to forgive the lack of knowledge but we have only been here since last night. Although, such information could be quite beneficial. It would help us in the future."

"Well, I am deeply fascinated with Dwarfen culture. Father used to talk about much of his travels. I am to partake an expedition to one of their keeps as well. Although, I still have plenty of time packing things so I could pass on what I know. Which is several, in fact."

"All the more to know, I'll say."

"Aliathra!" Another voice called out. This time it was recognizable. Both looked back to where the Everchild had come from. And within view was Tyrion, whose mood turned sour... again.

"Aliathra! Stay away from him!" Tyrion rushed towards the Everchild, and stood in between her and Doom Slayer.

"What were you doing with her? Explain!" Tyrion demanded. Doom Slayer kept quiet as usual, but kept a permanent glare at the scowling prince. Hayden proved to be useful as always.

"Nothing. We were just leaving. She happened to lose her rabbit and we returned it to her. That's all there is."

"It's true, uncle Tyrion. I just lost Althie, that's all." Aliathra defended. Tyrion never took his eyes off the Slayer, but spoke calmly to the Everchild.

"Aliathra, go find your mother. She's worried sick."

"No need for that, Tyrion." A third voice came in. Standing behind the two Asur was a far more extravagant sight. Walking towards the three was a figure of high importance. Dressed in a lavish but earthly-colored clothing, full of heart emblems and silk, the Everqueen was stunning. Behind her, a semblance of warrior women followed their queen. A steely gaze set upon her brow, yet warmth revealed itself on her lips. This was an authority none shall question, and one that Doom Slayer would respect.

The Everqueen approached the three with grace and fluidity.

"There is no need for hostility, my dear Tyrion." She said, her words calming and lovingly enough to make the prince stand down. "Your brother's 'guests' has stirred up quite a fuss among the court. Although, it is quite some time since we have had a unique visitor. But where are my manners? I am Alarielle. Everqueen of Ulthuan and Chosen of Isha. I bid you welcome to our lands, esteemed guests. And there is no need of you to introduce yourselves. I have been informed of your identities."

"It is a great honor to make your acquaitance, Everqueen."Hayden greeted in respect. Doom Slayer, instinctively, bowed to her. This took Tyrion and Hayden by surprise; not expecting the gesture be shown by the marine. Alarielle, however, smiled in gratitude.

"Likewise, Dr. Hayden." Alarielle replied. "I am pleased to meet you both."

Tyrion spoke up, after. "My lady, I would be careful with him. He's an anomaly here and I believe it's bes-"

Alarielle raised a hand, shutting Tyrion's words in a knot.

"There is no need for that, Tyrion. My handmaidens are there to serve their duties. However, I would like to know more about our estranged guests here than anything. I know a particular spot with a wonderful view. Care to join?"

Doom Slayer took a moment to himself. He thought no harm in it and nodded in acceptance. Alarielle seemed pleased by it.

"Excellent!" She exclaimed. "Tyrion, I will handle this from now. You may leave us."

"But-"

"It's alright, Tyrion. There is nothing you should worry about. Aliathra, come."

"Yes, mother." Aliathra followed closely to the Everqueen, while Doom Slayer followed. The handmaidens kept their eyes on him as he tagged along.

Only Tyrion was left alone, contemplating in his thoughts.

"...What just happened?"

The Tower of Cold, Naggaroth

The Witch-King stood over the edge of his tower as he stared north of where the greatest threat existed for thousands of years.

Chaos.

Since the Twin-Tailed Comet, much of what happened recently had been... eventful.

Last night, out of nowhere, several of his subjects had transformed and twisted into Chaos-warped abominations in all of Naggaroth.

However, he likely suspected them all to be his mother's cultists. Morathi's Pleasure Cults were abundant in Druchii society despite his attempts to quash them under his fist.

That said, it was satisfying to know the cultists reveal themselves in plain view. His enforcers were more than happy to cut them down and seek their king's approval.

Of course, not all of them were cultists.

The Tyrant of Hag Graef, Malus Darkblade, was reported to have gone into a frenzied state in his tower and was on a rampage. Many of its residents had been slaughtered in wake of Malus' madness before several guards and heavy support detained him. Even then, more had lost their lives putting him on ice.

In truth, Malekith knew that it was the demon inside Malus - Tz'arkan - that caused the incident. Malus was his champion and trusted confidante, and sent him a steady supply of elixirs to keep him at bay with his literal daemon.

From what he gathered, many had reported of the Tyrant screaming incoherent words save for one name. Doom Slayer.

Malekith was... absolutely baffled. A dwarf was what caused this whole hysteria in the first place? This had to be very absurd. He's seen plenty of dwarfen slayers before but nothing in the way that could be considered a wide-scale threat.

Except for maybe that one dwarf named Gotrek he's often heard about.

Nonetheless, he ordered his guards to retrieve him so as to investigate further, and even sent Hellebron to personally take him in.

He continued to stare at the endless void of the north. The Witch-King could sense a looming threat over his people. The End Times were upon them. When is another matter on its own.

"I made it quite clear that you would never set foot in my tower... Morathi.

The Witch-King needed not turn his back when the Hag-Sorceress arrived. The feint burst of magic was enough to detect even if scant. He could already feel her dark lips grinning insidiously behind him as he stood impassively by the his balcony.

"My dearest Malekith, is that how you would treat your own mother?" She asked sweetly. Her son, however, saw through the deceptions and scoffed her.

"Your honeyed words work only on the weak-willed. I am not. Speak plainly."Malekith made no effort hiding his disdain for her. Morathi's smile faltered. While not quite angry, she had grown frosty in her expression.

"Is it ever wrong for a mother to visit her own blood? Perhaps she wanted to mend bridges." She sulked. "Maybe offer counsel in this lonely towers."

"Doubtful they would be of any relief."He quipped."What words you carry? Speak... and I may be forgiving of you for intruding my home."

Morathi breathed deeply before sharing.

"Times are changing, as you have noticed." Morathi started. "The worshippers of Chaos have revealed themselves so openly in our lands. The Druchii are begginning to question their king's abilities to stamp them out. That king being... you."

"And yet those worshippers happened to be part of your cult, if I'm not mistaken."Malekith remarked."Said followers, in fact, have exposed themselves as weak, gibbering, wastes of skin for unexplained reasons. Shame that you weren't one of them."Malekith turned his back from the view and towards his mother, whose eyes were now slightly twitching, noticeably. She still kept her emotions well hidden, however, despite her infamous temper.

"Maybe so, but they were weak to be of any fortitude. The Druchii do not allow weakness in our grand kingdom. Those who survived are much stronger."

"Yes. Like unending parasites."Morathi's grin flattened to a scowl. Malekith could not care if it offended her."What else is there that I already have known?"

Morathi was ready to burst into flames at the indignation, but held her tongue in exchange for a cool head.

"The hordes of Chaos are coming to Naggaroth. But you knew that already, haven't you?"

"Acutely."He admitted."But that is enough to raise the defenses... though, I sense you are not telling me everything... mother."

Morathi smirked, hinting satisfaction of her familial pride.

"How insightful of you. But I believe Darkblade would fill you in."

By impeccable timing, the guards returned with Malus in tow. He had been shackled and restrained in heavy chains and collared by mancatchers. His mouth had been gagged with a simple iron bar and chain wrapped around it. It was unknown whether he had calmed down or was still possessed. Though, his head had turned white, which was telling.

Leading this display was none other than Crone Hellebron.

The Blood Queen of Har Ganeth herself.

Alongside her were the infamous Executioners and Witch Elves, who eyed at the daemon-possessed drachau with raised weapons at bay.

Hellebron kept her attention towards the Witch-King, though slightly soured by the appearance of the Hag-Sorceress herself standing beside him. Despite the mask hiding her features, Malekith could tell the burning anger in her withered lips. He was well-aware of their blood-fuelled rivalry, but saw it beneath his notice. His attention was on Malus.

"My King, it is an honor to have an audience with you. I have brought Malus Darkblade as requested." Hellebron announced. "How may I further assist you?"

"Your service has been valued, Hellebron."Malekith said in gratitude."But I have no further need."

The Witch King slowly approached the bound drachau, with Hellebron and the rest of her contingent making room for him. As Malekith got closer, the executioners readied their blades in anticipation of any further assault from the possessed Darkblade.

The Witch-King finally stood over Malus, head laid low at his feet. The eerie stillness made everyone tense save for Malekith, Morathi and Hellebron. Malekith slowly released the gag from Malus' head and cast it aside. Nothing had happened so far, but the Witch-King was ready for any provocations in bound.

Within five seconds, the possessed Malus launched from his feet at blinding speeds; hair turning white and eyes black as the void. He made an attempt to bite Malekith's neck. The guards holding him down were not quick enough to restrain him and struggled to keep him down due to his enhanced strength. The Witch-King, however, was far quicker.

In an instant, Malekith grabbed Tz'arkan by the neck and held him above. His legs were kicking in the air in a futile attempt to lash out. His only other action was screaming and wailing.

And the reports being accurate were an understatement.

"THE DOOM SLAYER HAS COME FOR CHAOS! HE HAS RETURNED TO REAP THE GODS FROM THEIR THRONES! AND THE HELL WALKER SHALL RIP AND TEAR THEM AND RAZE THEIR CORPSES! FOR HE WILL DESTROY ALL WHO DARE OPPOSE HIM! FLEE! ALL OF YOU!"

The mad ravings had startled many in the room. Even the executions were every bit disturbed underneath their cold exterior. Hellebron looked unsettled while Morathi remained steely, though shared her hated enemy's disturbance. Malekith, meanwhile, remained calm and had no issue with the daemon's struggles.

"They were certainly right about you, daemon. Youtrulyhave gone mad. Even by the standards of your kind."

"TO HELL WITH YOUR WORDS, PUPPET!"The daemon lashed out."YOU STATUS OF POWER IS NOTHING IN THE FACE OF THE DESTROYER HIMSELF! YOU ARE BUT AN INSECT AGAINST HIS MIGHT!"

Seething with anger at the barrage of insults, Malekith slammed the possessed-Malus to the floor. The ground shaked upon impacf causing many of the guards to topple.

Malekith held the daemon in place; hand still by his throat.

"Dare insult me again and you will meet this... Doom Slayer... sooner."He threatened. Tz'arkan stayed silent but bared his teeth in defiance. Malekith grinned under his mask in satisfaction.

"Good. Now that's been cleared, I would prefer that you would be quite co-operative and tell me of the one known as Doom Slayer."

Malekith slowly, and carefully, let go of Tz'arkan from his grasp. The daemon attempted to stand up as well, but the Witch-King stopped him from going any further from the knees.

"You will remain on your otherwise unless told otherwise."Malekith warned. Tz'arkan remained compliant, much to everyone's surprise. The Witch-King ordered his servants save for Morathi and Hellebron to leave. They all did as told for fear of invoking his wrath.

"Good. Now that's been done with, speak."

Tz'arkan, like many daemons of Slaanesh, changed to a politeful - if wary - tone.

"...What is it that you desire to know?"

Malekith leaned closer when asked of him.

"Everything."

To be continued...

Chapter 4: Blood in the Waters

Chapter Text

The Sea of Chaos

Viktur stared off at the endless sea as he leaned on his ship's railings. The constance of waves crashing underneath the hulls and splashing his raven hair while the smell of salt hanged in the air was an acquired taste for many on their first voyage. But for him, he was born for such an environment.

And since he lived the life of a corsair like his fathers and his fathers' fathers before him, the career was both a fitting and profitable experience. Especially for an ambitious Druchii looking to sail his own Black Ark.

However, his ship - a Galleon outfitted with Reaper ballistae and cannons and now repurposed for piracy that he "willingly" taken off from the Bretonnians - was serviceable enough. The crew were carrying their duties, making sure the ship was taking its course to Araby. All while attempting to avoid the shores of Ulthuan.

Emphasis on "attempt" as he was still indecisive on whether or not to plunder a port just for the hell of it.

"Ah, I might as well let the boys have their fun." He told himself.

Besides them, there were the slaves who did their chores thoroughly. One slave made the mistake of spilled a bottle of excellent wine onto the lower decks and was strapped to the front of the ship to be keelhauled to death the other day. This ensured the others to stay in line lest they be made an example like the poor soul.

He took a bite of his apple - a rare treat as far as corsair raids have provided - and walked back to the main deck. Plenty of activity going on the ship. He passed by a dwarfen slave scrubbing the floors and a couple of the shipmates pulling and rigging on the masts. His first mate greeted him.

"Captain."

"Sindric! How is our crew? Is our course scheduled as planned?" Viktur asked, cheerfully. His first mate politely smiled and answered.

"Crew is fine, Captain. We have plenty of supplies and we will be near Ulthuan at the dead of night. The boys have been relieving themselves with the "maiden" in the lower decks. Although, they're asking if we could get more women once we arrive to Araby. They've grown tired of sharing. Plus, they're getting a little tensed up, especially knowing that we'll be heading near Ulthuan territory. We won't get there until tonight if our navigator has told us otherwise."

Viktur raised an eyebrow at the seeming demands given by them.

"We?We?Do they realize who they're speaking to?" Viktur reminded, sternly. Sidric remained silent but looked visibly uncomfortable to answer.

"W-Well Captain, they may have been simpl-"

"I'm jesting!" Viktur joked, dawning a smile to ease his First Mate's reaction. "I am a charitable man to my crew! They grow restless and it's about time we start lighten up the place for once."

Viktur looked to the rest of the ship and began a speech.

"Attention!" He announced, stopping his crew from their duties, temporarily.

"Crew, I have recieved your complaints! And they are most well recieved! We are headed close to our most hated cousin! I have given some time to think and I have decided that we will raid a town! We will plunder their riches and slaughter them like cattle in the name of Khaine! Tonight, we will make the Druchii back home proud! And I promise that we will get the greatest pleasures Araby can provide! For I, Viktur of House Bloodsong; Captain of theFaded Silence, rewards all!"

The crew cheered with malicious glee and hollered for the blood of the Asur. Viktur smirked at their praises, but no less appreciative of their dedication.

"Now get back to work! Lest you desire all of us to sleep with the sirens of the sea!" Viktur finished, with the crew laughing before going back to their business.

"My, My, Viktur." An alluring voice struck out. "You do know how to spoil them!"

Walking in from the shadows, strode a sorceress. Beautiful to the eye of the beholder, but cold as the breathe of Naggaroth. Her pale complexion exposed save for the metal bra and soft black fabrics that barely covered her sultry figure. She had taken his breath since they were born under the same night and shared their crib with one another, and then the bed as they grew older. His crew eyed her with carnal lust, but knew better than to approach her.

Moreso knowing that it was Saressa, the twin sister of Viktur Bloodsong, and they steered clear of her for that reason alone.

Anyone who had the misfortune of even so much as speak to her ran afoul with her brother. They were lucky that he allowed them to gaze upon her. Otherwise, they'd be dropping like flies in just a few minutes.

"Well, it is time that I throw a bone for them, Saressa. Wouldn't want any displeasure from a mutiny." He replied. Saresh smiled and closed on him with a passionate kiss, before biting on his bottom lip with vigour.

"Then, start spoiling me as well." She teased, before grabbing his crotch suggestively. Viktur grabbed her ass in response with a tight squeeze, while Sindric waited by uncomfortably as he watched the siblings grope each other in public. This took about a couple of minutes before Viktur stopped midway and realized something.

"Oh! I just realized that I needed to do something!" He exclaimed, much to Saressa's displeasure and annoyance.

Viktur looked back to Sindric, who patiently waited for his Captain's orders.

"I'll be below the decks to announce the maiden's... 'early retirement.'"

"As you will it, Captain." Sindric replied, amicably. Viktur then set his attention to his sister who began pouting.

"Why are you giving that whor* so much attention now? She is beneath you."

"Indeed. But I do honor my words to the letter if I can help it, dearest sister!" Viktur replied. Saressa rolled her eyes, before leaning in his ear.

"I'll be in the captain's quarters." She whispered, before licking fondly at his ear. The captain felt hard again, but needed to get his priorities done quickly. He departed and headed below the decks. Several crewmembers and slaves moved aside to give him room, allowing him to maneuver through the tight corridors. He entered the lower decks, waving to a couple of his crewmembers before standing in front of the door where a guardsman stood up from his seat and closed a book on the table.

"Captain."

"Taryn!" Viktur greeted. "How's the maiden?"

"She's gone quiet. Boys might've roughed her up a bit." Taryn answered. "I think they might have broken her."

"Tsk. Tsk. That's no good." Viktur said with dismay. "Then how am I supposed to keep the boys settled when they have no toy left to play?"

Viktur frowned. "Let me in."

"Right away, sir." The guardsman opened the door to the maiden's "chamber". Stepping in, Viktur entered and found himself in nothing more than a filthy room full of dried blood and waste. Sitting around the corner was the maiden.

A Bretonnian woman. Once, she had fine ruby hair contrasting her porcelain skin and jade-coloured eyes, with the body of a queen lowered only beneath the Hag-Sorceress herself. Her breasts were plump and hips made for child-bearing, it was like holding a prized swine with her around.

Now, she laid on the floor like a shriveling corpse. Gaunt and suffering from malnutrition, the past four months had not been kind to her. The amount of drugs injected into her and her diet being nothing but scraps and leftovers, along with... bodily fluids was a testament that she could survive this long.

She was in a cradling position by the time he stood over. Her back was exposed with several cuts and lashes and plenty of bite marks around her skin. He saw a couple of fingernails planted deep within the board and couple of teeth loose on the floor.

She remained still, almost as if dead. However, a small nudge from his boot was all it took for her to faintly flinch upon reaction. Viktur smiled in relief.

"Ah good, you're alive!" He said. "I'm so glad to tell you that your service is no longer needed once we arrived in Araby. From there, you'll be dropped off and hopefully sold off for a small sum! I hope my crew hadn't been too rough with you. You know how they are. Always in need of relieving themselves somehow. But I assure you that this we will be all over once we get to the continent."

He kneeled down and leaned closer to her.

"Oh, don't be so dour. You've made it this far. Perhaps you'll find a new husband in a sultan." He reassured, as he gently moved the hairs away to see a glimpse of her face.

About as dead as a door nail if her expression was to go by.

This, however, did not dissuade him from being a gentleman.

"Speaking of husbands, it seems your former betrothed has finally decided to accompany you after all..."

Viktur took a glance back to one corner of the room. Sitting in the other corner, was the pickled head of a dearly beloved in a jar. One eye remained open as if to watch over her. He sneered at the practical joke he invented for his and everyone's amusem*nt. He stood up, patting his legs from whatever dust was clinging onto him and made his farewells.

"Well then, that's all I have to say to you. It was certainly... a pleasure... to have you on board."

Knocking on the door again, the guard opened and Viktur soon exited the room.

After he had finally left, tears flowed out of the maiden's eyes.

Lothern, Ulthuan

Alarielle studied Doom Slayer's behavior as he sat across her.

For a man of his stature, he was surprising calm and well-mannered. She would have thought him to be a bit more... menacing around others. Granted, he was already with his eccentric appearance alone, especially since the funeral. But other than that, he seemed oddly curious. Curious about the life around him. From the noise of the denizens of Lothern to the unusual contrapions brought about from the Empire to the festivities surrounding the market. A sense of wonder, it seems. Likewise, onlookers stared wide-eyed at the Everqueen's entourage as they passed by several streets.

More specifically, Doom Slayer with the Everqueen's entourage.

To be frank, he stood out like an eyesore. His admittedly earthly but darker-coloured armor stood in contrast to the bright colours of both the handmaidens' and her own clothing. And that's not to mention how towering he was compared to the rest of her guard.

And those eyes. She had seen that kind of stare from plenty of her kin that served on the line of duty. Loss, anger, pain. She had even seen it in Tyrion and Eltharion as well. The latter especially when he had return from one of his campaign against the greenskins.

She wondered what went inside the Slayer's mind.

However, his polite demeanour and fast friendship with her daughter ultimately won her appeal.

In the present, they sat in the gardens somewhere in the upper levels of the city. From there, a great view of the port greeted them. They were on a patio secluded from the rest of the public's eye. Alarielle and her daughter sat on one side of the table while Doom Slayer sat opposite of them.

While it was admittedly just to get know her guest further, her true intentions were to understand the anomaly surrounding him. His presence was no coincidence when she felt the strange surge of magic eclipsed her mind, last night. The nature around her rejuvenated her domain with renewed life, unexpectedly.

And now the answers she had been searching for were sitting in right front of her.

She had to thank Teclis for bringing a blessing to the worlde.

"If I may interrupt your thoughts, Everqueen..."The voice known as Samuel Hayden started."But is there something on your mind that you would like to ask of us? You left us hanging in silence for a moment."

The question brought her back to reality and she now realized that she been staring at the Slayer for an uncomfortably long time. Aliathra was sitting next to her with her Althena on her lap and she too felt awkward about her mother's She quickly shaked her head off and composed herself.

"O-Oh right! Excuse me." She excused. "Much apologies. I'm still getting used to the appearance of your companion's armor. Very unusual, yet unique even by either human or dwarfen standards. Such remarkable designs. Forgive my starry eyes."

Doom Slayer shrugged.

"None taken, he says."Hayden added. Alarielle peaked an eyebrow a bit.

"Do you... speak for him, Dr. Hayden?" She asked.

"I do, in fact."Hayden answered."Ages have passed since he had lost his voice. It was before my time. So you'll have to excuse the occasional silent treatment and sign language. I have to roughly interpret his words in a way for you and others to understand."

"That's terrible!" Aliathra exclaimed. "I would've liked to know what your voice sounds like! Must be hard to be understood by a lot of people."

"Aliathra!" Alarielle admonished. "That's no way to treat our guest!"

"Sorry, mother..." Aliathra apologized. This only emitted a faint laughter from the doctor.

"Heh. There's no need to. He isn't exactly the most approachable person as I have known, first hand. Most people usually stay from a distance away from him. Of course, he's far more interested in being on the battlefield than standing idle and chatter while listening onto a bunch of nobles bicker for hours about miniscule politics."

Alarielle was briefly taken aback by the bold words flowing out of the unseen doctor, but smirked in agreement.

"Hmm. I can certainly agree with such a statement, even if it is a bit blashpemous to speak in front of the Everqueen, doctor."

"Apologies. Much of my impressions of the princes were... low."

"No need. I, too, do dislike the politics within the Phoenix Court. Fortunately, such things are beneath the duties of an Everqueen."

"Interesting. Care to explain what duties an Everqueen upholds?"

"Gladly." Alarielle said. "An Everqueen, first and foremost, represents Isha, the Goddess of Life and Protector of the Natural Order. It is a high position not unlike a Phoenix King. One of importance but that's where the similarities ends, really. Unlike the Phoenix King, the position of an Everqueen is hereditary rather than voted among the Court. So naturally, my daughter Aliathra would be the next Everqueen."

"Curious way of changing representatives.One side done democratically, the other passed down by blood. One focused on political order; the other, the natural order. Astrange union, if there ever was one."

Such a remark brought amusem*nt to Alarielle.

"My, you're awfully curious of the world's surroundings."

"I'm a researcher."Hayden replied."My goal is to find any resources that could be of beneficial use. Right now, my world has dried up its own natural resources, and are currently in the stages of what could be considered a... 'famine'... if you will."

Alarielle's smile quickly turned into frown immediately.

"Oh... I'm terribly sorry. I nearly forgot you come from a desperate world. Forgive my manners."

"None taken. What I've gathered might yield plenty of excellent results, and Teclis has mentioned other scientific minds who are willing to trade such vital intel. Mages, I've been told."

"Yes. You are correct." Alarielle said. "Although, I am more than willing to help as well. I am a Chosen of Isha. And as such, my abilities could heal the old wounds of your world."

"I would be glad of your assistance then, Everqueen."Hayden said, appreciatively

"Please, call me Alarielle. There's no need for such formalities."

"If you insist... Alarielle."Alarielle perked up appreciatively with Hayden's quick acceptance. Discussion was soon interrupted when Aliathra's pet rabbit jumped off from her lap and hopped over to Doom Slayer's.

Aliathra attempted to stop but turned silent as she saw him craddle her in his arm and stroke her fur softly and caringly in a manner that would be seen in many rabbit handlers. Alarielle too was alarmed by this as well. Yet, both were pleased and touched by the tender display.

"Oh! I had not known the Slayer to display such affection for such wonderous creatures." Alarielle remarked, watching Althena rest on Doom Slayer's arm. Aliathra watched in awe of the display.

"He... used to have a pet rabbit at one point. Daisy, her name was."Hayden explained.

"Oh, what happened to her?" Alarielle asked.

"She died."Alarielle and her daughter drooped their ears in dismay of hearing his pet's death. The Everqueen didn't want to ask further as it was more likely sensitive to the Doom Slayer.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." Alarielle said. Doom Slayer responded with a nod in appreciation. He returned Althena back to Aliathra, carefully giving her into the Everchild's arms. Hayden soon spoke in the midst of it.

"Alarielle, with all due respect, we are very much honored to be in your presence but it seems there is something important that you would like to discuss."

Alarielle acted confused, but was well-aware, and played up the ignorance a bit.

"Are we already not discussing the importance of your stay here?"

"Maybe, but this story isn't about my research.It's about him, really."

Alarielle said nothing, but her smile changed to a flat but neutral position.

"Aliathra, would give us a moment to ourselves? I'll have the handmaidens watch over you."

"Yes, mother." Aliathra stood up from her seat and left to walk about. Alarielle gestured some of her haindmaidens to follow the Everchild, to which they complied. After they left, it was only Alarielle, Hayden, and Doom Slayer alone.

Alarielle took a deep breath and prepared herself.

"Your presence, Doom Slayer, has shifted the balance in the Winds of Magic. I brought you here for that reason alone."

"Why am I not surprised?"Hayden remarked. Alarielle shaked her head in dismissal.

"Please, Dr. Hayden. What I'm speaking about is certainly one of importance."

"And I meant no offense, Everqueen."Hayden replied."But continue."

Alarielle continued on where she left off.

"His arrival... is an omen. The Princes scoffed at you as if you were the Loremaster's new experiment, but I know you for what you are. I do not know how Teclis brought you here nor do I need to know as to why you are here. But what you bring... could change the very fate of this world."

Alarielle leaned in closer. "When I first saw you walking down the funeral... I sawDeathclose to you. TheRageinside of you was palpable.DestructionandVengeancefollow you like hounds to a master. I can see them in your eyes... so much pain behind them."

The Everqueen saw his eyes study her. She was not entirely sure if her words carried weight, but it would seem like he was contemplating her sympathies. His eyes closed and she could faintly hear him exhaling a sharp breath beneath his helm.

"It is not the first time he has recieved this kind of attention... nor it will be the last."Hayden answered.

"I understand." Alarielle placed a hand over the table and gestured him to give his.

"If I may..." Alarielle said. Doom Slayer stared at her hand for a few minutes, and slowly - if hesititantly - raised it over.

At a moment's touch, darkness enveloped her mind. And what came after wasHorror.

Premonitions of twisted monstrosities flooded her vision. They were not unlike the Daemons of Chaos; ravenous creatures fighting for power and ravaging millions of worlds to sate their hunger.

But they were in unison.Undivided.

Legions upon legions of hellish creatures united under a dark ruler. Each were distinct from one another yet reveled in the carnage they wrought. Small, wiry creatures snarled and clawed at whatever unfortunate soul met them; hulking beasts with skulls for heads crushed and trampled upon the weak as they lay siege upon worlds; undead abominations in constant agony throw fire with strange protrusions on their backs; while even larger and fiercer monsters with red skin and horns roared and destroyed all that stood in their way with sickly green fire and claw.

And yet they were only a fraction of what comprised their army.

The greatest of them all, however, stood taller than even the tallest monument built by any race. It's very nature symbolized the greatest evils that these...Demons... worshipped.

All of creation was in peril. Moreso than even Chaos could ever accomplish.

Yet, one stood alone against the endless hordes of evil. For they feared him the most.

He saw two worlds ravaged like countless others. His loved ones, his brothers-in-arms, his people, his home... gone. The last shred of his sanity left on the first world. Only rage followed. And it was suffocating him.

The loss was too much, and the Slayer drowned in his anger for a long time... until he found a new home.

The second world rebuilt him as a far stronger and more resilient man. His sanity returned and he had found brotherhood in this new home. He forged bonds with the greatest warriors; knighted by a king and fought side by side with them against the evils that returned.

And in time, was blessed by heavenly beings into something more...Divine.

He wastheChampion. Protectorate and Destroyer. The shield in defense of the innocent and sword to plunge the wicked. For he walked alone as the light in the eternal darkness.

It was only through the machinations of treachery and corruption did the cycle start anew.

And when his second world had fallen... he did not fall into despair. Neither anguish nor struggle overcome him. No longer was he drowning in the anger that festered on to him for so long.

In the formless sea of violence, where others drowned in bloodshed and war... he remained undeterred. And thrived in the vast ocean of blood.

He was calm before the storm, and rose above the surface.

For only one could face the coming tide.

And it was the very man who sat across her.

The visions soon stopped, and by the time Alarielle was able to make sense of her surroundings, she was on the ground with tear stains formed on her cheeks and blood pouring out of her nose.

Her breathing became heavy and frantic while her body trembled uncontrollably. By now, Doom Slayer and her handmaidens had surrounded her with worry and fear, with the latter looking directly at the former with no hesititation to kill him. Aliathra returned as well, with great worry and confusion in her expressions.

"Alarielle!" A voice called out. It was her beloved Tyrion, and behind him was Teclis. He rushed to her side with fear in his eyes.

"Are you alright?!" Tyrion asked, before looking back at Doom Slayer with blind anger.

"What did you to her?! Answer me, damn you!" He lashed out. The Slayer did not speak, but his eyes turned to that of a death stare, which did not break Tyrion's resolve as he met his gaze with renewed anger. Thankfully, it was Hayden who had answered.

"We had done nothing. She tried to see through his mind. Whatever she saw must have taken her by surprise. I could only fathom what she had seen. There are things even you don't know in your long lifespan."

Tyrion was about ready to retaliate and unleash his sword, only for his brother to stand in the way.

"Stop it, Tyrion!" Teclis demanded. "What Hayden speaks may be the truth!"

Tyrion was incensed by his brother's continued defense for the Slayer.

"Again and again, you continue to defend him whenever you have the chance even as the problems are there before you! Why must you turn your back on our people when he's done nothing but bring disaster since you summoned him?!"

"Because he's the last hope we have at stopping Chaos!" Teclis replied. "The wider world is at stake and he is our salvation!"

Both brothers stared down at one another. For a moment, it seemed like the bonds between them would break. But Teclis kept to his senses and became the voice of reason.

"We can't defend just Ulthuan any longer, brother. The End Times are upon us and we cannot survive this war unless we ally with the Empire, the Dwarfs, and even the Lizardmen. We cannot ignore the few options that we have left, and I intend to make sure that this world sees another light of day. With or without your help."

Tyrion struggled to comprehend his brother's reasoning. His patience for him was running thin and it was the last straw. Alarielle, however, came back to her senses and stood back up with the aid of a handmaiden by her side.

"T-Tyrion, please." She pleaded. "W-What Hayden speaks of is true. I took his hand and saw through his mind on my own. And what I saw... is something that you cannot imagine."

Alarielle looked back at Doom Slayer, pained by the experiences he went all this time.

"I-I am so sorry for what happened to you..." She said, mournfully. "You've lost so much so in your life. I cannot imagine the pain you've went through, all this time. But please know that you do not have to stand alone in this battle. The realms beyond are grateful for your actions, but let us stand with you. You need not walk this road alone... please."

The Slayer's gaze no longer hold of anger... but remorse.

He merely shaked his head in decline. He expressed little, but showed enough.

His attention turned to Teclis, who seemed guilt-ridden by all that happened.

"Has he arrived?"Hayden asked.

"Indeed... I'm here to collect you. A handmaiden had relayed a message to me to find you here. We'll be disembarking, shortly. Any words before we go?"

"Almost."Hayden replied. Doom Slayer instinctively turned towards the Everqueen.

"I am sorry that our conversation ended on a sour note, Everqueen. We will to continue this another time, I'm afraid. But understand that he prioritizes the safety for all. And he will stop at nothing to destroy the roots of all evil. Whether it be Chaos or Hell themselves."

"Then do what you must, Slayer." Alarielle parted. Doom Slayer nodded and turned to Teclis, who waited expectantly. Tyrion was about to protest but the Everqueen placed on his shoulder, stopping him from further confrontation.

"I'm sorry, Alarielle..." Teclis said with remorse, before magically teleporting alongside Doom Slayer. The two then vanished in a flash of light, leaving Alarielle, Tyrion, their daughter and the Handmaidens in the gardens. Alarielle dismissed her handmaidens.

"Mother... a-are you okay?" Aliathra asked out of concern. Alarielle smiled faintly.

"I am alright, Ali." She reassured. "Could you leave us alone for a bit, my dear? I need to speak with Tyrion."

"Yes, mother..." Aliathra left the two, albeit reluctantly. Tyrion pulled out a cloth and began wiping away blood and tears off her face.

"I should've stopped him the moment he appeared in Teclis' library..." Tyrion remarked. His scowl growing worse by the minute. Alarielle was displeased to hear those words. He stopped his hand and laid hers on his cheek.

"You shan't, Tyrion." Alarielle protested. "He may seem brutish, but he has a noble heart. The things I saw in his mind... my heart hurts for him."

"Not you too..." Tyrion said in defeat. "What do you both see in him? I cannot tangle myself with more of this nonesense."

"I told you already, it was my decision to reach into the Slayer's memories, and that is my mistake alone." Alarielle replied. "I too carry the burdens of the world each day. Finubar's passing deeply troubles me as well - as does Ali - but I believe he made the right choice to bring him here. He isthechange that this world needs."

"And yet, where ever I come across him, it seems like he's conveniently causing a scene. It's ridiculous that Teclis drags him around like some pet he required." Tyrion countered. Alarielle frowned, but moved his face towards her.

Alarielle's and Tyrion's eyes connected with one another. The fire stoked inside them carried with passion and love. The Prince's lip turned into sad smile as he held her hand.

"You and your brother have done greatly for Ulthuan than any other prince on the island. And it will be greater if you let the Slayer partake in the safety of the world."

Tyrion sighed, contemplating on her words spoken by her.

"You and Aliathra are the brightest jewels that have shone in this world..." Tyrion remarked. "And I would fight with all my blood and steel to protect you both."

"As is expected of you, my sweet prince." Alarielle replied, followed by a small laughter. "But know that our Ali is in safe hands. And Teclis made that decision come to fruition."

Alarielle kissed him on his lips, and he returned it with the same affections as well.

Unberknownst to the two, Aliathra hid from plain view and listened in on her birth parents' chatter.

"I wished things turned out differently with you and father..."She said to herself. She soon disappeared, eventually returning to them at some point.

Meanwhile, another assailant watched from afar. Red eyes stood out of the lush greenery. The events that unfolded were becoming more and more interesting by the minute. This knight known as Doom Slayer seemed to have quite the influence and impact on the world, as the Everqueen had displayed, and it would no doubt interest her mistress back in the Silver Pinnacle.

And then there were the implications that the Everchild might not be who she seems to be.

Now THAT would be very good information to take. However, this was not enough to send back, only speculation, so she had to keep an eye on them.

That said, it would be also good to gather intel on this "Slayer". Finished with her assessment, she returned to the darkness and disappeared... where the Queen of Lahmia awaited further news.

Alleyway, Lothern

A flash of light later, and Doom Slayer found himself in a dark alley somewhere in the city. The sound of the seaport was nearby, but the scenery was that of decrepit squalor. It was an odd change, but it was to be expected. Every city had its own slums. And every slum had its secrets.

"Is this where our contact is?"Hayden asked, not really surprised by their new surroundings. Teclis did not look back at the Slayer

"Indeed, he's nearby." Teclis answered; his tone now that of embitterment. His mood had doured and grown distant in no part to the previous event mere moments ago. Hayden, out of character, decided to say something redundant.

"You're upset."

"Was I too obvious?" Teclis snipped. Hayden took sympathy and explained further.

"Teclis, it was not in our intention to harm the Everqueen. She wanted to see what was in his mind. I can't say it was exactly pleasant."

"Of course, and because of it, I make myself look like a damn fool every convenient timing. If only I could understand you, Slayer, this whole miscommunication wouldn't be as disastrous as I would've expected." Teclis said, venomously. Although, it was more to himself than it was to the Slayer.

"...Let's just move on." Teclis grumbled. "It's all in the past now."

Both men continued forward, moving around the corners and slipping through tight corridors as they made their way to the meeting spot.

After what felt like five minutes of travelling, they found their location in the form of a two-story building long abandoned by its previous owners, now ramshackled and faded by the passages of time. Cracks were appearing on the walls, windows were sealed up with wooden planks, and the front door was rotting away. Still, the structure remained sturdy and was in no way ready to fall apart just yet. Teclis gestured the door to open without struggle. Both entered, and blockaded the door with whatever furniture was left as they got inside.

Looking around, the place had seen better days. No signs of life existed, save for the sounds of scurrying rats. No surprise if the ratman lived here, Doom Slayer thought.

Both headed towards the stairs and reached the upper floors. Several rooms for one corridor but the biggest was the second door on the left. Plenty of space and an open view of the city from one window. Teclis took a seat from a wooden chair that looked "pleasant" enough to not disgust the Loremaster. Doom Slayer, meanwhile, taken to leaning on a wall near the closed door.

"He should be here any amount by now. Or probably has. Who knows?" Teclis said. That raised an a eyebrow from the Slayer.

"Assuming he hasn't..."Hayden started."Mind if you share some details about this particular individual?Besides the bare minimum you've given us."

"That much, I can entertain for the time." Teclis answered. "For one, he's dead... at least, according to the rest of the Asur. Simple reason as to why I kept it a secret in the first place. Don't need the hysteria come along. That, and he was formerly a supporter of the Witch-King himself. Long story short, the Sundering happened and what followed was betrayal and vengeance after. He is the last of his bloodline and still is. And he vows to destroy Malekith and his cohorts to his last breath."

"If he means to destroy Malekith, then that would be a difficult task for us."Hayden pointed out.

"Yes. Of that, I'm aware. I have told him about this and, obviously, he did not take it well. However, I persuaded him to stay his hand until Malekith was put on trial. He bickered about it but mentioning the Phoenix King since it was His will was more than enough to see that the plan goes accordingly. But for now, we'll just have to wait and see."

"Reminds of someone with such a vendetta..."Hayden lampshaded. That was an obvious jab to Doom Slayer, who merely smirked underneath his helm.

Suddenly, Doom Slayer felt another presence... and it sat in the dark corner of the room.

Quickly, he summoned the combat shotgun out of thin air and aimed it towards the corner. Teclis, meanwhile, jumped out of his seat as he had taken notice of his response.

He waited for whatever sat there and kept his finger on the trigger.

"No need for violence." A voice calmly called out. "I'm not the enemy you seek."

Out of the corner, came another elf. His armor had a silvery glimmer to it. Ornate with gold trimmings and heraldries of a crescent moon, the figure had a blue hood connected to a cape over his head. Conveniently, he pulled it off his head to reveal atypical features not seen on many other Asur.

Namely, his hair. Instead of the commonly golden and fair-coloured kind, this one had darker, raven-coloured hair in contrast. His features were noticeably sharper and pale in complexion, almost ghostly in appearance.

Seeing this individual in person, it could only mean one thing.

"Loremaster, if you can do the honors..." Their contact suggested. Teclis slightly fumbled but naturally composed himself.

"R-Right. Doom Slayer and Dr. Hayden, I would like you to meet Alith Anar. The Shadow King."

"In the flesh." Alith added. Doom Slayer lowered his gun and eventually had it disappear from his hand.

"Apologise for the deception." Alith said. "I had to know for certain if I can trust you as Teclis does."

"And now? What does your gut say?"Hayden asked. It gave an amusing response from the Shadow King.

"My 'gut' tells me that you are hiding plenty of surprises. And if anything, that 'gun' of yours proved enough to dispell my reservations." Alith replied. Doom Slayer only shrugged, while Teclis sighed in relief.

"I take it you have considered the plan, Anar?" Asked Teclis.

"I have, Loremaster." Alith answered. "Despite my issues with bringing Malekith to Ulthuan, I have decided to agree to the terms... if only to fulfill the King's wishes."

Teclis was relieved to hear the good news. Alith turned back to the Slayer.

"Although, seeing you turned the princes' heads with quite an impression was rather... amusing. And recieving invitation from the Everqueen and Everchild is an impressive honor." Doom Slayer tilted his head up a bit in surprise by the observations.

"So you were spying on us, then?"Hayden asked. Though, not quite surprised by such.

"Aye, indeed." Alith answered, hiding nothing in his honesty. "The way Teclis wrote about you, I was... skeptical. But after visiting the Court, I can tell that you're a warrior itching for a fight. And if your feats are to go by, I'm certain the Druchii won't be much a problem for you."

"Considering the enemies we've encountered, I'd say he'll cut through them like a hot knife through butter."Hayden remarked, before asking directly to Teclis in turn.

"Teclis, were you aware of him spying on us back at the Court?"

"Only after he informed me, yes." Teclis admitted. "But I had a feeling he would be there. Just hidden from the rest of us."

"Don't forget that Iamdead." Alith added.

"Yes. That too." Teclis agreed. "But since that's out of the way, I think you'll enjoy the next stage of this plan."

Doom Slayer, despite his helmet getting in the way, smiled visibly in rejoice. Teclis soon pulled out a map and gestured another of his magical display. This time the map floated and unravelled to reveal maf of the Worlde. And much to both Hayden's and Doom Slayer's surprise, it was not unlike the geography of Earth.

"This... This is another version of our world!"Hayden pointed out, much to the surprise of both Asur as well.

"Curious." Teclis replied, his eyes lit up with astonishment. "Then perhaps we are connected in some ways. But we can discuss that for another time."

Teclis began walking towards the map.

"This is where we are. Ulthuan." He said, pointing to the home of the Asur, before moving towards what is essentially this world's version of North America. Specifically, Canada.

"And right there is Naggaroth. Home to the Druchii and the Witch-King himself."

"And standing between them and the Asur is Nagarythe. My people." Alith interrupted.

"You are correct, Anar. And that will soon be settled once we bring Malekith before the Court." Teclis added. The Loremaster looked directly at Doom Slayer.

"Is there any questions you would like to ask, Dr. Hayden?"

"None that could end in less than two minutes, I'm afraid."Hayden answered."Though with the map provided, this will indeed help us coordinate our next destinations in the future."

And soon after, a beep from Doom Slayer's armor sent an important notification for him.

"And would you look at that. It seems our base has finally arrived."

"Base?" Teclis asked, both surprised and confused by Hayden's meaning.

"Our fortress has reached its destination. Meaning that our means of travelling to our headquarters and retrieving supplies is now in full operation. We are prepared more than ever."

"That's... excellent news!" Teclis replied with an uplifting tone. "Though, where is it exactly? I doubt the Asur will take lightly to its sudden appearance."

"No need to panic. It's above us."Hayden simply answered. Both Asur's eyes widened in surprise.

"Y-You mean-"

"It's above this world's atmosphere. Meaning beyond its skies."

Teclis was speechless and couldn't process the thought of a fortress way above the skies.

"...I would like to see this fortress, one day."

"Another time, perhaps."Hayden replied."But for now, I'm scanning the entirety of this world."

"Meaning?" Alith asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Think of it as creating a map, in simple terms. Except visually accurate, per say."

"Oh."

"How long will that take?" Asked Teclis.

"Done."Hayden answered."The process is complete. Though, quite worrisome to look at if the North Pole is to go by."

"I believe what you're seeing is the Chaos Wastes." Teclis said. "Though, I'm more worried that you could actually see it and not be affected by its presence."

"My current state and programming has made me immune to such ill-effects. That, and I've seen my fair share of hellish encounters."

"Oh, right. The Invasion of Hell. How forgetful of me." Teclis admitted. Hayden continued to observe the entirety of the worlde, looking away from the Chaos Wastes and observing the other continents.

"Aside from the dark energy readings, much of your world is interesting. I would like to explore thes-"Hayden suddenly stopped mid-sentence, causing all three to stay on alert.

"Teclis, is Ulthuan expecting a vessel from the northwest?"Hayden asked, suddenly. Teclis looked confused by this.

"Northwest? But that would mean-" Teclis suddenly realized what he meant and grew pale from the revelation. Alith caught on and soon turned to horror, and then anger.

"How far is this ship?" Alith questioned.

"Judging by the shape and speed, it'll most likely hit shore tonight. It's passed by Nagarythe and is heading down south. Are there any coastal towns near the seas?"

"You mean the ones in Tiranoc? A few I know." Teclis answered. "We'll have to hurry. Those towns need to be evacuated. We'll need to send reinforcements. Now!"

"I agree." Alith followed up. "I'll keep an eye on the shores. My men are standing by as we speak. They will be the first defense."

Doom Slayer approached Alith Anar, signalling to his willingness to join.

"We'll join you as well."Hayden answered, while Doom Slayer pulled out a shotgun and co*cked it with malicious intent. Alith could read his expressions and agreed.

"Very well. You may join. I'd like to see if you're as capable as stories go. Teclis?"

"I'll warn the guards. Might have to bring this up with my brother as well. But first, I'll take you to the shores."

"Don't think that you'll need an army."Hayden replied."Only one man is needed, and he's standing before you. But do what you believe is necessary."As before, Teclis had begun his transportation, and all three soon vanished into the light.

Leaving from the safety of the city... and into the forthcoming battle that was about to happen.

Evening, near distant shores...

The sun had perished. And in its stead, the moon of Mansleibb hanged over a ship, casting light in the darkness of the sea.

After much seafaring and navigating, theFaded Silenceand its hosts finally drew near on the shores of an Asur coastal town. Viktur watched through his spyglass and smiled insidiously at the prospects of plunder and sacrifices.

"It's time." He told to his first mate. Putting aside the spyglass, he turned around to face his crew with renewed vigour.

Every single member on the ship sans the slaves were just as bloodthirsty as the blades they carried on them. Their grins full of lust and murder reflected from the purple fires that light the ship eerily. They foregoed their armor for maneuvarability and speed, for this raid was to be a hit and run. Staying any longer would alert the Sea Guards and lead only to disaster. Gold and any trinkets were allowed, but slaves were out of the question. Killing their treacherous cousins, however, was fair game. Sindric and Saressa stood on the sidelines, with his lieutenand leading the excited crew and his sister standing idly with her staff in hand.

"Our time has come, my brothers!" He announced. "As we reach further to our most hated kin, we shall wet our blades with their blood! Relieve them of their precious treasures! And make music with their screams! Loud enough so that Khaine could finally sleep in peace! For we are the Druchii! The true sons and daughters of Naggaroth! And on this night, we shall turn the waters red as we slaughter the usupers like the cattle they are!"

The Cove Battle - Darkest Dungeon OST

The crew cheered on and cried for the blood of their cousins to sate their vengeance. Viktur's grin turned to that of a predator setting sights on his prey.

"Raise the sails! Ready the bolt throwers and cannons! Light 'em up! And prepare to soften the sheep! For the slaughter shall begin!" He ordered with enthusiasm. His men did as they were told. They began furling the sails, and mounted the bolts with dhar-enchanted fire, while the cannons were armed and ready. The corsair captain suited up and wore the signature helm of the Black Ark Corsairs. The sight of it would strike fear into the hearts of those who gaze upon it, for it was the symbol of the terrors of the sea.

While as much as he would like to join the skirmish, it was high time that he stayed in the background for once, and let the crew revel in the glory. Still, that didn't stop him from psyching them into a frenzy.

Nearing the the coastal shores, Viktur took commands again.

"Darkspears! Ballistae! Cannons! FIRE!"

On command, Dreadspears began firing while the Bolt Throwers and cannons soon followed. Explosions and black fire engulfed some areas of the town. Now it was the reavers turn.

"Deploy the boats! Make Khaine proud!" The crew hollered for blood as their boats drop to the surface of the water, and began rowing towards shore.

"This will be a wonderful sight to watch from here!" Viktur joyfully said.

"I concur, Viktur." His sister applauded. "Though, it would've been better if you had join them. I would've enjoyed scrubbing the blood from your body..."

"Another time, then..." He replied, before going behind her back and kissing on her neck sensually, fondling her breasts and putting a hand down to her snatch. She purred and moaned at his touch.

"But for now... let's just enjoy the show."

Shore

"Alright, you sea dogs! GET TO WORK!" Sindric ordered. The corsairs soon jumped off their boats and began running towards shore. The artillery back from the ship provided cover and allowed them to move with little resistance. Sindric's heart was pumping with adrenaline and drugs as he rushed forward with the reavers.

They reached past shorelines and began making their way towards the town. The druchii were ready to sink their blades into the traitors as the spirit of Khaine flowed in their veins.

They finally entered the city, houses were ablazed by the bolts, with some crumbling on the streets. In their fit of bloodlust, many began storming the homes and raided for whatever wasn't nailed onto the floor. Sidric and several others behind him reached the townsquare. The first mate stood on a bench near a fountain.

Seeing the entire town in fire and his crew pillaging the stores and homes while screaming bloody murder was a much needed recreation from being away at sea.

And yet, something was off. There was something missing. A raid like this is missing a key ingredient. Somethi-

"WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE?!" A raider cried out. The screaming died down and everyone was now sobered up from the pent up rage. The whole crew looked to themselves with confusion, and Sidric was completely baffled by it as well.

"Something's not right here!"

"This place is a ghost town!"

"Were we already spotted?!"

The last question really hit Sindric out of the blue. How could the town be so empty when the ship and its crew silently snuck up on the Asur? As far as they knew, this should've been isolated from the rest of the island.

As he pondered and thought carefully on the answers, something in the top left corner of his eye landed in one set of his crew. Something blinking with the colour of red.

*BOOOOOM*

Suddenly, an explosion erupted, sending some of the men in the air and landing on the ground with missing limbs. Another explosion was set off and caused another group to go flying. Those who survived were doing nothing but screaming their heads off as they found themselves limbless in certain areas of their bodies.

Soon after, a hail of arrows began striking down the Druchii from above. However, loud banging noises were heard and some of the raiders' heads were exploding inexplicably before Sidric's eyes. Panic erupted within the remaining raiders as they searched the roof tops.

They noticed too late when a green blur landed on one of their own and immediately smashed the poor druchii's head with one single stomp.

The figure rose up and Sindric had a good view of their attacker.

Standing on top of the raider's corpse, stood an unknowable warrior. Covered in the strangest armor he had ever seen, the figure was clearly dangerous and looked formidable to the eye. However, he wielded only a gun that those monkeys carried back in the Old World. Meaning this was only one man, and there were many of his raiders.

Seething with anger at the attack on the druchii, Sindric took action.

"What the hell are you standing there for?! It's one against us! KILL HIM!" He yelled, bringing the raiders back to unbridled fury, and rushed at the lone warrior.

The stranger, meanwhile, could only make one bizarre sound from his gun. And it was the sound that would send them to their graves.

*click-clack*

Rip and Tear - DOOM 2016 OST(And the gamerip version because of the awesome drum sequence. You know the one. :))

Doom Slayer proceeded to goFull Autoagainst a wave of Druchii running towards him. Buckshots started rending and tearing off chunks and body parts into bloody galore as they started coming at him like suicidal imps.

After finally going through boring conversations and waiting his ass off while arguing over whether to attack the ship head-on or just baiting them with Alith, patience finally paid off as he started filling these pirate scum with hot white lead. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

A couple more went down and the rest soon scrambled and scattered to avoid getting hit from the Slayer'sCrowd Appeaser. One rushed towards him to the left, swinging his sword overhead. Doom Slayer took notice, and parried with hisDoombladebefore throwing a haymaker. Teeth and blood went loose from the mouth, staggering the pirate, followed by a uppercut with the wristblade through his skull. Another snuck up behind only to recieve a savage backhand so hard from the Slayer, his head twisted to a full 180 degree.

More tried to flank him but Alith and his Shadow Warriors rain down arrows on their unsuspecting victims. The lure effectively put the pirates into disarray and most took cover inside the buildings.

Some retaliated with their crossbows, but missed their shots. Alith Anar hopped from one rooftop to another, nocking his arrows and hitting his targets with extreme proficiency and grace with theMoonbow. Doom Slayer, meanwhile, switched to theHeavy Cannonand started spraying the Druchii withMicro Missiles. Those unfortunate enough to be caught by them exploded into fine red mist as the missiles found their targets. Others even more unfortunate wailed in horror as they found their limbs missing from their bodies. Even when the pirates had large numbers to their advantage, the Doom Slayer had his with his high tech arsenal and Alith with his skills and Shadow Warriors.

Yet despite all this, the druchii's bloodlust still drove them to the edge and some managed to fearlessly charge at Doom Slayer despite instincts telling them otherwise.

One group tried to swarm him only to be doused in fire by his Flame Belcher. They writhed in agony before a grenade was tossed at their feet, ending their horrible torment.

One tried to punch the Slayer in the face, resulting in a broken arm and an even more broken skull as the Doom Slayer headbutted him in return. The druchii fell dead with his skull visibly caved in.

Alith Anar nocked several of his arrows on the druchii that crept up behind Doom Slayer before landing to the ground and switching to full melee. Both fought side by side as they fought against the Druchii that still stood.

"I suppose you were right about only needing one man for this job!" Alith commented.

"You don't know half of it."Hayden replied.

"Duly noted!" Alith grinned upon Hayden's boast of Doom Slayer's skill, before both prepared themselves against the onslaught.

Sindric watched the two warriors clash with his men while cowering behind a wall.

Not only did the green warrior proved to be a greater threat, but he also had THE Shadow King and his cohorts covering his back. This fight was not in the Druchii's favor. And Sidric was cursing under his breath for failing to foresee the ambush.

"Damn you, Asur!" He cursed. "This is a disaster!"

Looking to his surroundings, he noticed that still more were taking cover to avoid those two.

"All of you! Formations! Darkshards! Cover us!" He commanded. The arbalests swiftly took action and prepared to defend. Some took to the roofs and shot the Shadow Warriors, with a few hitting their intended targets. Most of them, however, launched their bolts towards the two that stood against them.

The Shadow King swiftly dodged the incoming projectiles and safely headed for cover. The green man, on the other hand, bore the brunt of the bolts.

Yet, instead of achieving an easy victory, the man still stood on his two feet, with not a single scratch on his armor despite being hit several times. And the man was visibly angry if that open helm of his was to go by. He then shot them back with several of those "fireflies" before they exploded on impact. The scene caused a decrease in morale. Some of the pirates ran for the boats, but Sidric wasn't finished with this. The darkshards gave them plenty of time to put the others in formation.

"DO NOT RUN FROM THIS! ELSE YOU WANT BLOODSONG HAVE YOUR BALLS CUT OFF AND FED THEM TO YOU! WE ARE DRUCHII! THE SONS OF NAGGAROTH! CHAAAAARGE!" Sidric yelled.

The pirates were renewed with adrenaline again and charged on command. However, they soon stopped as they witnessed a mass of warriors in shining coats and armor marching from the left view

The Lothern Sea Guard had arrived. And leading them was none other than the Defender of Ulthuan himself, Tyrion, and his brother Teclis. Alongside them, the White Lions of Chrace and presumably the town's garrison were here. The sight alone dropped the Druchii's morale entirely.

"Sons and Daughters of Ulthuan! ATTAAAAACK!" Tyrion yelled out. The Sea Guard began charging towards the remaining druchii.

Sidric took a glance back at the knight, and now realized that he had a different weapon on him. It was large and bulky, yet the man didn't seem to struggle carrying it on his hip. And the barrels were splitting to four more barrels and were spinning up.

Fight or Flight instincts were kicking in, and Sindric soon ducked for cover. He managed to avoid being obliterated by whatever weapon the man held. The rest of his druchii, however, was torn to shreds as the bullets seemingly tore them apart far faster than the bombs lobbed from before. Screaming could be heard, and the ones left standing found themselves riddled with holes and missing limbs.

Realizing the situation, Sindric ran for it and cut his losses.

"Get back on the boats! Khaine's favor is not on our side! Retreat!" He yelled to anyone left alive. By now, the whole town was swarming with Asur scum. Yet, the army was nothing compared to the sheer massacre that green man committed. And it would haunt the Druchii if they managed to survive.

"When I'm alive and out of here in one piece, you're good as dead, Viktur!"

Sindric cursed under his breath.

Faded Silence

The sound of explosions and fighting from the town was heard back on the ship. Yet, neither the cannons nor the ballistae had been active since the raiders landed on shore. Both were merely to terrorize the populace before the raiding began. And hearing noises too foreign to the Captain's ears raised several alarms. He brushed his sister aside and leaned over the railings.

"What the hell's going on over there?!" Viktur cursed. He took out his spyglass and saw that several of his druchii were running towards the boats. Many of them seriously injured and looked like they were terrified of something. Looking further back to the town he could see something vaguely shiny and moving fast.

It was only a few seconds before he saw the Asur in full view were here.

"Dammit! Of all the places we found, those whor*sons were waiting for us!" He growled.

"Then we need to get outta here!" Saressa exclaimed.

"No! Not while Sindric and his men are still out there!" He refused. "Men! Prepare the artillery! Aim for the Asur! AT ONCE!"

"Aye, captain!" His crew began loading the bolts and cannonballs. The Asur were closing in but the crew were quicker and awaited further instructions.

"Orders, sir!"

"FIRE, DAMMIT! FIRE!"

In an instant, the ship's artillery began launching and hitting the town with devastating results.

Coastal Town

Tyrion cut down a druchii who attempted to run him through from behind. His head flew from his shoulders as Sunfang did its job. The Sea Guards and Korhil's White Lions spread throughout and began cutting down the druchii scum by the sword.

Yet, most of them either died violently or fled by the time they arrived. The work of both Alith and Teclis' mercenary had done their job clearing out the pirates. Having seen the Slayer's handiwork as he eviscerated one crowd of Druchi with a weapon far above dwarfen standards made him realize not to underestimate his brother's schemes.

Fortunately, Ulthuan was very lucky to have one settlement still standing, and it certainly was glad to be rid of pest. Now, it was simply a matter of picking off the survivors.

"To me, children of Ulthuan! To arms! FORWARD!" He yelled.

But the worse had yet to come. Sounds of explosion could be heard far off. Soon, buildings were blowing up and crumbling as the artillery from the ship made their presence clear. The damn pirates had guns and they were using it to full effect.

Everywhere, the men and women were caught in the crossfire, with many flying in the air and others crushed by the debris. Some were impaled by large bolts piercing through their bodies, leaving them to a slow and painful death. Heavy ordnance was at full volume, and there was no way those pirates will get away with this transgression.

"TAKE COVER!" He cried out.

Quickly taking cover, Tyrion sprinted and made his way towards to safety. Jumping over plenty of debris, the Defender felt his blood pump in response to the danger all around him. He quickly took cover to one of the still standing architecture left unscathed. However, one blast from the cannon knocked the top of the building, plummeting to where Tyrion was.

He looked up in horror to see it falling on top of him He tried to run but slipped. Too late, he thought, he closed his eyes in preparation of his imminent doom, only to feel something snag his shoulder, followed by a flash of light. He opened his eyes seconds later and found himself alive and untouched from debris. He looked over his shoulder and saw Teclis standing next to him, out of breathe, but smiling.

"Death hasn't come for you just yet, Tyrion." His brother said, before pulling an elixir and downing it one gulp. "Ulthuan needs its Defender."

Tyrion nodded in respect for his brother's words.

"Many blessings, brother." Tyrion thanked as he stood up and surveyed the battle. Both were far from the bombardment but still within the town.

"But this isn't over. That ship won't cease firing until all of us are dead."

"Then leave it to us, then."Both brothers looked behind them and saw Doom Slayer was approaching them.

"We can handle this from here. Tell your men to retreat and get to safety. Now."Hayden said.

"You are in no position to command me, but I see the wisdom in such." Tyrion replied.

"Prince Tyrion!" A voice called out. Looking to his right, he saw her squire Eldyra and Korhil approach them haggardly. Eldyra put a hand on her shoulder due to her injuries from the gunnery barrage while Korhil stood unharmed, albeit covered in dust, looking no worse for wear.

"The Sea Guards are under heavy fire! They await for your next orders!"

"See it to it that they retreat and be taken to the healers. I want all of them evacuated."

"The White Lions will do just that. We'll retrieve any survivors." Korhil added, recieving a nod of approval from Tyrion.

"Good. See to it. I'll deal with the ship." Tyrion ordered.

"No, this fight is his to end."Hayden declined. The trio besides Teclis looked stunned at the boast thrown by the invisible doctor.

"Are you insane?! Our enemy holds a man o' war class warship! That thing holds a gallery of guns on it! It's suicide!" Tyrion protested.

"I don't believe you realize the full scale of the destruction he could bring to the enemy."Hayden dismissed, with Doom Slayer pulling a huge weapon that he carried over his shoulder."Regardless, we'll divert their attention to ours. Get as many of your men out of here as possible. We'll be back shortly."

"Then I don't suppose you wouldn't mind I tag along as well?" Another voice came. It was Alith Anar standing watch from behind the Slayer. Doom Slayer looked over his shoulder.

"How many warriors do you have available?"

"Barely twenty, as of now. But knowing you, I'd say the odds are stacked against them." Alith replied.

"Then let's not waste anymore time."

"Allow me to help as well." Teclis strode forth. "I'll act as an artillery while you reach for the ship."

"Save it for another time. Don't want casualities among Alith's men. Best you teleported some aid when we get there. We'll signal you."Doom Slayer began walking away, with Alith following behind. Both now sprinted towards the ship in haste, and end the bloodshed once for all.

Tyrion looked back at Teclis once more.

"I hope he knows what he's doing..." Tyrion remarked. Teclis gave small grin in response.

"Have a little faith in him, brother."

Somewherein the burning town...

"Come on! COME ON!" Sindric muttered to himself. The walls were crumbling and the town was ablazed with even more Dhar fire as the ship continued assaulting with heavy artillery. He ran through the streets as tried to run back to the ship for safety. Everywhere he went, debris kept crashing down on him, blocking his exit to freedom.

"Dammit! Would it kill for Viktur to at least give pause with the damn guns?!" He thought. Continuing his way through the ruined streets, he found one way that lead to shore. He soon hauled ass and began making his run. The cannons and bolts kept coming in hot, and Sindric needed to get out fast unless he wanted to join the corpsepile. A couple of shots from the ship managed to hit the structures in the direction of the corsair's path, much to his inconvenience.

Cursing Viktur, he ran with all of his strength as he narrowly avoided the falling debris around him. He could feel the fires of Dhar singeing his skin and the sound of buildings collapsing behind him. Some were getting too close for comfort and it only made Sindric more determined to escape the death trap.

Inches towards freedom, Sindric leapt forward as the buildings crumbled behind within a hair's width. He landed face first in the cool sands of the beach. He no longer felt the heat of the magical fire nor did he feel debris falling on him.

The danger was over. Almost.

Looking up with exhaustion, he saw aplenty of the crew taking off with the boats. Getting back up sluggishly, Sindric made chase again. This time, he didn't have to worry about the danger around him. Sort of.

Feeling the breeze going through him, he began laughing to himself. Whether it was relief for making out alive or madness from the slaughter back in town, Sindric couldn't care about his own well-being.

He was just laughing.

He finally arrived to the boats. One was about to take off and Sindric made it just in time.

"Sir! You're alive!

"Shut up and start rowing! NOW!" He ordered. The remaining didn't question his freakout and hastily rowed towards theFaded Silence. Sindric looked back and watched the whole town burn.

Burn until he didn't have to worry about the demon that slaughtered his men.

Sindric laid his head back on the boat's railing, finally taking a break from the madness.

Faded Silence

Viktur looked through his spyglass again. The artillery worked its charm as it presumably did the job eradicating the Asur. He saw some of his pirates had made their way to the boats. He wondered if Sindric survived. Would've been a waste to throw away a loyal subordinate like that, he thought.

Regardless, this was a disaster and it would certainly become a stain in his career. He had been through plenty before, but most could've been dealt with easily if one could adapt to the situation. Yet, seeing most of his men run for fear of something and return without spoils was an embarrassment to his career.

"Well, this isn't what I predicted, dear Saressa." Viktur commented. His sister raised an eyebrow.

"And just whatexactlywere you predicting, Viktur?"

"That there were some losses." He replied. "A couple of the crew, perhaps. A few valuables, here and there. And supplies, even."

"But this..." He said calmly, putting the spyglass away and looked directly to his sister. "This will more than likely make me lose respect from everyone on this ship."

"And you think to tell me that I would care about your reputation?" Saressa questioned. He shrugged.

"I thought I'd share."

"Captain!" A subordinate called out. "I saw Sindric on one of the boats! He'll be here soon!"

"Excellent." Viktur replied, though no less unimpressed with the situation. "Throw down the rope ladders and see that the survivors ar-"

*BOOOOOOM*

Suddenly, the ship was rocked by an explosion in the midst of the Captain's orders. It landed on the decks below where the cannons were placed. Another shot came and this time it was was where the Bloodsong twins were. Several crewman went flying as a couple of bolt throwers were destroyed on impact. The Bloodsongs lost their footing and found themselves hitting the floor. The blast caught them off guard, and now Viktur was cursing like the sailor he was.

"What the f*ck is going on out there?! Since when did those whor*sons have cannons?!"

Viktur forced himself back up and quickly pulled out his spyglass once more.

He scoured through the burning wreckage of the town and tried to locate the perpetrators. It only took a couple of seconds before he found the one responsible for the retaliation.

In the midst of the burning town, stood a lone man.

Even when he couldn't see his appearance visually-speaking, he know that this foolish idiot had the gall to attack his ship.

Incensed, Viktur took commands and ordered his men to prepare themselves.

"Get the cannons ready! This battle is far from over!" He ordered. The crew did their best to maintain discipline despite the initial setbacks.

Another blast went to the cannons below, but this time, the crew had setup most of the cannons.

"Sir! The cannons are ready! Orders, sir?"

"SHOOT, DAMMIT! SHOOT THE BASTARD TO SMITHEREENS!" Cried out another voice. Looking to where the railings were, Viktur saw his first mate climbing overboard with desperation.

"Sindric, you're alive!"

"No time to talk! FIRE! ALL THE CANNONS YOU HAVE LEFT! SHOOT THE f*ckING BASTARD!" Sindric cried as he frantically shook the crewman. Viktur would've had his lieutenant tasting the lash for disobedience but the desperation in his voice raised a lot of red flags.

"What on earth has gotten into you, Sindric?!"

"That demon killed ALL of our men! That's what happened!"

As if to further prove his point, another blast sent a shockwave in the upper decks. This time, three orbs went flying, hitting several more cannons in the process.

Now on alert, Viktur supported his first mate in just one word.

"FIRE!"

Red Flag - Slipknot

Doom Slayer ran straight towards the ship after dishing out damage with thePaingiver. The rocket launcher did well against the ship, having shot a couple of missiles at its guns.

By now, he had gotten their attention, and cannonballs began launching in his direction. Quick on his feet, Doom Slayer avoided the first few shots before dashing his way to it. More firepower kept coming at him, but his boots allowed him to effortlessly dodge the incoming projectiles.

He then pulled theBallistaand zoomed on one of the guns. TheArbalestfound its targets and shot a few rounds before giving chase again. The darts themselves exploded on impact, damaging the ship even further.

The last boat had zero time to get off land, having only been drifting about at least ten rows off the beach. Pulling it out hisSuper Shotgun, Doom Slayer quickly activated theMeat Hookand latched onto one unfortunate soul who got caught on fire by it. He pulled the trigger and reduced what's left of the pirates on it before hopping to the next boat and then after.

The cannons took aim at the boats, not even caring for their comrades as they obliterated them to oblivion just as they desperately fired upon the elusive Slayer himself. Darkshards attempted to shoot him, but the bolts did nothing as they bounced off his armor harmlessly from him. It only served to irritate him more than outright piss him off.

Jumping from boat to boat, but not before killing the pirates onboard, the Meat Hook finally cooled down and Doom Slayer instantly shot it again at one of the Darkshards near the railings. With one final pull, Doom Slayer reeled himself towards the main deck and pulled the trigger; giving one hell of an entrance by killing the crossbowmen.

Landing on one poor soul as he smashed his head in upon landing, Doom Slayer surveyed his surroundings. Every single druchii on board looked upon him with fear and anger. Their swords drawn but not moving from their places.

Only did the voice of presumably their leader, who wore an odd-looking helm resembling a squid, culled the crew .

"Don't just stand there! KILL HIM!" He yelled. Druchii began swarming in on the Slayer. Doom Slayer began charging to one group, blasting them with the Super Shotgun to pasty gore, followed by a chargedBlood Punchto another. The rest quickly backed off as they witnessed the brutal display he delivered. More Darkshards began reloading their crossbows and took aim for him only to be struck with arrows embedded into them from their left field of view. Doom Slayer glanced at the downed druchii to find Alith Anar and his surviving Shadow Warriors onboard.

"For Nagarythe!" Cried the Shadow King, and a skirmish on the ship soon began. Both Druchii and Asur clashed. Alith shot an arrow into one of the pirates, before standing next to Doom Slayer.

"You seem to be handling this quite well." Alith remarked.

"Leave the captain to us. You handle the pirates."Hayden said.

"If you insist." The Shadow King replied.

Doom Slayer aimed his shotgun towards the leader, but was struck by a bolt of purple lightning as it sent him flying backwards. He didn't lose his balance, however, and gripped with his palms to the floor beneath him. He stood back up and searched for the perpatrator. Standing between him and the captain was a scantily-clad woman wielding a staff that looked overkill in design. Like some razor-sharp christmas ornament. She had a dagger of similar quality, but that was smaller and "safer" to carry at least.

"You will pay for your indignation!" She snarled. Purple energy around her began glowing menacingly, and Doom Slayer was back on his feet in no time. He evaded her just as she casted more bolts of lightnings at him again. Each shot exploded upon impact, hitting several unaware druchii with bloody results.

Doom Slayer pulled out thePlasma Gunand started shooting back. Each shot was deflected as the sorceress pulled up a magical shield around her. He groaned as it reminded him of his fights against Archviles. At least he didn't have to deal with her spawning demons. That would've been a total nightmare.

Doom Slayer jumped down to where the main sail was located, and where the fight had become the most concentrated, and switched back to the Paingiver. This time, he switched to theRemote Detonatemod. He was interrupted by a couple of druchii but made short work of them, with one having his arm bent to unnatural degrees before the bone shard impaled him through the face; the other getting a quick slash to the throat with the Doomblade. He aimed high to the sky and waited to reach atop the tallest sail and then detonated. It exploded in the air, signalling the Loremaster to his presence. Switching back toLock-on Burst, the sorceress teleported to his presence at a good timing, allowing him to lock on her. Three rockets propelled towards her. She instantly raised her shield again, although pained upon impact, as they cracked through her defenses.

"Gah! DAMN INSECT!" She snarled. Distracted, Doom Slayer launched himself towards her and landed a Blood Punch against her crippled shield. The ripple from the impact exploded the shield and the sorceress was sent flying across the floor. Doom Slayer charged towards, pulling out the super shotgun again and taking aim at her head. A darkshard interrupted him, however, and landed a bolt on his right bicep. Enraged, Doom Slayer took aim and launched anIce Bombat him along with his comrades. The bomb exploded and enveloped them with ice and snow, leaving them at the mercy of the Shadow Warriors, while breaking the bolt before pulling it out.

The sorceress wasted no time with him distracted and teleported away. Doom Slayer noticed and shot a full round at her, only to hit nothing. She reappeared on the highest position of the ship and glared down to where Doom Slayer was.

"Fool! You will now see the full might of my true powers!" She gloated. Raising a hand up towards the sky, a storm was brewing above the boat, and purple lightning began striking down on the ship, heavily. Both Asur and Druchii were caught unaware and found themselves flying off the floor or being electrocuted from lightning. Many proceeded to take cover to avoid the sorceress' elemental fury. Doom Slayer stood his ground, however, and remained undaunted by the intimidation. One lightning was ready to strike down on him, only to be blocked by a magical shield above him just as a flash of light appeared behind him. Glancing back, he recognized the twins alongside Korhil and the lady knight and several of the Sea Guard appearing.

"FOR ULTHUAN!" Tyrion yelled as he pulled out his flaming sword in the air. The Sea Guard charged and clashed with the ever dwindling Druchii onboard. Doom Slayer kept his eye on the sorceress, who was now fuming with rage by the sight of the Asur. A flash of light appeared behind him and standing next to him was Teclis.

"Need of any assistance?" Teclis asked.

"Not really. Just dealing with a mild hindrance."Hayden answered.

"Then allow me to help, regardless."

Doom Slayer reloaded and began to give chase while Teclis stood back, downing another elixir as he begun preparing his spells.

The sorceress, meanwhile, grew frustrated and began recklessly throwing all of her magic just to destroy the Slayer. Seeing the danger he was heading, the High Loremaster casted theShield of Sapheryonto the Slayer's armor, allowing him to continue on without harm as the dark magic made contact.

A pirate attempted to sneak behind Teclis, only for Tyrion to stab his brother's would-be attacker in the back.

"You should be watching your back!" Tyrion yelled.

"That's why I have you for that." Teclis replied. His brother groaned as he continued to fight the druchii. Seeing how capable Doom Slayer was handling on his own, Teclis left him to his own device and aided his brother finishing off the pirate crew.

Viktur stabbed a Sea Guard into the exposed throat as he defended for dear life. He gritted his teeth as another attempted to skewer him with a spear, only for the Asur to be pushed off the ship. Sindric, meanwhile, stabbed one in the gut and before decapitating him as he began crawling for safety with futile results.

"DAMMIT ALL! HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED?!" Viktur yelled out in frustration. What should have been a quick and clean raid ended in disaster as his ship was now crawling with his accursed cousins. Everywhere, those rats were killing his men and it was a bloody nightmare.

That damn green man was responsible for this sh*tshow, and he will his head if his sister didn't get to him first. Glancing back to where his sister was, Saressa struggled to beat the man alone despite him being alone and with no allies to back him up.

This was both impossible and suicidal. How could this idiot face Saressa, a member of the Dark Convent and one of the most powerful sorceresses of Naggaroth, on his own. He prayed his sister would be done with him and get them both off of this forsaken boat.

His lieutenant interrupted his thoughts.

"Captain! We have to leave now! They're swarming the whole ship!"

"I CAN CLEARLY SEE THAT, SINDRIC!" Viktur snarled. He quickly thought of his next options. Hiding in his quarters was impossible as the glassed windows would expose his position, not to mention that the door could only hold for so long. And escaping by boat was slow as the crew was dwindling in number. Which meant only one thing.

The escape wards in the decks below.

"Captain! What do we do?!" Sindric cried. His captain turned around and placed his hands on his lieutenant's shoulders.

"Simple, Sindric!" Viktur started. "You've been a loyal lieutenant for quite some time! Therefore, you must protect me while I escape to safety!"

"W-WHAT?!" Sindric balked. "I'M NOT GONNA FEND YOUR ARSE WHILE YOU LEAVE US TO BLOODY KHAINE'S REALM! TO HELL WITH THAT! DOGsh*t OF A PLAN IS WHAT IT IS!"

"Well, let's agree to disagree!" The captain replied, just as he suddenly shoved Sindric off the rails where the fight happened below. Viktur landed on top of some crates, where the noise alerted several Asur nearby.

"Iwillhaveyoumemorializedbackhooome!" Viktur hastily said just as his lieutenant was soon surrounded by the Asur soldiers.

"VIIIIKTUUUUUUUUUR!" Sindric screamed in bloody murder, only for Viktur to escape by the time he finished.

Alone and now surrounded, Sindric held up his sword and charged towards the Sea Guard with one final yell.

Saressa held her ground as the green man kept putting pressure on her with weapons so alien to her that it would have put either the Witch King or the Hag Sorceress to shame. That, didn't stop her as she held him at bay with her own magic, though.

She could feel her own body was draining, however, as she pushed herself to fend off the intruder.

The man was relentless. His speed could beat the finest horses or the most vicious Cold Ones (or both) in a race without tiring even by the shortest distance. And the strength and brutality he delivered onto the crew was fearsome to behold. Meaning that he kept the sorceress on her toes as long as possible. And she needed to end this quick.

"Why. Won't. You. DIE?!" She yelled, blasting crystal shards out of her hands, only to hit nothing as the green man kept dodging her spells. In return, the man blast blue magical energies back at Saressa, forcing her to duck and take cover.

The man advanced closer to the sorceress. Desperate and already losing both her ground and willpower, Saressa looked to a group of pirates with command in her voice.

"You four! Distract the man while I prepare my spell! Or I'll have your skins flayed in an instant!" She ordered. They did without hesitation in fear of their superior as they charged toward the green man.

Wasting no time, she made one last attempt in a ditch effort to win. Reaching her staff towards the sky and calling upon the magic of Dhar once more, a blinding flash of purple light struck the staff's decorative head, and surged into her body. Feeling more powerful than ever, she quickly focused on the man, who had now just killed the last of the pirates used as distraction. She raised a freehand towards him as a beam of dark energy was shot out of her.

Seeing the dark energy aimed toward, the man in turn shot his own beam in return. The contact between the two power sources sent a shockwave on the ship, with some of the Asur and Druchii flying off towards the waters below in an instant. Dhar Magic clashing against Argent Plasma could be felt in the air and it was near palpable. It was a high risk that will soon turn into reward for the sorceress as she continued to blast forth the power against the warrior. Her magic was pushing back the blue beam further as green man was struggling to hold his ground; his feet slowly sliding underneath him.

Seeing her victory was close at hand, Saressa kept pushing with all her might as the magic pushed back, despite the straining in her body.

"YESSSSS!" She gleefully said, as she dawned a wicked and predatory smile upon her lips. No longer will this worm trouble this ship further, and the Asur will soon follow after.

Unfortunately, such victories were short-lived.

As Saressa was inching towards victory, she failed to notice an arrow flying towards her as it struck her on the shoulder. She lost both her balance and focus, leaving her at the mercy of the green man's weapon. The blue energy struck her body and the pain that followed was excrucriatingly agonising.

Blood was boiling, and the flesh began to cook. She screamed and screamed as she felt her entire body as if it were on fire. Her body was cooking on the inside and forcefully expanded as they reached their limit. Mercy welcomed a moment later, and what was left of the sorceress known as Saressa of House Bloodsong exploded into gore and Argent plasma, leaving no traces of her whatsoever, save for the unidentifiable flesh landing on the wooden panels.

The green giant stood over what's left of the sorceress' remains, and standing behind him was the one responsible for averting Saressa's victory..

"I figured she would be quite troublesome, Slayer." Alith responded. "No one has ever dared to fight a sorceress of the Dark Convent alone. Except maybe me, of course."

"He's killed a lot worse than this."Hayden replied, just as Doom Slayer admired the plasma gun'sMicrowave Beamfor it's excellent purpose."What's the status on the ship? Any signs of progress, I mean."

"Looks like we're winning the tide. But I'm certainly you made it easy for all of use. Glad to you have you on our side."

"Be glad to help."Hayden thanked."Where's the captain?"

"Last I saw, he went inside. Most likely down further to get out, somehow."

"Which more than likely means that he has other means of escaping. Too bad it won't get him far."

"Then let's make haste, shall we?" Doom Slayer nodded, and both men made their way below the decks in haste.

Lower Decks...

Viktur navigated his way below the decks. Sweat was starting to blind his vision and the damned helmet was getting the way. Throwing it off, he frantically looked around and tried to find the escape wards.

While he was certainly no sorcerer - because gods forbid he did as that would put him under the Witch King's sight - his sister still taught him a few tricks. Enough that allowed him to avoid persecution. And the wards were one such spell.

In the rare occasion that the ship and its crew were in peril. He and his sister would escape back home in their own household by wards marked in a secret room where no one save for the Bloodsongs knew about. Said room was specifically transmuted by his sister and it could only be open with the blood of a Bloodsong.

How fortunate it was that Viktur was one himself.

He searched around the decks, passing by slaves that were still chained to the wall, and moving about as he searched for the hidden room.

Eventually, and hastily, he found the hidden passage of where the escape wards were with a symbol on it. Excited, he made a small cut on his hand and placed it over the symbol.

The passage magically opened on itself, revealing the wards on the floor where the Viktur stood over, giving him a sense of relief. All he had to do was to repeat the process over with the magical ward as well.

"Shame my sister won't come along. Most likely dead, I think. But there's plenty of fish in the sea."He thought.

His thoughts were soon interrupted as heard footsteps behind him.

"Drop the weapons. Hands where I can see them." A voice behind Viktur said. Freedom was so close and now he had to deal with more inconvenience.

Slowly, he dropped his weapons on the floor and turned around, where he was now standing face-to-face with his still battered and bruised, but very much alive lieutenant holding a crossbow aimed at his abdomen.

His heart beating rapidly, Viktur forced a smile upon his lips opposite of Sindric's deep scowl.

"Sindric, you're alive! And I am so glad to say that I have managed to find our escape! So allow me to help you get us out and then we-"

Sindric raised the crossbow close to his former captain's face.

"Cut the sh*t, Viktur." Sindric interrupted. "Those words aren't going to get you anywhere. I know about the wards, and I know where it'll take you. So do us a favor and get me the f*ck out of here!"

Viktur's heart sank, realizing his secret was found out after all.

"One question: you won't keep kill me once we escape, correct?" Viktur meekly asked.

"Keep it up, and you won't wait for long." Sindric threatened. The captain gulped, but relented.

"Fine, fine." Viktur accepted. Sindric gestured him to start, to which the captain eagerly did. Placing his blood onto the wards, the light began glowing around it, and his lieutenant soon shoved Viktur aside with a grin on his face. Viktur took the opportunity to shove him on top of the wards as soon as Sindric was distracted. Quickly, he grabbed his sword and thrusted it into his former lieutenant's right shoulder.

"F-f*cking bastard!" Sindric howled. "I'll get you for this!"

"Sorry! But I'm afraid you were too clever by ahalfto be decieved like this!" Viktur mockingly replied. Just as Sindric tried to curse back, the ward was activated and what became of Sindric's upper half was now writhing and flailing about in agony somewhere in Naggaroth much to the panicking of several druchii nearby, before dying just as he cursed Bloodsong's name. The lower half meanwhile remained on theFaded Silence, right where the captain stood over.

Viktur felt relief again as he escape certain death, once more. He only made one step to freedom before a sudden blast landed on the secret doorway that made him jump back in surprise, crashing into the floor again. Quickly looking back up, he saw the green giant had his gun aimed right at him. Up on his feet, he ran for his dear life down further into the decks below, while the Slayer kept up and placed a shot after shot of each round missing its target.

On purpose.

Chambers...

Gwen heard the explosions inside her room. She did not know if she was hallucinating until the boat suddenly rocked violently up on impact the second time. She wasn't sure if this was some sort of rescue or simply trading off one prison for another.

If it was the latter, then she prayed they killed her immediately.

It had been too long since anything happened on the ship. She hadn't seen the light of the sun. Or the chill air brushing her skin. Or even looked at herself.

She thought that by offering to service the ship, she could finally free both herself and her beloved Mathelin of their bondage if they met the druchii's standards.

It was all for naught as she soon realized that "servicing" them was the worst offer she could have made.

First it started with the captain. Then his lieutenant. And then his crew.

Their hands. Horrible hands. She could feel them digging into her skin as they forced inside her repeatedly, while teeth bit through her flesh like meat. The knives that cut her backside wer still as fresh and raw in her memory.

And then there was that witch, who toyed with her with her magic; torturing her with visions of her father... violating her in the worst way imaginable. This was not true, for her father never dared to commit such a heinous act. And yet, it seemed real enough to have happened.

And it probably did.

So when she finally had enough of the pain they inflicted on her, she broke the deal. They in turn killed Mathelin before her eyes. Cutting his head off before it rolled in front of her. Right where she laid bare the horrific scars in front of him.

She screamed for him in despair, before turning her anger at the whor*son that was captain. In response, Viktur gleefully grabbed Math's head and shove it in front of Gwen to force her to kiss his now dead lips. She was broken beyond comprehension, and wae sent back to the dark room that she had been forced to live in. The crew would come in every once in awhile, forcefully relieving themselves inside of her. The witch tortured her some more, this time with a hallucinations of Mathelin as he blamed her for his death while carrying his head in one hand.

And it was rightly so. For all the good that Gwen had attempted, it was but a sham that she walked in. And she paid it with her own broken body.

But lately, she had gotten fewer visits as time passed. She didn't know how long. Even with what happened the other night, it ceased for quite a bit.

Until he came. Viktur had personally delivered a message to her, promising her that she'll be in the hands of another monster. But what good was a promise for? To offer herself another cycle of torment, or to break it for one's selfish desires?

She had nothing to live for. She would rather die immediately than be thrown to another horrible being.

So to finally hear the sounds of fighting upstairs finally gave her peace. Hopefully, she didn't have to suffer the same humiliation as before.

All she needed was for Death to arrive on her doorstep, and end her suffering. She just had to keep watch on the door in front of her, and wait for it.

Heavy footsteps approached her door, and the sight of it opening loudly before it slammed shut immediately had her slowly perk her head up a bit.

Standing in front of her was Viktur, who seemed to look around frantically for something. He instantly recognized the drawers to his left, and immediately went to it and pushed it in front of the door. Looking back, he noticed Gwen was still lying on the floor. He walked up to her and grabbed her from the floor in a harsh manner.

"Change of plans, whor*! I have a better position waiting in store for you!"He whispered, with none of the polite manners that he once had in his voice, before pulling out a dagger and placing it on her neck. It wasn't close as she had expected. Not so much as any contact with her skin.

There was a loud banging on the door and an angry voice. it was Taryn's voice that was yelling outside.

"Dammit, captain! Let me f*ckING in!... W-Wait. Wait! Let me live! T-The captain's inside that room! W-With a whor* in there! That's all I know! B-But you can arrest me! Please, I can cha- wait. What are you doing?! P-Please, NO-"

*BANG**thud*

The sound of what was presumably a gun could be heard from the other side of the door, which meant two things: either it was the Men of the Empire, or more pirates. If it was pirates, then she hoped they were merciful and give her the killing blow.

Silence came, and then footsteps came. They were slow but loud to intimidate on their own. Another brief pause of silence followed, before the door swung open with so much force that the drawer broke in half upon impact as both parts flew off in different directions. It made the captain jolt and almost pressed his dagger to her throat.

Despite very little light entering her prison, Gwen had adapted to the darkness for so long that she could even see the dark corners of her confinement. And what she could see standing before her frightened her.

Standing in front of the door, was a man whose size nearly dwarfed the captain in comparison. Adorned in perhaps the strangest armor, the man's appearance could be akin to that of an otherworldy Grail knight, with the height and musculature of one of those savage northmen she had heard about.

Looking to his hands, Gwen noticed an equally strange weapon, yet he carried it much like a gun. It had a reddish copper hue, with bulky attachments unlike anything she had seen. It looked far too heavy to be carried by any ordinary Empire men.

But what was most unusual were his eyes. She could clearly see his eyes underneath his helm. And they wereangry.

Unblinking and perpetually blank. The man didn't even so much as shift his brows to any other emotion except for rage.

Her heart sank deep as she now realized that the Warriors of Chaos had invaded the ship and she was going to be a prisoner under her new wardens, and hoped that they killed her shortly.

"Stay away from me! Or I'll kill the bitch!" Viktur threatened with futile effort; his voice cracking under pressure, desperation and fear.

"I see Saressa didn't get you! First my glory, then the men, the ship, and now my sister! What do you want that you've already taken from me?!"

The man stood motionless. Not even wincing under the captain's panicked yelling. It only frustrated the druchii further.

"ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!" Viktur yelled. This time the man moved suddenly and so quickly as he now aimed the weapon at face level. Fear gripped the druchii's heart and pressed the dagger deep against her throat. Gwenivar could feel the cold steel push further down her skin, almost to trickle droplets of blood under a shallow cut.

"I-I mean it! She will die!" Viktur yelled. It was at this moment that Gwenivar Sanguine would die on this day, and her passing had finally come to her.

And for the first time since she had become a prisoner to these monsters, she found her voice.

And pleaded.

"...p...pl-please...ki...kill...me..."

The man seemed to understand her. Whether it was out of pity or not, he granted her wish. And pulled the trigger.

*BANG*

A scream came after. But not from her.

She thought that she had finally passed away from the mortal world, screaming all the way as she entered. But it was not to be.

Gwen felt hands on her. Not the hands of those twisted monsters that forced themselves onto her repeatedly; but one who held her with delicate care and tenderness. She opened her eyes and realized that the man had been holding her. Confused, she looked back to where the screaming was. And lying on the floor was Viktur Bloodsong, wailing in horror as he clutched onto what used to be his swordarm, now turned into a bloody stump at the elbow, with only sinew and skin flaps still connected to the forearm.

The armored man soon set her aside in the hands of another person. This time, it was an elf. A druchii. However, unlike the pirates, this one had much more noble features and wore armour befitting of a knight. His skin was pale but more natural unlike his barbaric kin.

"Are you all right?" He asked in Reikspiel. It was a language she recognise but not in her native tongue. Still, it did not matter.

She was speechless, but then noticed something in the corner of her eye. She glanced over and saw four figures walking over to her. Each of them wore the same suit of armor, with several types of heraldries adorned on their mantles. And then she noticed their hair and ears on two of them.

They were the High Elves. And she realized now that they had come to rescue her from her captors.

One walked forth; he wielded a staff and seemed oddly frail and weaker compared to the others. Especially in comparison to the one with a lion's pelt over his shoulder.

"You are in safe hands, sweet child." The elf assured. His smile easing her as did his voice soothe her.

"Do you speak Reikspiel? Or Bretonnian?" He asked.

"...Br...Br-Bretonnian..." She answered. The elf nodded curtly.

"I see." He said simply.

Another howl of pain followed and everyone looked back to see the armored man now standing over Viktur, who this time found his left leg bent to unnatural degrees. It seemed like he was trying to get away only for her savior to stop him from doing so.

"I believe you should be elsewhere." The frail elf suggested. Gwen kept her eyes on the downed pirate before slowly looking back to the Asur.

"...N-No..." She answered. "I-I... need... to see this... once and for... all."

The Asur looked with uncertainty, as did the others, but relented.

"If you insist." He said, respectfully. The dark-haired elf helped her walk towards the scene.

Now, the event was starting. Her knight stood over the now feebled pirate with little resistance. He soon pulled out a gun seemingly out of thin air. He aimed it towards Viktur's face, who was now begging and crying for mercy. He pressed the barrel against the druchii's forehead, slowly. Viktur kept pleading for his life as he was now at the mercy of the green knight.

After a few tense moments, the knight took the gun off of his face for no reason.

Suddenly, he spoke up with coldness in his voice.

"You're not going to die with a bullet in your head..."He said. Viktur looked surprised and seemed relieved at first.

"...but you're going to wish it did."

Soon after, the knight pulled out something far more vicious than anyone had ever seen.

It had the markings of a sword, but bulky like his previous gun and far more brutal to behold. The handle was a large yellow box with a blade sticking out at the front, while the blade itself had "teeth" on its edges.

The knight pulled something on the side of it, which soon made a growling noise akin to that of a wolf's snarl, which then roared in anger just as its teeth began moving at horrifying speeds. Viktur reeled in horror at the fate he would recieve.

"W-Wait, wait! NonononoAAAAAAGHHH!

Raising the weapon over his head, the knight quickly slammed it down onto Viktur's stomach, and what followed would haunt everyone's sleep thereafter.

Screams followed as his sword began ravaging the druchii's innards. Viktur attempted to claw his way out but found his nails gone as he scraped too hard on the floor. He attempted to push it off with his one remaining hand, only for it to be eviscerated as well as the teeth sliced off his fingers to oblivion.

The knight then pulled it up towards his chest, tearing the flesh and organs along the way. The pain must have been so unbearable that Gwen could see Viktur biting off his own tongue, before his teeth shattered under pressure. His voice went from screams of agony to something not evenhuman. It was too similar to that of a swan and it went on like that for what felt like hours despite seconds passing.

The blade came up towards the neck, which ceased the screaming entirely, before the knight went up further towards the chin, and then the head; obliterating everything in the process.

The "sword" ceased roaring and the knight yanked it off; leaving behind what was perhaps the most gruesome scenery put on display. Every single Asur present displayed so many emotions in what they had witnessed.

"F-f*cking hells, Slayer..." The tallest elf muttered, trying his damnedest to comprehend what he had seen. The female Asur put a hand over her mouth, attempting to control her breathing even as she began tearing up. The one with the golden armor behind Gwen soon began vomiting at the revolting display.

The only ones who showed little emotions were both the kind Asur and dark-haired fellow. The former visibly shaken based on his hand on his staff, and the latter giving no more than an eye twitch.

As for Gwen, her simple response was to simply walk right up to the displayed carnage. She simply ignored the warrior and stood before Viktur's corpse.

She gazed upon her former captor's ravaged body.

All the times she spent on the ship, being the plaything of those pirates; being humiliated with so much depravity scarred onto her body, and forced to watch Math die for her cowardice.

It was finally over.

She knelt down on her knees. She continued to stare at the corpse, before her eyes trailed off to the dagger once grasped by Viktur's hand.

Not missing the chance, she quicky grabbed it off his hand and began stabbing onto Viktur's remains repeatedly.

Each strike she felt her emotions ramp up immediately. All the rage that faded from her returned with a vengeance. The first few stabs were done in grunts, then came the yelling, and then the screams.

All of her anger, now channeled into her fists as she continued to stab into the monster she forced herself to bargain with.

Herself. Mathalin. Their love. Their future. All gone. Save for the rekindled vengeance.

Eventually, her screams turned to that of wailing. Tears poured out of her eyes as she began crying, and her innate need to lash out on the dead druchii faded.

Until finally, she stopped.

All the pain, the torture, and the turmoil she had been through, had finally reached its end.

She weeped as her cheeks were stained with dried tears. Only did the touch of something furry had been placed gently on her shoulder did she noticed. She looked up and realized it was the armored man.

The man's eyes had shifted from rage to that of compassion. She had been initially shocked by his appearance, and then horror when he brutally killed Viktur. But now, all of a sudden, this man had shown a gentle side to him as he carefully laid a blanket on her and then picked her up from the bloodstained floor.

"Are you alright now, ma'am?"He asked. Despite the frigidness in his voice, there was softness in it that made her feel at ease.

She nodded, stiffly. Only a blink responded in return. The man then guided her outside where the Asur cleared out to give them space. Leaving her prison for the first time.

The man then stopped and turned to the frail Asur.

"We'll have to discuss the plans later, Teclis. Right now, we'll need to free the slaves. Until then, we have much to talk about."

"Understandable, Hayden." Teclis said. "Thank you, Doom Slayer. Both of you may leave."

Hayden? Doom Slayer? Was that the warrior's name? It was a strange name. Suddenly, Gwen was lifted off her feet and carried in his arms. It surprised her even more.

He continued walking. Never stopping as he reached towards the stairs.

But by now, she felt... at peace.

She closed her eyes and rested on his shoulder.

For the man that saved her was her knight in shining armor.

"M-Merci..."

"M-Merci..." The girl said, before resting on him.

Doom Slayer remained emotionless at the gratitude. But deep down, he appreciated the words.

After dealing a huge blow to the Dark Elves, the battle that ensued was rewarding on its own. Too long had he been without bloodshed, to the point of going mad from withdrawal. So to finally let loose in his element was both thrilling and comfortable.

As for the Druchii; seeing the destruction they had wrought may have been nothing compared to the likes of demons, it certainly made his blood boil to unimaginable proportions. And to see those slaves left shackled to the walls; wasting away from broken spirits and malnutrition made him all the more vicious with his rampage.

And then seeing the girl be used as a human shield; covered in some of the worst mutilations he had ever seen on a human body, was the last straw for him. He didn't waste away the moment he had the Heavy Cannon'sPrecision Boltactivated before he blasted the whor*son's arm by the elbow. And he certainly didn't mind taking his sweet time revving up theChainsawbefore he gave the whimpering c*nt a taste of his own medicine.

Demons may have been the greatest existential threat to the entire universe, but there are still monsters that play second fiddle to them.

And once he's finally done, he'll be damned certain that they dig their own graves first. Because he's got every bullet with their names on it.

Each and everyoneof them.

Chapter 5: Aftermath

Chapter Text

Faded Silence

Doom Slayer exited the deck where he was met with a sombre scene of a victoriouw battle. The Sea Guard was able to suppress the pirates to submission, with many of them now at the mercy of the Asur; their hands tied to their backs.

Several of the guards gave leeway for him as he carried the Bretonnian towards safe shores. The defeated pirates - or what's left of them - looked at the Slayer with fear in their eyes; some averting their gaze when he stared back. The Asur, meanwhile, gave a look of admiration and respect from their faces as he passed by; showing their gratitude to him when he turned the tides. Of course, there was the occasional sneer and disdain from certain individuals, but the Slayer's work outweighed the petty feelings.

Hayden activated the portal in front of Doom Slayer; leading only to the shoreline. There, he was greeted by Alarielle and her handmaidens approaching.

"Oh no..." Alarielle muttered with worry as she saw the woman he carried; quickly pacing towards him. Worry soon turned to horror as she examined the extensive injuries that were found upon the girl's body.

Alarielle looked back up at Doom Slayer's face, which now revealed sullen but still angry eyes behind his visor.

"There are more back on the ship."Hayden chimed in."We will be heading back to town now. I take it that there are healers established over there?"

"Y-Yes, Hayden." She answered with composure. "We have set up tents and resting areas for the wounded. But we'll take her from here."

Doom Slayer nodded. Carefully, he took her off his hands slowly; allowing her to stand up a bit. The girl understood the gesture but kept her hands on him as she pulled herself together and took some steps in. She kept her hand on Doom Slayer's even as she was capable of standing up for herself before she hesitantly let go and was soon embraced by the Everqueen. Alarielle greeted her first with a warm smile.

"It's alright, little one." She assured the Bretonnian. "Here, you will suffer no more."

The girl nodded before Alarielle looked back to some of her guards.

"I will need volunteers to retrieve any survivors from the boat. Any willing to take up the task?"

A couple of them had stepped forward with duty in mind.

"See to it, then," Alarielle ordered. The few handmaidens detached, while the others remained to their Everqueen's side. Alarielle gently caressed a hand on the girl's cheek. The girl shuddered at the touch but remained passive knowing Alarielle was no Druchii.

"What is your name, little one?" Alarielle asked. The girl was straining to form the words in her mouth, but Alarielle remained patient for her.

"... G-...G-Gwenivar... Gwenivar Sanguine." The girl answered.

"A Bretonnian, then." Alarielle remarked.

"Well, Lady Sanguine, you will be in good hands. Until the day comes when you are ready to leave, you will be under my care." Alarielle comforted. Gwen nodded again. This time, she dawned a small but faint smile on her lips. Alarielle laid her eyes back towards Doom Slayer, who never took off his on Gwenivar.

"I thank you for defending our home, Slayer." She thanked. "Is there anything I can do to further help you?"

Doom Slayer shook his head. He then proceeded to check the ammo count on his guns. The ammunition was running low at the moment, save for the BFG and the Unmaykr. Had the dark elves been demons, he wouldn't have worried too much about running out of ammo and just enjoy turning demons into resource pinãtas. Fortunately, he had made modifications to increase the count once the fortress came back.

With little to do here other than allow the elves to clean up, Hayden opened up a portal again. This time, back to the fortress.

"Thank you, Everqueen. We'll take our leave now."Hayden said.

"Have a good evening, Hayden." Alarielle replied. Doom Slayer soon departed, but not before taking one last glance back at Gwenivar, who soon took notice and a sense of longing had been reflected on her expressions. Eventually, he entered and the portal closed behind him; disappearing without a trace.

This left Alarielle, Gwenivar, and the Handmaidens on the beach. The Everqueen looked back at the fragile Bretonnian with concern.

"Come," Alarielle suggested. "We'll see to your wounds."

Gwenivar nodded and complied, both now walking back to town followed by Handmaidens.

The Tower of Cold

In the Land of Chill, neither blade nor arrow could match the penetrating power to pierce the souls of the weak-willed than the Witch King's gaze.

And his gaze set themselves upon the laughable skirmish that occurred on a small town in Ulthuan. The daemon inside Malus was quite descriptive and informal, albeit agitated, when prodded about for information on this mythical warrior.

And what he received from the daemon matched the very description of the so-called "Doom Slayer" just as Malekith watched the knight cut through the corsairs with ease through his witch-sight. The warrior was certainly no pushover. The damage he inflicted was devastating to those wastes of skin, but what caught Malekith's attention the most were the bizarre weapons that the Slayer wielded in battle.

No doubt they were guns as he recalled, but the fact that they could hold so much "ammunition" without the need to stand idle and refill in one sitting was a testament to both dwarfen and human advancements in technology.

And even without the guns, the warrior's battle prowess was unmistakable and far more brutal than even those Norscans that attempted to raid his kingdom from time to time. The fighting style reminded the Witch-King of his youth. When he was still a son of Ulthuan; dedicated to eradicating the hordes of Chaos from his ancestral home.

The sheer bloodlust and scent of copper in the air was all too fresh in his memory. The ferocity on the battlefield was thrilling; in some ways, esctastic even. Not of the accursed slaaneshi variety, but a rewarding feeling no less. Now, while by no means rusty - still in prime shape thanks to millennias of Dhar magic coursing through his veins - the strain in keeping the druchii on a tight leash and defending his seat from both outside and inside his domain gave him little time to practice his swordsmanship. However, the sheer magnitude of violence that was shown rekindled the flame that was long buried and forgotten inside him. Now, it was stirring and roaring with cries for blood and combat.

The blood of Aenarion had reawoken. And Malekith would relish it when the barbarians come crashing through his doors. All thanks to this knight.

However, his ever careful-pragmatism sought to keep his excitement in check and remind him of the present danger. For all of his admiration for the Doom Slayer, he also had to be wary of the threat he posed. On the one hand, the provided evidence he had witnessed could potentially be used against the daemons of Chaos. Based on Tz'arkan's reaction and madness, this warrior would prove himself valuable to the Witch-King's army.

On the other hand, it was clear that the Doom Slayer was no friend to the Druchii. What's worse was that he made himself clear that he already made himself a clear cut ally to the Asur, much to Malekith's disdain. This would prove difficult to have the Slayer switch allegiance to Malekith's side. And if the daemon's words to go buy, no amount of riches nor woman will sway him to the Witch-King's cause.

Which meant that he'll have to resort complete domination over the mythical knight. Whether through strength or magic.

Malekith could only stroke the chin of his mask as he watched the aftermath of Doom Slayer's rampage. Such anger and hate in his movement would nonetheless be useful provided that he could tame him. For every beast captured would come to break and submit to his will... eventually.

For all of his carnage, there was an odd sense of compassion for the weak-willed races. It seemed as if the Slayer had some sort of connection with a freed slave, even. Curious, but trivial.

He soon took his eyes off from his witch-sight as the sound of his doors opening to his chambers brought his attention. Standing before him was Malus, now recovering from his daemon's brief possession. Beside him was Kouran and three other guards; all of whom keeping a trained eye on Darkblade, who was harmlessly pinching the bridge of his nose by this point.

"Milord", Kouran started, "the sorceresses were able to quell the daemon inside Darkblade. What are your orders?"

"You may take your leave."Malekith waved off."I will deal with Malus from here."

Kouran bowed with his usual stoicism, though Malekith could see him faintly attempt to protest but knew better than to question his lord. The rest of the guardsmen followed suit and left. Only Malus remained in Malekith's presence; visibly strained from the possession but attempting to shake it off.

"How is your head, Malus?"Malekith asked, showing no hint of concern except only for loyalty. Malus continued to clutch his head but responded well.

"Feels as though I had been rammed through a wall more times than it is reasonable, right after getting pissed with black wine." Malus responded, followed by a short apology. Malekith could care less about verbal vulgarity (except when it's too far) and ignored it completely.

"Good. At least I don't have to replace you with a less-than-desired candidate. I can only imagine the number of successors I have to keep replacing before I fully absorb Hag Graef to my own."Malekith commented; hiding little in his condescending attitude towards the Dreadlord. Malus could only grumble, but remained tight-lipped about it.

"Forgive me, my liege." Malus apologized, albeit half-hearted. "This is not the first time the daemon wrestled for control and won. But I have never had this complication before compared to other times."

Malekith could only let a slow breathe escape his mouth.

"Don't torment yourself oversuch."Malekith replied."I don't expect you to be rid of the daemon so quick. You've managed it before, and you'll manage it again. What Idoexpect, however, is to make this be the last incident that involves callous missteps. Remember that, Malus."

"As you will it, my king." Malus replied. Malekith turned away and walked to the balcony.

"You are dismissed."Malekith said. Malus soon departed immediately, not wanting to be the target of his king's ire. Malekith was now by himself. His mother already teleported back to her tower, while Hellebron returned to Har Ganeth along with her followers by mundane transportation.

Good, he thought. For he needed the time to calculate the probabilities of his inevitable fate with the knight. There will be no distractions, this time. Especially with Morathi gone.

(WARNING: Morathi being Morathi as usual)

Tower of Prophecy

"Oh goooooods!"

Morathi was spent from the constant rubbing from her fingers. She was now sweating from self-indulgence and heaved her exposed chest with swelled satisfaction as she watched Doom Slayer slaughter the corsairs like cattle on her bed.

Against all odds, the musclebound warrior somehow managed to be a force of reckoning despite being alone against an entire ship's worth of raiders. And that was before the traitors jumped in and cut down the rest. But even then, the Slayer handled those worthless worms effortlessly.

He was cunning, brutal, and very crafty with his mayhem. His weapons too alien to the eyes but dangerous nonethless.

This was further demonstrated when he invaded the ship. Gods, the speed and reflexes he had were supernatural. The more she kept watching the fight, the hotter and sensitive she felt down her loins. She unconsciously rubbed vigorously until she finally came right around the same time a sorcerous exploded into bloody galore; juices flowing and spraying all over the mirror's reflection. The whole event exhausted her, and her interest in him became infatuation.

"The wonders you could do to me! Imusthave you!" She thought aloud. She was alone in her room with a mirror facing towards her.

Just the thought of him aroused her again with interest; both from a strategic value and for other... purposes.

That said, it would be foolish of her to believe he will be swayed by her beauty alone. A man like him whose sole purpose was war and battle would make a terrible lover.

And what better way than to cast binding wards and seals to make room for such delightful activities?

However, time will tell if he'll be within her clutches. Perhaps he'll come knocking on her doorsteps, even.

"What is mine, I have. What is not, I'll have it. And that includes you, my dear Slayer. No matter how..."

The Faded Silence

The ship, formerly owned by druchii corsairs, was now being manned by the asur, drifting towards the nearby docks to be emptied of its content. Both for supplies and its crew.

"P-Please, we've already surrendered! You can't do this!" A druchii pleaded.

"Let the dead be the judge of that." Replied the Shadow King as his archers executed the pirates with their arrows. Alith walked forward then after as the last of the scoundrels fell beneath his feet; looking on with complete disgust by their existence. He turned his attention towards the Princes.

"There," Alith said. "The matter has been settled."

"For the time being." Tyrion spoke up. "This won't be the last time the druchii will land on our shores."

"Indeed," Alith agreed. "I'll have to increase surveillence immediately."

"My thanks, Alith. Your aid was of much needed respite."

"I am honored, Prince Tyrion. But it was Doom Slayer and Hayden who sent warnings to you." Alith corrected. "Were it not for them, we might have been too late to save this town."

"Which thankfully has been averted." Teclis jumped in. "Besides the damages on the town's infrastructure and Sea Guard casualties, we were able to save the people here from a grisly end. I could only imagine what the cost of our failure would be had we not foreseen this."

"Right, him..." Tyrion trailed off. Teclis could only roll his eyes at his brother's response.

"Brother, you could at least give them the honorifics. It was they who-"

"I know that, Teclis." Tyrion interrupted. "It was admirable of them to hold the line before we arrived. However, my doubts about them have change for the worse."

"Worse? How so?" Teclis asked. Tyrion could only shake his head.

"Don't be so dim, Teclis. Do you not remember how he killed the captain? How horrific he had taken his time to make the druchii suffer under pain of death? It was as if he enjoyed mutilating the enemy before sending them off to the Pale Queen's realm."

Tyrion looked back at Alith. "You saw it as well. Surely, of the times you've hunted in Naggaroth, this was something even you could not stomach!"

Both Asur looked at the prince; not saying a response as they contemplate at what happened earlier. Despite the smooth alliance, they knew what Tyrion meant about the Doom Slayer. For all his help, Doom Slayer was a man of violence. He relished the thirst of combat to an almost excessive degree. Such traits would be too similar to the savage worshippers of the Blood God.

Alith was the first to respond.

"As much as I hate to admit, Teclis, your brother does make a point. Despite being of great help, Doom Slayer seems to possess an uncanny resemblance to the Norscan Bersekers..."

Teclis tried to speak up, but Alith raised a hand.

"However, he still has done more good for us and seems to be more than a simple minded brute. I would even say that he has a sense of... "humanity"... as far as human sayings go, to know the difference between the innocent and the truly wicked."

Alith looked straight into Tyrion's eyes without hesitation.

"In other words, Doom Slayer is a friend to Ulthuan."

Teclis could only sigh in relief at Alith's speech. Tyrion, meanwhile, still expressed his doubts but remained respectful of the Shadow King's opinion.

"Very well, if that is what you believe I will not stop you."

"Thank you, Tyrion." Alith replied. Soon after, Tyrion's squire, Eldyra, approached the three princes.

"Milord, a couple of the Everqueen's handmaidens have arrived to rescue the slaves. They would like permission to come aboard."

"Permission granted. Allow them entry." Tyrion ordered. Eldyra bowed and quickly made her way back to the handmaidens. Suddenly, a bright blue portal appeared before the three. Doom Slayer returned, reloading one of his weapons on the left side before co*cking it with the grip. The weapon disappeared after, leaving Doom Slayer empty-handed, but much more than ready for his next mission.

"Greetings, Princes."

"Greetings, Hayden. Doom Slayer." Teclis replied. "I presume everything is in order?"

"Correct."Hayden answered."When shall we be leaving? My companion is rather eager to get things going."

"We are still deciding." Alith answered. "We are currently prioritizing the supplies and rebuilding. The slaves onboard need to be taken care of, and we need preparations for voyage."

"A sound plan,"Hayden remarked."But time is of the essence. While I do understand the focus on civilians, Doom Slayer is not one for idle hands. The quicker we are to resolve the problems, the faster we set course."

"Dr. Hayden," Teclis started. "I can see where you're going but precautions must be made before you set off to Naggaroth. It is by no means a safe journey. You could wind up dealing with pirates or worse, a hydra or kharybdis." He explained.

"Then teleportation will do. I can set coordinates and we'll be there in no time."Hayden concluded. This only elicit a headshake from the loremaster.

"As convenient as that would be, Naggaroth's magical defenses are nigh impenetrable. Even if you do succeed, there's the likelyhood of raising the alarms."

"I can back Teclis with that claim." Alith answered. "In my years spent infiltrating and routing druchii forces, I can tell you that the magic they possess is a bigger threat to you alone. The sorceress here was one example. Although, everyone else is most likely fair game."

Doom Slayer's only response was to straighten his back while crossing his arms. Alith smirked.

"Buuut I take it this will not be the first dance you've had before." Alith remarked. Doom Slayer shaked his head, much to Alith's amusem*nt.

"Regardless of his flings, I will leave this to you three your own time." Tyrion said. "I will take my leave now. The men will need my guidance. Farewell."

"Take care, brother." Teclis said as Tyrion departed, leaving Doom Slayer, Alith and Teclis to themselves to discuss their plans; moving towards the now vacant captain's quarters.

Unberknownst to them, a handmaiden attempts to listen in on their conversation. Feliceth volunteered in an attempt to gather intel for her mistress. Of course, such a risk may blow her cover and she may have bitten off more than she could chew by this. Worse considering the Shadow King and his warriors were here; making it impossible for her to be in the clear.

Thankfully, she jumped at the opportunity of bringing the thralls back to town under the guise of compassionate qualities.

Foolish for the inexperience, but not for her.

If she could just remain inconspicuous and avoid suspicion, she'll be able to scrounge what she could find.

Meanwhile, another assailant watched intrinisically of the three men conversing; remaining hidden in darkness. The Doom Slayer made quite a buzz for himself now that he managed to not only stop a dark elf raid, but also go toe-to-toe with a sorceress and win. This would certainly impress the Lahmian Queen back home. She always had an appetite for brave and heroic knights.

Of course, gathering the details was difficult when trapped in a crossfire just as the cannons began blasting the town to dust. That proved to be a death sentence for all, but she was lucky to have survived and continued on with her job.

Now, she had to pry for information by herself. With no signs of life-threatening circ*mstances, at least.

Curiously, it seems that she wasn't the only spy onboard, judging by the way one handmaiden looked at the three entering the quarters. Which was too good tonotsiphon information. It was like killing two birds with one stone, by this point.

The greater the rewards she thought.

Hag Graef...

The First Dreadlord of the Black Crag sat on his throne in dour mood as he listened to the riots outside of his home. Many of the denizens cried for his blood in response to his madness, only stopped by the guards protecting his home. Bitterness lingered inside Malus' head. The sudden possession and the ensuing massacre left quite a dent in the drachau's infamy.

He already hated the dark passenger in his head, but this incident left him on an even more sour note. Malus' greatest desire was to be rid of Tz'arkan once and for all so he can live the rest of his life without bother. And he needed it badly.

"I know what you're thinking."Tz'arkan spoke. Malus could only growl as the daemon continued to pester him once more.

"Not hear a single word from your vile tongue, Tz'arkan." Malus snarled.

"I said I was sorry! It's not like I was going to have a panic attack in the middle of your bloody paperwork!"

Malus tried his best to ignore the daemon, but Tz'arkan continued to pester him not unlike a spurning lover.

"You can't seriously think you can just ignore me while impending DOOM is upon us? You are in danger! I am in danger!"

"Oh cry me a river!" Malus snapped. "Even if we are in danger, I can for once feel grateful to have finally be rid of you!"

"You are not grasping the dire situation we are about to be embroiled!"The daemon retorted."The Hellwalker is here and we need to leave this frozen hellhole, far away as possible!"

Malus snorted at such cowardly compulsions. He'll never admit it, but it was unlike Tz'arkan to suddenly be so afraid of some unheard nobody. Rather than be fearful, though, Malus couldn't help but feel amused by Tz'arkan's ramblings.

"Don't you even dare think of laughing while I am warning you of our safety!"

"Pah! 'Safety', you say? When has 'safety' ever been your favourite word?" Malus mockingly questioned. Tz'arkan's mood shifted from laughable cowardice to grim tidings.

"Let me show you..."Instantly, Malus was hit with a premonition. Fire and blood filled his vision, and the screams of a billion souls were singing in his ears.

But his ears did not pick up the screams of inferior races, but that of a Tz'arkan's foul brethren.

All of the most abhorrent beings to have existed unified as one. Each of the four corners of the servants of Chaos gathered in an endless horde. But there was something wrong with this picture. Many of their faces did not reveal malevolence and wicked delight. Instead, they expressed a sense of... fear.

This was a first for the Dreadlord. None of the daemons he had faced - saved for Tz'arkan - could express such primordial fears. The visions soon shifted to something else entirely. It was only then did the truth unfold in the next vision.

Standing opposite of them was not an army, but a man.

A warrior. Alone and surrounded by a uncountable daemons, with nothing but a sword and armor on his back. He wore a dark green armor that was completely unidentifiable by design, and carried a blade made of what could be described as solid fire made manifest. Yet, this same man exude the sense of dread that even a bloodthirster wouldn't dare cross paths.

In moments, the horde began rallying themselves to a fearsome battlecry before charging towards the man with malice. The man, in turn, did as well; charging in what would surely be his foolish demise. Instead, a spray of limbs and blood came. Not from the man, but the daemons.

One dead daemon turn into ten. Then a hundred. A thousand. And not long after, a million dead. By the time the battle ended, a sea of corpses had covered the lands; not leaving a single inch uncovered without mutilated guts. And standing above the red sea was the lone warrior himself.

Covered not in his blood, but his enemy's. And behind him glowed a blood red symbol. One full of rage and hate. An insignia of destruction.

No one in recorded history save for Aenarion could stand against Chaos unless united as an army.

None but him.

The visions soon stopped. Malus felt his head was about to explode as he suffered one hell of a migraine just going by looking into the visions. He almost lost his footing once he was back to reality, but kept his balance on a nearby wall. His blood was running down one passage of his nose before wiping it off with his own gauntlet.

"Now do I have your attention?"The daemon rhetorically asked.

"Clearly," Malus responded. "But so what? Any brave fool could stand against your cousins with such iron will."

"Not JUST any brave fool."Tz'arkan spoke with emphasis."This man is responsible for untold eons of torment for the realm of Chaos. Long before even you and your kin existed. And before that, he had slain trillions of other daemons outside of Chaos. Far more than you could EVER imagine!"

"And I am supposed to be riddled with fear? Those visions mean nothing. If anything, this man is more than likely one of several misguided worms that crawl upon this wretched realm. And if we ever were to cross paths, I will cut him down with theWarpswordof Khainewith hate. And with hate-"

"All things are possibleblahblahblah."Tz'arkan interrupted with a mocking imitation of his vessel's creed - much to Malus' ire - before sighing with bored annoyance.

"Really, Malus? Do you really you have to keep repeating that? Come on, now. And by the way, your "hate" is but a adolescence's hormonal phase to the likes of the Hellwalker's rage. See how that goes when you're alone in a room with him. I'll wait."

Malus' skin went from pale to slight red in outrage. However, there was no way he would be able to lash out at the daemon, physically. So he simply resorted to his most common comeback.

"S-Shut up, daemon!"

"When has that ever stop me?"Tz'arkan proudly retorted. Malus had gotten up from his seat and made his way down the halls to where the riots were being held. Tz'arkan sighed with sincere defeat at being ignore.

*sigh* "Malus, the Doom Slayer is not someone you could easily trifle with on any battlefield. Chaos had the misfortune of dealing with him, and look at what's happened to us? We are but a fraction of our power and stuck on this backwater realm!"

"Tragic," Malus sarcastically replied. "And what would you suggest? Have me run off to some foreign land; holding my tail between my legs?"

"Better you did than die a fool's death. Besides, it's probably better than pleading for your life. I've seen several dimwits try to negotiate with promises of power and pleasure. Even controlling him is a total death wish. I pity the fool who tries to ever think of using him for their own ends.

Malus snorted with disdain, passing by a couple of guards who paid little attention to him just as he continued his way. He climbed down the steps of his home and prepared himself.

"I grow bored of these old wives' tales." Malus complained. "Perhaps quelling the mob should mend my mind for a bit."

"If you think that helps, be my guest."

Malus soon exited his home, where a mob had formed in front of the entrance with outrage in mind. But the Dreadlord did not seem to mind it. Whether words or blade guided him, Malus remained confident in his abilities.

Or as the saying goes..

With hate, all things are possible!

Chapter 6: Aftermath Pt 2

Chapter Text

Captain's Quarters

The three men put all of their focus on their approach to apprehending Malekith. After some time arguing and navigating through the dangers of Naggaroth, they finally settled with counter defences and alternate routes. Doom Slayer was leaning against a chest directly placed behind a wall near the windows; Alith was hovering over a table with a map displayed on it, while Teclis sat in a chair.

This scene would be fine were it not for the fact that the entire room looked like it was straight out of Hellraiser, Doom Slayer thought.

"So it's decided,"Hayden concluded."We will set course in the early morning."

"Correct, Hayden." Teclis agreed. "Tonight's event has thrust us to push forward for Naggaroth. Plus, with the ship still in good conditions despite the damages - which can easily be fixed with a bit of magic - I'd say this will be very convenient for your travels, Slayer."

"Plus, I'll have to send messengers to alert the Shadow Warriors on the front to rendezvous with us," Alith added. Doom Slayer, out of nowhere, grabbed a piece of parchment, a feather, and ink and began writing something down, before showing it to the two.

Gather all of your men. We'll need some extra help.He wrote. That raised a lot of confusion in the room.

"Help? That... doesn't sound like something you need. Unless it's sorceresses you're dealing with." Teclis remarked. Doom Slayer shook his head and continued writing it.

Not for me. For slaves.

"For slaves...?" Teclis asked before realization kicked in. "You desire to rescue them."

"I don't know if I can sendeverysingle one of my men to rescue all of them. And the number of slaves vastly outnumber us. Not to mention, we don't have enough room to takeallof them by boat. If so, then we need to rob a Black Ark and be hopeful that there's enough room for them." Alith countered.

Then we use the portals to transport them to safety. Island may get overcrowded so we'll resort to bringing them to Earth.He wrote. Alith huffed.

"We've already explained this: the portals will be difficult under heavy Dhar influence and I'd rather not risk your world to be in the hands of Malekith. I will not allow it." Alith continued.

That's why I need your men in the first place. They find shelter while the Shadows defend their positions.Slayer wrote back. Alith scratched his left cheek as he analyzed the strategy in his stretch. For about ten seconds, he fully relented.

"Very well. Though, I'm uncertain on whether you could actually counter their magic. But I'll bring at least a third of my men." Alith replied.

"Then leave the portals to me,"Hayden added."With the Fortress now relocated, I can access its communications and send a direct call back on Earth. My people will be notified and be prepared for extraction."

"I can work with that." Alith agreed. "But that still leaves us with the Dhar magic problem."

"I'll work on it,"Hayden assured."But not until the main objective has been complete can extraction begin."

"Fine by me," Alith added. "Would you like to add anything, Loremaster?"

"None that could express further provisions."

Agreed.Doom Slayer wrote.Morning, then?

"Morning." Both Asur replied. The three stood up and left the quarters. They were greeted by the sight of Sea Guard and Shadow Warriors patrolling the ship while making additional repairs to it, as well as adding provisions onboard. Former slaves were being herded off the boat, carefully.

Feliceth left just in time as the slaves were being dragged out. It was a close call just as security was getting tight. Thankfully, her blessings allowed her to slip away and get her intel closely with simple scrying magic placed above her; from where the room was located. All she had to do was act inconspicuous and stand in the spot while pretending to monitor the slaves' exit.

She kept walking alongside the thralls to the false queen's encampment; avoiding eye contact with the targets just as she passed by them. Exiting the boat, she sighed in relief and relaxed her shoulders knowing her mission was successful.

As long as she kept to herself without interference, Feliceth was in the clear.

Some time passed, and after arriving at the encampment, she and her fellow handmaiden released the slaves into the Everqueen's care.

"It has been done, Everqueen." She announced in Alarielle's presence, who warmly smiled in return.

"Thank you, Fayeth. And you as well, Neia. Both of you are dismissed."

"Yes, Everqueen." Both women saluted and departed. Feliceth left, walking away from the pained howls and murmurs; while still staying alert around her.

"Pffft. Only a fool would think to message secretsonthe job."Feliceth mused. She kept at a normal pace, keeping herself aloof to her comrades as usual. Roaming around the town, the only interactions being that of asur patrolling the empty streets littered with debris, who responded only with a simple nod. Besides that, the destroyed town other than the encampment was void of any life.

She kept strolling until she came across a stray animal. A cat. Black in colour but big and beautiful yellow eyes. It sat in the middle of the street and licked its paw. The little creature must've been owned either by a townsman who left in a hurry and had forgotten it. Whoever its owner was, the cat was certainly lucky to have survived the raid.

"I guess it's true what they say about cats: they do have nine lives."Feliceth thought. The cat soon closed in on her and brushed against her leg. Admittedly, she thought it was adorable but before Feliceth could pet it, the cat moved away and wandered off further away, only to stop in the middle of the street. The handmaiden thought about her duties, but she figured since she was dismissed, nothing was holding her tonotretrieve the lost pet. She pursued it at a slow pace, seeing no need to be in a hurry.

The cat walked and turn around corners, with Feliceth not far behind. It was surprisingly slow enough to allow the handmaiden more time to keep track of it; leaving clues to where she would follow. Spending a couple of minutes tracking the cat whilst passing by the Sea Guard inconspicuously, Feliceth located the cat reaching an empty house in surprisingly good condition. It was big in comparison to the rest. At least two stories, it more than likely housed a merchant family living off on trade.

The cat entered through the window. Feliceth felt something foreboding about entering the house. She felt as if something was crawling under her skin. However, Feliceth was not some poor useless maiden. She was a druchii, a warrior of Naggaroth. Not like her pathetic cousins of this Khaine-damned island. She carried a weapon on her always, and there was always her magic she could go back, despite only using it for small utility.

And not being the most proficient with it as well.

Preparing herself with a new frame of mind, Feliceth approached the house with confidence.

The front door was thankfully unlocked, giving her leeway to enter. Inside, it was relatively dark and empty. Feliceth cast a small blue fire from the palm of her hand. The place was now just empty.

There was some food left on a large table, most likely when a family was in the middle of lunch before Tiranoc called for an evacuation. By now, it had gotten cold and was collecting dust by the time she came in. Feliceth continued her search for the cat.

"Pssst! Here kitty, kitty!"Feliceth quietly called out. The only path leads upstairs. A meow was heard, and the handmaiden soon followed the noise. Slowly ascending, and minding the tight halls, Feliceth kept her eyes open to find unusual movement. The hallways had four rooms divided into two on each side; the furthest being on the one end facing the shore.

"Best guess is the cat must've entered the farthest room."Feliceth deduced. She quietly strode forward through the halls. Everything was eerily silent save for her own footsteps. Even though she steeled herself, Feliceth could feel her heart pounding to ridiculous levels. She may not be the most superstitious, but there's no telling if she would be ambushed by one of her own people.

Step by step, she made her way towards the end. She did inspect the first three rooms, though, found no signs of life as she predicted. She approached the final room and strained to hear the cat. A faint purr could be heard, and Feliceth slowly entered. The door was left open, leaving no barrier for her. The room was perhaps the biggest, more than likely made for a couple.

The light emanating from her flame was too dim to visibly engulf the room but partially enough for Feliceth. She scanned the room with the intent of finding the cat, which probably gave her no shortage of patience as she scoured. After a couple of minutes of searching every nook and cranny, it seemed like this game of cat and mice was starting to grow irritating for the Handmaiden. She decided to give up and leave.

*HISSSSS!*

Feliceth jumped back and scream as she saw a blur of shadow jump in front of her. Her flame dissipated as she lost her focus while raising her spear. Moments later, she cast the flame again and searched for whatever thing landed across her. She cast towards to her left flank, only to find the culprit to be rather a mischievous cat sitting on top of a dresser, licking its paw. Feliceth could only groan in annoyance.

"Stupid cat..." She said, spitefully. The cat simply meowed back at her; seemingly not aware of frightening the druchii.

"Ugh, why did I even bother finding you? All of this suspense was for nothing..." Feliceth bemoaned. She quickly turned her back and made her exit.

But before she could, the door slam shut on her just as she walked a few steps out. Feliceth jumped back in shock and now felt her heart ready to jump out of her chest. This time, her fire did not go out and held her spear at bay with only one hand. Eyes scoured the room; looking for possible threats. An inhuman giggle was heard, putting Feliceth on guard.

"Show yourself, wretch!" Feliceth roared defiantly. By now, her voice could be heard from outside, but there's no telling if anyone was nearby. The laughing continued.

"Oh, my dear..."it replied with feminine mockery."There's no need to pretend. No one will hear you curse."

Feliceth greeted her teeth. She kept looking around to find the source of her tormentor. Right now, it was just her and the ca-

"Wait."Feliceth realized suddenly."The cat!"

She turned back to the creature only to find it vanish from its original spot. Feliceth tensed up, realizing that she had fallen into a trap.

"My, my, you've grown quite careless. To think someone like you could be so complacent in her duties. But then I suppose a spy wouldn't make such a great handmaiden."The voice continued, much to Feliceth's shock. But the words soothed strangely to her ears followed by a sickeningly sweet smell of berries and crushed flowers. The scent repulsed her, yet clouded her thoughts. It disoriented her. The handmaiden was losing her grip on reality, as well as her spear. But she proved unwilling to the corrupting influence, despite the aroma overwhelming her senses. Her knees were feeling weak with every second passing; her arms grew heavy from the weight of the spear, and her concentration fading as her eyelids become heavy. The world around her began to spin uncontrollably despite her resistance, the scent drowning her other senses with no barrier to block them. Feliceth was so caught up in the strange smell, she failed to realize that she was face-to-face with her captor. Glowing red eyes filled her vision; leaving her in a trance state.

"There. Was that so hard to cooperate?"It rhetorically asked.

At that moment, Feliceth's legs finally gave in; allowing gravity to take centre stage. However, she felt hands carrying her back from further falling. A low hum was heard as if lulling Feliceth to sleep.

"Hush, my dear,"It spoke."Asya is here to take care of you. All you have to do is tell me what you know about our knight, and then I'll let you off without issue."

Suddenly, Feliceth felt a hand cup one of her breasts; fondling tenderly. A moan escaped from her lips, arousing Asya with interests.

"Perhaps I can extend this with a more... personal touch."

From that moment, the world faded around her, and Feliceth's final moments were now in Asya's hands.

Morning

Doom Slayer spent his time waiting for the repairs on the boat by lifting the rubble around the town. The ship's gunnery caused significant damage to the surrounding infrastructures and blocked the streets because of it. The townsfolk returned only to find their homes in total disrepair. However, many of them were grateful for Tyrion's actions and gave thanks to him. He remained and coordinated relief efforts to the Everqueen's camp with Eldyra at his side. Alarielle and her healers made quick work to help wounded soldiers and the newly-freed slaves at the medical camps while Korhil and his white lions searched for survivors trapped underneath the rubble. A few dwarfen engineers that volunteered worked to rebuild the infrastructures and rescue their kin when the news was brought to light. Doom Slayer, however, made the headlines when he began lifting the heaviest of rubble without hindrance. Spectators watched in awe as he began pulling and dragging concrete blocks and wooden beams to the side of the road unencumbered. He worked tirelessly and pulled through, allowing other Asur to rescue what's left of their comrades underneath the destroyed town.

"Damn, Slayer," Korhil admitted. "Seems you're full of surprises."

"The first of many you'll see should we stay longer."Hayden added, eliciting a smirk under the Slayer's helm. Korhil chuckled at the boast.

"Well, try not to make us look useless." Korhil jested. "Can't hog all the women to yourself, y'know?"

Doom Slayer shrugged. Teclis approached the two men.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Teclis greeted. "The ship has been repaired. Alith is awaiting your appearance, Slayer."

Doom Slayer looked back at the White Lion. "It's alright. We can handle ourselves here. Besides, you've done enough lifting around here. Time you went off."

Doom Slayer dropped whatever was in his hands and began his leave. Teclis walked alongside him.

"Wait!" Both men stopped in their tracks and look back to see Korhil catch up to them with an axe in one hand.

"Since you're going there, you might need something handy to deal with," Korhil said as he passed the axe to Doom Slayer. "It might not look like much, but it may come in if you're feeling desperate. Plus, consider this as thanks for saving the people here."

Doom Slayer took the weapon off his hand and inspected it closely. For one thing, it was beautifully crafted. It was the "shorter" axe of Korhil's dual weapons. The axe head was pretty damn large but possibly had enough force when swung, he thought. He hadn't use melee weapons for a long time save for theCrucibleandDoomblade.And even then, he always relied on his guns and fists to get the job done. However, he felt appreciative of the gesture. He nodded back.

"'My thanks', he says."Hayden read out his response.

"Anytime", Korhil replied. "And don't worry about me, I have a spare back at the armory." Doom Slayer nodded and both he and the Loremaster departed again.

"Enough time has been wasted and we will have you sailing on course. The time has come for Malekith to be put on... trial..."

Teclis trailed off at the last word. Doom Slayer recognized the hint and knew full well of the disgust in his tone. He hated it as much but Teclis seemed to struggle with his conscience.

"I assure you, Teclis."Hayden spoke up."We will make the best of the situation. However, the chances of a peaceful negotiation will be slim, and I'm afraid that brutal companion will have to bring the king by force should this meeting go south."

"I pray that will be your final option." Teclis replied with discontent. Both continued forward, paying little attention to the town. It took around five minutes until they arrived at the ship. It still had the colours of its previous owner, much to the Slayer's displeasure, but he supposed it was necessary for the stealth mission.

For Alith and his men, at least. As soon as they reached land, he's going to make some noise for everyone to hear.

The Shadow King stood aboard the main deck, patiently waiting for Doom Slayer.

"We will be sailing shortly. A couple of more supplies and we will be on our way. Any goodbyes before we leave?"

"We do, in fact."Doom Slayer looked back at Teclis and pulled out a small device from one of his pockets.

"This is an earbud, Teclis,"Hayden explained."This device will allow me to communicate from a long distance. Meaning I can call you from Naggaroth all the way back to the island."

Doom Slayer placed the device on Teclis' hand. The loremaster with curiosity and wonder at the earbud.

"How does it work?" He asked.

"Simply place it on your ear. The soft layer will be lodged in your ear canal."Hayden instructed. Of course, the loremaster was having difficulties and applied the earbud rather awkwardly. Doom Slayer stepped in and helped the Asur readjust the device.

"Better?"Hayden asked.

"Much better." Teclis answered. "My thanks, Slayer."

Doom Slayer simply raised a thumbs up in kind.

"As I was saying,"Hayden continued."I can communicate with you no matter where. Should you ever make an urgent call, press the button on the side of it. Let go of it after to allow me to speak. Rinse and repeat."

"Thank you, Hayden, for the instructions." Teclis replied, gratefully. "And you as well, Slayer."

Doom Slayer nodded. Out of the corner of his eyes, he soon noticed a strange hooded figure hiding behind a pack of crates looking towards the two. Doom Slayer took initiative and immediately strode past Teclis and made his way towards them. The stranger took notice of his approach and quickly attempted to escape through the busy crowd. Doom Slayer, however, was faster and grabbed them by the shoulder before they could make a run. A yelp came out and the Slayer realized it was a girl's voice. He pulled the hood out and realized it was Aliathra. She looked at him with a mix of fear and embarrassment and reacted as if she were a tortoise hiding under her shell. Doom Slayer let go and calmed down, easing tensions between one another immediately. Teclis caught up with the two and immediately recognized the Everchild.

"Aliathra? What are you doing here?" He sternly questioned. Aliathra winced at the lowered tone she received.

"I... heard about the attack and decided that I volunteer to help with the survivors." She answered. Of course, that was a lie and both adults looked unimpressed with her. Doom Slayer crossed his arms while Teclis shook his head in disappointment.

"Right," Teclis said. "Then I suppose the guards have turned the other way while you 'freely' walk around without supervision, correct?"

"Yes!" Ali responded. "More or less!"

Teclis pinched the bridge of his nose with an air of annoyance.

"Ali. You know you're not a child anymore, yes? You are expected to uphold your duties as the next Everqueen right after your mother. No more lies. The truth, Ali."

Aliathra pouted but sighed in resignation.

"Alright, I snuck over here right after hearing about a Slayer striking back at the pirates. I wanted to see the aftermath of what happened."

"And?" Teclis drew out. Aliathra rubbed her arm.

"...And I heard about Slayer leaving today. Wanted to say goodbye before he left. I wish we got to know each other."

Doom Slayer rolled his eyes but relaxed his shoulder. Damn kids, he thought. Teclis, meanwhile, sighed.

"Then I'm afraid there isn't much to see. Rather fortunate, really. And while it is kind of you to say goodbye, you should at least come here with proper security." He lectured. "Come, we'll have to return you to Lothern before your mother finds out."

"That won't be necessary, Teclis," A voice spoke, grabbing the three's attention. "I have already been informed."

Doom Slayer and Teclis turned back to see Alarielle - alongside her Handmaidens - and Tyrion standing behind them. Although, this time, the Everqueen was the one to speak while Tyrion remained uncharacteristically quiet. Alarielle approached with a stone-cold expression. While nowhere near as menacing as the Slayer's hateful gaze, he knew better than to go between a parent and her child. Aliathra stood there sheepishly, twiddling her fingers as her mother neared. Suddenly, Alarielle pinched her daughter by the ear before dragging her out.

"Owowow! Mother!" Aliathra whined. "I can explain!"

"Nonsense. I already know enough." Her mother replied. "You left home without any supervision. Thus, causing a stir among the maidens. Then you decided to come here despite the hazards around here, as we have still yet found all the remaining pirates."

"Actually, we've found all the pirates." Tyrion corrected, earning him a hard glare from the Everqueen.

"...But I'll double the patrols to keep searching in case." He sheepishly said. Doom Slayer found that to be odd considering his bombastic attitude. Alarielle smiled.

"Good, now where was I?" Alarielle continued. "Ah, yes. Thirdly, you've decided to snoop around under false pretenses that you were here to help. What do you have to say to yourself, young lady?"

Aliathra whinnied a bit under the pinch. "I-I'm sorry, m-mother!"

"Will this be the last you'll ever try that again?"

"Y-Yes!"

"Good." Alarielle released her grip, letting Aliathra rub her ears, tears almost swelling in her eyes. The Everqueen looked back at Doom Slayer with a bright demeanour.

"Apologies for the scene. I was told you were to leave soon. I am here to give my farewells."

"Thank you, Alarielle,"Hayden answered."It was a pleasure to discuss your people's culture and magic. As it was with Teclis."

"Oh, likewise, Hayden!" She replied. However, she soon dropped the smile. "However, I fear that the voyage will not go accordingly. While you are indeed capable of protecting yourself, I do worry Naggaroth may cause you trouble."

"Worry not, Everqueen,"Hayden assured."Trouble happens to be the Slayer's... approach."

Alarielle smiled brightly. "How assertive! Best of luck!"

"Goodbye, Everqueen. Everchild. Tyrion.

Doom Slayer nodded. As he was about to leave, he took one last look at Aliathra, still cupping her ear. He reached out a hand and gently patted her head, much to the shock of everyone. Tyrion and the Handmaidens were about to pull out their swords but Alarielle raised a hand to stop them, strangely amused by the scene. Aliathra was turning a little red in embarrassment, while Teclis could only stare in stunned silence. Doom Slayer wasn't sure what came of him to make the gesture, but he did somewhat felt sympathy for the girl. He took his hand off and left with Teclis without much fanfare. The rest stared long until both were out of sight.

Walking a bit further from earshot, Teclis spoke up.

"I hope that'll be the last time you'll ever do such a thing. The Everchild is not to be touched. Or given head pats." He warned. The Slayer simply shrugged.

They returned to the ship, Alith standing expectantly near the side port.

"Had your goodbyes yet?" Alith asked.

"Affirmative."Hayden answered. Doom Slayer nodded in turn.

"Good," Alith said. "The last of our supplies has been boarded. We'll be sailing shortly.'

"Thank you, Alith. I must speak a few words with the Slayer and Hayden." Said Teclis.

"As you wish." Alith walked back to the ship, leaving the Loremaster and Slayer.

"Well then, Slayer, Hayden. I believe it's time we separate."

"Indeed. It was a pleasure doing business. If you have further questions, use the earbud. Until then, we will bring news of Naggaroth. Until next time."Said Hayden.

"Likewise." Teclis replied. Doom Slayer outstretched his hand, allowing Teclis to shake in return. "I look forward to our future endeavours."

"As am I, Teclis. So long."Doom Slayer walked up the ship just as Hayden finished his words. The board was removed, and the ship began unfurling its sails. Teclis was not the only one, however, to watch the ship leave. Tyrion and his family watched while Alarielle and their daughter waved goodbye to the Slayer. The ship continued drifting towards the ocean, before disappearing further from the island.

"May the Winds of Magic guide you, Slayer."

The Tower of Cold

Malekith gazed upon the north with neverending vigilance. Chaos was drawing near, and the Witch-King had made preparations for the assault. Many times have they besieged Naggaroth and many times they have failed to ravage the lands of the Druchii. For these lands were under the watchful eyes of not only the Witch-King but theTrueSon of Aenarion. And Malekith will see to it that the Dark Gods will be crushed beneath his feet.

The barbarians' futile attempts will just be another failed conquest.

Malekith sighed in a sombre mood. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

Once, a proud son not only to his father but to Ulthuan itself. He wanted to live up to his father's legacy and protect his home from the vile daemons. He was even willing to lead his people as the next Phoenix King just so he could march north and end the blight once and for all. All to safeguard his home.

But the Princes, damn those fools, gave the crown instead to Bel Shanaar. To his admission, Malekith took the replacement with stride and for a time, he had instead taken to venturing the outside world, where he had made vast discoveries over there. But time erodes, and with Malekith, his noble heart turned to envy and arrogance. And in his arrogance, Malekith took to poisoning Bel Shanaar... and step into the Fire of the Phoenix.

But the Spirit of Asuryan rejected him. Unworthy of his deeds, Malekith was forever scarred from the flame - skin permanently burned and charred despite ages past - and banished along with his mother and followers, where they would spend thousands of years residing in their icy kingdom of Naggaroth. Forever plotting against the traitors who cast them out from their home.

Now, all Malekith could do was reflect on his past. How things could have been different had been the Phoenix King. Alone.

"My son... why let this grief consume you?"

Malekith froze. He turned to face the voice only to find nothing.

"Why take your anger on your own people... when the fault lies upon you?"

"Who said that?"Malekith snarled."Show yourself! And face me with whatever dignity you have left!"

No answer was given. Only silence.

As Malekith tempered the fire in his blood, a dim glow was made present.

"Would you dare raise your sword against the one who breathed life into you? Your own blood?"

Facing the intruder again, Malekith turned with magic in hand, only to stare in shock at what greeted him.

"...Father...?"

"Hello, Malekith."Said Aenarion."It has been a long time since I... since I have left in your mother's care."

His form - still in his prime, wearing the armor he had worn in his war against the forces of Chaos - stood not proudly, but solemnly. His eyes, however, were heavy with guilt and regret as he looked upon Malekith - his son - in his twisted form. Malekith, meanwhile, composed himself and made eye to eye with him. Though, he strained to look into his father's eyes with all of his wills, while also hiding his shame behind his mask.

"Indeed."Replied Malekith."Why have you come here? Of all times?"

Aenarion sighed before speaking."Is it wrong for a father to see his own child? Let alone see what he has become?"

Malekith was seething. The first words that were brought in this reunion were shame? It deeply wounded him to hear them.

"I am a king, father,"He said with conviction."I have brought order and discipline to my people. This kingdom follows my word... as I have with yours."

"What you have brought... is nothing but suffering and pain. To them, to the rest of the world, and yourself. Your words deceive them... as it has to you."Aenarion deflected as if a dark imitation of his son's words. Malekith's lips tightened.

"What reason has given you to visit your son? If not to scorn me, then what else?"He asked, keeping an eye on the north. Aenarion thought carefully of the next words to come out of his mouth.

"I... have come here to warn of the apocalypse that draws near. You and everyone in this kingdom will not survive."

"Heheheh..."Malekith laughed grimly."That's the second time I've been told of it. Mother said the same earlier. I worry not, for it will be just another failed raid."

"But you should,"Aenarion warned."This is no meagre raid. It is an invasion. No one will survive this torrent. Not you. Your mother. No one... unless you unite Ulthuan as one."

Malekith snarled at the name."And what would you have me do? Bow and prostrate myself to the princes? Where they will show mercy by separating my head from my shoulders? It is a foolish endeavour."

"But it is the only way that the world may yet survive a terrible fate."Aenarion continued."Finubar is dead. And Ulthuan is without a king to lead them."

"I know."Replied Malekith, already made aware of the king's death in Ulthuan through his spy network."And I say good riddance. It will make conquest all the more smooth knowing that they are headless and squabbling amongst themselves."

"You willnotraise your sword against our people!"Aenarion chided."They do not need a tyrant at the helm! They need a leader to look to!"

"Yet I was the one that protected them from the creeping darkness that plagued them thousands of years ago. While Ulthuan grows bloated with their own petty squabbles and poetry, I remain here tirelessly vanquishing the Enemy to preserve what is rightfully mine through conquest!"

"And what of the innocent? Of those who you send armies in retaliation when they could not defend themselves? Why shed the blood of our kinsmen?"Aenarion questioned.

"Because they denied me!"Malekith lashed out."They denied me as their rightful ruler! The Son of Aenarion himself! Who was there to defend them when the Defender himself vanished?! Who protected them when Chaos returned and ravaged their home?! IT WAS I! MALEKITH! THE TRUE KING! I WAS THE ONE THE COURT SHOULD HAVE CHOSEN! THE ONE WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN EMBRACED BYASURYAN HIMSELF!"

"They denied you because you killed their king!"Aenarion retaliated."Poisoned him when he was to be the next in line! Asuryan rejected you because of this monstrous act alone!"

"You think of me as a monster...?"Malekith replied, wounded by his father's words."I did all of this... to make you proud...! To live up to your name!"

Before his father could speak up, Malekith ripped off his mask in rage. And whatever anger Aenarion felt was washed away as he could only look on in horror at what was left of his son's face. Skin blackened by the fires; crumbling and oozing with painful blisters. Half of his nose was missing and the lips were almost gone, leaving a near-permanent grin behind.

The only ones that barely changed were his eyes. Eyes as green as emerald that burned brightly with hate and torment. And through it all, Aenarion could see the heavy burden and pain his son had gone through all these years.

"Tell me, father..."Malekith started, his voice almost cracking."Do youstillconsider me a monster..? For trying to measure up toyou? For believing thatIalone could protect my homeland?"

Aenarion was speechless. He closed his eyes, pained by the sight of his son's scars. This only angered Malekith further.

"...TELL ME!"Yelled Malekith. Aenarion slowly opened his eyes. No longer did anger consume him. Only remorse.

"...I taught you in the way of the sword so that you may one day protect not just yourself... but of our most sacred home. Your mother... despite the darkness in her heart... taught you magic because she believed that you were gifted with the blood running through your veins. But what we-... what I... should have done... was to raise you as my son."

All of the anger inside Malekith vanished. But the bitterness yet remained. He cast his eyes away from his father.

"Leave now."He simply said."We are done here."

Aenarion remained still until he found his voice.

"...A harbinger will come... and he will give you an offer. Accept it... for there is no other choice but oblivion..."

"I said...leave."

In the midst of it, the door to his throne swung open and approaching was his loyal guard Kouran. Blackhand stopped in his footsteps, initially confused by his lord's order. Malekith was facing directly to the north and stood still. It unnerved the Black Guard but there was an urgency that needed to be addressed.

"Sire? Were you speaking to someone?" Asked Kouran. "I have urgent news, but I can return another time."

"No. It is nothing... I was simply alone with my thoughts."Malekith responded."What news do you bring?"

Kouran gulped but cleared his throat.

"Sire, I have received news from the shades that the watchtowers from the north have been destroyed. The warriors who've attacked them bear the symbol of the Blood God. They outnumber us, my lord. Shall I raise the alarms?"

"Hmm..."His king hummed. Malekith placed his mask back on and turned to Kouran."You have my consent. Have every soldier armed and ready. And alert the other towers. Tonight, war comes to us."

Kouran nodded and bowed respectfully before. Malekith called upon theDestroyerand made his way out.

"On this night, I will show Khaine that I am worthy, and sing to him with the screams of my enemies."

Blodfest - Danheim

North of Naggarond

A darkshard screams in agony as the spear,Slaupnir, is pushed further into his guts. Valkia could only look in disgust at the wretched elf beneath her.

"Ugh! A skull unworthy to Kharnath! How meagre of a gift to send." She said before wrenching the spear out and taking a wide arc to the neck. The scream ceased and the head went flying off elsewhere on the snow. The bloody skirmish around her was dying down now. What few dark elves there were made a run for the trees.

Cowards, they were. She would have sent her most precious hounds to go after them, but she quickly reconsidered it to be a waste of time. Besides, this was a much-needed exercise for the berserkers. The time spent chasing across the south has made her army restless and hungry for combat. And with the cowards retreating, that meant an even bigger battle, meaning more worthy skulls to gift to the Lord of Brass. Valkia smiled at the prospects. The End Times draw and the world will drown in the blood of the weak.

She surveyed the battlefield. The latest watchtower was engulfed in flames, while marauders and berserkers continuously search for bodies to sink their axes into, screaming for the glory of Khorne himself. However, rather than join the revelry, the Gorequeen set her sights on the Black Towers beyond the treelines.

The tallest could be seen several miles from where she was; the tip almost piercing the heavens above. However, she knew fully that it was a mere illusion of the distance they were in. In truth, they were still a long way to go arriving at the gates. Valkia was ever annoyed with the reality of the distance between them and glory!

At the very least, her shield shut up for once.

"Brothers of slaughter!" A voice rang out. Valkia turned to see Wulfrik gathering the attention of every warrior in the midst of slaughter.

"We draw close to filling the Hound's cup with blood! And within it, the blood of the elves shall sake Khorne's thirst! Those weak milk-drinkers hide behind their thick walls for comfort! But no wall will stop us... for Khorne has given blessings to our cause! Praise to the Blood God!"

The warriors cheered on with reckless abandonment. Valkia snorted sharply at his speech. Although, to her admission, he sure knew how to boost morale from time to time. And a party as well.

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over her from behind. She looked up to see one of Khorne's most prized champion and fellow butcher.

Arbaal the Undefeated.

He sat still on top of his mount, a prized flesh hound bred by none other than the Brass God himself, and looked down on the Gorequeen.

"Do you not wish to join the slaughter, Valkia?" He asked. Not out of concern, but more questioning in her odd behavior. It pissed her off to no end that he was staring down at her from his position.

"Arbaal," She greeted first; barely hiding the contempt in her voice. "Still surprised that you would join my army. I figured you would be in Ind like Wulfrik."

"With the rest of the North still in disarray, such opportunities are now limited." He answered, to which Valkia agreed.

"Hmm. Agreed." She said. "And to answer your question, this 'slaughter' is not fulfilling enough. Each watchtower we go, we have so little blood to shed in His name. The prize is not within our reach, just yet."

"I can agree to that. Hmmph." He hummed. "The elves, despite the Wanderer's claims, are worthy tributes to Khorne's name. But I am eyeing something for Khorne's attention."

"Oh? And what would that be?" She asked accusingly. Despite the helmet being in the way, a smirk resonated behind it.

"You know what lurks beyond the dark elves. In the realm of Alfheim. You're not the only one seeking it."

She grimaced. "Then you understand the threat, haven't you?"

A dark chuckle was heard. "Has the Gorequeen herself suddenly feel so easily frightened by superstition?"

"Careful with those words, Arbaal!" She snarled, her spear now aimed at his throat. "Unless you would like to be unseated and be fed to your own hound, then I advise you to be extremely cautious of the next words that come out of your tongue!"

He looked impassively at her but his hound made the lowest of growls at the perceived threat.

"I meant no offence, Gorequeen." He said with barely an apology. "I meant it in healthy competition. We both wish to please our master. And I intend to give the greatest of prizes in His Name."

"And I intend to make sure that you do notinsultme again." She threatened. "Piss me off for the final time, and your skull will be His ashtray."

"I understand." He concluded, before riding off elsewhere. Valkia was irritated by the conversation but eased herself with another stab on the corpse.

"Gorequeen!" A voice called. This time, it was Wulfrik again. She could only grumble again at the witless warrior.

"What do you want, World-Walker?" Asked Valkia.

"No reason but to give thanks, of course!" He proudly said. "With you at our side, our army shall see glory when you lead at the front!"

"An honor, I suppose." She faintly thanked. "Any other reasons to bother me?"

"Saw the argument from afar." He said indignantly. "Not getting along, I take it?"

"What business do you have invading other people's privacy?"

"Seems there's a bit of rivalry going on between you and the Undefeated. I take it has something to do with 'you-know-who'?" He answered, indignantly. This did not impress her one bit.

"Leave such matters to me. We will keep marching until we are at the gates of the Witch-King!" She commanded. "This skirmish is only a taste of what comes next."

Valkia soon ascended towards the sky, her wings spreading in their crimson beauty. She could see every face looking directly at her as she took to the skies. Even the Undefeated could not help but stare directly at her from above, which left no shortage of superiority for her.

"NORSCANS! You have all heard the World-Walker's speech, and I can say that to be true for Khorne's followers. But we are not even close to fulfilling Khorne's horn. Naggaroth still stands, and I still see the eyesore that is the Black Towers! Tonight, the rivers of Khorne shall flow endlessly with the blood of elves! And we will be the ones to shed them in His Name! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

The warriors roared in anticipation. Wulfrik joined in on the revelry while Arbaal remained silent even as his hound howled with the crowd. Valkia could feel no shortage of pride and bloodlust.

"FORWARD!" Valkia ordered as she aimed her spear to the south. The warriors ran forward with bloody fervent and tirelessly marched down south.

No longer did she plague herself with worries. Only did the love of Khorne fill her mind.

"The world calls... ripe for our taking!"

Chapter 7: Black King, Red Queen

Chapter Text

The Warp

A meeting was called among the Dark Gods themselves. Khorne was the one to uphold it as he realized that the others remained distressed and hysterical with the Hellwalker's arrival. He was immune to his presence, of course. Given his title as "war god", his mind was thankfully intact. And as much as could laugh at their misery, it was becoming detrimental to their followers and were needed for the Everchosen's schemes.

All the gods sat in their respective seats. And what the Blood God witnessed was completely laughable and somewhat pitiful.

To his right, Tzeentch was jittering and shaking in his seat; constantly clattering his teeth while shifting and morphing his form exponentially than usual, all the while scribbling notes on his paper before throwing them over his shoulder. To his left, Nurgle kept bawling and weeping while still holding on to a completely soaked, disease-riddled piece of napkin in one hand. And finally, sitting opposite of him was Slannesh, who in many ways got off worse than the other two. Still in hir ridiculously pink bathrobes, with countless empty bottles of elixir alcohol lazily strewn on the table, she looked absolutely miserable compared to even the Plaguefather himself; glaring back at Khorne who was nonetheless unphased.

Seeing the state of things, it was high time that Khorne himself had to step in and get the others back in shape.

"It appears that there has been... distress in our realm. As you all know by now, the Doom Slayer has come to this world. Which most likely means that Hell has failed to contain him. However, I believe it's best that we enact with our business as usual, and that all of us presume with the current present."Khorne suggested. This earned a snide remark from the Dark Prince.

"Of course, the warmonger has the brains to be the diplomat while Tit-Snitch here is snivelling and trembling with fear."Slaanesh sneered.

"IT'S TZEENTCH! AND I AM NOT SNIVELLING!"Tzeentch snapped."I-I just need to make calculations and contingencies to avoid further derailment from existence."

"WhAt's ThE PoINt?"Nurgle wheezed."THe DeSTROyeR haS retURNeD! We ShOUlD juST gIvE uP aNd PAcK evERyTHing we HavE AnD rUn."

"And where to, you waste of flesh?!"Slaanesh snarled."Do you honestly think we can just up and leave like last time?! We have lost the means of opening up another dimensional gate after those bastards tricked us and threw that rabid dog to our direction!"

"W-Wait!"Tzeentch jumped."If they have failed, perhaps we can somehow send a message and lend in a peace offering! Surely they woul-"

Suddenly, Dark Prince threw an empty bottle at the ever-changing god, who was too distracted to notice the glass shatter in his face; causing him to squawk and clutch his own face at the retaliation.

"SCREW THEM!"She screeched."I WOULD RATHER HAVE SIGMAR'S HAMMER UP MY ASS THAN SAY SORRY TO THOSE sh*t STAINS!"

"oF COuRsE, yOu wiLL."Nurgle gurgled."It'S tHE oNLy ThINg yOU'Re gOOd At."

"Still hung up on Isha?"She retorted. Nurgle jumped out of his seat and began hurling literal garbage, which was met with an even more repertoire of insults from his fellow god, followed by Tzeentch joining on the three-way battle. Khorne watched in silent annoyance as he listened to the colourful language involved.

Tired of their childish tantrums, Khorne stood up from his seat and slammed his axe onto the table before them.

"ENOUGH!"He yelled in command. The impact from the axe was enough to disquiet the other three, forgetting whatever argument they had earlier. The axe disappeared and the table began to reform after. Tensions had lowered, but not eased. Khorne spoke up once more.

"Let me remind you all that our current Everchosen is heralding the total annihilation of this world. If he succeeds, we are free from this realm and granted the means of conquering stars yet again. However, to do so, all of our followers mustbein proper mind. I am the only one whose loyal subjects haven't been affected by the same madness you three have subjected yourselves to. And as a token of... gesture... I will be the first with the most casualties. The three of you have yet to face him, so take this time to bring your followers back up to speed."

"And what does that make you, brute? The designated leader?"Slaanesh questioned."You, of all gods, benefit from this whole drama! Why should we obey you?!"

Nurgle and Tzeentch oddly enough agreed and looked at the Blood God with suspicion. Khorne said nothing at first. Only leaning slowly on the table.

"I never said I was. However, I amtheGod of War. And it is my purpose to lead the front. You three need to lick your wounds and get yoursh*tback together. If not, then I'll die first, leaving the rest of you headless to fend off the Hellwalker's rampage. But with all four together,wemay have the chance to end his pursuit of vengeance. That is...if... we co-operate. Any protests?"

All three stared in silent contempt. But there was no argument to be made. Tzeentch, for all of his rivalry with the Brass Lord, was the first to agree.

"As much as I hate you, Khorne... you certainly make a point. The pieces are moving and we cannot afford another delay. This will be our greatest plan. We cannot restart. Only push forward."

"I... cONcEDe."Nurgle wheezed."My cHILdRen WEeP aND THeRE iS nO onE To sOOtHE ThEiR PaIN. I mUST RetURn To tHEm aNd NurTURe thEM bACk tO HaPPIneSs."

Khorne nodded and finally laid his eyes upon Slaanesh, who was still in hir miserable state.

"Slaanesh? Do you have any issue with this?"

The silence was the initial reception. Eventually, She gave in.

"So long as that fool is killed by one of you, then I'm willing to lend my hand."She answered.

"Good."He replied, sincerely."Then the matter has been settled. Off you go. I have a slaughter to witness."

The gods went their ways. Khorne was glad to see this bickering end. As much as he desired their demise, this was not a time to do so.

War has awoken, and he would see the end with blood flowing and skulls surfacing to the top.

Mein Herz Brennt - Rammstein

Tower of Cold, Naggarond

The snow died down. Silence stirred the wind for what felt like forever. Only did the sound of muffled footsteps break the silence.

Hailing from the north, hordes of barbaric warriors and followers of their Dark Gods march towards the walls of the Dark Elves with steel and malice. Giants, dragon ogres, and mammoths shake the earth underneath their feet. Skalds banged their drums and bannermen hold the flags of the Blood God's emblem.

Leading at the front was the Gorequeen herself. Behind her, was a mass of over four hundred seventy-five thousand men; a third of the original worshippers. The army had been divided into three groups. Arbaal's legion was to attack Ghrond and Har Ganeth, Wulfrik's to raid Clar Karond and Karond Kar by ship, and Valkia's to annihilate Naggarond and Hag Graef after.

She marched until she saw the gates before her. The army halted as she raised her hand in the air.

The walls of Naggarond stood between them and the city; casting their shadows like immovable titans. Even giants could not reach the true height of them, for the Dark Elves took pride in their cowardly ways. The tower stood proudly in the skies; a blight to the eyes of Valkia.

This only angered her more, which made it all the better when she finally toppled the tower and separate the Witch-King's head from his shoulder.

She could see the elves on the walls; no doubt awaiting their arrival. They will meet their demise soon enough.

With spear in hand, she raised it overhead and sounded the cries of war.

0:56

"CHAAAAAAARGE!" She roared. And the warriors of Chaos began to swarm the walls with righteous fury.

From the tower, the Witch-King looked down at the red mass. Flowing from the north like a river of blood, the barbarians were chanting their wretched god's name and howled their creed with bloody murder as they swarmed the walls. Monsters began to besiege and readied their weapons to strike down the barrier that protected Naggarond. Darkshards and Bolt Throwers on the walls began shooting barbed bolts; striking in a storm of arrows that repelled the first wave of marauders while slaves threw rocks down under at the survivors. Harpies let loose by their beastmasters soared through the air and swooped down on any unlucky prey they could get their talons on while Manticores butchered the warriors with tooth and claw. The monsters took the brunt of the assault but still were undeterred as they reached for the walls. The sorceresses that Morathi lent were of great use and threw their dark magic at the barbarian and their beasts of burdens as their dark pegasi flew above them.

Malekith then took notice of the leader standing front and center to his crowned jewel. Through his sight, he instantly recognized her among the crowd. Where the barbarians charged mindlessly to the walls, this one stuck out like a rock against crashing waters.

Suited in bloody red armor, with horns curved over grey hair and wielding spear and shield in hand; both gruesome in visage. Her appearance was distinguishable against the background.

Valkia the Bloody. The Bride of Khorne.

As if sensing his presence, Valkia stared back at Malekith and smiled maliciously.

But Malekith was unafraid. Not in the least bit. Carrying his sword, the Destroyer, on his shoulder, he raised his other and magically beckoned Seraphon to him. The dragon arrived and landed in front of him, bowing his head to allow him to mount. Malekith climbed up and took his seat on the dragon's back. Mounted and armed, Malekith adjusted his holsters and prepared himself.

"Conquer the skies, Seraphon!"He commanded."Burn the savages!"

With one mighty roar, Seraphon jumped from the tower and spread her wings. Other black dragons heard her call and followed her lead. They flew from the west and spewed black fire on their unsuspecting enemies. Those who took notice managed to throw up their shield in an attempt to avoid the agonizing flames. The rest, however, were completely engulfed by the flames, including some of the monsters who swung mindlessly in an attempt to die the flames down; accidentally killing their allies in turn. The result was the scent of burning heathen flesh filling the air and disrupted cooperation by gigantic beasts; stirring the other monsters up in a frenzy. This was not over, however, as the survivors recovered and regrouped as they continued their assault. Malekith knew that this was not the end of it, and was prepared for the next step.

From the east, a portal opened up and out came scores of Cold One Knights and Doomfire Warlocks. Leading at the front was Malus Darkblade, riding atop his nauglir - Spite - and charging with warpsword in hand. The Khornates that were still recovering had little time to defend themselves as the cavalry crashed into the hordes. Heads and limbs flew into the air as the riders swung their blades into the Khornates while their steeds sank their teeth into unprotected flesh. The berserkers were not helpless either and took down some of the riders as well in retaliation. The riders soon regrouped and retreated as a portal opened up.

It was far from over, and the battle raged on. Malekith surveyed the grounds as his dragon continued flying above the battlefield. More barbarians kept coming, and there was no end to them. As he continued to survey, a high-pitch noise caught his ear. Malekith looked up and saw Valkia descend upon him with her spear. Malekith magically cast hisSpellshieldto his free hand and raised it within mere moments as the spear crashed into the shield instead. The shockwave from the impact staggered both fighters in the air. Malekith was almost unholstered from his steed but Seraphon remained steady and made sure her master was alright. The Gorequeen continued her attack but Seraphon snapped back at her with gnashing teeth. Valkia raised her shield; blocking what could have been a fatal blow. Seraphon backed off and prepared to spew fire upon her. Khorne's bride flapped out of the way and dodged the incoming flames. She then retreated and Seraphon was on the hunt. Both rider and beast chased after the Gorequeen through his city. Valkia swooped through the streets as Seraphon tailed behind; unleashing black fire as the daemon princess narrowly escaped through tight corners and loops.

The chase went on for too long and it frustrated Malekith to no end. Followers of the Blood God, despite their infamy for bloodshed, were somewhat honorable and were renown to never flee from a fight. Yet Valkia was suddenly going directly against those tenets and had him chasing all over his city.

"Just what are you planning, wretch?"He thought.

As he saw her go around the corner, Seraphon followed only to find her suddenly vanished out of thin air. Malekith was confused and quickly noticed that he was at a crossroads. The Witch-King looked everywhere; fully prepared for a surprise attack.

As he predicted, he sensed her approach from behind and raised his shield once more. What he didn't predict was Valkia charging straight to the dragon's head with her shield as a battering ram. The blow disoriented Seraphon and was now crashing towards the asphalt below. Malekith grabbed on for dear life as they got closer to the earth. Seraphon wound up crashing into a building while her master was sent flying into one of the rooms. Malekith crashed and found himself on the floor face first. Despite the pain, he forced himself up with his falchion and looked around; struggling to get his bearings. He paid little attention when Valkia body-slammed him and sent him flying outside the building. His circlet and adrenaline were kicking in and Malekith was now grabbing onto one of Valkia's horns; losing her balance in the process and taking her with him. Both crashed to the soil below from several feet above. Valkia forced herself back up and charged at the downed king. Malekith was quick to dodge to his left as he narrowly avoided the barbed spear landing into his chest. His falchion and shield were nowhere to be seen, forcing him to block with his gauntlets as Valkia swung her spear. The blow sent him stumbling back but manage to roll over and get back on his feet. With enough distance, Malekith managed to teleport before she could attack again. He reappeared cast his weapons back in his hands again and blocked the daemon princess' spear and retaliated with his own swing. Valkia likewise blocked and kicked him away, using her wings to keep her distance.

Both leaders were now alone but armed. The sound of battle raged in the background but was paid little attention by either of them. They circled one another, keeping themselves at bay while observing each other's movements. Valkia dragged the tip of her spear; sparks flying as it scraped the floor beneath her feet.

"It is a great pleasure to finally claim your skull, Your Highness." Valkia started.

"Do not flatter me, Bride of Khorne."Malekith replied. Curiosity piqued her interest.

"You know who I am?"

"Enough when I had those barbarians under my service. And several others."He answered. Valkia laughed grimly.

"Then you know why I've come here."

"Enlighten me."

"Very well. The Blood God has deemed you a coward. You are nothing but a usurper. A false king. Kingslayer and Oathbreaker. He has deemed your skull worthy to collect... worthy to be used as a slave for the Daemon forges."

"Heheheheheh."Malekith laughed at her god's demands."It'll take more than a few meagre words to have me cower. And what makes you believe that you to be so mighty when you yourself have made those same mistakes? You've had me chase you across this city, unmounted me from my steed without warning, and tried to kill me while I was unarmed. You are as honorless as I am."

Valkia growled in kind. "Yet honorless, you remain! You do not deserve a warrior's death! You will die a wretched parasite while I tear that crown off and show it to my beloved!"

"Then come and prove your claims!"

Valkia roared and charged at him with Slaupnir while Malekith raised his shield and prepared to strike with the Destroyer. The clanging clash of steel and the furious roar of two lions echoed the air of war even as the siege continued from the walls.

Tower of Prophecy, Ghrond

The sound of battle raged outside of her fortress just as Morathi remained in her blood pool. The magical fortifications she had installed were put to good use and her guards and sorceresses gave their all in fending off the Norscans. Morathi took the time to settle in her pool for a bit before she made her escape. She just wanted to enjoy one last bit of respite, really.

The dust from the ceiling, of course, ruin that measure of peace to herself and forced her out of the pool.

"Damn buffoons..." She grumbled. She grabbed her towel and wiped herself dry. The mirror in the room began glowing and it brought to her attention. She approached and reactivate to see who had called.

The mirror's reflective surface changed and shifted to reveal the caller. Laying in front was Feliceth herself; equipped in her Handmaiden armor. Oddly enough, she seemed a bit... relaxed.

Her helmet was slightly tilted to the right, much of her equipment had been assembled in a rush, making her look as if she either had a hungover or had was distracted on duty - or both - and there was a noticeable hickey on her neck. Not that Morathi cared much but she waited expectantly.

"Greetings, Mother Morathi."

"Greetings, my child," Morathi replied. "What news have you bring to light?"

"Great news, Mother." Feliceth answered. "The warrior you seek is on his way to Naggaroth."

Morathi blinked in surprise. "I beg your pardon."

"He's heading to Naggaroth, milady," Feliceth repeated. "He'll be arriving in a week from now. He just left the island this morning."

Morathi's lips instantly form a grin as the thought of the knight's arrival excited her. She didn't have to lure him after all. Just let this man travel by his lonesome and he will surely land in her clutches the moment he set foot on Druchii shores.

"Good! Good!" She exclaimed. "Such wonderful news! This will speed up my plans! Care to explain why he wanted to go there?"

"Yes, m-mother. He intends to arrest Malekith." Her spy answered. Morathi's grin remained but her eyes widened again.

"Come again." She flatly said.

"He is planning to arrive in Naggarond with the attention of bringing the king to Ulthuan on trial. He is with the Shadow King as we speak."

"W-What?!" She screamed. Morathi fumed in rage, earning a wince from Feliceth. That cursed Alith was heading with the Slayer as well. She hadn't forgotten that time he snuck into her fortress and stole the Stone of Midnight. The nerve on that man! She ended up getting an earful from Malekith for her incompetence. How was she supposed to know that the party she was hosting had been infiltrated by Alith in disguise as a guest?

Just the thought alone flared up her wrath all over again. At the very least, that Slayer was coming so not all was lost. But the problem still remained.

If they plan to arrest her son - however impossible that task would - then she needed to prevent that fruition to come.

Morathi stared back at Feliceth as she waited expectantly of her mistress; eyeing worriedly of her fickle temper.

"You have done well, child. You are free for now."

The girl was surprised but relieved to hear.

"M-Most generous of you, Your Ladyship!"

"Yes, yes! Shoo! Before I change my mind!" Morathi hissed. The mirror changed back to its reflective; the sorceress back to her thoughts.

"Now to warn Malekith of this news... or perhaps swoop in at the last minute. Eh, my son has enough worries for today."

Just then, a loud crash came in. Marauders had now breached her fortress and a trio of them had just crashed into her privacy.

"You will die, witch!" The leader screamed in his ugly tongue. "BLOOD FOR THE-"

Morathi telepathically sent herDarkswordinto the exposed throat of the screaming barbarian. He died choking on his own blood and Morathi's steel; falling into the pool without fanfare. The other two were taken by surprise but quickly rushed in on both sides; knowing Morathi had lost her precious weapon in combat. The second closest charged in before Morathi summoned a portal in front of him where he fell from a great height; screaming as he plummeted to his death outside of her fortress. The third was in reach of her but magically froze as she reacted quickly on her heels. The man was in mid-swing but was now helpless. She summoned her blade again to her hand and slowly slit his throat. He would remain there until the magic would fade, where he will bleed to death by the time it ended. That is if he died hitting the floor.

Morathi sighed in annoyance. She quickly summoned her armor and thenHeartrenderas she prepared to make her stand.

"Idiots." She huffed. "Can't even do so much as defend my own home."

Morathi took one last look at her crystal ball. Scrying yet again, she located the ship that was now heading to Naggaroth.

"A week, she said? Hmm...why don't we speed that ship up a bit, eh?" She said. With a slight gesture, the wind that blew the ship was now picking up speed; guiding the crew to their destination. Morathi smiled at her small accomplishment.

"There we go... now to wait as I spill barbarian blood in my home."

Walls of Naggarond

"KEEP FIRING!" Kouran barked. "SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF KHAINE! DO NOT REST WHILE THE ENEMIES STILL STAND! WE ARE DRUCHII! WE DO NOT KNOW DEFEAT! ONLY VICTORY AND DEATH! DRUCHII!"

"DRUCHII!"They roared. The darkshards and reaper bolter throwers continued firing at the enemy down below. The numbers continue in their attempt to break through the walls even as they fell beneath a storm of bolts. The monsters, on the other hand, were a bigger issue. The harpies and manticores did well harassing the gigantic beasts of Chaos, but few managed to get through and approached the bastion.

"BOLTERS! AIM AT THE MONSTERS!" Kouran ordered. The arbalests took aim at the beasts, but the sheer mass of the giants meant their thick skins would be able to be penetrated their barbed bolts. Chaos giants and dragon ogres used their mighty clubs and hammers to break the thick walls. Some dragons began attacking them and caused enough delays to give the druchii more time to cause significant damage to the titans. Kouran hoped the walls hold long enough that they could repel Chaos invasions once again. But the biggest worry he had was his lord. He had last seen him chase off what was presumably the leader of this force somewhere in the city. Kouran had sent several Black Guards to aid his lord and prayed that they make it in time. While he doubted that Malekith will be in serious trouble considering his fortitude against impossible odds, crucial moments like this would be are too risky to be unconcerned for His Highness.

As Kouran was lost in thought, the giant shadow of something large was coming dangerously close above him. A Black Guard threw him to the ground; saving them both a grisly fate as a Chimera swooped down and wreaked havoc on the wall. One of the beast's heads spewed fire into a group of druchii and slaves misfortunate enough to be in its vicinity before flying off with a darkshard clamped down in one of its mouths.

Both Kouran and the Black Guard stood up, but this was interrupted as blasts of burning iron balls crashed onto the walls. The Black Guard that saved him was caught in the blast; writhing in flames before falling to his death down below the wall. Kouran had no time to mourn - for such was a weakness - but he did wish to give thanks before his demise.

Another hit to the walls and Kouran stayed to the floor until the barrage of hellfire stopped. Moments later, he stood back up and looked over the walls. Hellfire Cannons manned by Chaos Dwarfs began assaulting after. Barrages of them spread throughout, causing considerable damage and taking a heavy toll on the crossbowmen. Druchii scrambled for cover; some falling off the walls as the blasts reached the top in flames. Some had even abandoned the reapers, but Kouran stood up and directed orders.

"EVERYONE! BACK ON THE REAPERS! CONCENTRATE ALL FIRE ON THE CANNONS! THAT'S AN ORDER!" He ordered. Bolt Throwers made haste but took aim as commanded. Several struck true as the Chaos Dwarfs were skewered and impaled; some even destroying the Hellcannons as well. However, such a victory was short-lived as the monsters were now closing in. A dragon ogre slammed the walls with its mighty hammer; trembling the ground beneath the druchii's feet. A chaos giant uses the carcass of a dragon and threw it over the walls before heading towards the gates. Kouran barked orders to aim back at the beasts but with fewer reapers manned, the damage they dealt was less impactful.

"Captain!" A black guard alerted Kouran. "The shades returned! It's the Witch-King! He's duelling with the warband leader! The Black Guard tried to support him, but she wiped them out!"

Kouran stared in horror but was moving with instinct.

"Dammit! Damn he to Khaine's sword!" He snarled. He looked to the remaining soldiers. "All of you concentrate on the enemies! If any of you abandon your positions, I will make sure that you get thrown off the walls before you face our Lord's Wrath! That ismypromise!"

"YES, CAPTAIN!"They yelled in both fear and obedience.

"NOW GET BACK TO IT!" He yelled. Soldiers returned to their positions. Kouran spoke to the man for the final time.

"You will stay here and make sure all of them do as they are told! Any of them break my word, throw them off! That includes you! This isnotan excuse for a promotion!"

"At will, sir!" The man obeyed. Kouran moved him aside and made his way down the walls; barking a couple of his black guards to follow him and riding off with black steeds.

"Dammit, I just hope I'll make it there in time..."

On the streets of Naggarond...

Malekith gritted his teeth as he parried another blow from the Gorequeen's spear. Valkia raised her shield in turn as Malekith swung back his sword aimed at her neck. The battle continued for almost an hour as they traded blows. Both had not tired in the slightest; all too caught up in their murder prowess. Only briefly did the duel stop when the Black Guard to help their king, only to be cut down by the Bride of Khorne herself. This did not even hinder Valkia at all. It more or less annoyed her to no end before returning to facing the Witch-King again.

"UGH! JUST DIE ALREADY!" She yelled.

"And grant you the victory you so desire?! Your god must be hard to please!"He taunted.

"SHUT UP!" Valkia launched a flurry of attacks; forcing Malekith on the fence. Malekith studied her movement and fighting style in order to counter and predict her incoming attacks. She was like most worshippers of the Blood God: reckless, rabid, and without finesse. Yet, she made it up with ferocity and strength that could put witch elves to shame. Malekith, however, fought scores of her people. Each and every one of them was the same; she just stood out by a few inches above them.

Malekith thought of his next options. The first - and possibly ridiculous - option would be to tire her out until she was exhausted. Such a tactic would be a time-waster and a death sentence as Khornate berserkers were notorious for pushing beyond the limit if it means striking down their enemies. Any further delay would cost him his life no matter how fully-suited he was in his armor.

The second would be to lower his guard and follow it up with a riposte. Though, formidable as his opponent was, she was too focused on gaining the upper hand on him rather than consider countering whatever exploits that left her exposed. Which left plenty of openings for Malekith as he calculated the next possible outcome to take advantage of.

Both options, however, were proven fruitless as Valkia leapt above and prepared to land a strike at his face. Giving him a third opening.

He raised his shield just in time as she crashed into it; her spear's tip bouncing off one of Malekith's horns. With momentum, Malekith threw her in tandem with Spellshield. Valkia crashed to the ground on her back; losingSlaupnirandLocephaxfrom her grips. Malekith wasted no time and closed in on her with sword raised above her.

Suddenly, a loud inhuman shriek pierced the air and crashed into the earth. Malekith was thrown off by the quake but was steadfast against the trembling. Malekith looked up and saw a three-headed monstrosity shielding the daemon prince. It bellowed a terrifying roar; its draconic head spewing fire into the air. The distraction was enough for Valkia to recover her weapons. The Gorequeen smiled to receive intervention from her god.

The chimera eyed hungrily at the Witch-King with all four heads. Malekith in combat stance and braced for an attack until Seraphon swooped down and attacked the beast. The chimera's draconic head was being attacked; shaking and gnashing as it tried to shake the black dragon off its back. Malekith was slightly relieved to see Seraphon come to the rescue. However, with four mouths against one, Malekith could only feel worried for her. Of course, such a thing could easily be solved with a flick of hand gesture.

With one hand raised, Malekith used his magic summoned a beast worthy to aid Seraphon. Behind him, a building erupted and rising from the debris was a colossal war hydra. The serpent crawled forth in subservience to its master. The Witch-King aimed his sword towards the chimera. The hydra obeyed; dragging itself to clash with the four-headed beast. The chimera now looked upon the massive monster approaching and roared in defiance. The hydra sprayed fire on its opponent, causing the Chimera to back away in pain. The chimera launched itself into the serpent, causing it to stagger. It fought with tooth and claw; gnashing at the larger beast in fury. The hydra grabbed ahold of it with a couple of its own heads while Seraphon leapt forward and crashed into the chimera; knocking both monsters onto the ground. Malekith smiled behind his mask and turned to face Valkia.

The Gorequeen closed in on him, but Malekith braced himself and was ready when a sudden intervention had come.

Out of nowhere, black lightning struck Valkia and threw her against a building; crashing into a wall and crushed by the rubble. Malekith searched for the origin of the attack, only to find the most unlikely of saviors.

"Your Highness." Greeted a most familiar sorceress. "I witnessed you in combat with this wretch. I could not help but... aid you... for your safety. I offer my service."

Malekith scoffed."It was not needed... Felicion... but you have my gratitude. No more than that."

"I am forever indebted to you as always, my King." Felicion responded. Her grin greeted his eyes but devoid of any warmth behind it. Soon, the sound of thundering hooves drew near. Kouran finally arrived with a contingent of the Black Guard behind him.

"Lord Malekith!" Called out Kouran. "I am here to aid you! The messengers have told me of your battle! I came here as soon as I could! And with the Black Guard in tow!"

"And what of the wall?"

"It's being defended but the men are being overwhelmed. Your presence would greatly win the tide of battle if I may speak boldly!" Kouran responded.

"That is concerning."Malekith agreed."But that will be settled for a later time. Mine is currently rising as we speak."

All three turned their heads toward the downed Valkia, who was now rising from the rubble; angrier than before. Malekith was in combat stance again, now with support on his side this time. Felicion glowing with magic on his left, Kouran clutching his halberd in his hands, and the Black Guard flanking in front to protect their king. The Gorequeen staggered and fumbled, but no worse for wear. A loud screech deafened the air and landing near the two opposing sides was one of the chimera's heads. Seraphon landed behind her master and roared into the sky. The hydra, meanwhile, snapped the chimera's remaining head by the neck, before casting the body aside and crawling towards the Druchii.

Valkia could only glare and growl at the enemies now surrounded her. Twice, the kingslayer summoned his men to do his work. Twice, he was now among his own people. Coward. Malekith made his way to the front.

"You are surrounded, khornate."Malekith announced."This duel is over. I have won."

"Wretched elf!" Valkia snarled. "You think yourself the victor but you are merely playing underhanded! I will tear you and your soldiers and serve your skulls to Khorne for this transgression!"

"I will not. But yours will do."Magic sparked in the Witch-King's hand, followed by the sorceress. Both unleashed the might of their power, but Valkia managed to avoid it as she soared to the skies.

"This is not over, betrayer! I will have your head!" Valkia roared before flying back to her army. Seraphon was about to take flight until Malekith bayed her to stay. The dragon whinnied as he stroke her nostril.

"Everyone back on the walls."Malekith ordered."Felicion, summon a portal and get the men and hydra to their stations. I will be there shortly."

"As you will it, Your Highness." Felicion conjured up a portal and the Black Guard soon walked and travelled back to the bastion. Another large portal opened and the hydra crawled in. Both the sorceress and Kouran soon followed; leaving Malekith to himself and his dragon. Malekith sighed in discontent. Seraphon sensed his displeasure and cozied up to him. The Witch-King simply scratched her cheek with affection but his mind was clouded with troubled thoughts.

If his Witch-sight was correct, the armies of Chaos were besieging not just Naggarond, but to the rest of the citadels. Valkia's army had splintered into three groups; each of them big enough to invade two for each of Naggaroth's holds. Even with all the magic and monsters on his side, Valkia's had numbers and daemons. The latter of which he had yet seen.

If Naggaroth were to fall, then all of his goals will be gone with the wind. Ulthuan would be taken by Chaos, not him. Ulthuan washisto take. It was his destiny. He will live to see it rightfully claimed by the True Son of Aenarion. Not Chaos. Not the Asur Princes. Only Malekith. The one and only.

"It is not too late, my son... there is still time left for you."

Malekith turned his head to the voice behind him, only to find his father standing there; a face of sorrow greeting his son.

"Why are you still here, father?"Malekith questioned."Why come to me on the eve of battle? Had I not made my intentions clear?"

"I never wish to turn against you. Only that you become better."

"I am better!"Malekith retorted."I am supreme! I am the Witch-King! Chosen of Khaine!"

"That is not what I meant..."Aenarion voiced his disapproval."This is not who you are. Not who I wanted you to be."

"And what was ityouwanted me to be instead? An inferior? A weak successor? I did everything you taught me to become. A strong and proud Asur! It is not my fault Ulthuan rejected me for slaying that weakling they called a 'king'. I was fit to become their ruler. Not Bel Shanaar. Nor any other Prince."

"And yet, Asuryan did not find you worthy."Aenarion countered."Ulthuan rightfully feared what you would become if you had taken the throne. Just as they had feared... me."

Malekith steeled himself from the melancholy his father's ghost permeated.

"It doesn't matter. I am your son. And once I get rid of these slaves of Chaos, I will sail down to Ulthuan and bring down the gates. And only then, will I take my place as Phoenix King."

"I have spoken this already! You will not go against our people!"His father admonished, though, faintly pleaded."Ulthuan does not need to be ruled with fear! No more fighting against our kinsmen! Cast down the darkness within your heart... and only then are you worthy of Asuryan!"

"Iamworthy."Malekith spoke with conviction."I have done many a great deed even before I pledged my goals to seeking Asuryan's favor. It will be enough."

"And yet, those deeds you've forged are now in ruins. The Dwarfs of the World's Edge Mountains hate us for your deceit and have made you 'oathbreaker'. And on that same continent, the Asrai of Athel Loren have broke all ties with us and want nothing to do with our people."

Aenarion sighed dejectedly."If Snorri and Allisara were here-"

"You don't get to say their names!"Malekith snapped."They have nothing to do with what I was accomplishing! They would never..."

A flash of memory struck him hard. Brief flashes of people he once remembered by. First, came the hardy and bellowing laughter of his dwarfen friend as they swung and slash together against the Daemons of Chaos rang his ears as if a recent memory. The white of his beard and hair still clean even as blood was drawn upon from unholy bodies.

Then, came the lithe body of his late wife appearing in his mind. Her golden hair and pale skin basking in the light of Lileath. The warm smile she wore whenever they reunited. When they were just to themselves; free of any duties and content being in each other's arms. The touch of her flesh and the taste of her lips was all too fresh and painful for him to be reminded of.

The lost of both his wife and best friend had been rekindled. And it hurt Malekith to think of them.

He missed them dearly. And he was now alone.

"...N-Never mention them again."Malekith wearily warned. Aenarion nodded; pained to see his son's wounds reopened because of his words.

"Malekith, my son..."Aenarion gently started."There is still time to change. Let go of the path of the Destroyer... and take the mantle of the Defender."

Malekith remained silent before brushing away and turning back to Seraphon, who watched her master curiously as he talked to empty space. Malekith climbed up to his seat and held onto the reins. The dragon obeyed his whims and flew off. The dragon and its rider disappeared above the clouds as they head to the walls... where blood and battle raged on.

"Will he follow the path Destiny has forged for him? Or will he DOOM himself to repeat the sins of the father?"

Aenarion glanced back at the apparition that now accompanied him. He was like the Defender in many ways save for appearances. He stood taller than the Defender himself, broad in shoulder and chest laid bare. His face aged yet stern and resolute in the face of DOOM. A king of a people long forgotten of their proud heritage; a fate that could perhaps one day befall Elves, Dwarfs and the race of Man, and perhaps the Lizardmen even.

Aenarion nodded in respect but felt dejected at Malekith's continued refusal of his true calling.

*sigh* "Time will tell...King Novik. But I have enough faith that he will listen. But that is his decision... and I must respect the choice he will make after."

"Do not give in to despair just yet, Defender."Novik comforted as he laid on the Asur's shoulder."He is strong-willed... but even I can sense the fire roaring inside him. He still has the nobility beating in the heart... and the strength to overcome the pain."

"I know..."Aenarion agreed."I hope to see him change for the better."

Novik nodded in agreement."That is his decision... as you have said earlier."

The Defender laughed grimly but brushed it off."We can speak less about myself. Is the harbinger making his way to his destination?"

"Indeed."Novik answered."Your wife has made his journey relatively faster than expected. I can only fathom the reasons behind such hastened travel."

"Aye. Morathi has not changed one bit since I departed from this world."Aenarion lamented, fully aware of his second wife's...eccentric...lifestyle."Still, it is fortunate she has tipped the scales in our favour."

"Mayhaps you should visit her before your departure? To rekindle old flames, I mean."

Aenarion stayed silent on the matter; conflicted in his expressions.

"...Nay. She has enough on her mind right now. I cannot bother her with more complications."

Novik stared at him blankly but shrugged."If that is what you have decided on, I won't press further. Regardless, the world of Mallus is changing. The Time of Ending is coming. Titans will rise from the ashes of battle and Steel will soon taste flesh and drown its thirst in blood. Chaos grows stronger as their dimension becomes ever closer to this realm. And with it, Hell shall follow its scent. And bring down retribution and hellfire upon its traitorous spawn... and retake its place as the Master of the Endless Seas. Yet, that fate shall never be written... for the Slayer Cometh... and he will bring with him the rage of a countless Fallen and drive his Sword of Vengeance into the heart of darkness. And HE will crush our enemies. And cast down on those who lead us astray."

"Rip and Tear... Until it is done."

"Rip and Tear... Until it is done."

Both warriors - proud and noble, even in death - recited the creed in unison, before scattering to the winds, and watch as the world awaited change. And what Fate had in store.

The Faded Silence

Doom Slayer snapped out of his train of thought. A flicker of something inside his mind made jolt a bit.

"Something the matter, Slayer?" Alith asked; overlooking the map to their next coordinates. Doom Slayer took a piece of paper and grabbed an ink-tipped quill.

"I'm fine."He wrote.

"Just making sure." Alith replied. "Anyways, the winds have gotten strong. And if we manage to get there without hindrance, we'll be due to arrive a day less than previously estimated. Think you can handle the wait?"

"Not really, no."Doom Slayer wrote back."Need to kill. I'm rarely in one place."

A soft chuckle resonated from Hayden.

"You'll have to learn a bit of patience."Hayden said."There's not much we can do but wait."

"And that is precisely how most of my operations work, I'm afraid." Alith added. "My men, will stay vigilant. We'll never know if we come face to face with a Kharybdiss."

"Sounds like a fun time to me."Doom Slayer wrote; a smirk etching from beneath his visor. Alith took notice.

"I can back that up."Hayden added.

"Then be my guest." Alith dryly humored. Much of the trip after was quiet but quick as the winds blew them to the Land of Chill.

A land where a tyrant on his throne awaits...

The Silver Pinnacle

The next day...

The trip was long and tiresome for Asya. After draining much of the information out of her informant - and quite a bit of blood from her as well -, the Lahmian spy took to the skies in mist form and travelled half the world back to her mistress' lair without rest. It extracted quite a bit of energy from her magic but after a day, she had finally arrived on the steps of the Silver Pinnacle's front doors. The Sylvanian fixed up her brunette hair before approaching.

Sisters from other lands yet united by the same bloodline welcomed her.

"Greetings, sisters." Asya started courtly.

"Greetings, Asya." A Kislevite welcomed. "How goes Ulthuan?"

"Quite thrilling, lately. I am here to speak with our queen."

"Surely, you wouldn't mind sharing it among us?" An Imperial urged. "Klara has been telling us about the latest fashions in Altdorf by the Empress. So much that the Countess of Nuln has been seething and pushing tailors and dressmakers to rival Altdorf's."

"Perhaps right after, ladies." Asya insisted. Damn vultures, she thought. The price of information she had was of high value, and she wasn't going to give it so freely. "I'll tell you all about it."

The women looked disappointed but didn't seem to be too fussy about it. They gave her passage and the doors opened to her presence. She turned to mist again and made her way through the ever complex labyrinths that made up the Dwarfen fortress.

Carefully making her way inside; memorizing the routes and paths that reached the inner circle, she finally arrived upon the mistress' chambers.

Black guards watched the entrance and block those who come near the Queen of Lahmia. But as Asya slowly approached, the two guards stared right back at her. The vampire shuddered by their stares and stopped in her tracks.

"She is expecting you." One guard stated. "Enter."

Surprised by this news, Asya carefully made her way inside.

Rarely did one of the sisters ever graced the chambers of the Lahmian Queen herself. And Asya was to be the one to have such a rare opportunity. It almost made her anxious and dizzy of the Queen's attention.

Inside, priceless relics and gemstones glittered the room beautifully in the dark. Gemstones, golden masks, and silver skulls displayed around to symbolise her mistress' power and nostalgia for the past.

Surrounding, the finest breeds of cats wandered the room but eyed warily of the Lahmian.

Finally, within reach, the seven silks were laid before her. And behind it, laid the throne of Queen Neferata.

Asya slowed her pace; carefully as to not interrupt what ever business the queen was conducting.

"Come closer, my dear."A voice whispered in her ear."You have my attention."

By the voice's command, Asya walked further and stood before the silken covers.

"Kneel."It ordered, and Asya did so. She knelt and await expectantly for the Queen's attention. A wind blew in the room, and brushed the silks aside. Looking instead of a figure, Asya found the throne to be empty. Asya was about to stand up until the voice returned.

"I said... kneel." It spoke behind her. Asya realized who the voice belonged to, and made no hesitation to go back to her knelt state. The clinking steps echoed the room and the Lahmian could now see the heels of someone now in front of her. A hand appeared and gently cupped her chin; craning Asya's head upwards and meet the cold blue gaze of the one she served under.

Neferata, Queen of Lahmia and the First of the Vampires. A small grin formed; born out of coldness and hungered intrigue.

"Now what do you wish to tell me, my child?"

Chapter 8: Sea of Violence

Chapter Text

Three days later...

Flying Whales - Gojira (0:00 - 2:26, then repeat on 0:26)

The Faded Silence sailed without trouble as it reached past the long since abandoned Slaver's Point and entered Karond Kar territory. Only the sound of seawater crashed against the boat and distant crows cawing filled the ears of everyone on the ship. Shadow Warriors - who had changed their uniforms to their druchii counterparts - worked tirelessly maintaining speed and navigating the trenches and rocky cliffs that threaten to consume them while honing their skills and blades.

Alith stood at the ship's bow; wearing the former captain's garbs and overlooking the opened path now in front of him. They had reached much earlier than expected, arriving three days earlier than expected. He pondered if Lileath had anything to do with the journey or that the crew was just very lucky. It mattered little to him. They had finally reached Naggaroth. And once they reached past Karond Kar, they will be able to get to Naggaroth; so long as they remain in clandestine. Sea patrols could be anywhere and it would become a hindrance if they were delayed.

Alith headed back to the Captain's Quarter, where awaiting inside was an overly-eager and violent recruit that accompanied him on his ship. His men saluted him as he passed by before going back to whatever they were ordered to do. Reaching close to the door, Alith opened to find the man sitting in his chair. In his right hand, a whetstone was used to sharpen his extended wrist blade. Sparks flew from the grinding and the sound of heavy scraping filled the room. The man that called himself Doom Slayer was visibly impatient to arrive on land. Alith noted the aura that emanated around. Heavy with dread and terror. Even his Shadow Warriors deliberately avoided getting in his way whenever he walked around the ship. Alith could feel it but was unbothered by it. He knew why he was here. And the Druchii will understand soon.

Doom Slayer glanced up at the Shadow King with acknowledgement. He set the stone aside - his blade retracting - and adjusted from his seat.

"Alith."Hayden's voice entered."Is there something you need?"

"Nay. Only to inform you of our whereabouts." Replied Alith. "We will be arriving sooner than scheduled. We are fortune to be without delay."

"Excellent news."Hayden noted."Four days shorter than expected."

"Agreed. But be warned. Once we have reached shore, we will be facing multiple threats standing in our way. The Druchii aren't the only creatures that prowl these lands." Alith warned. Not that the Slayer was any bit concerned. A simple nod was given.

"Duly noted."Hayden replied. Footsteps approached from the doorway. A shadow warrior entered and saluted his superior.

"Lord." He greeted. "A raven has come with a message. As you ordered."

The subordinate soon brought out a small scroll. Alith took it from him and gestured to leave his presence. The scout soon left. Alith unrolled the paper and read its contents. If Doom Slayer could understand the annoyed expression on the Shadow King's brow, it meant something bad had happened.

"Just when I thought our trip was going so smoothly..." Alith groaned. He looked up to Doom Slayer with bad news in hand. "Naggarond is under siege by a massive Chaos invasion. It seems we'll have to wade through the barbaric hordes just to get to Malekith."

Doom Slayer shrugged. Hayden spoke up from the helm."I don't see how much of an issue that could be considered a 'hindrance'."

"I did say there were other creatures besides the Druchii." Alith pointed out.

"And we have the Slayer onboard."Hayden countered."Odds between us and Chaos is stacked against them."

"That remains to be seen." Remarked Alith. He wasn't exactly skeptical, seeing how formidable this man was against the pirates. Alith sighed in disappointment.

"Were it not for Finubar's final request, I would have relished in the fact my people's greatest enemies were now being ravaged by Chaos. And if Malekith ever managed to survive the onslaught, I would have placed an arrow through one of his eyes and claim his head."

"And we would join you, regardless of the King's will."Hayden added. Doom Slayer empathized with the Asur greatly; pounding his chest with one hand.

"My thanks." Alith thanked. Suddenly, a shadow warrior barged into the room.

"Sire!" A shadow warrior alerted. "Something's happened outside! You have to see this!"

Alith and Doom Slayer glanced at each other and before looking back at Alith's subordinate. Alith was the first to move, with Doom Slayer standing up and walking outside. What they witness outside was shocking.

From the east of where the ship made its passing, Karond Kar was ablaze. The Black Tower that pierced the sky was covered in fire and smoke. Screams could be heard on the isle, as were the sounds of warcries. Above the city, monsters flew and swooped down to catch unlucky prey. Alith had no love for his sad*stic cousins, however, but prayed for the souls of their victims that they had been given quick deaths.

On the coasts, scores of longships - both Chaos and Druchii - smashed into each other as reavers on board began clashing against one another. The battles were bloody and vicious, and Alith's ship was close to being noticed by any of the armies east of them.

"Men! Prepare yourselves! We'll be spotted soon! Target the Chaos warriors! Any attempts against the Druchii will only draw attention to ourselves!"

On cue, a war horn was blown in the distance.

*VRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOO!*

*VRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOO!*

Longships were sailing from the isle. Alith and his men were caught, and everyone on board was taking up arms. "Sons and Daughters of Nagarythe! Ready your bows! Take aim!"

On command, Shadow Warriors readied their bows - some wielding repeater crossbows - and prepared for battle.

Doom Slayer, on the other hand, had other ideas.

Not wanting to delay any further - but still wanting to get a bit of action from another long period of withdrawal - took out a very special gun for the occasion.

A very.

Big.

f*ckING.

GUN.

Doom Slayer, much to everyone's surprise, pulled out the largest and deadliest weapon in his arsenal. Alith and the men beside him looked - with eyes comically as wide as dinner plates - at the giant monstrosity Doom Slayer was carrying and wondering just what exactly this one would do.

"What...in Asuryan's fire...isthat?" Alith asked in astonishment and dread. This earned a chuckle from the good doctor.

"This, my friends, is the BFG-9000."Hayden answered; intent on explaining further."It is the most advanced and deadliest weapon that my people have ever created. It can launch a powerful sphere of pure Argent - the closest thing to what your people would call 'magic' - and unleash a volatile energy that will cause a chain reaction and annhiliate anything comes across its path. Think of the sorceress back from the coastal raid. But multiply it to bigger casualties."

The thought alone made Alith shudder. Yet made no protest about.

"Will it be enough?" Alith questioned.

"Oh, Alith, it will be more than enough. I'd advise you all to take shelter, however, within the decks below. Even the helmsman. Hide, now."

Alith looked to his men with clear intent.

"Men! Into the decks! All of you! That's an order!" He ordered. Immediately, he men followed his words without protest. In less than ten seconds, the entire main deck was void of any life save for Alith and Doom Slayer. Alith took one last at him before heading inside.

"Let me know when the damage is done." Alith said, before heading down the decks further. Doom Slayer nodded wordlessly before looking at the longships now approaching. He took aim at the approaching mass and - with a big fat smile on his face - pulled the trigger.

Moments before disaster...

Somewhere in Karond Kar

Lokhir Fellheart was unarmed, wounded, helmetless and at the mercy of the enemy standing before him.

The giant brute was standing proudly with his sword inching near the captain's neck. Lokhir pushed himself upward to meet face-to-face with his executioner. Looking upon his chest first revealed skulls adorned over his cuirass and behind his back like a twisted display of trophies. Some humanoid while others not so. Looking upward further, the smug smile underneath that ugly red beard stared back at him with a literal wolfish grin. Cold blue eyes stared back at him; savouring the captain's defeat.

"You have proven yourself quite a bit of a challenge, dark elf." The barbarian spoke; almost fluently in druhir were it not for the harsh and guttural sound he made. "But, in the end, you proved yourself to be just like every challenger before you."

"Don't flatter me, Chaos worshipper!" Lokhir said defiantly. "For all of your eloquence, you are but a savage hiding behind your so-called 'honor'. What makes you so better than any of us?"

"Well, for one, I'm still standing. You're not." He responded politely. "And besides, it's not every day that someone like you has the honor of fighting Wulfrik the Wanderer himself. Speaking of which, to who am I speaking? I don't believe we have had the proper chance of introductions. I like to know who I am taking skulls from whenever the chance."

Lokhir stared defiantly at the redheaded behemoth, but remain silent. Wulfrik, meanwhile, was simply bemused. He grabbed his defeated opponent by the neck; squeezing enough to allow some air to be gathered. The captain was struggling against the Norscan's grip.

"Come now. You're done. The city is no longer in your hands. The least you could is to go out with whatever dignity that remains. So tell me...what is your name?"

"...Lokhir...Fellheart..." The pirate answered under strangled breath. Wulfrik nodded in sincerity and approval.

"Well, Lokhir, you have fought well. May Khorne welcome you to his halls."

Wulfrik was now prepared to drive his sword into Lokhir's chest. Lokhir closed his eyes and prayed that his death was quick and painless.

Yet, such a fate was not to be. For something extraordinary happened. In the corner of the World-Walker's eye, a flash of green appeared; followed by a trail of death.

From the west, some magic spell was unleashed upon the boats near the bay. Instantly, the green ball began wreaking havoc on the warriors. Lightning was unleashed and warriors left and right was being incinerated. Explosions followed after, destroying the boats both Chaos and Dark Elf. It was attacking indiscriminately. The cries of several of his men were heard as they could do nothing but fall prey to this mystical thing.

Lokhir took notice as well as the orb passed by. Lokhir, for the first time, felt some sense of relief wash over him as he could several longships get blown up to pieces.

Wulfrik let go of him and watched in morbid fascination of this sudden attack.

"By the Gods! What manner of power could do such a thing?!"He pondered.

As if his prayers were answered, voices whispered to him.

The Destroyer had come. The Chaosbane arrives in Naggaroth to parley with the Witch-King. His vision was engulfed with the image of a man in green armor. Behind him, a glowing symbol of dread and power. This was his new prey. And it is Wulfrik's duty to stop Him from reaching his goal.

Wulfrik, now renewed with fervor, set towards his intended goal. Lokhir was no longer in his interest anymore, much to the Druchii's relief.

A marauder came bursting forward with heavy panic.

"Yaarl! The longboats had been destroyed by some sort of foul magic! The scouts say it came from a single boat coming from the south!"

"I know, lad." Wulfrik responded with confidence. "The Gods have spoken to me. Gather all the men available and prepare the Seafang! We hunt the ship!"

"Yes, Yaarl!" His subordinate said. A muffled grunt was heard. Both Norscans turned to see Lokhir crawling away from the two.

"What shall we do with him?"

"Leave him." Wulfrik ordered. "He's no longer of interest. Prepare the ship as ordered. I'll meet you at the docks."

The marauder nodded and quickly departed. Wulfrik stayed behind to give his farewells. He could see the elf trying reach for one of his blades but the World-Walker simply walked up and kicked the blades aside. Lokhir looked defeated and waited for his death.

"Be at ease, Fellheart. I am not going to kill you. I now look forward to bigger prey. You're quite lucky. It seems the tides are in your favour. I'll be leaving you here to catch some breath. Rest here, and then gather your men to fight another day. Farewell, Lokhir Fellheart."

Wulfrik soon departed, leaving Lokhir alone. The druchii felt relieved. Terribly confused but relieved.

The Faded Silence

Doom Slayer enjoyed the familiar roaring sound as the BFG launched a ball of hot green Argent plasma at the nearby ships as well as anything that was within the BFG shot's reaching distance. The exploding ships were like fireworks to Doom Slayer's ears.

He now had three shots left before he ran out. He placed the humongous weapon back into his inventory and now turned to the wheel. He took control and steered the wheel to the east.

It was now Hayden's turn to alert the crew.

"You can come out now, Alith."

The Shadow King and his crew exited the decks and immediately looked to the wreckage that happened. Everywhere, Norscan longships and Druchii warships were left in ruin by flame and destruction. No bodies were found, save for piles of flesh and blood that practically dotted the entire bay.

"Asuryan's flames..." Alith said in astonishment. "How could you even make such a weapon?!"

"It was experimental...which now turned out successful."Hayden admitted. Silence fell upon the Shadow King as he tried to wrap around the cold logic behind the Doctor's inventions. The ship continued its course, now sailing into the Sea of Chill.

Minutes of drifting...

Long moments of silence passed, everyone onboard on edge and remaining vigilant of any surprises nearby. A great fog had crept and soon thickened as they reached closer to the Sea of Malice. The Blacklight Tower could be seen from a distance but no horn was blown; most likely abandoned with the Chaos incursion happening.

"On your guard, men." Alith ordered. "We will be attacked at any moment. I can feel it."

The men fixated their eyes on the surrounding waters. At any moment, the enemy was near.

Doom Slayer summoned the Heavy Cannon with Precision Bolt and looked through the scope. He could barely see anything with the fog on but he was certain they were being followed. Hayden reached the Doom fortress to pinpoint their current location and scanned the surrounding using satellite imaging. Strangely, even with the advanced Maykr technology online, he could not directly map out the fog that surrounded them. Only their coordinates.

"I can't pick up anything outside of this fog. It must be of magical nature. We'll have to rely on our vis-"

*VRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOO!*

Another war horn had called. Alith was ready to take commands until a portal opened. And then came another. And then another.

Exiting them, more longships had appeared and were intent on getting their revenge on their fallen comrades. The Norscans were nearing close to where Doom Slayer was aboard. Alith and his men readied their bows while Doom Slayer switched to the Micro Missile and activated in anticipation.

The first ship that came closest stood out compared to the rest. Its dragonhead far more detailed and monstrous to look upon and the banner of the Eight-Pointed Star displayed freely on its sail. The sight of it greatly disturbed Alith and his soldiers. Doom Slayer, however, didn't bat an eye to it but he did sense a familiarity to it.

The ship's raiders hollered at Doom Slayer's company with warcries and raised weapons. One stood out amongst them and pushed the others aside. This one - as Doom Slayer noticed - was tall; perhaps taller than him even. He was decked out in skulls and other skeletal parts and suited up in sturdy steel armor. The man's hair and beard were red, with his hair styled into a scalp lock. Doom Slayer guessed him to be the warlord of this fleet.

The red-haired warlord began shouting. "Dark elves! Prepared to be boarded by the Great Wulfrik himself! You will be sacrificed to the Gods and I will collect the skull of the Destroyer! The Gods have spoken! For CHAOS!"

"FOR CHAOS!"The raider cried. Alith immediately took action against the announced threat.

"Men! Prepare yourselves! Prepare for battle!" Alith yelled. The shadow warriors nocked their bows and wait for the enemy to come close. Doom Slayer switched the Heavy Cannon's Precision Bolt to the Micro-Missiles.

But the raiders, as it turns out, were the least of their worries as the helmsman called out something much dire.

"BLACK ARK!"

(2:26)

Appearing from the fog, came out perhaps one of the largest ships that Doom Slayer had ever seen before him. The Black Ark reached as tall as the black tower from the now burning Karond Kar; boasting impressive fortifications to its body. It was less a ship and more of a mobile fortress swimming; it practically made the galleon look like a gecko compared to its massive size.

"STEER!" Alith yelled out as the ship was about to collide directly with the behemoth. The helmsman did as told immediately and steered to the right. The Faded Silence made a turn and everyone held onto something and braced for impact. The ship barely managed to avoid crushing itself flat at a head-on collision; merely scraping on the side. It did, however, cause damage to itself but nowhere near life-threatening. It had done little to damage the Black Ark and was fortunate to be now out of its way. The other ships were not so lucky and crashed into the Black Ark head-on.

However, as the galleon safely avoided its destruction, fleets of Druchii warships sailed alongside the massive ark. Passersby watched the galleon sail opposite of them, wondering where this particular ship was going. However, they quickly ignored them in favour of attacking the bloodthirsty raiders invading their waters.

The helmsman did his best to avoid crashing into the other ships, who in turn, moved out of the way. The clash between two fleets was in utter chaos, Everywhere, raiders and crewmen boarded and slaughtered with unrelenting fury. A fight for survival came into play. Flying above, a black dragon and its master descended and scorched longships while kharybdisses swam up from the depths and attack the invaders. In spite of the massive blows, the Norsem*n continued their onslaught with their overwhelming numbers. A kharybdis took to attacking Wulfrik's longship; with all five heads now grabbing unlucky crew members. The Seafang's dragonhead came to life, however, and began snapping its jaws on one of the sea monster's necks. Wulfrik took advantage and began cutting the heads of the kharybdis with his sword and men. They made quick work of it and, despite the losses of a few men, finished it off as all five heads were decapitated and the body slumped back into the sea.

However, with the sea beast out of the way, now they had to fight swarms of harpies and fleets of ships that suddenly popped from the fog.

Wulfrik was furious now. His prized duel had to wait another time.

"Come on, you sea dogs! The sea serpent put up a better fight than you knife ears! Come on and fight the World-Walker himself!"

Alith's ship, meanwhile, traversed through the chaotic skirmish as destruction followed. Thankfully, the ships were sailing from the south so much of the space from the north was available to them.

Suddenly, a dark shadow befell the ship and landed directly on top of them. The dragon from before lowered itself to reveal a dark elf with a rather striking appearance. The elf wore a much-perverted parody of the Asur armor set. Jagged spikes with skulls and serrated edges, and a helmet with blades and a red plume to complete the "evil overlord" look as Doom Slayer noted.

The dragon flew away just as the dark elf walked up to the crew with a sneer and an air of superiority.

"Who is the captain of this ship? Quickly now, before I feed you all to Bracchus!" The elf threatened. With that, Doom Slayer could just shove that prick into the dragon's belly and choke it to death. Unfortunately, Alith walked past his crew and announced his presence; not giving the Slayer the opportunity to do so.

"I am the captain, milord." Alith responded. "To whom am I addressing to? If I may boldly ask."

The dark elf looked offendedly at Alith. "I amLordRakarth of Karond Kar. Greatest Beastlord andyoursuperior. And I would like to know as to why this ship is heading into the wrong direction, captain-?"

Alith remained calm and cooly replied. "Nacir Nighthand. And we had just returned voyage from Araby, Lord Rakarth. We were about to make landfall in Karond Kar when we found the whole damn place burning. We are forced to land elsewhere."

"And you didn't stay behind to help defend my precious city?!" Rakarth snarled in fury. Alith, much to Doom Slayer's surprise, spoke in a similar manner to the prick before him, much to his surprise.

"Tsk! I wasn't about to let those brutes take over my spoils! My men and I earned hard to get what riches we found! Not to mention we barely had any idea that an invasion was happening!"

Both elves stared down at one another; neither flinching nor blinking. The battle was still raging in the background but the ship was further away enough to avoid any losses. Eventually, Rakarth's eyes drifted to Doom Slayer, who remained stoic and unflinching in his gaze.

"And who is this stranger you have with you?" Rakarth questioned. Alith looked back and realized who he was speaking to.

"A sellsword." He replied. "We hired him back in Araby. His services were quite expensive but worth the coin."

"Hmmph." The Beastlord hummed as he evaluated Doom Slayer. "A fine specimen. Where is he from?"

"Don't know. Never says a single word. We just call him 'brute' or 'animal'. Doesn't seem that much bothered."

"A fitting name for such a debased animal." Rakarth remarked. "Fine then, take shore to Hag Graef. I hear they're opened to refugees. Move or I will have you and everyone onboard flayed alive."

"Many blessings, Lord Rakarth." Thanked Alith. "I shall give a percentage of our tribute the next time we meet."

Rakarth turned his chin up at him. "Do as you will. Leave."

Soon after, Rakarth blew a whistle and the dragon returned. The Beastlord mounted atop his dragon and flew upward.

"Scorch these animals, Bracchus!" He commanded, before flying away. The dragon roared and spewed fire on the invaders. Alith took a deep breath and relaxed a tad bit.

"That was a close one." Alith noted.

"You handled it quite well, Alith."Hayden commended."Otherwise, the Slayer would have taken a more...direct approach."

"We don't have that much time. We're still sailing to Naggarond. Just be ready to deal with other threats."

"Loud and clear."Doom Slayer walked off but readied the Super Shotgun in case. The whole trip was tensed after with the battle still raging from the distance.

"Unless we're getting harassed by harpies or a kharybdis, this trip will go jus-"

*CRASH*

As if fate decided it wanted to make things difficult for the prince of Nagarythe, a longship came crashing into the galleon out of thin air. The collision threw the galleon towards shore. Most of the asur lost their footing, including Alith himself. Doom Slayer kept his balance albeit barely. He looked directly at the ship responsible for this inconvenience and remembered it was that viking ginger - Wulfrik - from before. The ship looked like it taken a lot of damage if the burnt wood from different sections of it were to go by. Both ships were now side by side, and the marauders took to invading. Doom Slayer was the first to attack; switching to the shotgun and throwing explosives with the sticky bomb mod on.

The bombs found their targets but the raiders kept on coming. The shadow warriors got back up and quickly defended themselves. Alith nocked arrows and shot as much whenever a norscan came too close for comfort. Wulfrik climbed aboard and made his entrance.

"You think you could run from me, you damn elves?! THINK AGAIN!" He yelled. "I am the INESCAPABLE! I AM-"

Doom Slayer switched to the Super Shotgun and shot his Meathook; launching himself at the World-Walker. The Norscan took notice and raised his shield in an instant. It saved him from being skewed and torched, only to receive a massive blow from a Blood Punch. The impact threw him at a great distance; landing to the centre of the ship and crashing into his marauders as he fell on them. He stood back up to find his shield bent outward. Wulfrik cast it away and held theSword of Thorgaldwith two hands. The remaining raiders that didn't go down were hit by a frost bomb, resulting in the first wave freezing to death before a grenade finished them off. Doom Slayer jumped onto the ship and proceeded to massacre them. The foolish charged at Doom Slayer in an attempt to kill him while the more sane individuals attempt to hide behind their shields in a futile effort to avoid being blasted by buckshot. Doom Slayer stood between them and Alith defending the latter as they recovered.

Wulfrik had taken to observing the challenger as he fought his men. A raider ran towards him with an axe, only to have a haymaker thrown in his face; Doomblade extending past his skull. Doom Slayer shot another slug into another norscan before kicking off the corpse from the first off his blade. He then switched to the Super Shotgun for increased spread and began unloading the ammo in full force.

It was him, alright; Wulfrik thought. The green armor was unmistakable. Although he expected him to be taller than he imagined, the warrior was still impressively tall and certainly built like a fellow Norscan. But that aura he had all around made up for the height and it was clear that his fellow berserkers stood frozen in fear. His fighting style, however, interested him the most. He had fought warriors and monsters all over the world and witnessed marvels that the southerners had brought during times of war. Bretonnian knights, sigmarite priests, greenskins, elves, and dwarves were fun to fight but they all eventually died by his hand. This man, on the other hand, was able to pick off his crew like flies on a hot summer. And even his guns were brutal by the southern standards. Wulfrik stopped gawking, however, as he witnessed his men being killed faster than he could count. The mighty Sarl took charge and re-entered the fray.

Doom Slayer simply reloaded and was about to take another shot until Wulfrik charged in full view. He pulled the trigger but the aim was swept as Wulfrik backhanded the gun; instantly dropping and landing elsewhere. He pulled out the Doomblade in time as Wulfrik's sword dived towards his neck and blocked. The clash of blades resounded sharply in the air. Raiders watched as two titans struggle to overpower the other in a contest of strength and fury. Wulfrik gritted his teeth as he drove the sword closer to Doom Slayer's neck, who matched him in strength. By now, he could see the eyes behind the helmet. It told of a man whose wrath was like no other. That even the hardiest of orcs or Khorne's followers were nothing in terms of anger. His wastrueRAGE. Brutality of immeasurable volume and power truly honed and perfected.

This is what Valkia spoke of.Thiswas the outworlder that the gods feared the most.

And in Wulfrik's mind, he wasdamnhappy to finally get a fight worthy of the gods' attention.

"At last, we finally meet!" Wulfrik started. "The gods told me much about you, destroyer! Your skull will make a fine addition to Khorne's throne! And I wil-"

*CRACK*

Wulfrik's jaw cracked as Doom Slayer straight blood-punched him in the midst of his monologue. Wulfrik, this time, landed on his two feet as he flew back. He sank his sword onto the floorboards beneath and raised a hand to reassemble his dislocated jaw. A sickening pop came as he fixed it up.

"Damn. And I thought orcs were the heaviest hitters." He groaned while remaining impressed. Doom Slayer, this time, pulled out Korhil's axe and began to rip and tear his way through the crowd with both blades. Wulfrik jumped back in - all while grabbing a shield from a dead crewmate - and clashed again with Doom Slayer. The battle roared around them. Both men were now on equal footing and traded blows. Wulfrik could now see that the man was more aggressive with his approach but lacked the carelessness of a Khornate berserker; putting Wulfrik on the defense. What was most unusual was the silence. Never once, did the man scream or yell, save for the occasional grunts that pop up. It mattered little as he fought hard without end.

This excited Wulfrik. Never had he fought an opponent so relentless and unyielding as to face a warrior-no, a champion of the dark gods. And yet, here he was, facing the famed World-Walker.

Wulfrik soon screamed his praises as they fought. "Khorne is pleased with your prowess, destroyer! You truly have the hallmarks of a true champion! And I will send him unto you as an honored einherjar in Valhal! Blood for the Blood God!"

As Wulfrik focused on the Doom Slayer, Alith had snuck and retrieved Doom Slayer's shotgun. He readied his bow and nocked an arrow soon after into a gap of the norscan's breastplate. The Wanderer backed away in pain his back.

"Slayer! Catch!" Alith called out as he threw the shotgun in the air. Doom Slayer grabbed it and quickly reloaded. Alith distracted Wulfrik with enough arrows prodding through armor gaps; now on the railings of the longship. Wulfrik was enraged and was now focused on Alith. Too late, however, as Doom Slayer pressed the barrels to his chest and pulled the trigger. Buckshot blasted apart his cuirass and littering his chest with white-hot lead. The tall warrior stumbled back and fell into the waters below. Doom Slayer stared back at Alith and gave a silent nod.

Some of his men witnessed Wulfrik's fall to the water and despaired.

"The World-Walker has fallen! Wulfrik has fallen!"

As the marauders were about to face certain, the ship began moving again. No, floating on its own accord. Alith took notice and yelled his orders. "Everyone! Back on the ship now!"

The shadow warriors - along with Alith and Doom Slayer - jumped back to their own. Some landed perfectly fine, while others just crashed to the floorboard. Doom Slayer and Alith landed last and stared back at the now flying ship escaping. Doom Slayer wasn't done, however, and switched to the Paingiver. Lock-On Burst was activated and he soon blasted the ship repeatedly from below. The sentient dragonhead - much to the shock and horror of the crew - retaliated by engulfing the galleon in flames. Fire spread threw out the deck. Some of Alith's men were caught and panicked in the midst of the raging inferno only to succumb to die within seconds.

Before Doom Slayer could even finish off the flying ship, the Seafang had already escaped as it ripped a portal into the warp and vanish. Now, the surviving crew rushed to douse the flames on board.

"Get some water! Douse the fires!" Alith yelled. "Hurry!"

The men rushed to save the ship. Some grabbed buckets and gathered seawater through a pulley system. Others grabbed blankets, soaked them in whatever water they found and smothered the fires.

A shadow warrior ran to Alith and reported the situation. "Sir, we need to get to land! Har Ganeth is sighted not far from here! This ship won't survive the journey!"

"Dammit!" Cursed Alith. "Just when I thought things were going so smoothly!"

Alith looked to the helmsman. "Steer towards Har Ganeth! We make landfall!"

"At will, sir!"

The helmsman steered the wheel and approached to the south. The ship was still burning; the flames growing at every moment to snuff out everyone. Hayden, who kept quiet for most of the skirmish, had a eureka moment.

"I have an idea!"Hayden exclaimed."Alith, get your men to clear out! Slayer, get the ice bombs ready!"

Both men understood what he meant and did their parts. Alith called to his men to clear out while Doom Slayer proceeded to launch ice bombs at the fires. He was careful not to hit the asur but managed to extinguish the more damaging ones. The sails were still caught in flames but with combined effort, the crew managed to avert the worse of the situation.

However, even with the flames gone, the bad news was laid bare.

"Sire." One of Alith's men reported. "While the fire may have been downed, we still cannot go any further. The damage to the ship is too great. We found one of the hulls is cracking. Any further and we might sink halfway."

"That is grave, indeed." Alith agreed reluctantly. "Thank you. See you to the rest of our own. We will head towards Har Ganeth soon."

"As you will it, lord." The subordinate walked away, passing by Doom Slayer who approached the prince.

"I thank you for defending my men during the attack. Had we done this without you, I feared for the worse."

Doom Slayer nodded.

"Considering you helped us with the fight with that barbarian, I would say we're even."Hayden pointed bluntly.

"Such allies are a rarity against the forces of darkness. It was expected of me to do the right thing." Alith replied.

"Agreed."Hayden said in agreement."So, this 'Har Ganeth'. What can you tell us about this hold?"

"The best way I can tell you is that Har Garneth is home to the most insane cult of the God of Murder. The Followers of Khaine." Alith answered.

"They sound like pleasant folk."Hayden dryly commented. Doom Slayer gave away a smirk underneath his helm.

"They sure are. They do like their sacrifices fresh and virgin. Mad folk even by druchii standards. Unless you count the Autarii that live in the dark forest of Clar Karond."

"Don't you mean Karond Kar?"Hayden questioned; admittedly confused by more jarring names.

"No, that's a different hold we just passed. Clar Karond is actually south past the Sea of Malice. Don't ask me about the names. It gives me a headache every time they're mentioned together. Bad enough that Karond Kar keeps sending their beastmasters there. There's now a rivalry between the two over who tames monsters the best." Alith murmured.

"But I'm afraid I'm going off-track. The best way to simply put is that crimes are punishable by death. Which is several. From murder to littering the streets, even. And at least once a year, they hold a ritual holiday called "Death Night". Long-story-short, anyone found on the streets is made a sacrifice and are gathered to the altars of the hag queens, whose youth are then replenished."

Doom Slayer clenched his fists in anger as listened on. It reminded him too much of the Khan Maykr and her "justifications" to sacrifice Humanity in order to fuel Urdak for an eternity. He was glad the bitch died by his hands. The only regret was leaving VEGA while demons run rampant in Urdak.

"VEGA..."He thought."I'm sorry."

"How inhumane."Hayden coldly noted. Bitterness crept up as Doom Slayer noticed.

"If you thought that was bad, it used to run ten nights. Believe me."

"Doesn't matter. These people don't deserve to live. I am beginning to question the task Teclis has given us."

"As if I'm not in agreement!" Alith replied; anger rising in his throat. "Since the Sundering, I have laid waste to these savage beasts who dare touch my ancestral home with their twisted minds and plague my people with their cruelty! I would scorch these lands just to bring down their king than let him be on the throne!"

Doom Slayer shared his empathy with Alith and pounded his chest.

"I'd certainly be in agreement."Hayden added"However, we are bound to Teclis' promise - as well as your king's - to retrieve the Witch-King, despite our reservations. Even my patience grows thinner by the minute."

"Yes..." Alith murmured. "Just be warned. The place is crawling with Witches, Executioners and Khainite Assassins. Their leader is a particularly nasty individual. Crone Hellebron, Hag Queen of Har Ganeth and High-Priestess to the Bloody-Handed God."

"Know her well?"

"Indeed. Killed her sister, long ago." Alith bluntly stated. "She's insane but dangerous. Stay away from her as far as you can. She'll have you murdered the moment you enter her lands. Best you kill her before she does."

"I don't think he needs to be reminded. That's his hobby."Hayden pointed out. Doom Slayer pulled out his regular shotgun and co*cked it in response.

"Fair enough." Alith noted. And with parted words, the crew made way for Har Ganeth. Where blood and wrath will be spilled on the streets. And the Slayer will stand on top of a mountain of corpses.

Har Ganeth

A berserker met his end as theDeathswordfound its way to his chest. The witch elf dug her hand inside his cavity and pulled out his still-beating heart. The witch then kicked him off the walls; falling to his death as she raised the heart in the air.

"Defend the walls! Slaughter the enemy! Revel in the bloodshed! Praise to Kaela Mensha Khaine!" Praised the witch. All who stood with her screamed in delight and madness.

Crone Hellebron - Hag-Queen of Har Ganeth - parried a blow from another berserker with herCursed Bladeand skewered his head cleanly with her sword. The bloodlust was reaching its peak. So many Chaos worshippers swarming the walls like vermin and she would make sure they are thrown off her walls screaming to their deaths. Darkshards continue to harass the barbarians while stalling their invasions. Executioners backed them and prevented further reach. Hellebron continued killing the enemy with both of her blades.

"Dammit! Where are the reinforcements?!" She snarled. Another berserker came up from behind and attempted to strike from behind. He was thwarted as an executioner bisected him from the waist; both falling to the ground. Hellebron quickly snapped back only to find the favoured champion of Khaine close by.

"Tullaris! Splendid timing!"

"I sensed you were in trouble, My Lady!" Tullaris noted. "These barbarians are becoming more daring each day! They're throwing everything they have on us!"

"Dammit! Damn them all!" She cursed. "I sent messages to Malekith and I still have received no word from him! Weneedreinforcements!"

The fighting continued around them and both Khaine worshippers fought in tandem as the barbarians climbed over the walls. Skillful in their blades, the duo continued their assault and defended their territories with fervour. Together, they decimated their enemies like a tornado of blades. Each strike dealt with precision and skill. For no enemy could rival the mighty followers of Khaine.

Outside the walls, a Khornate champion watched in annoyance and anger as he saw his men slaughtered like lambs. His flesh hound sensed its master's wrath but ignored in favour of the harpy it was gnawing on.

"Witless fools! ALL OF THEM!" Arbaal yelled. Three days, this siege was going nowhere. The Hellcannons and monsters were doing nothing as the dark elves picked them off with ease.

A lieutenant walked up to him with impending news.

"Master, there is someone who would like to attend an audience with you."

Arbaal looked back at his subordinate with a raised eyebrow.

"Now? At this hour? Send them away! I have no time to meet words at this hour!"

"Master, it's the rats. They say they have been sent here by the Everchosen to aid us."

Arbaal groaned at the mention of them. Skaven. A weak and cowardly lot. He despised the vermin so much, he wouldn't dare collect their skulls in the name of Khorne. However, if the Everchosen had sent them his way, he could try to "tolerate" as much as he could.

"Fine. Retrieve them."

The lieutenant nodded and went back to gather the Skaven. Moments later, he returned with three of the rats. All of them shrouded in cloaks and daggers. The middle one especially walked up to Arbaal.

"Mighty Arbaal! Strong and fierce warrior man-thing! Everchosen has sent us and delivered us here to aid-help you!" The rat chittered. Arbaal was getting annoyed by the seconds. He made his demands clear.

"Make it quick! I have a siege to deal with and I have little patience with whatever you offer! Speak! Before I feed my flesh hound to your corpses!"

The two rats behind their leader hissed but the middle one had surprising patience.

"Forgive me, champion. We have sent skaven into strongholds. Placing bombs into walls. Walls go boom-boom. Elf-things don't know what hit-hurt them. Need more time to prepare."

A growl erupted in Arbaal's throat. However, he felt some sense of relief. The bombs will help hasten this siege soon. He hated to admit it, but the rats had their moments.

"...Fine. Get to work. I will be at the walls."

He kicked his spurs and his mount moved forward, leaving the three rats to themselves. Deep in the dark forest, a multitude of red eyes watched as their leader finished words with the champion of Khorne, before disappearing.

Skaven supremacy will come. And the Horned Rat watched with leering interest from the shadows of his realm.

Chapter 9: The Night of Bloody Hands

Chapter Text

Har Ganeth's Bay

"Steady...steady...!" Alith repeated as the ship arrived at the bay of Naggaroth's notorious theocratic hold. The galleon's structure - while by no means fragile - had already ceased to function properly as they neared the ports. The crew braced themselves as they made the landing.

*CRASH*

Within reach, they arrived with the grace of a falling whale cushioned by a bedrock. But as far as Doom Slayer was concerned, this hard landing was practically a bumper.

"...We're here." Alith deadpanned. "Everyone out."

The whole crew prepared immediately and equipped themselves with proper gear. Doom Slayer and Alith were the first to set foot on land. Alith changed back to his old uniform - seeing no reason as to keep up the pirate disguise - while the Slayer surveyed the surroundings. The entire bay was unsettling empty. Plenty of ships were still near the docks, though. All of them abandoned by now.

Not a single sound nearby save for the ones of battle far off somewhere in the north. Smoke and fire could be seen from a distance as a well; much further from the sea.

"We'll take one of the boats here." Alith stated. "Ship is of no use to us at this point. I want volunteers to find a viable ship to continue our journey."

A couple of his men raised their hands. Alith then gestured them to search for one.

"We can't stay here any longer." Alith voiced his concerns. "City is crawling with executioners, witch elves, and Khainite assassins. Of all the places we could've landed, it's this one. Keep your eyes out"

"We appreciate the warning, Alith."Hayden thanked."Though, I think you may have exaggerated a bit too much on the ship's damage. Its integrity is still intact, so it's possible we can repair it with the right tools."

As Hayden pointed out the chances of repairs, a raven came down and landed on the ship's railings. Three times it pecked at the wood did the ship finally sink to the seabed. Luckily, no one was on the ship as it sank.

"...Nevermind."Hayden changed his tune. Doom Slayer gave a facepalm while Alith rolled his eyes.

"As I was saying, best we wait until my men return. We are not going anywhere further. Unless we have no other choice, we are staying here. Agreed?" Alith questioned. Doom Slayer shrugged. Didn't care, really.

"Hopefully, it won't take much longer."

*VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!*

The sound of the norscan hordes alerted the group. Nearby, a few longships were soon to arrive at the bay. Alith could only feel exasperated at their persistence.

"Oh, come on! Again?!" Alith outraged. "Forget the ships! We're moving by land! Follow me!"

Alith stepped past the Slayer, followed by the Shadow Warriors. Doom Slayer stayed behind, however, and pulled up the Paingiver again. This time, with the Detonate mod in hand. He shot what little missiles there were in the rocket launcher and timed his detonations correctly.

*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*

Each shot had found its target. Still more had come but it was enough to slow down the invaders from getting anywhere close to the asur.

"Dammit! Come on, Slayer!" Alith called out. "We need to get moving! Quickly!"

Doom Slayer placed back the rocket launcher and quickly switched to the combat shotgun, and then returning to his group. The streets of Har Ganeth were now filled with the footsteps of the group; breaking the silence it once had.

Mother Russia Bleeds - Fixions

Har Ganeth's Walls

The Blood Queen fought with relentless fury as she unleashed hell on the marauders. She sliced off the legs of an axe-wielding norscan with her sword while stabbing through the throat of another with her parrying blade. Tullaris was close behind and finished off the legless norscan in one chop to the neck. Executioners continued fending off the norscans reaching over the walls with their executioner's blades while the darkshards shot bolt after bolt into the hordes down below. The barbarians continued their assault, however, and climbed on the walls; howling Khorne's name and demanding blood and skulls as tributes to him. The witch elves, meanwhile, howled Khaine's name and so too demand sacrifice. Besides blood, they instead demanded their still-beating hearts. The ever-increasing shouts and blood-curdling screams only made the murders and slaughter all the more potent and empowering to their respected gods of war. It was only a matter of where the scale would tip...for only one can truly become the victor.

Hellebron screamed in the name of her god. "Keep fighting! For the Lord of Murder! For the Bloody-Handed God! For Khaela Mensha Khaine! FOR KHAINE!"

"FOR KHAINE!"Her servants chanted, now renewed by their reverence to their god. The barbarians matched the druchii in their devotion as they screamed for blood and skulls to Khorne and his throne.

"BLOOD FOR THE GOD!" A berserker yelled out in his blind fury, charging at Hellebron with his duel-axes. Of course, such blindness left him vulnerable as two daggers pierced him through the shoulders from behind. The norscan flailed about as a Khainite assassin rode repeatedly stabbed him to death. The barbarian managed to get him off only to be kicked down to his death off the wall's ledge. The assassin wiped away the blood off his blades and formally greeted the high priestess.

"Crone Hellebron." He greeted. "I am pleased to see that you are alive."

"Shadowblade." She replied, wrenching her sword from a dead norscan. "What news do you bring from the Witch-King?"

"Unfortunate news, my lady." Shadowblade lamented, pulling out a scroll from his cloak. Tullaris protected his mistress as she read the contents.

"WHAT?!" Hellebron screamed in fury. "He cannot give me any reinforcements?!"

"The Witch-King is currently under siege. As is Hag Graef."

"Rrr! Curse these heathens and their gods! They shall meet Khaine soon enough!" Hellebron cursed as she crushed the scroll in her hand. She soon slit the throat of another berserker before pushing him off the walls.

But as she received temporary relief from the act, bright flashes of green and echoing booms began blowing on different sections of the wall. The segments of the wall's infrastructure began to collapse, with those left standing falling to their deaths. If not the fall that kills, then the warp energies are what finished off the survivors. One druchii was in the midst of developing bulbous flesh, claws, eyes and teeth in areas not meant to be, before being cut down in two by Tullaris.

"Warpstone!" Shadowblade exclaimed. "The rats were in league with the enemy! We have been compromised!"

"Impossible!" Hellebron recoiled in shock. "This city cannot fall! I will sendeverydamn insect to Khaine's realm if it means victory!"

She then whistled into the air, where the wind roared back. Descending upon the three, a manticore bowed in front of the Blood Queen. Hellebron took the reins, with Tullaris taking a backseat. Shadowblade was the last and grasped the creature by its arm tightly as it took flight. All three descended to the ground; where the bloodshed was at its most concentrated.

Outside the walls, Arbaal looked on in delight and gratification as sections of the walls came down excellent.

"Heh, the rats made good on their part. Now comes the slaughter." He commented. Arbaal then looked back to his lieutenant; a khornate chosen of Kurgan stock. His armor, black as midnight from head to toe, and tipped with jagged spikes on his pauldrons and sword hand. His horned helm - which resembled more of a skull - turned and greeted the Undefeated expectantly.

"Mad Yaarl Kell." Announced Arbaal. "Take your men to the west. I will take the north while the others take the east. You may take whatever is yours for the keeping."

"The men can keep the riches." Madjar turned down. "I aim for a good slaughter."

"As do I, brother." Arbaal agreed. Just then, red portals began appearing around his armies. From the skies, furies swarmed in clusters. And from the ground, came bloodletters, flesh hounds, and bloodcrushers - some even mounted by the former. Blood thrones strode and roared their engines of hate as they rode alongside the army. And the last (but not least) came the mighty juggernauts: the bloodthirsters. Titanic creatures who brandished battleaxes and whips walked forth with earthshaking steps.

The daemons howled like hungry beasts; their screams like that of a roaring fire and the hammering of steel. They raised their mighty weapons in the air in preparation for the battle to come. Arbaal gave thanks to the Brass Lord and psyched himself to live in the moment.

The Chaos lord kicked his reins and raised his axe. His mighty steed stood up and growled in anticipation while the norscans under his arms stood. "Men of the North! Raise your axes and swords! Tonight, we have been blessed with the mighty servants of Khorne! He is pleased with our servitude and we shall bring a night of slaughter! And Khorne shall watch and smile down upon us as spill the blood from whence they shall flow to his kingdom! BLOOD!"

"FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

"SKULLS!"

"FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

"CHAAAAAAAAAARGE!" Arbaal aimed towards the now broken bastion. His hound roared and was the first to charge. Both daemon and mortal charged into the now-broken citadel, for the carnage was made ready for them.

Somewhere else, moments ago...

"Stay close..."Alith whispered."Keep your eyes on the shadows. We are never alone."

The group had taken to sneaking through the city's alleys and narrow passages to avoid exposure. Doom Slayer eyed around, holding onto the shotgun tightly. Alith had sent two scouts ahead to alert them of any lurking patrols. So far, they had been able to move without trouble. The shadow warriors proved their name, Doom Slayer admitted. It was only a matter when he took his turn with proving his.

*BOOM*

Damnation - Mick Gordon

Suddenly, flashes of green and the sound of explosions caught the group by surprise as they made their way through the streets. Looking towards the origin, Doom Slayer and Alith could see sickly green smoke rise to the sky visibly from the walls. Chaos had breached the city. And the situation now had become direr than before.

"Dammit!" Alith cursed under his breath before turning back. "Move! We need to get out now! Get ready for combat!"

The group quickly became alert and hasten their heels. They ran through the streets without pause. Footsteps not of their own and bloodcurdling cries of murder were becoming louder and louder as they ran.

Eventually, they came across a slaughter unfolding as red-armored barbarians and Har Ganeth executioners exchanged steel and spill blood on the cobblestones. Neither side noticed Doom Slayer's group, too focused were they spent on killing each other.

"This way!" Alith called out as he saw another alley close by. The group followed, not noticed by either side and not any bit concerned with the fight right now. Everywhere they went, battles became a common sight. This city was rapidly collapsing and turning into a slaughterhouse. And Doom Slayer felt like he was missing out on a grand experience. He would rather be killing two birds with one stone at this point, were it not for the fact that he had to rescue some royal asshole and escort him back to Ulthuan.

As Doom Slayer grumbled about through his head, he noticed someone falling over in the corner of his visor. A squad of guards pushed a group of slaves to somewhere else while incessant screaming followed behind them. One of those slaves tripped and fell. A little girl with dirty blonde hair fell face-first to the pavement. Another slave - a boy - stopped and came back to her.

Doom Slayer stopped in his tracks. Alith glanced back and stopped as well. Alith looked to where he was staring and was about to pull him when he suddenly saw the sight of a bloodletter walking out of the corner. The daemon lashed out as some dreadspears attacked it. None of the guards survived as it slew with its infernal blade. The girl was paralyzed with fear as the bloodletter gazed down on her.

The daemon's height towered over the girl like a terrible shadow; its snarling face breathing down on her skin like a hot furnace. Its flaming sword drew near with burning rage.

"STAY AWAY FROM HER!" The boy yelled, catching the daemon's attention. He grabbed a small rock from the road and stood between it and her. The boy felt fear as the daemon's eye bore through his soul. Yet, in the face of Evil, the boy drew the courage to stand up and face the terrible power of Chaos.

It drew the daemon's attention, and with both hands, it raised its sword over its head. The boy closed his eyes but still stood in defiance. Before the bloodletter could even pull the finishing blow, however, it smelled something else. A scent of something ancient. Primordial. A primal rage once thought long forgotten in the ravaging of the Umbral Plains. A movement in the corner of its eye caught its attention. And for a split-second, the bloodletter saw the most dreaded hunter of its kind charging forward with his fist flying towards it. In its last moments of existence, the daemon felt something that only mortals could ever carry.

Fear.

Doom Slayer launched a blood punch into the daemon's face so hard that the bloodletter was sent flying into a wall and exploding in a bloody paste. The daemon's neck had been snapped upon and face mangled to something barely recognizable. The body dropped to the floor uselessly after. Interestingly, the daemon expelled energy. Argent energy. And it rejuvenated the Slayer's health again, much to Hayden's surprise.

However, before Hayden could get a word, a roar was heard close by. The noise his fist produced and the fear the daemon mentally channelled must have drawn the attention of every daemon and warrior within Doom Slayer's sight.

The Only Thing They Fear Is You - Mick Gordon (Remastered V2 Remix) (0:30)

The boy opened his eyes and stared in awe as standing before him was not a daemon, but a man. He stood between the daemons and the children. Doom Slayer glanced back at the boy and nodded, before facing the invaders. Alith rushed in and grabbed the children to safety as Doom Slayer stood alone.

"SLAYERRRR!"A daemon yelled in terror. The daemons gazed in horror as the nightmare from eons past had returned, while the warriors looked upon the new challenger with curiosity and excitement. Doom Slayer pulled out the Super Shotgun and began replacing the empty shells with new ones.

Bloodletters and Chaos Warriors descended upon the Slayer in a berserk state. His simple response was to snap the shotgun back into place.

*SNAP*

(0:48)

Doom Slayer charged head-on, blasting away the first wave with the SSG, and then blood punching the second wave. The berserkers stood no chance when he drew first blood. A bloodletter came towards him with his sword, only to be deflected with the Doomblade. Doom Slayer pressed the barrel of his shotgun against its face and blasted it into smithereens. The daemon dropped to the ground, now ceasing from existence. More came coming with fury. The Chaos worshippers brandished their weapons with unholy intent and swarmed him. Doom Slayer pulled out the Chaingun with the Turret Mod equipped. The barrels split apart into four and the Slayer pulled the trigger. Bullets went flying and flesh rendered as the horde realized too late that they had carelessly spent their lives like lambs to the slaughter. Doom Slayer continued spraying bullets until either the mindless brutes died foolishly or that the survivors turn and ran. Even some bloodletters quickly realized that this battle was stacked against them and fled with their tails behind.

Doom Slayer ceased firing, and the barrels of the chaingun reverted to their original form. Smoke rose from the barrels as he carried the weapon over his shoulder. The scene was now littered with blood and gore. Daemons that were caught in the shootout turned to ash and cinder. The chaingun had low ammunition in its drums, but Doom Slayer still had other guns to spare. He quickly switched the chaingun for his regular shotgun.

"Slayer!" Doom Slayer looked behind to find Alith catching up to him. A look of surprise.

"Are you alright?" Alith asked with concern before looking around at the massacre he had just witnessed. The shock was read all over his face as he turned to Doom Slayer, yet said none of it.

"There is no room for concern, Alith. But we are fine if that's what you are asking."Hayden answered. Alith was struggling to keep his emotions in check. Which was a first in a long time. He quickly came to his senses and reverted to his original stoicism.

"R-Right." Alith calmed his nerves. "Not my station to be worried."

"And the children?"

"They'll be fine. My men are taking care of them and sending them somewhere safe from this mess."

"Good."Hayden applauded."What's the situation now?"

"Worse, I'd say. Everywhere, the entire city is turning into a slaughterhouse, and our means of stealth has been compromised by your actions."

Doom Slayer furrowed his brow."You know it's within his right to protect the innocent. He made it clear, didn't he?"

"I know, I know." Alith acknowledged. "But by now, the noises might have attracted the entire city. We'll be swarmed at any moment now."

"Then we'll split up. You find our means of escape and we divert the enemy's attention."

Doom Slayer pulled out another earbud and handed it to him."Take it. There's a tracker installed onto this earpiece. Wear it around your ear and I'll contact you. We'll find you."

"Thank you." Alith thanked. Footsteps could be heard from a distance.

"It came from here!"

"Go. Now!"Hayden alerted. Both men split apart. Alith went back to the shadows and guided his men through means of escape, while Doom Slayer entered the fray and revelled in the carnage that followed. Doom Slayer went to his next objective - or not since he had no clue by this point - and searched for the nearest and most concentrated battle. Every single street was crawling with the daemons and their mortal followers. Were it not for the fact that the inhabitants were full of sad*stic elves who threw the Geneva Conventions out the window like trash, he would have left them for dead and give them a taste of their own medicine. However, a part of him couldn't ignore the fact that there were also innocents as well. Slaves. Which now gave him two reasons to stand and fight. The other, of course, were the demons. Or daemons or whatever the hell their names are spelled.

"This is interesting."Hayden remarked."This energy is of the same material as Argent energy. I never suspected these daemons to still carry them. But there's something else I'm detecting. Something foreign...but I need to gather more material and understand it. But why worry about it when I have you collecting?"

While Hayden analyzed the material, Doom Slayer recollected his thoughts.

It didn't matter how different they were from Hell. He remembered them quite well. From a time before his imprisonment. On Argent D'Nur. When the homeworld still thrived.

They were just Hell under a different brand name.

Doom Slayer could hear daemons nearby. He turned right, to find more of them and their followers. The daemons were the first to take notice and screamed. The Chaos warriors - too blinded in their berserk state - charged at him for their next kill. Doom Slayer had theSticky Bombmod equipped and launched several bombs into the incoming charge. The bombs landed on their victims and exploded. Guts and body parts sprayed everywhere as the norscans ran foolishly to their deaths. With the sticky bombs done and now charging, Doom Slayer dealt with the remaining ones and blasted them with white-hot lead. With the berserkers now dead, it was only the Bloodletters now to deal with. The Bloodletters charged in a futile effort to stop him, only to be blown to bits by the shotgun. One ended up being grabbed as a meatshield while Doom Slayer pulled out the Heavy Cannon. Their hellish weapons were stopped short of cutting the Slayer down by way of the bloodletter's body - which took the brunt of the assault - while the FMJ rounds did their job as they tore through the murderous daemons to gibs. The meat shield screamed in pain all the while its brethren stabbed and cut it to pieces as they tried to get through Doom Slayer.

Eventually, the HC emptied its last round. By now, only a few daemons remained, and the meatshield was now little more than half of a torso without limbs. Doom Slayer proceeded to throw the torso towards them, giving them enough of a distraction as he lobbed an ice bomb at them, then switched to the flamer, before finally throwing a grenade at them. His armor restored instantly upon their deaths, filling two-thirds of what he had previously.

Now came the ammo. Considering these daemons were just demons with an "a" in the name, which meant they had Argent energy in them, that meant he could now replenish himself with walking Argent pinatas around. He soon noticed a bloodletter still standing, shaking even as it raised its sword at him.

Just then, an evil thought came to Doom Slayer.

Putting the HC aside, Doom Slayer finally pulled theGreat Communicator out from his arsenal. He then revved the monstrous tool up; the teeth now running at terrible speeds. The Bloodletter, seeing the chainsaw with a widened gaze, dropped its sword and ran in the opposite direction; fleeing for its life. Sadly for it, the Doom Slayer was a lot faster. Reaching within closing distance, he kicked it to the ground and stomp onto its back. The daemon fell flat on its face and shortly could only claw the ground and scream frantically as it faced a grisly end. Within seconds, the Slayer sawed through its head and back, killing the daemon instantly but violently. Ammunition was now replenished for the HC and Chaingun and the shotguns and the Paingiver as well.

"Damn, it's good to be back in business."Doom Slayer thought.

"HALT RIGHT THERE!" A voice yelled out. Doom Slayer looked up to find a dark elf master and his regiment following close behind and approaching warily.

"Who are you and where did you come from?! Trespassers on this soil are sentenced to death as decreed by the Hag Queen herself! Answer quickly and I will spare you an agonizing death!" He demanded. Doom Slayer simply ignored him and walked away from him. The dark elf commander was incensed and walked up to him.

"DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME!" He yelled; a hand reaching to grab Doom Slayer's shoulder. That never happened as the latter instinctively grabbed it. Slowly, he crushed the idiot elf's hand until the bones began to pop under pressure. The dark elf screamed in pain right before having his head grabbed and smashed into a nearby wall. The elf died instantly as his head turned into a bloody paste. The rest of the elves instinctively raised their weapons at him, only to back down as the Slayer's aura paralyzed them with fear. Ultimately, Doom Slayer ignored them and went off to kill more daemons.

The dark elves were to themselves now, wondering what happens next before arguing who gets to be the new commander.

"I would have been of use to communicate...but then I suppose he wouldn't matter much."Hayden spoke in total agreement with the Slayer's methods for once.

Doom Slayer moved elsewhere and landed straight into a skirmish between two sides. The battle took in a city square of sorts, where a shrine of a demonic-looking god stood with arms spread stood in front of the, like some sort of evil version of Christ the Redeemer in Brazil back on Earth. Already, Chaos berserkers and bloodletters faced off executioners and witch elves on different sides. Doom Slayer, seeing no reason as to bother himself with the dark elves - despite the threat they pose -, focused on the Chaos worshippers. He soon pulled out theBallistawith theDestroyer Blademod applied. He charged up the weapon until it finally reached 100%. The daemons were the first to notice and looked on in terror as the weapon supercharged. Too late could they avoid the energy blade as it bisected through their ranks like a reaper's scythe. Their mortal followers had no idea what hit them until the heat reached their armor. The dark elves stop mid-charge as they behold in confusion of the bodies now laying before them, before staring at the Slayer.

"YOU!" A death hag pointed directly at him. "Who are you and what sorcery did you cast?! This city does not allow trespassers!"

Hayden suddenly spoke up in the intercoms."You're probably better off ignoring them. Let's just move elsewhere. By now, they're not our targets. Then again, nothing is stopping you from doing what you do best."

Doom Slayer shrugged. The Death Hag continued screeching at him.

"Well?! We demand an answer! Just who are-?!"

*CRASH*

The dark elves soon went flying as Doom Slayer pulled up the Chaingun with theEnergy Shieldattached. He charged through them as the shield collided with the elves; bouncing and pushed aside harmlessly as he wadded his way through the crowd. As if they were pins against a bowling ball. It didn't really serve much for him other than just dick them around. Besides, they weren't his target at the moment.

He soon ran to the next area, continuing his rampage while leaving behind dark elves unharmed.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS INSULT!" The Death Hag screeched, shaking her fist in the air in anger. But the Doom Slayer had already vanished into the darkness, leaving behind bruises confusion.

The daemonhost nearby had already alerted his presence. Fine by him, he thought. Let them come.

As the Doom Slayer disappeared and left the servants of Khaine frustrated, the entity watched as it peered through the statue's eyes. He watched with indulgence as the Hellwalker rampaged his way through the city. His brides and worshippers, faithful and zealous as they were, could not measure their worth in comparison to thetrueDestroyer himself. Even his favoured chosen, Tullaris, had no chance to likes of the Slayer.

The End Times had truly come. And the Widowmaker now demanded a new host to take it up, once more.

Somewhere else...

Kell took one swing of his sword and chopped down three witch elves with all of his strength. All three fell to the ground with their guts spilled on the already bloody roads. The warlord turned just in time to block an executioner's swing with his sword before impaling through the abdomen. The Mad Yaarl kicked the dark elf to the ground; crushing him into a pulp with his shield as the elf clutched his waist in pain.

"FORWARD!" Kell ordered in his blood-fuelled adrenaline. Berserkers and bloodletters relished in their bloody carnage in honor of the Blood God. Bloodcrushers trampled the druchii spearmen underneath their hooves as they broke through the line, while the furies grabbed the survivors and carried them to the sky before dropping them back to the earth. Harpies clashed with the daemonic flyers with the same relentless ferocity, but the furies had the superior numbers to dominate the skies. The Mad Yaarl smiled in glee underneath his skull-shaped helm.

He rallied his men further in their blood. "Khorne smiles upon us! And we will continue delivering the greatest of tributes to fill his throne! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

His men cheered as they continued slaying the dark elves. Har Ganeth was close to crumbling. All they needed to do was to keep pushing forward until their god was pleased.

"YAARL!" A lieutenant called out. Kell crushed a bleaksword's head under his boot before looking up.

"The daemons report resistance from the south! They say it's heading in our direction!"

"Then let the elves come! For we shall bathe in their blood as our blades touch their flesh!" Kell boasted. His lieutenant, however, seemed uneasy.

"About that, yaarl..." He broached lightly. "T-they say it's not the dark elves."

"So it is their beasts then!" Kell concluded. "Then tonight, we shall feast on their flesh in celebration of our forthcoming victory!"

"It's not that either, yaarl." His subordinate replied, shaking his head.

"So slaves then? Perhaps they either are so desperate or weak as to send such lesser men to bolster our ranks!"

"Nope. Not at all."

"Then what in Chaos is resisting us?!" Kell demanded, completely in the dark on the attackers. The marauder was sweating beneath his helm.

"T-They say they're being attacked by one..." he drew out.

"One what? One army? One vessel?! Don't keep me in the dark, dammit! Just tell me what the f*ck it is!"

The man was shivering beneath his armor, but tried to keep his cool.

"They say it's one...man..."

The Mad Yaarl stared dumbfoundedly at his lieutenant.

"...one ma-WHAT?!" Screamed Kell at the top of his lungs. "ONLY ONE MAN IS RESISTING US AND NONE OF OUR OWN CAN STOP HIM?!"

"B-But my lord! They say he carries strange weapons and magic on him! None can get past him without facing his powers!"

This gave Kell pause. Perhaps this was most likely the reason for his forces being stopped at a pivotal moment. This elf must be carrying a magical artifact on him if the reports were to go by. The fact that his legion was being slaughtered by a sorcerer put him in a foul mood. Combat cheated out by magic was not in the way of Khorne. And such a crime shall be paid with sorcerer's blood. Kell wrenched his sword from a corpse and looked back at his army.

"SERVANTS OF KHORNE! WITH ME!" He ordered.

"BLOOD FOR TH-"

*BLAM*

A berserker's head was blown to bits by a precision bolt. Followed by two other compatriots of his. Doom Slayer switched it up with micro-missiles. The missiles managed to hit five targets; detonating and exploding like bloody confetti on contact. What remained were unidentifiable to the human eye. More charged in; hellbent on closing the distance. Doom Slayer then grabbed his combat shotgun and went full-auto into the crowd. They never stood a chance as he put it on full-blast. Their numbers dwindled rapidly with every second turning. Blood covered the streets and painted the walls while limbs were severed and heads pulverized as buckshot after buckshot was delivered.

It was music to him. The killing. The hatred. The carnage. The slaughter. He lived the moment in pure bliss.

A bloodletter charged at him. He shot point-blank as its face as it closed in, only to appear to the right side of him. Doom Slayer activated his thrusters to his left just as it swung its blade only to scratch the surface of his shoulder. Doom Slayer then retaliated by bursting his thrusters back, this time, landing a superman blood punch. The daemon's face was crushed upon impact; thrown off a short distance before crashing into a pile of rubble. Doom Slayer cracked his knuckles in satisfaction.

*THUD*

A bloodletter struck him from behind, only for the sword to bounce off. Doom Slayer turned around just in time to see the daemon look straight into his eyes with absolute shock and terror. He threw a haymaker at it, dropping its sword in the process. He then grabbed it by the blade and proceeded to pull a mordhau over the daemon's head; the crossguard penetrating through its skull and killing it. Warcries were heard, and more of the maniacs came rushing at him.

Doom Slayer switched to the plasma gun withHeat Blast. The next horde began melting as the plasma ate away their flesh, while Doom Slayer simply charged as held the trigger down. Eventually, after overheating with a continuous stream, he then fired off a level three charge into an even bigger wave. The energy expelled sent the entire viking hordes into bloody bits. The plasma turned completely red and the gun was on rapid-fire; speeding up as the horde got bigger.

Mindless, the barbarians were when it came to tactics. Their only form of strategy was through attrition. The bodies piled high as he carved a bloody path through them. Flesh burnt and brought scent drove nearby daemons to follow it. It only lured them to their deaths as they rounded the corner to meet the Doom Slayer. Slowly, the horde came to a realization and began retreating. Not that it stopped Doom Slayer to release the trigger.

But as he continued to slaughter them, it went from exciting to...boring.

He thought,"This is getting tiresome. It shouldn't be! This should be thrilling! I get to kill some assholes and this is the best tactic they could throw at me?! UGH! Where are the Super-Heavies when you need them?!"

However, that thought soon turned to wishful thinking as the ground began to shake.

*THUMP*

*THUMP*

*THUMP*

*THUMP*

Heavy footsteps trembled the earth, gradually louder than the last. The retreating horde made way for a hulking beast. Its sheer size towered even a tyrant with its imposing bulk, and its wingspan could block out the sun if it were daytime now. In its hands, it carried a mighty axe and whip in tandem. Great horns covered its head like a mighty crown. Combined with its red skin and cloved hooves, the mighty daemon painted the image of a twisted love-child of the Devil and a Balrog. The Slayer stood his ground as his new opponent approached. A bloodthirster had appeared and Doom Slayer was finally happy to see something good to kill for a change.

"Scourge of Hell!"It roared with a thunderous voice."I have come to claim you for my lord! Your rampage shall cease and I will drag you to the Brass Lord! So that He may welcome you in his halls of Valhal! This world is not of your concern! It will fall like the others! Like Argent D'Nur! You cannot stop the inevitable! The apocalypse shall be written!"

The Slayer's only response was to bring out the Chaingun; grinning all the while beneath his helm. The multi-barrel divided itself into four and Doom Slayer simply aimed the weapon at the greater daemon. Bloodthirster snorted in fury and spread its mighty wings.

"So be it! If you will not be His servant, then you shall be collected as a skull upon His throne! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

The Bloodthirst raised its axe and roared. The chaingun soon rotated and sprayed tungsten on the behemoth. The bloodthirster made one great leap to the sky; its axe soon to collide to where the Slayer stood.

Doom Slayer's thrusters kicked into action as he managed to avoid a devastating blow. The chaingun continued to assault and tear through the flesh off the daemon, visibly angering it in return. The daemon extended its whip and lashed out at him. Doom Slayer halted to avoid the hit of the barbed wire. He managed to evade five hits before he was caught by the sixth. He was sent flying in a building of six people huddling together as they hide through the battle outside. His appearance and landing shocked the family as he found himself cushioned by debris. Doom Slayer stood up from the rubble, no less for wear and incredibly pissed, and switched to the Paingiver. With Lock-on Burst equipped. Doom Slayer jumped out and continued his assault. He bombarded the daemon with several rockets to the face. It shielded itself with its axe and lashed out again with its whip. Quickly, Doom Slayer pulled out the HC and launched several micro-missiles to one of its wings. The missiles found their target and began burning the leathery membrane off the wings. The daemon noticed but was too late to do anything by the time it opened its eyes. Crippled and now landbound, the bloodthirster simply roared and swung the axe in fury. Doom Slayer dodged and circled it with Full-Auto from his shotgun. By now, more and more of its flesh became exposed with every hit; leaving behind a gory and visceral appearance. Organs were almost ready to fall apart by the barrage of firepower. The bloodthirster was at its lowest. Even with all the rage it possessed, it could not dull the creeping pain that followed.

Eventually, the daemon fell to one knee. Seeing its weakened state, Doom Slayer charged and sent a haymaker to its face again. The daemon dropped to the ground; its weapons as well. Doom Slayer grabbed ahold of its axe and proceeded to heave it over the daemon's head. The bloodthirster raised its hand - as if to plead for mercy - but it was too late. Its head split into two as the Slayer violently drove the weapon down its former master. The daemon now laid dead; no longer troublesome to his opponent.

But as the Slayer took a brief moment of rest, footsteps and roars came rushing into the area. A trio of bloodthirsters and their bloodletter posse surrounded him with a multitude of weapons. All too eager to cut the Hellwalker down. Doom Slayer cracked his neck and fingers and pulled out the chainsaw. The blade revved up and roared. The daemons took it as a challenge and swarmed him. Doom Slayer, likewise, charged to the nearest daemon he faced.

Rip and Tear...until it is done.

Somewhere, Nearby...

"How much further?!" The warlord questioned. Kell and his men had been running for about half an hour; searching for the mage who had been wiping Khorne's blessed followers. His subordinate had been leading them to where the battle was.

"Just down this street! I could hear the daemons close by!" The marauder answered. The daemons were indeed nearby like he said. But as they reached further, the sound was more clear. He could hear the familiar inhuman roars that would make weak men of the south beg for mercy and flee from battlefields. But there was something wrong. Instead of roars of triumph and victory, there was a sense of terror and defeat that was mixed into their screams. Within reach, they turned a corner only to find several daemon corpses laying about in bloody display. Half of the bodies had been dismembered in some grisly manner; others had holes the size of fists punched through them. What disturbed them the most, however, were the bodies of three bloodthirsters dead in brutal fashion. The closest especially had its axe drove into its skull with enough strength to split into two.

Not long after, a bloodthirster burst from the corner. Kell and his men stopped in their tracks as they watched the greater daemon stabbed to death by a warrior that jumped up to its face; all while desperately shaking him off. The final stab went straight through its right eye; the blade going deeper through its skull. The greater daemon's body became motionless after; now pronounced dead.

Doom Slayer pulled the blade out and stop to notice the warlord's retinue. Kell's men tensed in shock at his entrance, but the Mad Jarl wasn't going to let the enemy strike first.

"MEN! TO ARMS! FOR CHAOS!"

"FOR CHAOS!"They roared. The warriors charged despite what they had witnessed. Doom Slayer pulled up the chaingun and blasted the Mad Yaarl's men to ludicrous amounts of gore. The warlord barely managed to raise his shield in time as the chaingun's slugs brought bloody murder upon his men. All around him, Kell could see his men dying in droves in a matter of seconds. The Mad Yaarl's rage was turned up and began charging at his opponent. His shield was losing mass the longer he hid protected himself.

"DIE, FOOL!" Roared Kell as he bashed his shield on the chaingun; casting it aside the moment Doom Slayer lost his grip. Kell's sword swung towards the man, grazing against his armor. Doom Slayer extended his Doomblade in anticipation of the next hit; deflecting it before punching him with his free hand. Kell's enchanted helmet managed to protect him from an otherwise fatal blow, but still managed to put him out of commission, briefly. As Kell sank to one knee, the remaining warriors jumped in and clashed with Doom Slayer as they protected him. The first swung his two-handed axe at Doom Slayer's head, only to simply slide the surface of his helm. Doom Slayer brought his own axe out and caught the berserker's in the next swing. Doom Slayer stabbed the Doomblade into his gut before ripping to the side. The norscan yelped in pain and dropped his axe to clutch his organs now falling out. Another norscan slammed two axes on the Slayer's back. Doom Slayer then switched to the SSG and shot point-blank into the raider's face; reducing it into chunky pieces of flesh. He then unloaded another buckshot into an incoming mob and turned them into mincemeat, before getting tackled and pushed into a nearby building by a berserker; crashing indoors. The remaining norscans took initiative and followed.

Kell managed to get his bearings back and stood up again to find himself alone. Fighting could be heard inside and Kell was ready for another round. The warlord grabbed his sword from the ground and pulled out an axe from his belt. Moments later, another one of his underlings crashed through a window. Wheezing noises were heard from the lying body before the last breath was released. The fighting died down and out came a norscan. The body slumped to the ground to reveal the Slayer's axe lodged into his back. Doom Slayer walked out from the doorway, completely unscathed and no worse for wear from the indoor fight; wrenching the axe out after.

Kell's blood boiled underneath his armour as he seethed with rage. He made his declaration of challenge by slamming his weapons together to grab his enemy's attention and gave a mighty warcry. Doom Slayer responded with his Doomblade extended and his axe in hand. He stared silently at the Mad Yaarl, but his rage emanated in the form of an overwhelming aura. To any unlucky foe, they would've dropped their weapons and ran. The same could be said for Kell, but his rage outweighed any ounce of cowardice out of him.

"KHOOOOORNE!" He bellowed with all of his fury; charging without any thought of safety and worry. Doom Slayer braced himself and took his stand as the chosen of Khorne swung his weapons. Kell's hits and blows could bisect three fully-armoured imperial knights with just one swing alone. However, Doom Slayer was no ordinary human. Not only was he strong, but he was also fast and fully armed to the teeth. Doom Slayer weaved through the norscan champion's attack with ease and grace while dishing out some brutal hits of his own. Kell's armor was forged to withstand even the mightiest blows of a manticore but was nowhere mobile to the likes of the Slayer's armor.

"DIE, whor*SON!" Yelled the impatient warlord. Doom Slayer simply continued to attack the weak points of Kell's armor. The Slayer's axe then lodged itself into the Chaos champion's shoulder; pulling him down to deliver a knee to the head. The blow was enough to stagger Kell; stumbling and struggling to stay conscious. This gave way for Doom Slayer the opportunity to deliver a glory kill.

Doom Slayer punched with all his might into the breastplate; throwing him onto his back. Instead of being quick and aiming for the head, however, the Slayer repeatedly punched through the breastplate, again and again. Each strike powerful enough to cave the metal through, before finally reaching through the chest. He didn't stop and continued until the Mad Yaarl began coughing up blood as Doom Slayer continued his strikes and crushed his organs. The second-to-last blow was enough to burst blood vessels through Kell's eyes and vomit more blood.

"...W-What is this man?!"Kell asked in his final last thing the Mad Yaarl saw was Doom Slayer aiming his fist through the chosen's head for one final time. In the end, not even the horned helm could save Kell from having his head pulverized.

Doom Slayer pulled his fist from the ground now caked with brain matter all over. He stood and returned to his weapons. The axe remained embedded onto the stoned ground; pulling it out. Looking to his other missing weapon; the chaingun was left intact, surprisingly. He figured the Chaos worshippers would take advantage but they probably had no clue on what to do. Superstitious folk, he thought.

He then grabbed it and inspected any damages on it. So far, so good. He placed it back into his inventory and switched to the SSG.

"It appears I have enough data collected from this whole show you created. But alas, that's not our primary concern. We should get moving. There's still more of them heading in our direction. Drop whatever it is you're doing and move. We still have an escort mission going."Hayden reminded, much to Doom Slayer's chagrin. He stood back up and ran to whatever his guts were telling him. And wherever the battles raged.

Hellebron stabbed her sword into the exposed neck of an armoured khornate. The Chaos warrior clutched his neck as blood flowed from it; choking on his own blood as fell to the ground. Alas, it mattered not, for his god cared little from whence the blood flows...only that it flows.

Hellebron ducked as she heard another raider attack from behind, swiftly dodging what could have been a fatal blow. She then hamstrung him before slitting his throat as he knelt; kicking him as he clutched his throat. Hellebron grew restless with each kill. All around her, there was only slaughter. Her witch sisters and executioners fought with all their might just as their enemies butchered them. Tullaris swung his draich as three Chaos warriors tried to flank him from all sides. Each strike both dazzling and deadly to the eye of his victims even as they outnumbered him. Shadowblade was nowhere to be found but his presence could be felt as several barbarians were mysteriously killed in different circ*mstances; as if the very air was deadly to them. In truth, Shadowblade kept to the shadows and evaded the butcher's blade until he struck once more with supernatural speed.

Yet, even with all the bloodlust and drugs pumping in their veins, the druchii's enemies were just as relentless but outnumbered them all. For each barbarian slain, five more took his place. The barbarians cared little for their numbers. The blessings of their god had been revealed in their horrifying glory. The daemons fought side by side with their mortal followers; brandishing weapons of unholy magic. Even when cut down, the bloodletters struck back harder. The manticores, harpies and war hydras had proven themselves to be utter failures as bloodthirsters annihilated them.

"Crone-Queen!" Shadowblade yelled for her attention; effortlessly decapitating a raider at the same time. "There's too many of them! We must find better ground!"

"I agree with the assassin, my lady!" Tullaris spoke up while cutting down a bloodthirster.

"And to where, Shadowblade?! Your insolent tongue better have some useful idea! Unless I cut it out myself!"

"We can head to the bay and ship off to Naggarond! King Malekith has opened invitation to any refugees! He has told me himself!"

"And you tell me this NOW?!" Hellebron yelled in rage; stabbing a norscan in the eye with the Cursed Blade.

"My thoughts were thrown out when the walls collapsed!" Shadowblade defended. As they argued, a lion's roar broke through the sounds of battle. Hellebron looked to where it was only to find her manticore in the jaws of a fleshhound clamping down on her beast's neck. On the back of the daemonic hound was a champion in full-red armor, and behind him was the emblem of the bloody god. The manticore struggled under the jaws until its neck snapped. The beast went limp and was thrown aside by the fleshhound.

"Brides of Khaine! You shall all die and be sent to the halls of Khorne! Fight all you want! You are simply powering thetruegod of war!" The rider boasted. Hellebron's nerve was struck by the heinous words.

"BLASPHEMER!" Hellebron yelled in ire, catching his attention. "It is Khaine's domain that trespassing upon! I will deliver you soul so that he may punish you for your wretched tongue!"

The champion simply stared at her, before laughing at her threats.

"HA! Try as you might, witch! But you will die like the rest of your kin! For I am Arbaal the Undefeated! And I have slain even the mightiest titans that this world has to offer! No champion is out of my sight! All shall be reaped in the glory of Khorne! Your god offers nothing while mine offers his blessed servants! So come! Come and face me, witch!"

Hellebron took that as a challenge and was ready to accept until a hand was placed on her shoulder. She looked over to find Tullaris staring at her with stern eyes.

"No." Tullaris simply said. "This is not your fight. Gather our kin and run. I'll hold him off."

"What?! No!" She lashed out. "You do not order me! I am you superi-"

*SLAP*

Hellebron fell back as she was slapped across the face by her right-hand man. The look of shock was read all over the Crone-Queen's expression. Tullaris simply stared at her blankly, before looking towards his kin.

"Leave. Now. All of you." He ordered. Shadowblade nodded.

"Farewell, Tullaris." He responded.

"Take her to the port and go."

"At will, Dreadbringer." Shadowblade then grabbed Hellebron.

"What?! No! Let go of me!" She then refused only to be dragged away by her inferiors to safety; her weapons carried away by her sisters. The druchii ran off - much to Hellebron's refusal - leaving Tullaris behind as he faced the Chaos horde. The bloodletters attempted to chase after them, only to be cut down by the chosen of Khaine's draich. Arbaal noticed his loyalty and signalled his army to stand down.

"Hmm...I see you are far more than meets the eye." Arbaal commented. "I would have thought you to be her pet. Always obedient and never biting back."

"Crone Hellebron is the highest authority of this hold...but she is not my master. I belong to the Lord of Murder. My existence is his sword. And He guides me to whom I am to slay."

"But He has guided you to your doom." Arbaal replied.

"I have seen my fate. And it has been sealed." Tullaris lamented, before staring down on the Champion of Khorne. "But so will yours."

"Oh? Have you now?" Arbaal raised an eyebrow to that one. "Enlighten me."

"It matters not. He will come to you." The executioner said, cryptically. "Your servants know it. And they should be afraid."

The daemons looked at one another. The elf was right. And they shivered in fear. But Arbaal simply scoffed at him.

"Impossible. I am the Undefeated. All who face me shall only know death. And you are to be my next victim."

"That may be so. But Iwillbe the last you'll ever collect." Tullaris retorted. He raised his sword on his shoulder and took stance. "But enough talk. Face me and fight. Or would you have your hound take your place and you sit back for your entertainment like a craven?"

Arbaal's veins were bursting with rage. He unmounted his beast and walked towards Tullaris with axe in hand.

"You will diepainfully, elf."

"Then prove your claim." Tullaris retorted. Arbaal charged furiously and carried his axe in two hands while Tullaris sprinted towards with his draich. The spectators watched as sparks flew as their weapons clashed against each other.

The Night of Bloody Hands was coming to a close. Only one victor will come out on top.

And the Wrath of Doom will soon follow.

Chapter 10: The Slayer, The Crone and The Undefeated

Chapter Text

Har Ganeth

"Move!" Shadowblade commanded as he navigated the chaotic streets. Screams were heard in every direction. The city had become a death trap to its inhabitants. The leading northman had been held back by Tullaris. Yet, even as he stood between them and his own, the druchii quickly learned that there were daemons and their mortal slaves coming from other directions not from where they escaped. Surviving druchii were dwindling, losing a couple of executioners and witch sisters on the way.

The remaining druchii followed closely behind, along with carrying a resisting Hellebron who struggled as her wrists were now bound in rope. Yet she grew defiant even as her retinue held her down with all their might.

"Unhand me! I am your queen! And I demand my re-MMF?!" An executioner muffled her mouth with a bundle of cloth shoved in.

"Apologies, Your Highness." The executioner apologized. "But Lord Dreadbringer's final orders were to take you to safety."

"MMFFMMMFFFMMMMMFFFMFMMMF!" She snarled and thrashed against her bonds, putting much pressure on the surviving members to try and survive the night and hope to get on a ship soon. Shadowblade groaned as he could imagine the severe punishment that he and the others would face if Hellebron gets freed.

"If I could just sneak my way out of her hands when this is all over, I'm free to do as I please."The assassin thought to himself. Shadowblade didn't dwell too much on it, finding it beneath him. Not to mention, very inappropriate with Chaos running rampant. He guided the other safely as they journeyed to the bay.

As they reach another corner, however, the sight of asur crossing paths with them soon tensed. Worse, it was the fabled Shadow King and his followers that they met face-to-face. Both sides pulled their weapons and stood ready for combat. Neither side made a move, however, even when there was an opportunity to be made.

The Shadow Warriors kept their cool with bows at the ready, while the Khainite assassin and his kin drew their blades, ready to strike within distance. Only Hellebron was unarmed due to her restraints.

"What brings thegreatShadow King to our hold? Answer wisely, and I might spare you a slow and painful death." Questioned Shadowblade.

"On business." Alith answered, coldness creeping into his voice. "And as much as I would relish the thought of killing your kin, my business is elsewhere. Although..."

Alith eyed the queen behind the assassin. A faint mixture of surprise and amusem*nt drew on his face. "It is oddly fascinating to see you in such...misfortunate...circ*mstances, Hellebron."

The Crone-Queen growled and nearly jumped at him were it not for the executioners holding her back. Shadowblade and a couple of witches stood in front and pointed their daggers threateningly back at Alith.

"We are escorting her to the bay." Shadowblade replied. "This city is burning to the ground and we are abandoning as we speak. But if you intend to threaten her livelihood, then you should have brought more men. If not, then stay out of our way."

"You'll only be running straight to your execution, druchii." Alith responded. Shadowblade narrowed his eyes to the asur prince. "The northmen have taken the bay. Though, I sincerely wouldn't mourn for you."

"And taking the path behind us isn't any better, cousin..." Shadowblade coldly stated.

"Better off you die in a hole, somewhere." Alith retorted. Both groups were at a standstill; none moving unless the other did. It was only until Hayden spoke through Alith's earpiece did the tension end.

"Alith? Can you hear me? Do you read me?"

Alith slowly and carefully lowered his bow, before raising an index to gesture his enemy to wait a moment. Shadowblade was perplexed but kept his guard on. Alith pressed on the earpiece and responded.

"I can hear you, Hayden. I'm a little preoccupied right now. What is it?"

"I am detecting your presence nearby. We'll be closing in on your position."

"How close?" Alith asked. On cue, explosions and loud bangs rang the air, followed by inhuman roars.

Hellebron's cohorts were visibly startled and huddled together. Out of the corner, just behind Alith and his warriors, a swarm of Bloodletters came running from the south - not even aware of the two groups they passed by - before being eviscerated by hails of tungsten behind them. The bodies fell apart in visceral gore, shocking the druchii to see such dangerous entities reduced to minced meat.

Out of the corner, a bloodletter somehow managed to escape Death's grasp and seemed to come out unscathed. It immediately ran out of the elves' sights only for a chain to launch from the other end of where it fled from. The chain caught its target and immediately dragged its unfortunate victim back. The daemon frantically clawed the ground and screamed as it attempted to drag itself from true death. At one point, it grabbed the side of a building, quickly noticing the elves not far from it. The daemon reached a hand towards them only to be violently yanked from the wall, disappearing again. More screaming followed before a sickening crunch was heard. Silence came, and it stayed like that until a familiar figure approached from the corner. Alith recognized the Doom Slayer as he appeared in distinctive green armor; now covered in blood. In his dominant hand was his SSG; the other, the head of the bloodletter he had just killed with its spine still attached.

"Now."Hayden answered, sarcastically. Doom Slayer approached Alith; completely unfazed by the druchii's stares. Shadowblade seemed to have lost any interest in fighting the asur as he began to wonder who the hell this armoured giant was.

"Doom Slayer. Hayden." Alith greeted. "Wasn't expecting to see you so soon."

"For moments like this, it's a playground for him."Hayden remarked. Doom Slayer cast the head aside, causing a couple of druchii to flinch, before staring right back at them. Hellebron, who had been resistant and troublesome, turned quiet as she heard the name from before.

"Friends of yours?"

"Simply passing by." Alith answered. "Of course, introductions are to be made. The one in the hood and mask is Shadowblade. And the one gagged and bound is Crone Hellebrone. The rest are fodder."

"Is that so?"Hayden processed; examining her through the Slayer's helmet cam."I thought she would be baring her fangs. But I see she has been made toothless."

In response to Hayden's insult, Hellebron almost jumped before being pulled back. Doom Slayer instinctively pulled up the SSG and aimed at the witch, causing Shadowblade to go back on the defense and protect the queen along with his cohorts. Hayden simply chuckled at her expense; nowhere was he in any danger of the witch's wrath.

"I see she still has some bark left in her."Hayden bemused.

"The Queen of Har Ganeth is not to be harmed while we stand. Move or you will be moved." Shadowblade threatened. Doom Slayer menacingly stared down at the Khainite assassin. The druchii behind suddenly lost their courage as the air around the armored man had become overwhelmed and threatening. Shadowblade had noticed and was deeply disturbed by the leering presence. The stare-off last for about five seconds before daemonic howls were heard. Eye contact was broken and everyone looked to where the noise came from. Just behind the druchii, bloodcrushers and their riders stomped their way through the streets as they closed in on the group.

Alith ordered his troops to prepare an assault while Shadowblade barked his to follow him and safeguard the queen as they made their escape, with Hellebron still making muffled screams. Alith had little time to change orders with the khornates charging in fast. Lastly, Doom Slayer pulled up the Ballista once again and readied the Destroyer Blade. The druchii could not help but watch as the Slayer's mystical crossbow began glowing with fury and then launch as a magical blade sweep across the bloody cavalry.

"THERE'S THE REST OF THEM! KILL THEM AND TAKE THEIR SKUL-"

A rider's orders was cut short as the Destroyer Blade cleaved through their ranks. Torsos and legs flew all over as both man and beast splashed across the now bloodied road close to their targets just as they stepped back. They still howled their rage even as their blood sated Khorne's thirst.

A dying Chaos warrior crawled desperately towards Doom Slayer in futile anger. Everything below his chest was missing; his waist and legs now lost in the sea of corpses behind. He grabbed one of his legs; clenching it with little strength he had. Doom Slayer responded with a stomp to the head, crushing him with enough force to crack like a watermelon. All the grey matter and blood caked his boot and the ground beneath. Doom Slayer turned to Alith, prompting Hayden to speak.

"We should leave immediately. Alith, any ideas on our rendezvous?"

"Still scouting further. With the assault this heavy in every direction, our paths have grown narrow."

"Then we'll settle with cleaning it up."Doom Slayer pulled up the CSG and co*cked it as Hayden suggested."What do we do with the escaped animals?"

Alith understood what he meant. By now, Hellebron and her cronies had escaped from his grasp. However, he wasn't too miffed about it.

"Leave them." Alith decided. "They mean little to us as it is."

"Are you certain that's the right call?"Hayden asked, sounding rather concerned at the thought of the dark elves being spared. Doom Slayer was visibly fuming behind the visor.

"Yes. Besides, the norscans are still behind us, remember?" Alith reminded. Doom Slayer grunted but made no further complaints.

"Quite a gamble. But a fair point, I suppose."Hayden surmised.

"No point in crying over spilled milk." Alith shrugged. "Come on, we should get out of here. Don't want to stand here like sitting fowl."

"We'll take the lead. You should stick close behind."

"Won't complain. I'll still guide you, though."

With that, what followed after was a trail of carnage as Doom Slayer became the battering ram.

Meanwhile...

Hellebron was furious. Not only was her beloved city being besieged and now deprived of her weapons but she was also being dragged away from the battle by her own acolytes, all thanks to Tullaris usurping her from her rightful place. It angered her to no end.

"Treacherous fools!"She cursed, thoughtfully."I will have you all choke on your blood and have you all prostate before Khaine as I rip out your hearts when I'm free of my bonds!"

At the front, her chief assassin took the lead as they navigated through the streets; now riddled with their own and the savages. Shadowblade carefully watched around him and the others; ever aware of the danger presented.

Not too long after, norscans appeared and the druchii were prepared to defend her. The humans screamed their Dark Gods as they charged her people. The executioners took to defense and offed those who were within draich-striking distance. The witches stood behind them, all too impatient and eager to join their male counterparts. However, being too focused at the front made them vulnerable from the back as a screech broke from their backs.

"FLYERS!" One cried out before being snatched away as a swarm of furies descended on the unsuspecting elves. The ensuing chaos was enough to break the formations for the children of the Khaine, but never their resolve. Few norscans managed to get through the defenses and wadded their way in the crowd with their axes. The witches didn't hold back and started stabbing and slicing the closest invaders within reach.

It was, however, enough for Hellebron to loosen a bit. As her guards focused on every direction that would be a potential blind eye to them, the Blood Queen "tripped" and fell over one of them. She managed to grab a handle of something and pulled it back to her as she was lifted again. She smiled to herself as she felt the sharp edge on her fingertip. The guards were barely aware of her due to their surrounding them as she planned her freedom. She quickly went to work on the rope, cutting hastily but silently with the guards now distracted.

By the time her wrists were free, one guard noticed as he checked on her and warned the others.

"Queen Hellebron is free! Hold her-" He was shortly punched in the throat; dropping to the floor as he choked. Hellebron quickly took his sword and began making quick work on a fury, before driving the sword further into the guard's neck. The guards froze seeing their queen freed and out for blood. Hellebron lashed out indiscriminately with her temporary weapon, regardless of who was in her way. The druchii were quick to notice and avoided her fatal blows; with only a few of theirs dying. The norscans, not so much. The Blood Queen matched their rage and triumphed over them in such a ferocious state she barely registered the wounds she received by them. Furies swooped down on her as well, only to fall victim to her berserk state.

"SHADOWBLADE!" She screeched in fury at the assassin's "mutiny". Shadowblade himself heard her call his name as he drove a blade into a norscan's eye. He felt a pang of fear in his chest and quickly turned back to see Hellebron now raising a sword over his head. Instinctively, he raised his in time and was now at her mercy. Hellebron's maddened blood-red eyes bore through his soul, almost making him flinch as they crossed blades. It soon devolved into a personal fight between the two; leading to Hellebron kicking the assassin in the gut and throwing him in an alley. Shadowblade was quick to recover and evaded a strike to the neck in time. Hellebron thrust with her sword while the assassin parried in kind. Where Hellebron was all about force and aggression, Shadowblade relied on his speed and nimbleness to his advantage. The battle with the norscans continued without them.

Hellebron shrieked at him. "YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR TREACHERY! I WILL CASTRATE YOU AND FEED YOU YOUR OWN co*ck BEFORE I EVEN SLIT YOUR THROAT! YOU AND TULLARIS ONCE I FIND HIM!"

"DAMMIT HELLEBRON! We were doing it for your own safety!" He defended, deflecting another blow from the left. "This city is falling and we need to resettle in Naggarond! So that King Malekith may lead us to victory once more!"

"AND ALLOW THAT BITCH BY HIS SIDE TO TAKE ALL THE CREDIT?! NEVER!" She lashed out, going for an overhead strike to which Shadowblade avoided. "HE REFUSED ME AN ARMY TO SAVE KHAINE'S HOLY GROUND! WHY SHOULD I THROW MY LOT WITH HIM ONLY TO BE THROWN AWAY?! THAT whor*MOTHER OF HIS WILL LAUGH AT ME! THEY ALL WILL!"

"Your madness is blinding you, Hellebron! Staying here is suicide!" Shadowblade argued, striking back with a non-lethal jab to the ribs; focusing on disarming than outright killing. This only angered her further. Hellebron took all of her strength swung back at the assassin only to be redirected to a wall. The force in her swing caused the blade to be embedded into the thick wall. She strained to pull it back out, leaving her at Shadowblade's mercy. However, the assassin had other ideas.

"I'm sorry, my queen." He apologized. "I have no desire to kill you, but I will not stay by your side any longer. I relinquish my service to you. And I return you your blades and your leadership."

The assassin pulled out her weapons in a bundle, and soon fled into the darkness further in the alley, leaving her with the remaining druchii left fighting the norscans. The Blood Queen could only scream back in anguish.

"COME BACK, YOU CRAVEN! COME BACK SO I CAN CLAW THAT f*ckING HEART OFF FROM YOU!"

Silence greeted back, however. The anger subsided as she took deep breathes. Glancing at her weapons on the floor, Hellebron hurriedly unwrapped the bundle and grabbed a hold of her blades once more.

The Deathsword and the Parrying Blade were within her grasp once more. She turned back to the still-raging battle. Her first target came swinging with a battle axe. She ducked below it and retaliated with a stab through the left thigh. The deep puncture left the warrior bleeding profusely before his head went flying. Furies swooped down but Hellebron struck first with the same manic hysteria. With their leader back in the fray, the druchii's morale had boosted considerably but were now back to being under Hellebron's heel much to their dismay. The Blood Queen simply massacred her way through the tide of Chaos as if possessed by Khaine himself. Their enemies' ranks were thrown into chaos (no pun intended) and were now being pushed back by a rage-consumed Hellebron. Scores of them were cut down even as they cried out for the Blood God, but Khorne stayed silent and watched admirably of the dark elf's rampage. The few smart enough to realize through their berserk haze turned and ran as they realized they were no match for the Blood Queen's fury. However, as soon as they turned, a swarm of Sisters of Slaughters came charging without warning from their backs. The gladiatrixes themselves had begun their own retreat were it not for the nearby cries of Hellebron herself. Wasting no time, they charged and lashed at the air as they struck down furies with their whips while blocking the raiders' escape. Now trapped, the norscans had no choice but to perish at the hands of the Bloody Handed God's chosen. At that moment, the druchii received a great boon. Their ferocity was rewarded with victory. A small one, but a first to relish.

As the last of the invaders fell, Hellebron clawed out the heart of a dying raider with her bare hands and raised it into the air for all to see.

She yelled in triumph. "REVEL IN SLAUGHTER! REVEL WITH ME! REVEL IN THE WILL OF KHAINE!"

Her sisters and brothers yelled in rejoice as she proudly claimed. Such a victory was followed by a short announcement.

"But a lesson must be made for early transgressions..." Suddenly, Hellebron struck her sword through the neck of a witch before stabbing another with an uppercut within reach. The clamor instantly died as she drew blood from her very sisters.

"Anywho dare lay a hand on me again and try to usurp from my place shall join these whor*s!" Hellebron threatened. "NOW BACK TO YOUR PLACES AND LISTEN CAREFULLY! WE SHALL GATHER OUR REMAINING SISTERS AND BROTHERS! AND DRIVE THESE INVADERS FROM THE HOLY FORTRESS OF KAELA MENSHA KHAINE!"

The acolytes soon stepped aside and made way for the queen herself; her temper fouler than the corpses beneath their feet and in ill-mood. They thought themselves lucky for she would have killed them by the droves. Still, they knew better and made careful considerations to avoid repeating their mistakes.

For Hellebron, it was enough to dissuade any dissension and further disobedience from them. The only thing missing was Shadowblade's head on a platter but that could wait. For now, all she needed was to take back the city, kill the invaders - both Chaos and Asur - and perhaps learn more of the mysterious figure known as Doom Slayer that she had crossed paths with earlier...

Present...

A bloodletter shrieked as an arrow struck its eye. It made the grave mistake of pulling as the momentary distraction was enough for Doom Slayer to throw a right hook and stab the Doomblade to the side of its head. He knocked it knocked aside and launched several sticky bombs from the CSG into the charging daemons. Each shot landing on its intended targets. Explosions rocked the earth and bodies tumbled as Doom Slayer blasted his way through the hordes of Khorne. Behind him, Alith and his shadow warriors struck back with arrows and swords as they acted as a backup for the former while he swept the invaders with ease.

The Bloody Legion, in turn, relentlessly swarmed with overwhelming numbers to push forward. Alas, it was futile on their apart as Doom Slayer pulled up the chaingun and eviscerated them even as its barrels multiplied. Rounds of tungsten shredded through their numbers like no other. The blessings of Khorne were useless as they did not extend to man-made weaponry, much less one so advance beyond imperial invention. Their foe was beyond their match but they would rather die with raised axes and swords in hand than run like cowards. However, the daemons had other ideas and soon used the mortals as meatshields to take the brunt of the assault. Whether to gain time until reinforcements arrived or turn to tail and disgrace Khorne's realm, their blood would be spilled instead. Not the elves.

"Push forward!" Commanded Alith. "Aim above and behind! Show no mercy to those who come close!"

The Shadow King stabbed an arrow into a descending fury before pulling and knocking it a charging bloodletter. Behind him, his men fought with skill and unity throughout the fight, suffering little save for the few individuals unlucky to be snatched from the skies. Alith gritted his teeth. Their deaths would be avenged and retaliated with sword and bow in hand. Doom Slayer would likely agree were it not for his muteness and his total priority on killing daemons while launching micro missiles onto the enemy reserves.

*ROOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!*

The sudden bellow of a beast announcing itself alerted everyone on the battlefield. Stomping its way past its kin, sometimes crushing them under its fists, the monstrosity towered as great as the Bloodthirsters but appeared differently. Where the greater daemons stood on their hinds legs, this one was on all fours. Beneath its meaty fists, an extra set of arms protruded its waist, giving it a daemonic and hulking T-rex appearance. On its back, riddled eight swords in a ritualistic manner with a twisted emblem at the centre of its back. And behind it were several warriors holding it with chains, which did little to hold back the monster's already savage nature.

"SLAUGHTERBRUTE!"A bloodletter roared, before being backhanded into a wall by the great monster itself. The Slaughterbrute's vicious intent targeted everyone as it lashed out indiscriminately, indifferent to friend and foe alike. Each swing of its massive arms unleashed power and force as it slammed to any solid within reach.

"HOLD!" Alith ordered, his men standing stalwart even as their hearts gripped with fear. Alith looked up to Doom Slayer.

"I don't suppose you could lend us some of your strength, Slayer?" He asked. Doom Slayer nodded as he pulled out the Super Shotgun, the meathook ready for launch. In one click, the meathook shot and sunk into the monster's flesh. The beast burst into flame, now more enraged than ever before. The chain pulled him towards it, readying himself before finally giving a powerful haymaker to the Slaughterbrute's face.

The force of the impact was enough for the beast to stumble to back in shock. Combined with the warriors pulling on its chain, the Slaughterbrute landed on its backside; inadvertently crushing its masters under its weight. The remaining warriors made

Doom Slayer landed on his feet again and no sooner resumed the assault with the chaingun. Tungsten slugs pierced through the daemonic beast's flesh. The slaughterbrute cried out in pain as the bullets bared down on it. It hurriedly stood back and blocked its head with its large hand. Bits of its flesh and fingers were flying off as the hand was slowly being eaten away. The slaughterbrute was in an uproar. However, now freed, it quickly grabbed its chain with the other hand and whipped back at the Slayer.

*CRACK*

The monster made a direct hit as the chain found its target. Doom Slayer was pushed back from a hit to the chest; his thumb on the trigger off. This was enough for the brute to whip at him again. However, Doom Slayer evaded this time and switched mods instantly. Now, he resumed hurting again. The energy shield flashed up as the brute came charging; stopped by it before quickly clawing through it. The brute was losing mass despite its thick hide getting in the way. This angered it further and was desperately breaking the shield. However, the shield now suddenly launched itself into its face as Doom Slayer kept the trigger on. The brute staggered back, prompting Doom Slayer to rush in and attack. He threw a solid punch at its face again. Adrenaline kicked in and the slaughterbrute flailed at him in an attempt to get rid of him. Doom Slayer leapt and landed on top of it. He pulled out his axe and drove it into the monster's shoulder. The creature shrieked in anger but Doom Slayer immediately stabbed it with the Doomblade, repeatedly. The slaughterbrute began swinging its massive arms as it tried to get the marine off of him, inadvertently attack the daemons and its masters. Alith and his men managed to stay out of the monster's way while fending off the daemons. The forces of Chaos were thrashed and crushed as Doom Slayer forced the gigantic beast to slaughter them indiscriminately. The last of the forces escaped and fled.

Doom Slayer had it follow the survivors, stabbing it again to hunt them down. Alith followed after the two and called his men to him.

"Asur! We move forward!"

"RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHH!" Cried the champion of Khorne. Arbaal swung his axe with Tullaris merely deflecting it with his blade. Steel clanged and resounded the air around them. Surrounding them, the daemons and khornates watched with excitement as the duel raged. Brute strength met uncanny precision. The duel lasted for what felt like hours only for it to be merely half of an hour. It was a battle of power and skill between the two warriors. The executioner was precise and timed his attacks against the raging warlord. However, his skills were no match for the Undefeated's pain intolerance. Tullaris' body screamed in agony as his muscles strained and bones break underneath his armor. But the Chosen of Khaine was relentless and fought against the pain.

Tullaris parried another attack from the warlord, cutting through his shoulder. Arbaal shrugged it off and attacked again. The axe was swung relentlessly and tirelessly back at the executioner. Tullaris could feel his blade cracking under pressure. The First Draich was one of the finest weapons and most prized symbols amongst the druchii. But even it was losing its endurance to the blows. But the executioner would not give up there. He would die with his sword still in hand then beg for mercy.

Arbaal pushed him back and the two were at a standstill.

"You are relentless. I commend you for that." Arbaal remarked in respect.

"Do not privy me with false idolization." Tullaris retorted. "This is all just a game to you. I'll die knowing the Hellwalker will come for you."

Arbaal snorted. "So it is true...the Gods are aware, then? Good, he'll be my next hunt."

Both warriors charged into one another. But as they got closer within killing distance, Arbaal did the unexpected. The warlord dragged his axe to the floor and ensnaring a corpse of his fallen brethren. He launched it at Tullaris, causing him to swing his blade in defense. A fatal mistake on his part. As he did, a sharp pain landed on his abdomen. Time moved slowly to a crawl. Tullaris looked down and saw Arbaal's axe drive into his gut. He dropped his draich and vomited blood from the mouth. The Chaos champion kicked the executioner and pulled his weapon off him. Tullaris was now laying on the ground, surrounded by other corpses. Dying and without a weapon, he could hear the warlord approaching him. The warlord stood proudly above him; a deranged smile appearing on his face.

"Blood for the Blood God. Skull for the Skull Throne." He prayed before raising his axe in triumph above Tullaris.

Suddenly, a bunch of daemons came running in terror from one direction. Arbaal stopped as a massive Slaughterbrute burst into the scene with Doom Slayer on his back. The beast thrashed and crushed those in its path.

*ROOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!*

Having outlived its purpose, Doom Slayer brought his axe up and swing it unto the Slaughterbrute's neck; decapitating it. Excessive amounts of blood uncontrollably spurted from the stump of its neck. The body crashed onto the floor uselessly as the Marine jumped off of it, Doom Slayer wasted no time and sprayed hot slugs from his shotgun on full-auto. Behind him, Shadow Warrior shot arrows and clashed with the berserker. Arbaal lost interest in the dying Tullaris and engaged the Hellwalker.

"KILL THEM! KILL THE ELVES! SPILL THEIR BLO-?!" He yelled, only to be now flanked by a large number of Druchii swarming from the southwest. The Blood Queen returned with a bigger army in full force.

"KILL THE INFIDELS! SHOW THEM THAT KHAINE EMPOWERS US!" Hellebron cried out with the wrath of a banshee. The sisters of slaughter, witches, and a small force of executioners charged with righteous fury. On all sides, the warriors of Chaos were being pushed back by the wrath of Har Ganeth and the Doom Slayer.

As all sides turn into bloodshed, the dying Tullaris grew tired from the blood loss. The cries deafened and his vision faded slowly before him. In his final moments, the executioner chuckled to himself while coughing up the blood from his mouth. His purpose had been fulfilled, and now welcomed Khaine to his heart.

BFG Division 2020 - Mick Gordon

Doom Slayer unloaded another slug into the head of a daemon before kicking it back at its friends. An ice bomb was launched and both mortal and daemon were encased in frost. The Slayer unleashed a shockwave from his punch after; breaking them apart like ice cubes. Around him, the battle became an orgy of blood and combat. Alith's men fought valiantly against the wave of Chaos fiends with steel and arrow while - to Doom Slayer's shock - the force of five-thousand half-naked crazy elves screaming bloody murder. Yet they seem more focused on killing the Chaos worshippers than his and Alith's group. If it came down to killing them as well, so be it.

The whole battle became a cacophony of screams, mad laughter, and clanging steel. Doom Slayer pumped his shotgun again and shot a sticky bomb at a crowd of daemons. A bloodthirster came crashing to the earth and slammed his axe towards the marine. Doom Slayer switched to the chaingun and whittled down its flesh until bone and flesh were exposed before giving a swift slash to the throat. The daemon died clutching its necking and drowning in its own fireblood.

On Alith's part, the Asur nocked an arrow straight into the exposed visor of a raider and killing him in an instant. Switching to his sword, Alith danced around the battlefield with pirouettes and precise stabs and slashes through the exposed spots of khornate warriors and bloodletters. On the side of the druchii, Hellebron revelled in the carnage, laughing hysterically like the mad witch she was. Few bloodletters could match her tenacity and valour. She would see that the entire Bloody Legions of Khorne die by her hands than allow the gain a foothold of her domain.

In her madden haze, the Blood Queen was lost in the violence. She wasn't aware of her surrounding until she found herself in Doom Slayer's crosshairs. She froze in her place, now realizing she was at Death's Door. In a split second, Doom Slayer pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed past Hellebron, however, and landing a shot at a fury. The flying daemon's head exploded violently behind the Blood Queen. Hellebron looked back and was completely shocked by her "saviour's" rescue. Doom Slayer ignored her and launched himself another one of the furies with the Meathook. Hellebron quickly regained her senses and fought off the invasion with her sisters.

In the midst of this senseless carnage, Arbaal could only feel outraged and frustrated at this surprise attack.

"GrrRRRRAAAAAGH! DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL!" He yelled his frustration. He called upon his fleshhound, who kept itself busy clawing and tearing its way through the druchii. The beast obeyed its master's command and allowed him to mount. Both master and mount tore their way through the crowd. Arbaal searched for the one responsible for foiling his plan. He soon heard the loud explosions and turn to see the green knight mowing down several bloodletters and felling another of his bloodthirsters. His god gave him vision and this was the man he needed to kill. He kicked his hound and beckoned it to charge. The fleshhound charged its way through the crowd, indiscriminately. The fleshhound made a jump and pounced on the Slayer. Doom Slayer was slammed to the ground - dropping whatever he had on him - but quickly stabbed its paw with his wrist blade. The hound yelped as it backed its feet off of him. Doom Slayer rolled to the side and pulled out the Heavy Cannon, spraying missiles at its face. Flesh tore off its face, revealing bone and boiling blood dripping on the ground. The fleshhound growled in anger as it felt the pain of the rockets hitting its face. It began to slash at him with its claws only for Doom Slayer's thrusters to push him back and flash-step the hound's attacks. He pulled up the chaingun and activated its shield, spraying rounds on it. Arbaal's armor protected most of his body but the rounds were enough to make dents through it. The hound wasn't so lucky, its flesh stripped even further, giving it a glowing, ghoulish appearance. The beast clawed ferociously but was smacked by the flying energy shield.

Angered further, the beast made one last pounce at the Slayer. Doom Slayer saw the move and charged towards it. Pulling out the infamous Painsaw, Doom Slayer slid underneath and pushed the chainsaw into its underbelly. The beast fell to the ground with its guts spilled; its master flying off of it. Arbaal crashed into a pile of corpses but quickly got up and went to his hound's side. The hound's laboured breathing was slowing down. It looked at its master one final time before taking its final breath. Arbaal's anger overwhelmed and felt tears of blood pouring from his eyes. He took up his axe once more and saw red as he charged on foot at Doom Slayer at blinding speeds. The marine blasted buckshot into his armor but Arbaal pushed through the pain and drew his axe. Doom Slayer pulled out his own and raised in time to stop Arbaal's from further damage. Their eyes; each a different side of rage. One unstoppable, the other blind.

"I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATH PAINFUL AND DRAWN OUT BEFORE I TEAR YOUR SKULL OUT! YOU WILL PAY FOR KILLING MY PRIZED HOUND!" Arbaal screamed. Doom Slayer headbutted him in response, putting the distance between the two of them. Arbaal skid to the floor but was back up in no time. He hefted the handle and prepared to swing again. Doom Slayer ducked and strafed with his boosters to the left, landing a direct hit to the champion's side. Arbaal struck back with the handle of his axe and raised it over his shoulders. Suddenly, something jumped onto his back and stabbed him multiple times on his shoulders. Arbaal quickly grabbed whoever it was and threw it back at Doom Slayer. The Slayer ducked and the attacked revealed herself to be none other than the queen herself. Hellebron stabbed her parrying blade to the ground and snarled back at the champion in contempt. Doom Slayer returned a thousand-yard glare back at Arbaal as well. Neither deigned at the thought of an alliance but neither voiced protests. In their minds, Arbaal was the bigger threat and the help was out of convenience.

Arbaal roared and charged with malevolent intent as did Doom Slayer and Hellebron. The two worked in tandem and in-synched, with Doom Slayer soaking up the damages and delivering a few powerful hits while Hellebron evaded and stabbed through the exposed gaps with calculated steps. The two worked independently but instinctively took turns getting in a blow on the large khornate. Arbaal's rage and determination stopped him from giving up and stood his ground even as their assault bore him down. He swung wildly between the two opponents. It infuriated him that each strike he made was exchanged with two more blows from the two. And while it was certainly not against Khorne's doctrine, it certainly pissed him off that they were beating the best of him.

Around them, the battle fought on. His bloody legions were steadfast but the sheer ferocity of his two enemies reinvigorated both of their people with the same fanaticism. It was here that the Asur and Druchii were united as one, if only for a brief moment.

Hellebron stabbed him to his side, exposed from all the lacerations and dents on his armor. Arbaal grunted but backhanded her to the face. The crone was sent flying but the Slayer remained standing. He took all of his strength into his own and slammed onto the champion's shoulder. Arbaal's pauldron cracked under the pressure and the axehead made its way into his flesh. Blood spurted out like a geyser and Arbaal screamed in sheer agony. Adrenaline still kicked in and the champion punched back Doom Slayer before pulling the axe out of his wound through sheer will. Now, he wielded two axes in hand, even if one was elven-made. Doom Slayer dug his fingers into the ground to balance himself. He glanced to the side to find a greatsword laying next to a dead elf. He grabbed it and extended his wrist blade. Both men were now armed with weapons. Arbaal roared a battle cry and the two warriors clashed again, exchanging blows in unbridled fury. Arbaal, with the Destroyer and Korhil's axe; and Doom Slayer with the First Draich.

"DIE ALREADY!" Screamed Arbaal. He had slain countless foes and beasts in the name of Kharnath for centuries. But none were so determined and unkillable as the Doom Slayer. He had figured him to be a challenging opponent but one that would fall like the rest. Instead, he was fighting tooth, nail, blood, sweat, and spirit to even lay a scratch on his opponent.

Doom Slayer, however, spenteonsin the depths of Hell. He had slaughtered countless demons, both lesser and greater than the daemons of Chaos. Added to his extensive training and control of his rage in Argent D'Nur, Doom Slayer embodied the manifestation of the Inevitable. In the eyes of Arbaal's victims, he was a dreaded being. But to the Slayer, the champion was just a big fish in a smaller pond.

Arbaal swung both axes in an aggressive manner, getting in as many hits as he could. Doom Slayer deflected and parried with the First Draich. The blade which was once thought cracked and damaged somehow retained its strength and integrity in its new owner's hands. Its wielder's spirit flowed through the blade and wrapped it in the same refined energy.

As the two blades met, the force of the impact launched a blast of energy around them. The surrounding daemons, man and elves were blown back from the magical explosion. The two still stood in place; their weapons locked as they pushed against one another's strength. A test of might and prowess shook the very earth beneath them, leaving large cracks to form. Arbaal's axes drew closer to the Slayer's armor with each second passing.

In the midst of the explosion's aftermath, Alith stood back up and readied an arrow. His aim lined up perfectly straight towards the warlord. However, a berserker tackled him to the ground; indirectly misfiring at the Doom Slayer's helmet.

The arrow bounced his helmet harmlessly but the momentary distraction was enough for Arbaal to push his axes down further, landing on his shoulders. Doom Slayer dropped the draich and pushed the axes off of him. While sing his strength to push them out, the Slayer's flame belcher spewed fire into the warlord's face. Arbaal screamed in pain but was unrelenting. Doom Slayer's thrusters pushed him forward; allowing him to headbutt Arbaal instantly. Arbaal backed away; stunned from the blow. The Slayer grabbed the draich from the ground and struck first. Arbaal swung his axe to reach first but was impaled instantly.

Arbaal dropped his axes but reached forward in an attempt to strangle Doom Slayer. His hands grasped his neck and strangled tightly, with his opponent overcoming them and bending them backwards.

Arbaal screamed but was silenced as a sharp pain came directly to his neck. Hellebron stabbed her Cursed Blade deep into his neck; blade jutting through the opening. Hellebron pulled back her shorter blade, with the mighty champion down on his knees. His strength sapped and now at the mercy of the very man he was supposed to hunt down. Arbaal spent his final moments defiantly watching the Doom Slayer extending his Doomblade and swiping across his neck in an instant. The head flew off a good distance and landing not far from where his body was. Arbaal's decapitation was quick, but he felt his soul ripped violently from his vessel. He was not being sent to the realm of Khorne, where his fellow lords would fight eternally in the Brass Citadel, but to the Doom Slayer. Arbaal's thoughts were that of terror as he was absorbed into the armor of the Slayer, screaming before ceasing from existence.

The daemons following under Arbaal felt his presence gone. Only the Doom Slayer remained standing. He pulled Arbaal's head and threw it back at them, before firing up his Chaingun again. Realizing the threat, the daemons of Khorne- both less and greater - fled with their tails behind their backs. Their mortal followers followed their example and fled with their fighting spirits gone and headless without a leader. Doom Slayer was ready to pursue them but Hayden urged him to check on Alith.

"I believe we have other concerns besides the invaders. We will have to confront the more...fanatic...residents of this city."

Doom Slayer nodded and turned to Alith, who is clutching his chest. There were deep cuts into his armor. Some even penetrating through his flesh. However, they appeared superficial.

"Alith, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Hayden." Alith grunted under the bruises. "Just a few bruises. And a couple of broken ribs. But nothing too serious that I can't handle."

The reunion was cut short as Hellebron's figure approached menacingly. Behind her, her posse of fellow witches, gladiatrixes, and executioners surrounded him and his Asur companions. Alith backed behind Doom Slayer and readied his blade while the latter straightened his back and sized her up with equal intimidation. The druchii backed down a bit under the intense aura surrounding Doom Slayer, save for their queen who remained unflinching.

Both man and druchii glared at each other.

"Trespassers on my lands are killed on sight. Especially for those who carry alongside Asur scum. As it is by my decree." Hellebron flatly stated as a fact to Doom Slayer. "However, you fought and drove the enemy off from my lands. So consider your crimes ignored...for now."

Doom Slayer's fists curled up further in seething anger. Hayden simply interrupted him through his intercoms.

"No need for further violence. Allow me to do the talking. I'll have her believe that I am your voice. Just make subtle gestures and follow my lead."

Doom Slayer grunted but allowed the doctor to do his magic. But if things don't go well...well there's plenty of ground to make graves around here. Hayden soon spoke through his speakers.

"I am Doom Slayer."

"I've been told that already." Hellebron quipped. "The question is: why come here? Why step onto my lands with so few in numbers? One so foolish to plan with little resources should be executed for such stupidity."

"To you, that may be the case."Hayden argued."However, we intended to go incognito. Speed by boat was our only means of travel. However, we were shipwrecked here instead."

"And where exactly did you tend to land?" Hellebron questioned. Her eyes gave a withering look straight at Doom Slayer's face. He was getting really pissed at this hag wasting his time. However, Hayden was certain to make this smooth somehow.

"I was supposed to arrive in Naggarond until the invaders forced us to arrive here instead. I am here to speak to your king."

The queen gave him hollow laughter in response.

"And you think him - Malekith the Witch-King - to be a noble who is worth hearing your words? You are indeed a fool to be coming here! Especially one who has brought theinfamousAlith Anar under his tow!"

Hellebron's face darkened visibly as she leaned closer. Doom Slayer could see her skin sag under that ugly scowl of hers. "You are not here to trade words! This is an assassination! Simple and plainly as that!"

The Blood-Queen's eyes stared deeply into Doom Slayer's eyes in intense silence. Alith was prepared to kill her in a heartbeat before he witnessed the unexpected. Her lips soon turned into a bloodthirsty grin.

"I wish to join you!" She said with malice creeping in her voice. The response caught the three off guard (alongside the other elves) and Hayden responded appropriately.

"And why would you want to?"Hayden asked, with Doom Slayer tilting his head a bit curiously.

She scoffed and said with conviction, "Bah! Why wouldn't I?! I have sent messages to send in reinforcements and this whole siege is the result of his negligence! And what I want now is blood, Slayer! The Witch-King's blood! And I will be the first to watch him choke as his heart ripped out and his lungs drowned in his own blood if means honoring Khaine! And consider this paying for your crimes and a favour owed."

Hayden considered breaking the illusion but held his tongue a bit. It seemed all three would benefit this alliance, somehow. However, two out of three weren't in a rush to have that happened but business needed to come first.

"In that case, I...suppose it wouldn't hurt to have you join us. Unless it does not pan out, stay out of our way and let us do our job. But I don't hold much faith if the Witch-King turns us back."

"I look forward to it, Slayer." Hellebron replied. "I'll have the mounts prepared! Druchii! Have the horses ready!"

The Blood-Queen went elsewhere to prepare the journey, leaving much confusion between the three.

"Hayden, are you really out of your depth?!" Alith whispered harshly. "That woman is a bloody lunatic and you think to parley with her with the promise of Malekith's blood?! On any other day, I would've accepted such an offer byonlya margin! But not right now!"

Doom Slayer silently agreed if his shaking fists were to go by. Hayden, however, responded with a cold but calculating demeanour.

"Obviously, it is a risk. But if this doesn't end up like it's planned...well we'll have to tell Teclis to go for Plan B."

"A what?"

"A contingency, I mean."

Alith was completely exasperated but was too tired and bruised to even protest. He looked straight into Doom Slayer's eyes.

"And you, Slayer? Do you want to go with Hayden's plan?" Asked Alith. The Slayer simply looked as annoyed as the Asur was. He raised two fingers before motioning a thumb across his neck. Alith looked puzzled and tried to grasp his thinking.

"He says he'll agree, I think. More or less."

"Again with the interpretation. Was that even a yes?"

"Yes."Hayden answered right as Doom Slayer nodded. Alith took a deep breath as he tried to comprehend the madness of his plan. However, his ribs put him back to reality and forced him to find a healer among his party.

"We'll talk more of this when we get there. But I won't go near any of those witches! Especially Hellebron!"

Alith walked away - checking on his warriors - leaving Doom Slayer to ponder.

When this was over, Teclis owes him big time, he thought.

The Silver Pinnacle

Neferata watched the tenacity and fighting prowess of the Doom Slayer through her crystal ball. The magic to even scry would have been straining for a fledgling sorcerer. But for the Lahmian Queen, she had lived in the time when Nehekera was at its peak, and she was a master of her own craft.

Sitting on her throne, she entertained herself with watching the warrior slaughter an entire legion of Chaos warriors and cutting them down like a scythe through a field of crops. He was an apex and he now gained her attention. She had seen such daring heroes face overwhelming odds like the Bretonnians with their chivalric knights - to the point she would "invite" them to her home where be entertained until she got bored and took to "wine-tasting" instead - but none had the physicality to even stand against three Bloodthirsters at once.

And the weapons he wielded were unlike anything she had seen before. Not even the dwarfs could muster up such guns at rapid speeds. The Lahmian Queen was fully invested in this "Doom Slayer" her spy called him, however odd he was since he looked nothing like those dwarfs who try to invade her home from time to time.

Resting on her lap was Asya of whom she caressed and twirled her hair with indulgence. The servant proved her useful and worthy of Neferata's hand.

"You have gained yourself a true audience with me, Asya." Neferata praised. "And I am deeply pleased by your work. You have granted yourself a place in my inner circle."

"R-Really?!" Asya shot her head up, excited by the news. "I-I am forever gratef-!"

"Hush, now." Neferata placed a finger on her subordinate's lips. Such overeagerness was frowned upon but Neferata was feeling generous. "Go now, you've earned your reward."

Neferata planted a kiss on Asya's lips before gently patting her cheek to move. The Lahmian scurried, finally in rejoice to be in her mistress's circle. As the vampire exited the room, a lone cat strode past her. Neferata sat up straight and waited expectantly for her consort.

"Naaima. What news do you bring from the outside world?"

The cat transformed before her. The cat's black fur shifted into pale hairless skin. Legs that were once on all fours reached to stand up like a human. Now before her, a woman of Cathayan origins looked upon her with a serious expression. The woman pulled out a scroll from underneath her silk sleeve.

"A message from the Von Carstein. It is Mannfred, my lady."

Neferata rolled her eyes. The Von Carsteins were a stain among the bloodlines besides from the Strigoi. Each and every vampire with that name was a complete and utter loon. And rather than manipulate through the shadows and allowing their race to survive, the Von Carsteins would rather scream and swing their swords around in the air, gathering the attention of everyone with a vendetta against her people.

And Mannfred was no exception. One of Vlad's many bastard sucklings, Mannfred was the latest line of failures of his own kin. While Neferata had no issue with Vlad conquering the entirety of the Empire - even considering the thought of an alliance when he almost did succeed (along with her previous fling with him) - Mannfred was a halfwit by a long stretch. His history of betrayals and backstabbings was well-recorded and well-documented. And while just as ambitious as his sire before him, Mannfred had zero charm compared to Vlad.

Still, if there's one positive thing about him is that he was alotpreferable to Konrad. And that was saying something

"Ugh. Him?" Neferata scoffed. "Very well then. Hand me the paper."

Naaima gave her the scroll, handing it to her in her hands. The Lahmian Queen read the thing out of sheer boredom, figuring it was another of Mannfred's schemes of possible failure.

However, with each word she read, her eyes widened with horror. Rereading it again, her hands started to shake soon after.

"I-It can't be..." Neferata panted. "T-That bastard thinks he could actually do it...!"

Neferata shot up from her seat; with Naaima spooked by her Mistress's erratic breathing and horrified expressions.

"Naaima, I will be journeying to Sylvania. Get our finest to accompany us. I will have a word with Mannfred!"

The Lahmian Queen walked past her consort in a hurry, dropping the paper on the floor immediately. The Cathayan wondered what made the Queen so terrified and picked up the letters.

Dread ran down her spine as she read the most important words she spotted.

"...come to Sylvania, quickly. For thou must witness the rise of Nagash, once more..."

Chapter 11: Deliverance of Evil

Chapter Text

The Brass Keep...

Khorne was pleased by the bloodshed. His power grew upon the carnage wrought on by the Slayer. The spikes on his armour grew sharper with every inch. His throne reaching greater heights with more skulls. And the blood of mortals flooded into his rivers in tsunamis. The rush of power surged like adrenaline to his body. And though his power was not enough to overbalance the other Gods - knowing the Slayer's absorption powers -, Khorne was satisfied by the Great Slayer's willpower.

"I have made a wonderful investment."He reflected. In the corner of his eyes, he noticed the greatest of his Bloodthirsters flying towards him. The greater daemon landed and bowed before his creator. The Brass Lord's eyes gazed upon the kneeling daemon, smouldering in irritation at his interruption.

"Ka'Bandha."

"Master."Greeted the Bloodthirster, respectfully."Forgive my presence. The other Gods have sent emissaries to your fortress. They have called for an urgent meeting. One concerning the matter of this world."

Khorne raised a brow and snorted at the request.

"Tell them it can wait. My interests are elsewhere. I will not be bothered with another of their hysteria."

"But master..."Ka'Bandha insisted, risking the ire of his lord."They say a great evil is returning. In the lands of the Cursed Pit."

"The Cursed Pit? But that place has been-"Khorne stopped amidst the mention before turning to the Greater Daemon, erupting in fury and terror.

"WHAAAAT?!"Screamed the Blood God, the blood from the rivers boiled and his throne's skulls rattling under the heavyweight and fear as he spoke in umbrage."BY WHO?!"

"Servants of the Great Necromancer are gathering and await for his resurrection there. The other gods await you, lord."

Khorne fumed and grew tempestuous. The return of the Lord of Death spelt doom for the world. Both for the mortals and the Immaterium. The god stood up from his throne and marched his way out of his fortress.

"I shall take my leave here, Ka'Bandha."Khorne stated."I will attend this meeting alone."

"By your will, Lord."The bloodthirsters stood aside and allowed the Lord of Brass to leave, his steps creating quakes as he stomped his way. Fear was not an emotion Chaos was accustomed to. Only two things can cause them to their attention. The Doom Slayer... and Nagash.

Har Ganeth...

"Get the mounts ready! Put your backs into it!" Howled Hellebron. The druchii reined in their beasts of burden to the forefront of the gates straight towards Naggarond. They could only go gather as many mounts from what limited stables they had left. Alith, meanwhile, called in his forces outside the gates to enter. After much displeasure and grief from his men, Alith was able to rein them in though barely in the presence of the fanatic followers of Khaine. Both sides had kept their distance since then.

As for where Doom Slayer was in of all this, he returned to the bay to sweep up the remaining forces of Chaos. The carnage he wrought on his foes was swift and brutal. The warriors of Chaos stood no chance against the onslaught of the Hellwalker and his plethora of weapons at his side. He rained down upon them with fire and fury like a maelstrom of metal. It would have taken the elves of Naggaroth months fending off the followers of the Dark Gods.

Now, it took only but a scant few hours to drive them off the shores of Har Ganeth with Doom Slayer on their side. Many of the witches who have fought alongside (albeit unwillingly) were awestruck by the full might of him in action. At the same, they are severely disappointed that they could not get as many sacrifices to Khaine with Doom Slayer taking the lion's share. They still prayed to their god for giving them strength to fight the barbarians of the Chaos Wastes.

As the fight continued, Hayden analyzed the energy expelled from the daemons since landfall. Since the first encounter, Hayden had been conducting his own little research while fighting in the background. A great sense of fear washed over the doctor. This Chaos energy had too many similarities to Argent energy. He had already imagined the process of such a thing came to be. A process that he would never allow being repeated like in Nekravol. And thanks to his extensive work and development with the Crucible as a conductor, Earth no longer needed to use the insidious sources that corrupted Urdak and the Maykrs through synthetic Argent. Or as many within his faculty would like to dub: Neo-Argent.

Still, the fact that these daemons have long since been split apart from the great body of Hell painted a very big picture. The question is: why had this "Chaos" not been seen amongst the legions of Hell? Sacred texts and unburied codices from Argent D'Nur showed no passages of their appearance. It's as if they had simply never existed. Or worse, they did... but the relations between Chaos and Hell had long since been abandoned.

It appears time has passed much drastically since his inception to Earth. Time will tell if Hell and Chaos will have any ever reunite. Or destroy one another.

"Hayden? Do you hearme?"Hayden's thoughts were interrupted as Alith radioed in his earpiece.

"Yes, Alith? How may I be of service?"

"Preparations are soon complete. How goes the bay sweep?"

Hayden observed through the Slayer's helm just as a marauder found himself pleading for mercy before Doom Slayer drove an axe straight into the centre of his face before being pulled out, leaving behind a split head wound.

"Currently, a festivity for the Slayer,"Hayden stated. The remark made Doom Slayer smirk before hefting the axe and decapitating a rabid berserker hurling himself towards him.

"But in great spirits, the invasion is being routed as we speak. We'll possibly be finished. Faster probably if the elves manage to keep. Despite the current company, that is."

Alith understood and sympathized.

"Still, Hayden, once this is done, we'll be back to our usual business. I'd rather not spend too much time here in this Khaine-forsaken land. Alas, be prepared to leave. And get rid of those barbarians as fast as possible. I'd rather not be living with a den of wolves any longer."

"Copy that."

Hayden cut off the transmission just as Doom Slayer punched his wrist blade through the helmet of a Chaos champion. Disconnected, Alith returned to overseeing the preparation. Observe from afar, he scanned around before locking eyes with the Crone. The woman returned a withering look. Alith simply stared coldly in kind before drifting off elsewhere. For him, it was a surprise alliance but a very short-lived one. Only the timing of when the broken truce will happen mattered more. Alith drifted elsewhere to work with his own kin.

As she watched the Shadow King vanish from her sight, cold contempt gripped her heart. She was regretting the pact already. The fact that they saved her entire city means next to nothing since they were Asur. Getting rid of them would have been her top priority were it not for the presence of the brute known as Doom Slayer. The moment she felt the dread growing from him, bets were off she would never be alive was it not for her quick thinking and proposal for a ceasefire between the two. She was certain that she did not show fear as soon as she saw the giant immediately backed off. Although part of it was out of respect for saving her, the truce would cease sometime before the ruse was finally in shambles. And she needed to be a step ahead of the giant and that conniving asur bastard known as Alith Anar.

The Crone walked away to rid her eyes of that blighted prince. A detachment druchii took notice of her and made way for their queen. The woman gave them every bit of scorn and malice whilst they looked down to avoid locking eyes with her. The group departed after and resumed their duty whilst Hellebron made her towards an alley.

The narrow path had long since been unused and abandoned even before the siege. Rarely had it been populated with any sort of life save for scheming nobles, assassins, and vagrants; the latter of which Hellebron made sure was taken care of.

Now, though, the alley was vacant with two figures. The crone herself. And a khainite assassin.

The shadowy figure approached from the darkness. Hellebron was weary of the figure, placing a hand on the pommel of her sword.

"Halt." She called out. The assassin stopped immediately. The Crone relaxed slightly as she noticed the slight shudder and apprehension in his body language. He was no Shadowblade for sure. If it was, his posture would've been courteous and unflinching.

"Step forward." She commanded again. The assassin eased himself but cautiously moved forward; kneeling before the slender figure of the High Priestess.

"Mistress." He spoke.

"Rise, servant of Khaine. I will not have you wasting time prostrating yourself before me. What can you tell me of the rogue Shadowblade?"

"Nowhere, I'm afraid." Answered the assassin. "We have searched far and wide, my lady. It appears Shadowblade has escaped during the chaos. No trace of him is left in this city. He... might be out of our reach."

A low growl escaped from Hellebron's throat. A single drop of sweat rolled down the assassin's forehead, which thankfully was obscured by his hood. Still, the sound of displeasure was enough to raise his anxiety a bit.

"Damn fiend." She cursed to herself, looking back to the assassin. "You have served enough. Moving on, what can you tell me about this...'Doom Slayer' that the Asur have brought with them?"

The assassin looked nervously at the Crone, carefully choosing the words to not invoke her wrath. "If I may speak... freely. The man you speak of is... how shall I put it... a monster. A terrifying beast clad in iron. I have witnessed briefly his power against the invaders and those few moments were enough for my eyes. The fury of our witches was nothing compared to his might. He fights with weapons, not unlike the muskets those humans wield in the Old World. Yet they spew unlimited fire and hate upon the flesh of our enemies. It is as if our Lord had been given mortal form and used all of his power to batter down the forces of Chaos. I have even heard rumours amongst our kin that perhaps heisindeed Khaine himself."

Hellebron's eye twitched at the blasphemous statement. Her temper had been fuming like a tea kettle above a fire. The assassin bit his tongue and realized he might have spilled too much. The crone slowly raised a hand towards the hooded elf. The assassin preemptively anticipated his death before the hand landed towards his shoulders.

"You have... done well." She vaguely praised. "I have had enough news for this day."

The assassin felt relieved before Hellebron closed in towards his ear and whispered, "You will find the ones who are spreading ill of Khaine. Bring me their tongues and the ears of those who believe in them. All shall know better to speak such slander."

Hellebron let go after, pulling herself to see the shock in his eyes. The assassin's eyes spoke of fright and worry at the command.

"You can keep yours intact." She corrected. The assassin was relieved to hear and bowed to her, before hurrying into the shadows at her behest. Hellebron walked away from the alley. She thought of killing the messenger but he would do better to collect what was requested of her. Besides, an assassin was an invaluable asset to her regime. Hellebron made her way before the gates. The eyes of her many sisters and executioners laid her way. Fear and respect emanated from them, for Hellebron basked in that glory. Not Malekith. Nor that whor*-mother of his. Morathi.

Her hate boiled and simmered within her for that bitch. She could not forgive the woman for all the humiliating times she had to undergo. Her youth, especially, was the final brand of Morathi's plights. She could feel her beauty fading every single moment. No matter how many sacrifices were spilled to fill the blood cauldrons, the passages of time would reduce her beauty within days. Less even. She could feel the wrinkles creeping up under her mask. The others have thankfully not noticed but she needed to hurry. She spilled enough for at least a week, possibly. More than excessive even on the yearly Death Night.

The other elves thankfully gave her plenty of space to avoid being at the sharp end of her blades. The walk towards the gates had been mercifully short. Magnificent as they were, the sight was made repulsive as she spotted Alith with his small army preparing the journey. Herds of horses had gathered amongst this journey; each owned by the Asur. Hellebron begrudgingly admitted that they were beautiful the moment they graced her city. They were more magnificent than her people's flesh-eating and highly temperamental steeds.

A lieutenant of his spotted her and beckoned him to turn. The Shadow King was not at all pleased to see her again.

"Hellebron." He curtly greeted. "What has spurred you to come approaching me? I thought your ilk disliked approaching an Asur without the urge to murder us."

"Don't get wise on me, prince!" Snapped Hellebron. "I may have been lenient but that does not mean you may be off so easily. I am only letting you this one chance not only because your sellsword saved me but I also want payback from Malekith."

"Of course. I'm sure that doesn't conflict with our actual purpose." Alith sarcastically said, rolling his eyes.

"If your 'mission' doesn't pan out, then we'll takemyapproach."

"I've already counted on that. Though, I expect the Slayer to be a much better chap." Alith replied.

"Yes. Yoursellsword, as I've heard." Hellebron reluctantly agreed. "What was his name? Hayden, was it? He is... impressive."

Alith co*cked an eyebrow by her 'praises'. "I didn't exactly need your approval but you can tell him yourself."

Alith looked off to the distance and smirked as he noticed his armoured friend reappear. "Speak of the devil."

Hellebron turned to see the Slayer approach, drenched in gore. The cold winds of Naggaroth appeared to have dried the blood on his armor quickly. He did not at all appeared phased by the blood staining it. In fact, seemed rather at peace, she thought. The cold, blank stare greeted them before a booming voice broke the silence.

"The invaders have fled."Hayden announced."They won't be coming anytime soon."

"Delighted to hear, Slayer." Praised Alith. "Now let's start packing things quicker now. This invasion was a lot more difficult than I had expected."

Doom Slayer nodded and walked alongside the Nagarythe prince. Hellebron, however, wasn't done.

"Halt!" She ordered, causing the two to stop and turn.

"I am not quite done here." She said. "I would like something returned to me. From you, Slayer."

Doom Slayer stared blankly back at the Crone Queen. His brow lowered, none at all interested in what she had to say.

"The sword." She demanded. "I would like it returned. It is a symbol of my executioners, my city, and my rule. And I would not have it be parted so easily. Lest you renege on our pact."

Hellebron's seeming demand aroused tension again. There was no hiding behind minced words. There was a clear message. A threat. Silence was but a fleeting moment between the three. Alith was well-prepared for another throwdown and Hellebron was ready to return the favour. Doom Slayer was smouldering under his helmet. This bitch was getting on his nerves. He stood there, contemplating the thought of killing and moving. Few seconds of intense dread-induced staring later, Doom Slayer simply shrugged and let the whole thing slide. Any other moment would've had him placing the barrel of his shotgun into her head. But a sword? Easy enough to agree to.

The sword appeared in his hands and returned it much to the two's surprise. Hellebron, especially, was stunned at the gesture and immediately backpedalled on her words. But before she could unhand him, Doom Slayer slightly took his helmet off. Just enough to for his jaw exposed. Before spitting on the handle and dropping it to the floor in front of the crone. Hellebron was in umbrage at the blatant defilement but the roaring dread inspired by him made her grit her teeth and bite back her exploding temper. Alith was worried, amused, and relieved in a mix of emotions as he witnessed the Slayer's boldness and Hellebron's eye twitch with odd restraint.

"I...will let this slide...further." Hellebron admitted. "But that will be thelastoffence you will make in my presence."

Doom Slayer visibly smirked before putting his helmet back on. Hellebron called in a servant of hers to come forth and take the blade from the ground. The witch subordinate hid her disgust well as she touched the mucus on the blade handle, likely to avoid being in Hellebron's wrath. The weapon was carried off after.

"Well since that is settled, perhaps we should be moving on and-" Alith was interrupted by a loud hissing screech as a couple of beastmasters reined some of their mounts from the stables. A cold one - noticeably larger than its brethren - let itself loose from its harness and began thrashing; attacking its cruel masters. Dreadspears surrounded the reptilian mount as it snarled and bared tooth and claw.

Hellebron grew angry and yelled, "Get that beast under control! Kill it if you must!"

The druchii obeyed and thrust their spears toward the bipedal reptile, backing it into a corner. Alith and Hellebron were content to ignore but Doom Slayer quickly walked over to the mount. He shoved one of the dreadspears aside as he got closer and became the center of attention. The cold one registered Doom Slayer's appearance and snarled at him. Doom Slayer remained unmoved and unphased by the creature's defensive nature and simply stared it down. Eye contact was maintained between the two, completely uninterrupted. None of the dreadspears deigned to move, keeping their spears aimed towards the reptile. Hellebron and Alith watched curiously as Doom Slayer cast his shadow over the cold one. The mount looked upon him, intimidated by Doom Slayer despite having no weapons on him. His instincts urged him to attack yet something else told it to hold in its primal urges. Such an attack would bring its demise, it thought. Its hesitance signalled weakness. And its masters saw that as proof of submission.

Not long after, the nauglir made a low hiss similar to a whine; bowing its head in defeat. Doom Slayer relaxed and approached the cold one. His hand cascaded over its hide, more out of respect than fear and pain, before mounting on top of it. The sight of Doom Slayer riding on top of the nauglir inspired shock and awe. The two leaders of their respective companies - Hellebron and Alith - watched on in surprise at the Slayer's handling.

"Your sellsword... certainly has a way of using language." Hellebron admitted. "With or without words."

"Indeed." Agreed Alith.

Hours later, outside of Har Ganeth...

The gates to Har Ganeth opened up again and out came the pointy ears. The red beady eyes stared hatefully at the elves that poured out from the safety of their stinking walls. Krikzuz's saw hundreds of riders venturing off to the east. More likely to head to another one of the fortresses there. He remembered seeing the spiky boys from the North came crashing down like an avalanche at those damn elves. He began to smile sad*stically at the thought of revenge; his crooked teeth exposed to the harsh cold.

"Looks like dem pointy earz are on da move." Krikzuz observed. "Means me and da boyz should make good work of 'em. Sum good ol' payback for giving us 'em whiplash."

The goblin warboss got up from his snow hovel and marched towards his mount. A squig of abnormal size. Evolved and bred to the cold lands of Naggaroth. Its natural red skin was replaced with albino qualities to naturally camouflage against it the environment. Its teeth had been replaced with tusks at the underjaw, repurposed to impale and gore its way through prey. It resembled more of a boar than some monstrous seal.

The seal squig looked to its rider and began licking his face affectionately. The goblin was disgusted.

"Oi! Quit slobbering me! Save that for 'em pointy earz!" Krukziz protested. "Looks like meats back on the menu for you!"

The goblin rode on top of the squig and hurried to his clan. The elves would rue the day they made slaves out of the Broken Chainz Clan. And they will soon taste the whip that they were so fond of.*

World's Edge Mountains...

"Finally! I can't wait to see the mountains!" Aliathra said cheerfully as she looked outside of her carriage. The mighty mountain homes of the dwarfs were within her sight and she was eager to learn the history and culture of the Dawi. Accompanying her was not just the Asur from back home, but the dwarfen emissaries sent by High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer.

From the Asur numbers, three hundred and fifty of the Lothern Sea Guard, one hundred Sisters of Averlorn, sixty of the Handmaidens of the Everqueen - handpicked by Alarielle herself -, twenty swordmasters and six mages of Hoeth accompanied the Everchild.

And from the Dawi numbers; six hundred Ironbreakers and Irondrakes, three hundred Quarellers, two hundred Thunderers, one hundred Gyrocopters and Gyrobombers, and fifty Rangers joined the elves as requested by Thorgrim. The dwarf numbers were quite... an eyesore for the elves. But for Aliathra, it was a majestic sight to behold.

Before, the relationship between the two races had always been bitter since the War of Vengeance until now. Aliathra had an odd fascination with the short but stout mountain-folk, much to her family's dismay. Of course, the same could be said for the Dawi but the High King was eager to hear her interests as well. This was the first sign of restoring the relations between the two and a way to end historical grievances.

A dwarf - gruff with a graying beard and receding hair - glanced at her with a grandfatherly smile just outside her window.

"Nay lass." Corrected the dwarf, who Aliathra came to know as Traudin Stonebrow by his name. "We're far from arriving sooner. But I can assure you that once we get there, the halls of Karaz-a-Karak will be filled with my fellow Dawi welcoming you! Most especially the High King! That I can assure you!"

The way the gruff dwarf said with pride emitted a glowing smile to Aliathra's lips. Traudin was one of the many dawi entrusted by Thorgrim to personally escort her. He was a Longbeard. Oldest dwarfs even amongst their kin. And his beard was proof of that. So long in length that it was braided in complex knots to avoid tripping, in and out of battle. Traudin, however, was unlike his dour equivalents for he was jolly and quite a storyteller. Aliathra could never get enough of the stories he spoke as they rode along. Her personal guards looked at him in disapproval, but Aliathra handwaved them and told them to relax.

The Everchild sat back in the safety of her carriage. Two handmaidens sat across her but carefully watched their surroundings; their eyes and ears ever vigilant. Aliathra rolled her by their tight security.

"You know you two could just relax? We already have several guards on patrol outside." She bemoaned.

"Even with them outside, your safety is our top priority." One of them responded. "And both the Everqueen and Prince Tyrion have requested of us to keep you within our protection."

"Right..." Aliathra muttered. She could never forget the cold deathly stare her mother had given her. The Everqueen never raised her voice when angered, which was terrifying as it was for the Child. Aliathra slumped back at her cushy seat, looking out to watch the scenery with each travel.

"I wonder what Doom Slayer's doing..."She pondered."I hope his quest is doing well. He probably found his Doom by now... wait. He's human! He can't be a slayer of dwarfen origins! And why hunt down 'Doom' for that reason?"

The man was still an enigma and curiosity for her. Even after all that tea-time conversation, there were a lot more questions than answers. After that, she overheard the conversation about the raid the day after. Her impulsive curiosity got the better of her and she snuck into the destroyed village that morning. It got her nowhere and she was caught by the Slayer. Although, she did make a mental note to never cross him again. There was... a sense of dread around him. It came to the point where she choked the air, however brief it was.

"Just what are you, Slayer?"She wondered, placing a curled finger against her lip.

"Lady Aliathra?"

"Hmm?" Aliathra responded by a Handmaiden calling her, breaking her thoughts.

"Are you alright? You seemed troubled." She asked the Everchild.

"I'm alright." Aliathra brushed off. "Just going through some introspection. Nothing really."

"If you insist, Everchild." The maiden said, face still stoic. "If you're not feeling well, we can always stop. Just give the word at any time."

"I will," Aliathra answered, before viewing the scene outside. Althena rattled in her cage, causing the Everchild to look upon her.

"What's wrong, Althie?" She said pulling out the rabbit from her cage, cradling Althena in her arms and rubbing her back to calm her down. "You seem excited, aren't you? Don't worry, you'll settle in our new home quite well."

As Aliathra gushed for her rabbit, one of the Handmaidens couldn't help but smile at the loving adoration for the small pet.

The carriage stopped in its tracks abruptly, however, much to Aliathra's surprise. Curiosity and concern bloomed in her mind. The Handmaidens as well shared her concerns, though they were far more alert and readied their weapons. Aliathra peeked outside and called out for the dwarf next to her.

"Traudin? Is everything alright?" She asked.

"It's probably nothing, lass." Traudin assured her. "Just a minor occurrence at the front, mayhaps. Probably some grobi nearby. Be back in one moment."

The dwarf marched towards the front to investigate. Aliathra looked to where the dwarf sat back tightly, leaving the profession to the guards and dwarfs. If anything, she was well-protected in her spot. The Everchild placed her rabbit back in her cage for safekeeping. Seconds passed, with no word from the dwarfs. The natural sounds outside were unnervingly silent. Not a sound of birds singing even. One of the handmaidens eventually stood up and made her way outside of the carriage.

"Atara, stay with the Everchild. I will inquire about this abrupt stop. I pray that the dwarfs aren't up to something..." The handmaiden ordered.

"Take care, Avarla." The other maiden said. The door closed after, leaving the Everchild and the maiden to themselves. Aliathra placed Althena back in her cage for safety before twirling her hair around her fingers to distract herself. In her heart, she felt a pang of anxiety slowly filling her. Atara could see the worried look on her ward's face and did her best to calm her.

Hell - Disturbed

"Do not worry yourself, Everchild." Atara reassured. "We are here with you for a reason. I will not let anyone come near you while I still stand."

"R-right." Aliathra spoke in a worried tone. Seconds turned into minutes before a sound broke the silence.

A scream. Followed by another. Then came the sound of steel being unsheathed, followed by fighting. Yet, none stood out more than an inhuman roar. Aliathra's anxiety and turned to panic as the carriage rocked and swayed violently. Atara placed an arm against her chest and pulled out her blade.

"Stay with me!" Atara told her, even as the battle outside raged on. Suddenly, the door to the carriage opened wide to reveal a horrifying creature. It crouched on its hind legs yet there was no mistake of its stance. Its hide was brown with spikes protruding its back. Its red eyes glowed with malevolence as the creature stared at the two; teeth revealed in a sad*stic permanent grin. The thing stared at the two hungrily, before fixating its eyes on its newfound target.

The Everchild.

(0:29)

The creature made a low hiss before it pounced towards the two. Atara was ready to strike before someone pulled the abomination aside. Traudin appeared and wrestled it to the ground and driving his axe into its head. The thing went limp as its skull was caved in. Traudin wrenched his axe and stared at the two. His eyes were bloodshot and his armour was covered in blood; his expressions that of horror.

"Come on, Elgi! It's not safe in there!" Traudin yelled out, reaching out his hand. Aliathra was the first and grabbed it before being pulled out followed by Atara.

Aliathra stopped and turned back. "Wait! My rabbit!"

Atara looked back but was too late as the carriage was flipped over. The one responsible was revealed to be some uglier and larger version of a squig; snarling and squealing like some daemonic boar. Aliathra screamed for her beloved pet, causing the pig-like beast to turn its attention to her.

It bull-rushed towards her but found itself in the sharp end of Atara's spear as she thrust it into its gnarly mouth. The spear tip exited through its back; the pig daemon struggling with a wet gurgling noise before succumbing to its wounds.

Aliathra voiced her distress, tears running down her face. "Althena!"

"There is no time, my Lady!" Voiced Atara. "It's not safe here!"

Atara guided the Everchild alongside the Longbeard. As Aliathra gathered herself, she now took in the horrible scene of battle before. Swarms of the gangly daemons appeared and attacked the guards. Ironbreakers remained stalwart and resolute as they braced the furious slashes and bites while hefting their axes and spewing alchemical from their Drakeguns against the monstrous torrent while Thunderers and Quarellers shot in volleys behind their Gromril-armored brethren. Above, Gyrocopters shot from above and hit with heavy ordnance as Aliathra witnessed explosions. The small humanoid creatures took to firing at the skies; some landing direct hits at the gyrocopters.

On the Asur's side, the Handmaidens appeared and stood closely to Aliathra's side, while the Lothern Sea Guard and Averlorn Sisters made their stand; defending the Everchild in a shield wall and mystical bolts. Mages bombarded the creatures with Aqshy, Hysh and High Magic while the swordmasters gracefully shielded them with masterful strokes of their infamous swords. The monsters were scorched and decimated by the Winds of Magic.

Initially, it seemed as if the creatures were no different from the greenskins or the beastmen from what she had been taught during her tutelage. Their tactics were nothing more than swarming in with numbers. Yet, the combined efforts of the two ancient races proved themselves to be formidable despite overwhelming odds.

"Protect the Everchild!" Atara called out to her sisters and brothers. "She must reach the stronghold!"

The Asur fought fiercely with blade and magic. Traudin, likewise, roared his own in Khazalid.

"Avenge every kinsmen with twenty more of these wazzocks! For each of them is a grudge settled by Grimnir's Axe!"

"Khazukan Kazakit-HA!" Roared the dwarfs. Fought, the elves and dwarfs bravely did.

Yet the worse had come in new forms of the unknown monsters. More of the pig daemons appeared and charged through the Ironbreakers with shocking ease. Gromril was a powerful metal and used by the most hardened dwarfen veterans. And to see the legendary dwarfen warriors thrown about like fragile glass shattered her hopes of survival. Soon, other new monstrosities appeared. Hulking, skull-headed beasts charged in and crushed any downed dwarf or elf under their mighty feet. Their appearance gave off the impression of undead creatures from a place called Sylvania from Stonebrow's accounts. Another type of monster came in the form of ogres with cannons mounted - no, grafted she witnessed - onto their forearms and blasted away at the dwarfs. Their fireballs scorched and blasted through their dwarf lines.

The Dawi defenders were losing further numbers, even as dwarfen artillery and asur magic was blasted into the swarm. Suddenly, more gyrocopters were being fired with heavy assault by gangly skeletal creatures launching with cannons on their backs and cyclopean horrors floated and threw skulls from its mouth. Aliathra even witnessed that they were flying towards the gyrocopters and throwing out the pilots. Some were even being torn apart in mid-air; bloody chunks falling into dwarfen casualties.

Aliathra and her company made their way out. Aliathra accidentally fumbled to the floor. She briefly looked and witnessed a horse being grabbed by one of the skull monsters. The creature tore through the equine's underbelly through the flesh with its teeth.

Aliathra screamed but Atara simply covered her eyes. Yet, even she was not immune to the horse's brutal death. The beast looked up, gore still drenching its mouth, and spotted the elves. Traudin stood firm and hefted the axe to swing it in the direction of the charging monster. The axe landed against the skull of it but the beast was unaffected. Traudin struggled as it tried to free itself, thrashing its head around to wrestle the axehead off. A spearhead thrust aimed at the eye ceased its rampage, ending its existence at the hands of the handmaiden. Atara let go of her spear, the tip too deep past the socket to pull out, and pulled out her sword from her side. Traudin wrestled the axe out and turned to Atara with a nod of respect.

"Come on, Elgi! This way!" Traudin yelled. The elves, seeing no other choice, followed him. Aliathra's head was held down to avoid projectiles. Her ears were invaded by the sound of explosions and inhuman screams. The brown creatures were tearing through the elven and dwarfen ranks with tooth and claw. There was only pure malice in their slaughter. Some of Aliathra's guards were jumped and mutilated but the rest fought with increased ferocity and determination. Traudin and his remaining kin acted in wedge formation, while the elves encircled the Everchild.

Soon, a pack of the hunched daemons jumped and came running towards the retreating force. A blurry flash of blue stopped their pursuit, however, and the daemons found themselves severed and sliced away into pieces. The figure turned and revealed herself to be Avala. The maiden approached quickly and helped Aliathra up.

By Isha, you are both alright!" Spoke Avala. Atara caught up and inquired of the situation.

"Avala! What manner of these creatures are they?!"

"I do not know! But I know they are certainly creatures of Chaos!"Avala answered. "We must evacuate Aliathra immediately!"

"The mages could teleport us! Perhaps we can-" Avala raised her hand and stopped her sister from speaking.

"I'm afraid that option is off the table." Avala interrupted. "Something in the air is interfering with our other means of transport. We are disconnected. Running is our only option."

Atara was ready to protest but the howls grew louder and closer.

"Get Aliathra out of here! I will hold them off with the rest of the Sea Guard and Sisters!"

Atara silently nodded and whisked Aliathra away. Avala turned back and pulled out her enchanted bow. She grabbed a handful of arrows and rapidly shot them into the incoming monsters. Each shot exploded as the bolts landed upon their targets with fatal results, killing three times as within the blast radius.

Atara gathered the remaining elves that were alive. The Sea Guard and half of the Sisters stayed behind willingly to hold off. One mage and six swordmasters joined while the others joined the resistance. And only twenty-six of the handmaidens had survived among their numbers. Atara grimaced at the lives lost in this ambush, but was unyielding and focused on the Everchild's safety.

Traudin called onto his kin as well. Only fifteen rangers, twelve ironbreakers, eight irondrakes, seven quarellers, and twenty thunderers had answered his call. The rest volunteered to stay behind to fight against the tide. Traudin was ready to order them to leave while he stayed but another Longbeard stopped him.

"No, Traudin! We'll handle this! You get the elgi to our High King! And avenge us with a great grudge!"

Traudin opened his mouth but no word came out. He struggled between duty and kin, but his brother-in-arms pushed him towards his oath. Traudin looked to his regiment and lead them alongside the elves.

Aliathra's personal guard - what remained at least - ran down to the ravine. Beyond it was a forested area. The group ran for it and took cover in the thick greenery, retreating into the darkness. Avala turned towards the abominable horde. New creatures came in the form of gargoyle-like creatures. Hunched down and armed with blades at their forearms, they made low hisses and spread their diminutive wings before pouncing. Atara simply planted her spear to the ground before pulling out her bow. She readied her aim and released the arrow to the closest gargoyle in silent fury while the Longbeard gripped his battleaxe and bellowed out a warcry,

Moments later...

The pine trees and grove were thick enough to camouflage their clothing for a brief time. The survivors ran further and further, the terrible screams and cries growing distant. Aliathra felt her legs burning from the running, yet the adrenaline and terror had her ignoring the pain. Her guards helped her keep up, ensuring her safety above all.

The dwarfs were at the front, guiding the asur through the forest. A ranger scouted ahead, having been one of the few remaining to survive the onslaught. The survivors found no rest in the escape. The daemons were in pursuit of them, their monstrous howls and roars echoed the forest from behind. Artillery from both races took shots from behind, diverting the monsters from following with arrows and muskets. The creatures threw back fireballs and spit acid in return. Few of them were hit by the deadly projectiles. Those that did were dead from a direct hit or left screaming before being killed with tooth and claw.

The screams spurred Aliathra to run further. Atara stuck closely to her while the sound of mages summoning Aqshy and Hysh and burned the path behind them. A skull daemon leapt from the fires and pounced on one of the mages, tearing her head and spine from her body effortlessly. Two swordmasters clashed with the hulking daemon and rend its flesh and bones with ease. The duo was soon swarmed by lesser daemons, one being torn to shred while the other fought with valor before succumbing to the onslaught. Irondrakes slowed down and shot their Drakeguns against the tide. Ironbreakers stood with their hammers and axes and crushed any that managed to jump over the defences.

The survivors continued their way downhill. Traudin's voice could be heard from the front, urging the rest to follow.

During the chase, Aliathra saw something in the corner of her eye. A flash of purple light but she could not identify the origins of it. Not a moment too soon, a ranger running in front of them was grabbed by a blur. His head was flattened against a tree. The perpetrator revealed itself as something similar to the brown daemons albeit with a purple color scheme. Its three eyes clustered in a crude triangular shape against a black dome on its forehead. The thing looked back at the elves and chased after them.

"Get down!" Cried Atara. Aliathra ducked while the handmaiden prepared her bow. The gangly daemon leapt and prepared to attack before it vanished from Atara's sight. The handmaiden was briefly surprised before intuition kicked in and spun back to jab the arrow into the reappearing daemon. The arrow exploded with magic inside its skull, showering the Everchild in gore. Aliathra hyperventilated and shuddered from the havoc. What was to be a safe journey became a living nightmare.

"I am so sorry, my lady!" Atara apologized as she pulled up Aliathra. "But we have to keep moving now! I promise that no harm will be done to you while I still stand!"

Aliathra nodded frantically before running again. Muskets and magic exploded around the forest like a cacophony of fireworks. The trees were set ablaze to defer the creatures from going further, only to do nothing. Traudin continued leading what's left of the survivors. Numbers continued to dwindle further as more of the beasts caught up to them. The screams of both Asur and Dawi deafened the once silent forest, terrifying the others.

Traudin looked back and saw Atara and Aliathra behind him. And behind them, a multitude of daemons closing in on the two. Traudin stopped in his tracks and lobbed a hatchet from his belt to throw at one of the daemons. A scream was heard as one landed at the head of his target. Atara and Aliathra looked behind briefly at the Longbeard.

"Traudin!"

"Go now, lasses! Follow my kin! I will hold the line!" Traudin argued. Aliathra wanted to protest but Atara pulled her away. Aliathra's last glimpse of Traudin was him swinging away at the swarm before he was surrounded, screaming to his ancestors and with foul words in his native tongue. The survivors continued running forth until light could be seen further into the distance. They ran and ran until they finally entered the grass plains. Aliathra could see who was ahead of them.

Less than half of her guard managed to survive the escape. The elves were few and the dwarfs even fewer. Not enough to even hold off this massive swarm. The chase was non-stop for them. No rest in sight. Aliathra ran out of breath and stopped briefly. She was ragged and almost prepared to heave her stomach's contents. Atara grabbed her arm to keep moving.

"My lady! Please, we can't stop! We must keep moving!" Cried Atara. Her voice, however, betrayed the desperation she was now showing.

Aliathra panicked and cried. "I want to go home...!"

"And I will make sure that you will!" Atara added. Both elves kept their pace despite their haggardness. The survivors trek through the grass fields until their escape came to an abrupt end.

A great wall of purple fire encircled them. Trapping what little there was of Everchild's personal guard. An Ironbreaker tried to run through the flames but was engulfed by it. The gromril plates did nothing as the dwarf screamed in unending agony. His armor melted into his skin while his flesh roasted and burned away. Aliathra covered her ears to tune out the horrifying sounds. The group stood their ground, encircling Aliathra with their blade, magic and armor. Aliathra held tightly to Atara's waist, while the guards eyed closely at the fire, cautious of the next attack.

"Aliathra, please... stay close to me..." Atara calmly told the Everchild.

Icon of Sin - Doom Eternal OST (start at 1:03)

Suddenly, a path opened in the midst of the fires. In came a being shrouded in an obscuring dark cloak with purple accents. He stood abnormally tall. Too tall even to an elf. His posture was that of superiority over those he considered inferior. His features under his hood, save for the burning violet eyes that glowed furiously under the darkness. Even with the shroud obscuring his identity, there was no denying the raw dark magic emanating from him. The elves could sense and dread the power within.

"Excuse the sudden appearance."He spoke, his voice droning like a sound of locust. Ancient and malevolent."This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I planned for a 'welcoming committee'. However, circ*mstances for the past few days have hastened preparations."

Extending under his heavy sleeves revealed a huge, three-clawed hand. His finger raised directly at the target he was looking for. Aliathra.

"Hand over the girl."

His demands were greeted with steel, magic and guns aimed at him.

Atara retorted back, "The Everchild stays with us, fiend. Whoever you are, you shall not take her!"

The figure lifted his head a bit. As if in amusem*nt.

"Ah, forgive me. Where are my manners?"The stranger rhetorically spoke. His clawed hands reached toward his hood, pulling them down to reveal a head Aliathra could only describe as a skull warped from dark and hellish magic. Crimson colour covered its head His skull pulsated with purple light and protruding spikes to form a ridge over its exposed brain. His mandibles were filled to the brim with long jagged teeth that would not be out of place in a predator. Eyes burned with great evil and cruelty as he looked upon the survivors with contempt.

"Chaos filth!" A dwarf cursed. The figure simply laughed darkly like a goat bleating with its dying breath.

"Not quite."He answered, glowering with its toothy grin."I am Aeligor. Archvile of Immora, Grand Duke of Hell, Commander of sixty legions under my Will, and Heresiarch to the Dark Lord Himself. At your service."

The demon tilted his head forward with a mocked bow before straightening himself."And I am here to collect the girl on behalf of a generous patron."

"Chaos or not..." Atara growled. "You willnottake the Everchild while we still stand, aberration!"

What remained of the Irondrakes, Quarrellers, Thunderers, and Sisters of Averlorn took up arms and aimed their weapons at the demon. Rangers, Ironbreakers, Handmaidens and Swordmasters stood guard while the sole mage prepared his spell. The survivors made their last stand in an act of defiance.

And yet for all their bravery and valour, the elder demon was not so impressed.

"A poor choice of words."He said, bemused."But so be it."

With a raised hand, he summoned forth a terrible being beyond the fires. Heavy footsteps shook the ground with a resounding boom, burning the grass beneath its hooves. It made the warriors quake and almost stumble as the new figure appeared. The beast dwarfed even the Archvile in sheer size and muscles. From top to bottom, its flesh was grey in tone and covered in an obsidian carapace. Red cracks glow visibly against its skin, giving it the appearance of cooled magma. Heat emanated within the demon that not even the runes on the Irondrakes could shield them. Horns protruded from its head like a demonic bull, adding to its already intimidating factor. Its eyes bore through the souls of every single being it made contact with. Hatred consumed it and it let out a horrible low growl.

"The Everchild must be brought unspoiled, Baron. But you may kill the rest."Commanded Aeligor. The Fireborne Baron glanced back at the Archvile with a bestial grin and let out a terrible roar. The surviving knights covered their ears from the horrific sound. Blades made from Hellfire magic extended from its forearms and the Infernal demon charged like a mad bull. Atara pushed Aliathra away and jumped to the side as the demon began to toss and crush through their defences. Ironbreakers and rangers were smashed and thrown about as they met the demon noble head-on. Their gromril was sliced and melted through as the Baron's blades carved through them like parchment. Rangers and swordmasters collided with axe and sword to no avail. One swordmaster was impaled on its horn before another had been grabbed from the leg and flailed him around as a makeshift morning star. Bones cracked and shattered as the swung asur crashed against his brethren and nearby dawi, before being thrown to the ground and squashed violently beneath the demon's hoof soon after. An irondrake doused it in flames but found to his horror that it did nothing to the titanic demon. The demon grabbed him by the waist. The dwarf screamed for ait but the demon bit his head off and spat it into the ground before tossing the body against another. The bolts and bullets of the thunderers and quarellers were useless against the impervious hide.

Averlorn Sisters and handmaidens, on the other hand, shot rains of magic against its tough hide with better results. The sole mage summoned forth Phoenix Fires and blasted against the demon's skin, stripping the flesh further. The Baron's upper left shoulder and arm found themselves stripped of its hide and one horn broken, showing patches of flesh exposed. Though, it was less flesh and more like molten lava that poured out from its wounds. The Hell Noble, initially perceiving itself as invincible, grew enraged at the wounds it received. It crossed both arms and unleashed a wave of Hellfire towards the archers and gunners. Few jumped back as the Hellfire energy tore through the lines and vivisected through their bodies. The baron quickly grabbed the closest sister and clamped down her waist with its teeth. The woman shrieked as her organs were not only being ripped apart but cooked against the demon's heated breath. Her suffering ended as the Baron ripped her in half by her limbs. He threw both waist and chest to the nearest targets before gleefully continuing its senseless butchering.

Aliathra watched helplessly and screamed as the monster slaughtered her guards, too paralyzed to move or do anything. Suddenly a dome of dark magic shielded her from the Baron's carnage. Seeing this, Aliathra stood up and slammed her fists against the shield, desperately calling for help. Atara looked up and saw the carnage unfold. So few of her sisters and brothers were left standing as did the dawi as they tried desperately to kill the creature, before turning to see Aliathra trapped in the spell dome.

The sole mage took notice as well and tried to dispel but was consumed by purple fire. Aeligor had eyed the mage from the start and burnt him to the crisp without remorse. Atara looked to the Archvile and pulled out her bow. She knew he was the one responsible for this trap and readied herself. She nocked the magical arrow and let it loose towards the sorcerer. The magic arrow reached him but was stopped by a third arm completely unknown to her. He stared at the perpetrator and wiggled at claw at her in mocking disapproval; clicking his tongue to accentuate it.

Frustrated at her efforts being foiled, Atara decided to get physical and pulled out her short sword and approached him. Suddenly, a shadow eclipsed her. Atara looked up to see the Hell Noble jumping before with the intent to crush her with his meaty fists. In those split seconds of survival, her legs moved and jumped forward on their own, avoiding her a costly death. She rolled away after as the demon's blade sank into the soil from where she would have been impaled. Soil flew into the air as the Baron continued its assault at the handmaiden. So close to its blade that it singed her hair and skin. Atara knew that her blade would do nothing compared to the Hell Baron's, but damned if she was going to submit to the demon's demands.

She ducked underneath the demon's legs, confusing it temporarily to have it be blinded by the last of her sisters' bows and dawi guns. The demon lobbed a fireball at the last surviving sisters, exploding upon impact and killing them. The dawi were of hardened build but even they were remotely able to do much. The last two swordmasters, another Averlorn sister, and a couple of rangers joined Atara in a futile bid to end the battle.

The baron's eyes gleamed with pure predatorial delight in killing the last resistance for the Archvile. However, a flicker of light caught one of its eyes before it painfully struck its eye. The demon screamed and clutched onto its eye while the survivors and Aeligor looked in surprise before someone jumped from the flames.

"WAZZOCK!" Cried the dwarf. "I AIN'T DONE WITH YOU YET! I STILL HAVE A TALLY TO COUNT WITH YOUR NAME ON IT! ON GRIMNIR'S AXE!"

Aliathra felt a surge of hope as she recognized the dwarf to be none other than Traudin Stonebrow. His gromril armour had been scratched and carved to the point of near destruction while his face had been mangled by the countless imps that ambushed him. One side of his face had been burned by gargoyle acid, with an eye missing from its socket as well. Yet his remaining eye showed great wrath and fury at the monsters responsible for the attack while tearfully look at the bodies of both his kin and the elves.

He let out a terrible battle cry and hurled himself at the Baron. The demon snarled but was thrown to the ground with a rage-fuelled dwarf pummelling with fists so hard that Grimnir would be proud to behold. Traudin unleashed all of his anger on the downed demon, knocking out some of its teeth. The demon stood up quickly and tried to throw the dwarf off only to be grabbed by the horns and be beaten continuously by the angry dwarf. The demon thrashed around and flung its blades wildly to kill Traudin. Atara and the others jumped out of the way and avoided the clumsy blows.

Aeligor grew frustrated with the Baron's incompetence."Fool! Be done with the damn midget already!"

Atara snapped her attention and focused on the archvile. She raised her sword and yelled, "Kill the sorcerer! Ending his life will banish the daemon!"

Alerted by this, the archvile groaned as the handmaiden lead the remaining soldiers to her.

"Fine."He bemoaned."I will parley with you."

The Archvile brought forth an extra pair of arms and ignited his clothing. Aliathra watched the fire consumed the cloth until all that remained was the gauntly powerful build of the Heresiarch much to the horror of everyone. His body possessed power in its deeply twisted parody of a skeletal body. The ridges on his forehead and back shot out with large spikes growing out. His clawed hands extended while the lower arms conjured Hellfire blades. Behind him, a prehensile tail tipped with a blade at the end of it whisked around, ready to kill. The elder demon pounced and engaged with Atara and her allies.

The swordmasters and rangers hew their greatswords and axes with all of their experience and training yet the archvile parried and deflected with abnormal grace. He fought like a whirlwind with Death as his chosen partner. Claws caught and slashed through the chest of a swordmaster, disembowelling him before his guts were thrown in the face of a ranger, impaled through the skull with an energy blade after. Atara and her sister released their arrows at the demon. Aeligor caught them in one hand, impaling the last ranger with his tail before motioning himself in an arc and throwing their magic back at them. The arrows, now corrupted, formed into javelins of dark energy and sought out their targets. Atara managed to duck in time but her sister was not so lucky. Both javelins impaled through her head and abdomen before exploding in gore. Atara despaired and turned back to see her last ally screaming as Aeligor grabbed his head with lower hands and melted through his helmet with Hell magic. The asur made gurgling noises before dying and being tossed aside, his head now melted with the helmet still on. She looked to the side and saw Traudin still throwing heavy fists down upon the Hell noble until Aeligor shot out a blast of lightning from his hand and shot him into the ground. Black tendrils soon erupted and held the dwarf down, who struggled the overpowering entanglement.

The demon noble gave out a sigh of relief, given rest from the enduring beatdown before growling at his humiliating duel. The baron pulled the axe out of its eye, fireblood pouring out and burning the soil beneath it. The demon stood and prepared to finish off its attacker until Aeligor stopped with a raised hand.

"Stay your hand."Said Aeligor, displeasure seeping through his voice."My disappointment with you is beyond measure. For now, sit."

The baron gave out a whine before it lowered itself to the ground as ordered. The archvile turned his head to the last surviving guard. Despite her allies now dead, Atara still clung to her sword and courage to meet the demon. Aliathra continued desperately banging against her prison, while Traudin screamed at the demons with insults. Tendrils soon covered his mouth to shut him to Aeligor's respite. The archvile towered over the handmaiden with sheer confidence.

"I admire your determination, elf."Aeligor spoke to Atara."But that won't be enough to save your precious Everchild. You can't save her. You couldn't save your own kin. Give up, and your death will be painless."

Atara looked to the dome. Aliathra cried out to her and tearfully pleaded to be saved. Atara was demoralized and diminished. All her allies and kin dead around her, the Everchild beyond her reach, and the elder demon looking down upon her with heartless malice. Yet, with all hope seemingly gone, the Handmaiden made one last resort to deny him the pleasure.

"I will not allow her to be taken from with your vile magic!" She spat, holding her sword in a guard. "I will fight with every will, both body and soul to keep her safe from whatever dark master you serve!"

Aeligor listened to her defiance and silently stretched his arms in the air. Hellfire grew and reached higher against the winds at his command, settling back after as he stared down at Atara one final time.

"Prove. Your. Worth."He goaded.

The handmaiden dashed across the field, striking the elder demon only to be deflected and tossed down to the grass. Atara turned to meet the demon again. Steel flashed in a flurry before his eyes, each repelled and parried by an emotionless Aeligor; almost to the point of boredom.

Aeligor kneed her in the stomach. The spike on his knee did not pierce her flesh but the impact took the wind out of her. His lower hands reanimated and met her face with powerful blows. Atara's were lip busted and her face felt swollen from the punches. The demon's dominant hands rose and slammed down against her shoulders, forcing her down until a kick was thrown in her face again.

The demon sent her flying into the corpse of a swordmaster. The handmaiden was bruised and hurt, her crown fallen from her head, but glimpsed at the greatsword in front of her. Grabbing it as she raised herself again, Atara met the two blades together and aimed it towards the Archvile, who looked on with insulting amusem*nt. Atara leapt again, the two blades clashing against the claws of the Heresiarch. The demon held his lower hands back, refraining himself from using magic to delay her death further. Atara swayed to her left as the tail blade aimed for her waist, all the while slashing at him without success.

Aliathra watched intently, looking for signs of hope. Traudin stared through his one eye while listening to the baron laugh behind him as the archvile played around Atara in her duel.

Atara grew haggard and out of breath while the archvile looked down upon her, unphased by tiredness. She dropped both weapons from her hands, signifying her imminent defeat. Seeing her weak and exposed, Aeligos raised his left claw in the air, bringing it down in full force. In a split second, Atara jumped to his left much to his surprise. She grasped onto the greatsword once more, channelling all of her magic into the blade before twirling and cutting it across his cheek. Shock overcame Aeligor, leaving him exposed to impalement through the waist by Atara. The handmaiden pushed the blade through with every ounce of strength left in her. The archvile let out a death cry as he clutched the sword, before falling onto his knees. Atara felt a surge of victory wash over her as the demon lowered his head to death.

A dark laugh escaped from him instead. Atara's joy turned to despair as the archvile raised his head with a wicked grin. Aeligor grabbed her head with a clawed hand and lifted her up in the air. Atara struggled and beat his hand with her fists to go, all the while he pulled the sword out with both of his lower hands, slowly pulling until it exited the wound where it healed instantaneously.

"All of that flash...for a mere scratch?"He said with faint amusem*nt."Admirable...but pitiful."

A sharp pain ran through Atara by the abdomen while Aliathra screamed in horror as his hell blade pierced through the handmaiden. Traudin wrestled through his restraints, desperately freeing himself to save the girl. Aeligor lowered her to the ground on her two feet.

Lapse - Black Math

"Say your farewells, o noble elf."Aeligor suggested to Atara. The handmaiden slowly turned towards the Everchild. She used what remaining strength left in her and stepped towards Aliathra. She had managed seven steps before falling to the ground. Undeterred, Atara crawled with her bare hands, heaving herself while Aliathra looked on behind her dome with tears running down her cheeks. Aeligor followed behind the crawling elf, with a greatsword still in his grasp. Atara reached out her hand to the Everchild. Aliathra could only press hers against the dome in futility.

"Hope. A pain worse than any wound dealt by a weapon. Be it sword or axe."Aeligor mused."Makes the despair all the more... sweeter."

The archvile's clawed feet pressed gently over Atara's back. She felt the tip of the greatsword slowly push through the skin on her neck. A sense of calm washed over the dying asur, death's door nearing her.

She looked to Aliathra once again. A great loss of innocence was painted all over the Everchild's face. Too many deaths in only a matter of an hour. Aliathra, in turn, saw acceptance in Atara's pained eyes.

"No..." Aliathra pleaded. "Please..."

With her last breath, Atara whispered, "Be brave... Aliathra..."

The greatsword pushed through Atara's neck. The tip exiting on the other side. Aeligor pulled the sword out, blood pouring from the wound. Atara spat and coughed blood, the light in her eyes fading before Aliathra. The Everchild lowered her head and broke down. The energy dome dissipated, releasing her from prison. Yet, Aliathra lost her will to escape. Traudin again struggled, freeing himself to save her. But the tendrils tightened their grip to ensure he could not fulfill his duty.

Aeligor simply stared at the prostrating form of Aliathra. The final piece had been found. And the ritual will begin.

The archvile cast a sleep spell on the girl; her body limping instantly after. The moment after, Aeligor sniffed the air. A faint scent of rot passing over his acute nose.

Soon after, a great shadow loomed and glided over the field. Aeligor looked above to see the rotting form of a zombie dragon slowly landing on the ground. The undead creature's wings folded and its head lowered as the rider let himself off. The being was once a man, now given undeath to his form. A vampire. Of the von Carstein bloodline. His black armor, twisted with dark magic of this world, was instantly recognizable by its wing adornments and horns on the back. Only the vampire's arms had been left exposed. The archvile turned and bowed respectfully to the bald vampire

"Count Mannfred."Aeligor greeted."The final sacrifice has been secured. Arkhan will be pleased to hear of this."

"Good..." Mannfred replied delighted by the news, "Thou hast been successful. I saw the fires from great yonder. Hast thou taken care of ending the threat?"

"Close."Aeligor answered."My scouts are hunting down the last of this little union."

"Excellent. We shall begin thy ritual soon." Mannfred stated, impressed by his guest's resourcefulness. Looking over the demon's shoulder, he witnessed the laying form of Aliathra. There was dried blood on her hair and clothes. The vampire was seemingly annoyed by his honored guest's handling of her.

"Thee hast naught laid a scratch on the maiden, hast thee?"

"I have not, milord."Aeligor denied."I simply put her to sleep. My minion, however, was a little too rough on the others..."

Both sorcerers cast glares on the Hell baron, who in turn grumbled by their disapproval.

"But I can assure that she is in good health."

"I am hopeful yond thee speaketh the truth." Mannfred growled. The muffled screams of Traudin caught the vampire's attention. Mannfred stared at the frothing dwarf in amusem*nt to the point a chuckle escaped from his throat.

"And what shalt thee doth with him?"

"Nothing to concern yourself, milord."Aeligor assuaged."I will take care of this dwarf."

"Wonderful." Mannfred soon lifted the Everchild into his arms. "I shalt await thee at Nagashizzar. Shall thee cometh to the fortress?"

"I will accompany you later. But for now..."Aeligor stared at the glaring dwarf."I have other businesses to attend to."

"If thou insist." Mannfred understood, mounting his beast of burden with Aliathra in tow. "Fare thee well."

The vampire lord took the reins and urged the dragon into flight. The tattered wings spread forth like a legend it once was, before finally taking off. Traudin was forced to watch as the Everchild was whisked away, leaving him with the demons. The Hell noble breathed down on the longbeard's face. The demon's breath felt hotter than Grungni's furnace. The demon's one remaining eye bore into him with a hateful glare.

"Enough."Ordered Aeligor."You will not kill him. That is your punishment."

The baron stared furiously and growled at the Heresiarch. Aeligor wasn't phased at all, however, he did let out a sigh.

"However... you may break him."Said Aeligor, much to the Baron's relief. The tendrils then positioned the dwarf upward to meet them at his full height. Not long after, the tendrils unravelled from his lips. The dwarf immediately insulted.

"WHEN I GET OUTTA THIS, SORCERER, I'M GONNA SHOVE YOUR ENTIRE BODY UP IN THAT BITCHBOY OF YOURS SO FAR UP ITS ASS, IT'S GONNA BE YOUR NEW MOM!"

Aeligor simply chuckled at the dwarf's barrage of insults lashed out at him.

"My, my. I can see why you dwarfs live underground. You are simply dirty. Both body, soul... and tongue."

"COME CLOSER AND I'LL SHOW HOW REAL DIRTY THE DAWI GET!"

"I'm fine where I am."Aeligor responded. The sound of trees and branches snapping caught the Heresiarch's attention. Approaching from the forests, swarms of imps flooded the scene. And dragging with them were some of Traudin's kin. Running alongside them, Hell Knights carried trophies of Asur heads. Traudin recognized one of them as belonging to Avala. The poor woman must have died horrible based on the terrified look on her face, he thought.

An imp walked on all fours before Aeligor. The demon spoke in an unknown language to the archvile. Aeligor smiled in content and turned to the one-eyed longbeard.

"It appears that these are the last of your company. How convenient..."

Aeligor approached one of the dwarfs and gently grabbed his beard. A Hell Knight restrained the dwarf from further resistance.

"Such finely groomed beards don't you think, Baron?"Aeligor asked rhetorically to the noble. It did not take long for the baron to understand the implication and simply strode upon the dwarfs. Traudin was slowly beginning to understand as well and frantically moved against the tendrils.

The baron grabbed onto the beard and pulled it a bit closer. The dwarf yelped and felt as if his head was about to dislocate. With one claw, the baron pressed into the dwarf's cheek and carved deep into the skin. The dwarf howled in agony by the burning tip cauterizing as the noble demon skinned him of his beard. The other dawi hollered in anguish protest only for the Hell knights and imps to hold them down firmly.

"No! Stop! I beg ye!" Traudin pleaded. "I'm the one you want! Kill me in his stead, you Chaos wretch!"

Aeligor snapped his head back to the longbeard with tumultuous contempt and moved the tendril to muffle him.

"I am not a servant to those false usurpers you speak of! They are beneath me... as it is the God I worship."

The tendrils then went for Traudin's eyelids, forcing the remaining eye open long enough to witness the baron finally rip the beard off the restrained dwarf. The beardless dwarf screamed in horror while the baron held the flayed beard over its head and roared triumphantly, followed by the praise howls of its lesser kin. The dwarf's screams stopped as the Hell knight twisted his neck, killing him.

"Consider this a consolation, baron."Aeligor praised the demon noble."The old dwarf will die last. Not by your hand, however. His suffering will suffice."

The Heresiarch walked away from the execution, laughing in the distance in triumph before a portal opened and vanished. With his one eye forced open, Traudin suffered a fate no dwarf should ever go through. A scream pierced the air as another dawi was flayed of his beard. The longbeard could not hold back the tears, for a great shame was forced upon him.

The Warp

From the depths of their anarchic realm, the Dark Gods seethed with anger. Hell had returned. The ones who imprisoned them. They had no right to take away what was theirs. This world belonged to Chaos. It was their right to destroy and be liberated from this mortal realm. And to have that right snatched away from them yet again enraged them. A deafening cry escaped their realm and unto their servants. Their warriors raged and slaughtered their way in Kislev and Cathay; their cultists burned down villages and slaughtered the innocent with rabid dogma; the Beastmen of Drakwald turned their sights upon Nagashizzar while rampaging across the countryside.

Beyond their dark realms were the heavens. From there, the Gods of Man, Elves, Dwarfs and even the Horned Rat shuddered from the chilling cry. Only the ork twins laughed in excitement. It was not the laughter of thirsting gods, nor the screams of dying ones, but theroarof anguished titans.

No longer did giants slumber... and the realm shall tremble in their wake.

Chapter 12: Vengeance Never Rests

Chapter Text

Hours later...

"No, stop! AaaaaaAAAAAAAGHH!" Another dwarf screamed as the Hell Baron flayed him alive. Teeth and bloody flesh exposed from whence lips were, before his neck snapped after. The baron barked at the others, calling the lesser demons to bring in another. Two imps dragged in a redhaired dwarf, dropping him to the ground. His limbs had been severed and amputated earlier, having proven to be unruly and resisting. The other dwarfs wrestled and squirmed against the hell knights' grips, helpless to save another brother from a mutilating fate. Traudin was no different, albeit his fate was worse. The black mass that coiled him against his will had proven to be immovable and tight. The longbeard's one eye was forced open, watching the painful process of beard flaying. Spurts of liquid poured into his eye to keep it from going dry, continuing his torment.

Their screams rang in his ear unbearably. He sank further deep into despair as another dwarf was skinned. The demons cackled like crows in a feast, indulging themselves in the torment of their fallen prey. It had been like this for hours now. Night had befallen now. More and more demons had sprung from the forest, dragging more surviving dwarfs in their claws.

"Please...stop..."Traudin pleaded in his mind. Tears had dried long ago, even as the clear liquid poured into his eye. As if instinctually, the demon noble halted the process. The baron clutched a beard, holding it over his head and admiring it with an uncanny smug. The demon had skinned and collected enough beards to decorate himself with as many twisted trophies to display as possible. A guttural growl escaped his heated breath, the others listening intently. Traudin had no clue as to what they were saying but the moment the demon turned his gaze towards him, he knew something terrible would befall him.

The baron barked again, a clawed hand pointed towards the Longbeard before he summoned a portal behind him. The baron was finished with his ritualistic killing, throwing the last beard on top of its collection pile beside him. The imps made haste and quickly tied and bundled the beards with dwarf intestines from their recent kills. The demon noble waited impatiently with the imps' hasty binding, grabbing one of them and biting its head off. The imps hurriedly looped the beards in response until the last had been collected. The imps moved aside, showing the leader of their handiwork. The baron growled but picked the beard bundle in his hands. The baron gave one final look at Traudin and smiled. A deep laugh bellowed from his throat before finally disappearing into the portal.

An imp howled and the others began to gather the dwarfs in one grouping. The demons circled the survivors, baring their claws, teeth, and eyes lighting with malice and hate for their victims. The dawi panicked, though some grew defiant to the end. Traudin, useless in his restraints, prayed to his ancestors to comfort the dead that awaited their halls. One Hell Knight raised his claw high up in the air, readied to claim his first.

An imp croaked, however, signalling the others to stop in their tracks. Traudin noted something had alerted them. Their heads raised in the air, catching the scent of something strange to them. A sound in the air came after. Almost like a whistle, but not a normal one. Almost as if chopping through...

A Hell knight's head was split apart by an axe upon landing. The demons looked at the dead knight with mass confusion and surprise. Out of the corner of Traudin's eye, a blur of white rushed towards the confusing demon cohorts.

"WAZZOCKS!" Cursed a revealed dwarf, punching an imp with such force to have it flying in the air. The body flew in the direction of another Hell knight, though batted aside with a swing from its hands. This merely distracted it before the dwarf landed a dropkick to its head. The power behind his kick twisted the demon's head in a full one-eighty-degree turn. The head struck a prowler as it landed, the creature crashing to the grass after. The dwarf landed on his two feet after. The Hell knight's body fell to the ground behind him, blood spurting from the stump and all over the grass. The demons encircled the dwarf, now on the defence and cautious of this new opponent. Traudin strained his eye a bit and focused on his rescuer. The light of Mannsleib revealed the figure more and the Longbeard felt breathless as he recognized a mythical figure made manifest. Standing upward with a look of absolute fury, a dwarf with abnormally large amounts of white hair and decorated beard clenched his fists so hard that even rock would crumble under his grip. Angry eyes looked around, looking directly at every beasts' eyes. The demons sense dread like no other being save for the Doom Slayer himself. Grimnir's Rage flashed behind the dwarf's cold blue eyes like flashes of lightning.

"You think you can get away killing my fellow dawi with your senseless cruelty?! Without being recorded into the Book of Grudges?!" Roared the mysterious dwarf. "No one escapes without a thousand axes down on their heads! And I, Grombrindal the White Dwarf, shall see it fulfilled!"

The demons roared furiously, their attention now on the White Dwarf. Imps swarmed in but were met with stone-hard fists. Grombrindal struck with savagery and temper; their heads crushed and caved in with each wallop. A Hell Knight charged and managed to get a hold of him. However, the White Dwarf stood his ground despite the Hell knight doing its damnedest to push against him. Grombrindal gripped the demon by the hands, both struggling to overpower the other. The Grombrindal proved to be far more cunning and used this opportunity to launch himself into a headbutt. The demon was disoriented by the hit, seeing stars for the first time in its wretched existence. Grombrindal strafed to its side, grabbing it by the waist and performing a suplex on it as he threw himself back. A loud crack alerted him that he had broken its neck, killing it instantly. Quickly gathering himself, Grombrindal turned in time as a prowler from before teleported before him with claws flashing. The fiend struck but caught only air as the dwarf was quick on his feet. The White Dwarf smashed his fist against its belly; the force of it rupturing its organs from the inside. Blood erupted from its mouth followed by being grabbed at the leg and smashed into bloody smithereens by the dwarf. The demons, despite the intimidation, gathered around in numbers. Grombrindal managed to glimpse to where his axe was and dashed forward. In one big leap, Grombrindal grabbed and wrestled the axe from the dead demon as he flipped over it. Blood sprayed across the sky but Grombrindal smashed his axe downwards upon a pinky demon, splitting its head in two after. TheRune Axe of Grimnirglowed with a supernatural blue as the runes were activated. With weapon in hand, the legendary dwarf unleashed the retribution of Grimnir down upon the cohorts of Hell, cursing them as he slaughtered with righteous fury. His axe severed and tasted demon flesh as its wielder swung, dismembering and throwing limbs like a mighty whirlwind of vengeance.

In the midst of the one-dwarf onslaught, the captured dwarfs worked through their restraints quickly right as the demons were distracted. Inspired by Grombrindal's tenacity and willpower, the dwarfs' morale skyrocketed as they freed themselves, grabbing whatever weapon lying around and rallying up a mob. The demons turned their attention to the freed dwarfs, though, they were the ones to be overwhelmed. The dawi fought against their captors; chopping and clobbering with axes, hammers and even fists to gain the upper hand. Traudin noticed other dwarfs coming to his rescue, readying their axes. They chopped through the tendrils of the spike holding onto him, carefully so as to not wound the old dwarf. The tendrils screeched eerily before releasing the Longbeard. Traudin fell forward, face planted into the dirt. Blood flowed slowly but freely into his limbs once again from that tight hold.

"Come on, old man!" A younger dwarf helped him. "Get them limbs kicking! We gonna need your fists to stamp out some grudges!"

Encouraged by those words, Traudin heaved himself up, working himself against the numbness. He struggled but a dawi was stubborn to a fault. He pushed himself up, reminding himself as to why he should. The Everchild - Aliathra - was kidnapped by a Vampire Count. An infamous one to be exact. His throng slaughtered because of that damned vampire's schemes. Forced to watch the suffering of his kin in a helpless state. Despair turned into bitterness. Bitterness to wrath. And wrath to violence. And violence did those fists find great purpose as he clenched them.

Traudin worked himself into a berserk state, pushing himself up and screaming himself into a mad frenzy before running towards the nearest demon he could get his hands on. Two imps were at his mercy as he gripped them by their necks. Their heads smashed together into bloody pulps, their bodies cast aside after. A pinky came charging but stopped head-on by the Longbeard as he tossed upwards and thrown down again. Traudin pulled violently at one of its tusks and stabbed it to death with it, ruthlessly. Traudin turned instantly and caved in a prowler's head with his fist barreling into it.

Nearby, Grombrindal rallied the rest of the dwarfs into a bulwark of unbridled violence against these invaders. Once seemingly impervious and unstoppable, the demons found themselves completely headless and thrown off by the sudden vengeance of the dwarfs. The White Dwarf butchered through the demons with ease, making quick work with precise swings with his axe. A terrible roar that seemed more screams came hurling his way. Soaring from the skies, a pair of revenants and a cybermancubus bore through the trees and made their presence known. They started firing rockets and balls of fire sporadically, uncaring of who was in their range. Be it dwarf or demon.

Grombrindal directed his wrath upon the dual revenant and pressed a charge towards them. The revenants noticed the coming dwarf and targeted him, firing a missile barrage. The White Dwarf noticed a hell knight and grabbed at it, using its body as a shield against the firepower. The demon screamed as the rockets blew its back, completely ripping away the flesh and down to the bone. Grombrindal cast the body to the side, throwing his axe into one of them in one powerful motion. The mighty axe managed to sink into the chest of the revenant, its body now flying in circles before exploding into smithereens. The last revenant flew back but was too late as the White Dwarf grabbed its legs. The flying undead kicked and fired desperately as it wrestled the dwarf to get off, only to piss him off even further. Its jetpack flying wildly as the dwarf's additional weight forced it to go down. Grombrindal climbed up and mounted onto its back, punching the back of its head repeatedly. Its shoulder cannons fired wildly in response to the White Dwarf's presence, indirectly activating its combat servers. A barrage of rockets went flying into several imps and Hell knights like an Umgi Hellstorm Rocket Battery. Seeing the potential damage it could do, Grombrindal whacked the demon, again and again, spurring it to launch rockets with carefully timed hits.

The Cybermancubus' sensors picked up the revenant's erratic movements and aimed his arm cannons directly at it. A guttural roar alerted the White Dwarf, followed by toxic sludge that went flying but narrowly missed the revenant Grombrindal was on by mere seconds. His attention now laying upon the obese demon, Grombrindal hit the revenant, blasting rockets and eating away at the mancubus' armor. The fat demon growled in pain and rage, unleashing toxic fire in the air. The revenant quickly evaded, avoiding being engulfed by those noxious fires. Grombrindal responded with another fist to the revenant's head, activating its cannons again. Volleys of rockets ate away at the mancubus' armor. This time, destroying it completely and exposing the demonic ogre's flesh in the open.

Traudin witnessed the rain of fireworks down on that fat bastard as he crushed two imp skulls into his hands. Those explosions were music to him. This was the sound of vengeance blaring in his ears. The scream of vengeful ancestors rising from their graves to bring down the hammer and axe on Evil's great fat forehead. He watched the smoke dissipate to reveal the bloated form of that lardass rising again, now more pissed off than ever. It unleashed terrible fire upon dwarf-mounted revenant, angrily misfiring with Grombrindal controlling the demon. However, Traudin soon noticed its chest exposed. At the centre of its abhorrent body, its heart gave off an unnatural glow, beating visibly in its disgusting nest.

Traudin prepared to face it head-on but saw a couple of lads immediately get engulfed by its fires. They screamed as the flesh melted away from the toxic fires. Distraught but determined to save his remaining throng, Traudin scrambled for a weapon to use. Any weapon. A strange blue glow appeared in the corner of his eye. The Rune Axe of Grimnir was still embedded on the revenant's corpse. Taking his chances, the old dwarf kicked into high gear and ran for it, pulling it from the desecrated corpse.

Looking into the beautiful but terrible power it held in its runes, Traudin turned his hateful gaze on the mancubus and roared. The demon broke his focus on Grombrindal, aiming his weapons at the Longbeard but distracted by the White Dwarf's assault. Traudin, knowing the danger of getting too close, swung the axe in a full arc, spinning the weapon to gain momentum. With the weapon picking up speeds, Traudin raised the axe over his head and let go. The axe went flying in the air, chopping through the air and hurling its way to its target. The mancubus turned in time to find the axe biting deep into its shoulder. It screamed in pain, spraying its flames wildly in the air. Traudin used this moment to launch himself at the demon, pouncing and landing upon its torso. The demon swung and flailed its arms in desperation to throw the dwarf off of him. Traudin quickly went for the heart and grabbed it, yanking it from the cavity.

"EAT YOUR f*ckING HEART OUT!" Yelled Traudin right before shoving said heart down the mancubus' throat. The dwarf jumped and rolled into the grass, rolling away and watching the fat bastard choke on its own organ. Despite having no hands, the demon grasped its throat, desperately trying to cough out the heart. Too late did the demon explode violently upon its expiration. A visceral display followed with the mancubus' spine dangling between two destroyed arm cannons like a holiday tree on Festag night. Seeing the demon now dead, Traudin relaxed a bit before the Rune Axe came crashing to the ground next to his head, nearly killing him by a few inches.

Seeing the explosion from above, Grombrindal twisted the revenant's head, killing it, and landing back into the earth unscathed. The revenant's corpse lobbed itself into a pack of imps, exploding on impact. Seeing the wrath of the dawi in full display, a Hell knight howled and sounded a retreat. The surviving demons answered the call and fled before the throng could settle the grudges. Regardless, the High King will write this transgression in The Great Book.

With the onslaught now over, the dawi cheered in defiance against the dark forces. Grombrindal watched his kin triumphantly raise their fists in celebration as he gathered his axe.

All but one.

Next to the axe, the White Dwarf saw Traudin sulking with his head down. The Longbeard did not share the same uplifting spirit as the rest. For he had failed to deliver his oath. The Everchild was still out there, stolen by that undead bastard. Sorrow dragged over him like a heavy blanket. Grombrindal feared the fate he would partake in the future. The dwarf stood in front of the Longbeard.

"You alright, lad?" Asked Grombrindal. Stoic but not unsympathetic.

"Nay..." Said Traudin, meeting his gaze with his remaining left eye "Nay at all. This journey has failed. The child of the elgi has been stolen while her people died...and I was forced to watch that damned nufuzkazi kidnap her with my own eye...while I had to listen to the screams of the younger lads as those foul daemons flayed their beards from their chins. Not shaved.Flayed. All in one day."

Traudin's voice trembled with despair. He was reaching the depth of his own hopelessness. His fists quivered, not of anger but of loss.

"I have failed my ancestors...my oaths..."

Grombrindal silently regarded the sullen old dwarf, before reaching out a hand for Traudin to pull himself up. Traudin eyed the White Dwarf's gesture and slowly reached out. The Longbeard stood up with the living legend's help.

"Nay...you haven't." Grombrindal denied. "There are still elgi back on the road. One lass named Avarla said you were escorting the girl here."

The one-eyed Longbeard blinked in shock.

"B-But...I saw her head dangling around those...monsters." Traudin swore. "Impossible."

"You mistook her for one of her kin." Grombrindal corrected. "The elgi look the same but they could the same for us. Regardless, it is most fortunate to know someone to recognize. Speaking of someone..."

The White Dwarf reached out his backpack and pulled out a most peculiar companion.

"I believe this one dearly misses her friend." Grombrindal gently held the rabbit Althena in his arms and passed her to Traudin's. The Longbeard's face squinted in joy at the Everchild's little friend, rubbing her head gently as possible. The White Dwarf picked up his axe after.

"All hope is not lost." Grombrindal asserted. "The Everchild may be taken but she still lives. Gather the survivors both here and on the road and take him back to Karaz-a-Karak. Inform the High King and he will make certain that this will be written in the book."

Traudin, no longer sullen, looked with firm eyes and renewed hope and nodded.

"Aye." He said. "I'll be sure to make that. I will fulfill my oath to save the girl. Even if I have to drag a mountain of bodies to rescue her."

Grombrindal nodded respectfully. "Good. But I must go now. There are still others in the Old World that need my strength. But until then, we shall meet again."

The White Dwarf walked away, passing by several dawi who regarded him with high praises and respect before disappearing into the darkness. The throng looked to one another, unclear and uncertain of their next objective. Traudin came forward and announced his presence.

"Lads!" He cried. "Get the wounded and find whatever weapon you have on you! We march to Karaz-a-Karak! And there, we have a grudge to settle!"

Unknown...

Wulfrik trekked through the harsh snows of his homeland's untamed tundra. The touch of winter bit into his flesh like frozen fire. The frost stirred him to move hurriedly for some sort of shelter. All around him, only blankets of snow and the harsh winds of Norsca impaired his sense of direction. It felt much worse than usual. So cold his armor and his cloak of scalped giant's head did little to keep him warm.

"Damn frost!"He thought."If I could find a mammoth nearby, I'll strip it of its guts and sleep inside its warm husk just to hide from this damn cold! Nurgle will be pleased by that when I find one of those damn things close by!"

He grumbled under his breath, pulling his cloak. Trudging through the snow and stubbornly gritting his teeth under terrible weather, the Gods granted him salvation as he could see a flicker of light from a distance. Piqued out of curiosity and desperate for fire's embrace, the lone norscan pressed forward. Winter bit at his heels, urging him to sprint despite the thick snow slowing him down.

Closer he went, the faint outlines of a building became clear. The roof of it gave away its position as snow blanketed the head harmlessly. And on that same roof, smoke escaped from it. The lights from before were revealed to have been seeping away from the front door; ever so slightly jarred to be inviting. Inside, a tune slithered its way into the Executioner's ears despite the harsh howls of Winter's winds.

Vargen ylar i nattens skog

Han vill men kan inte sova

Hungern river i hans varga buk

Och det är kallt i hans stova*

The voice singing that tune was enthralling. Enough that it could perhaps lull the most vicious troll to sleep. Yet, Wulfrik did not feel eased at all. It could be an illusion, he thought, or perhaps it wasn't and it may be home to something sinister. Yet the cold continued to bite at his skin, and having no other choice, Wulfrik slowly approached the doorway with one hand gripping his sword's hilt on his hip. Wulfrik pushed the door ever so carefully. Entering, the norscan champion was greeted pleasantly by the vast halls of a longhouse fit for a true jarl. Walls were mounted with shields, swords, and axes while long tables lined up with succulent food and cups of mead raided from the south. He had wondered if he had finally died a warrior's death and entered Valhall; the Great Hall of Warriors. The song continued its tune even as Wulfrik entered unannounced. And at the centre of this house belied a hearth.

And near this hearth sat a stranger singing unaware of Wulfrik's presence. The voice was clearly that of a woman's, and it became more soothing to his ears. As he approached near her, he could see hair of golden colour covering her back.

*creak*

The woman stopped singing as Wulfrik stepped on a creaky part of the floor. Wulfrik was ready to pull out his sword as she slowly turned to him. The sword was never pulled, however, as Wulfrik gazed at an old familiar face once cherished.

"Wulfrik?" The woman said in surprise. Wulfrik's breathing stopped and his eyes bulged out comically as he stared directly into the beautiful azurite eyes of Hjordis.

The woman sighed in relief and smiled warmly. "Wulfrik, you gave me a scare! What are you doing here? Father would send his guards to kill you if he sees us together!"

Wulfrik scoffed but bemused. "Let him try! Even a goblin could fight better than those scarecrows he has following him!"

Hjordis laughed softly before standing up. She wore a wolf skin gown as she moved forward; leaning in and kissing him on the lips. Wulfrik tasted the berries that parted her lips and embraced her love like no one else. He had spent too long fighting other norscans, trolls, mammoths and more of Norsca's deadly predators. Yet, he always rewarded himself with sharing beds with his betrothed.

"My Wulfrik." She doted. "Never change."

Hjordis placed her head against his chest; embracing him as she had the Serpent's approval.

"How was your last raid?" She asked.

"Not that much different from the last ones." Wulfrik admitted. "The southlings still put up a fight whenever we make land. Hopefully, the Hound is very much pleased with my sacrifices. He most likely smiles upon me with the skulls I've collected. And the loot will suffice for the both of us."

Hjordis frowned upon his odd disposition. "You don't seem at all happy fighting. Has my Wulfrik suddenly grown tired of battle?"

"No." He replied, scratching the back of his neck. "I am simply restless to find new challenge each day. Yet, I am always finding myself fighting the same enemies. Just different faces, really."

Hjordis tilted her head in sympathy. She placed a hand on one of his cheeks. Her eyes stared deeply into Wulfrik's equally icy blue eyes.

"Do not despair yourself. I would rather not have the Crow bless your co*ck with disease." She jested. This brought her lover back to a cheerful mood as he chuckled.

"Come." Hjordis suggested. "I have a bed in need of company."

Wulfrik was all too willing to speak, his silent but passionate kiss giving away his thoughts. Yet, as the two lovers continued exploring their necks with each other's kisses, the Executioner of the Dark Gods caught a glimpse of a particular shield he had laid his eyes upon. This shield stood out the most. Others had images of great and terrible beasts such as dragons, merwyrms and shaggoths painted upon the shields' surfaces; this one was unknown. It was an etching. A marking. It was unlike any other that Wulfrik had seen. It was a cross between the letters "T" and "J" with four small symbols framing on different corners of it. Yet, this very symbol had power. It spoke ofTerrorandReckoning. A symbol that even hisGodsfeared.

So enthralled by the mark that he had lost interest in his betrothed. His hands went loose and he walked towards the shield.

"Wulfrik?" Hjordis called to him, worriedly. The burly norscan eyed too long at the shield. Sweat came running across his forehead; heart beating as fast as if he were fighting in the midst of battles.

"Where...where did you find this shield?" Wulfrik turned back to Hjordis; pointing his finger back at the shield. "Whose shield does this belong to?"

"Probably from one of father's men. He must've been an honored one." She excused. The Wanderer wasn't convinced; anger was rising.

"Hjordis, I know that symbol!" He lashed out. "It does not belong to one of us! Tell me!"

Hjordis backed away with fearful eyes. "Wulfrik, you're scaring me! Please, I'm sure father will have answers!"

"TELL ME!" Yelled Wulfrik. Just then, a sharp pain struck his chest. Wulfrik clutched his chest and knelt against a seat beside him.

"Wulfrik!" Hjordis cried out in fear of her beloved. Searing pain enveloped him with such an agonizing ordeal. It was like hot iron puncturing his heart. He tore off the breastplate to reveal a nasty gash riddled across his chest.

Then suddenly, visions began flashing before him.

He was in the midst of battle. Fighting broke out between two ships. One ship was full of his men. The other, filled with elves. But instead of invading the elves' ship, they invaded theirs. Wulfrik took part in the defense of the Seafang; killing elves that strayed too close. And in the midst of the fighting, one warrior appeared among the elves. He was no elf and he fought like he were of the Norscans. Yet he wore not the armour of the Gods, but a greater being. The surface was smooth yet its design would have made a dwarf jealous to look upon. And in his hands were weapons that only the southlings could wield but with greater power. They roared like dragons and spewed fire without rest. Wulfrik's men were being obliterated by the awesome power of this new challenger. And Wulfrik took to challenging this warrior amongst elves.

The Eternal Challenger dashed forward and clashed with this new enemy. They had come face to face, eyes met with wrath and destruction in hand. And as Wulfrik laid eyes upon him, he saw the mark.

The Mark... of theSlayer.

Blows came after, with neither warrior backing down and fighting relentlessly. And during it all, a cowardly elf struck him dishonourably during the duel. But before the Wanderer could deliver punishment to the interloper, the unnamed warrior had one of his weapons planted against his chest and struck true as theDiabolical Musketdelivered its terrible fury with fire and metal. Wulfrik was blown aback before falling into the depths of Mermedus's realm.

The visions stopped and Wulfrik was able to clear his mind. Sweat poured under his brow and his breathing turned erratic to control. Wulfrik looked around and saw everything had gone back to normal. He looked at Hjordis, who returned with worried eyes.

As he processed his thoughts, Hjordis slowly approached him.

"Wulfrik..." Hjordis quietly called to him. "Are you alright?"

Wulfrik was back to his surroundings and immediately backed away from his betrothed.

"I...I don't understand...!" He said. "Did I foresee my death without rest? Or have I truly fallen?"

"Wulfrik, please!" Hjordis pleaded. "What is wrong, my love?"

Suddenly, the earth beneath their feet began to tremble. The longhouse shook violently under the earthquake. The weapons on the walls dropped to the floor. The bonfire behind Wulfrik burst into a wildfire. Its flames consumed the roof with avaricious consumption. The food - once delicious to look upon - was swarmed with maggots and disgusting flies. Cups once filled with mead were replaced with vile concoctions that burst forth and began melting anything they touched. This longhouse's beauty became a nightmarish landscape.

Wulfrik - now in the total realization of what was happening - set on escaping. However, his first instincts stood before him.

Hjordis.

Wulfrik jumped back on his feet and moved towards his betrothed.

"Come, Hjordis!" He yelled. "We must flee now! It's not safe here!"

Hjordis, however, simply stared at him. Instead of frantic terror that would naturally come to them, Hjordis looked upon him with cold acceptance. Genuine remorse was written all over her face as she touched his face one last time.

"No Wulfrik..." She muttered so loudly despite the roaring fire around them. "I'm afraid you're too late... you can't save me... nothing can be saved once it is offered to the gods."

As she finished, blood began to leak from her mouth. Wulfrik could stare in confusion before felt his hand gripping onto something. Looking down, to his horror, a blade had been driven through her stomach by his own hand.

"No...!" His mouth trembled. He looked up to meet Hjordis' eyes only to stare back at the mutilation done to her. Where once there was pale flesh and golden hair to welcome his eyes, only the bloody sight of her skinless and scalped head greeted him. Where a heart that once lived between her bosom and a belly made to bear their children were replaced with bloody hollows emptied crudely. Wulfrik couldn't even hear his own screams of horror and despair as the fire roared throughout the collapsing longhouse. Kneeling beside his dead betrothed, Wulfrik's final moments were to look upon the shield he saw not too long ago; the symbol of the man who had killed him before a rush of water burst forth from behind.

Present

Wulfrik's eyes shot up and gasped for air. He awoke from his near-death state before turning to the earth and vomiting out gallons of water and blood. Among them, small metal pellets had been collected and exited from his throat. He wretched out the waters from his gullet, tasting bile as he emptied in painful heaps. Minutes felt like hours before Wulfrik finally stopped and inhaled frigid air. His eyes were still bleary and his limbs felt weak. However, he knew that he was on dry land. Mermedus had not yet claimed his soul. Better that way, he thought.

Wulfrik moved sluggishly as he tried to stand. He felt his chest hurting as he regained his senses. He looked down to find his cuirass ruined. A gaping hole the size of a fist exposed his chest. His collection of skulls on it were now lost to the sea. The lone champion tore off the armour piece with one hand; ridding himself of the now useless scrap metal.

Now bare-chested, Wulfrik could see the wounds left behind in his last fight. Large buckshot wounds were scattered all over his chest. It had explained why he had vomited the pellets in the first place. The fight before made him rethink his next brush with Death's champion. The weapons were nothing like what the southlings had used. And that proved to be a hunt most difficult to gift the gods. It was a bloody miracle he had managed to survive. The wound had healed tremendously but moments spent in the cold waters had left a nasty blue discolouration. The soreness was beginning to rise in his chest but Wulfrik did his best to ignore it.

"How long have I been out?" He moaned to himself; scanning his surroundings, he only saw the wreckage of ships - both norscan and elven - on the shores. Corpses were everywhere by the thousands. The only ones to attend their twisted graves were the crows. The carrions took great joy in feasting on Nurgle's charity; cruelly laughing while engorging in the buffet of corpses. Wulfrik would have felt disgusted had such a feeling withered ages ago. Now, his only desire was to return to doing his Gods' bidding.

A slight tap to his boot brought to his attention. Torgald's Sword had washed ashore alongside him. A simple message from the gods to continue his oath. He took up his blade and prepared for another journey. Firstly, he wrapped the cape around his body to protect himself from the cold. Then, he took the collection of skulls over his shoulders. And finally, he removed the pole that had been strapped to his back and carried it in one hand like a gruesome banner.

A distinct crow's caw drew the hero's attention, looking up into the sky to see the carrion circle above. The bird quickly flew east, and Wulfrik followed it to where it guided him.

Wulfrik wandered among the corpses; searching for any of his surviving shield brothers. The stronghold from the distance had smoke going up yet he heard neither screams nor battle from within. Wulfrik had drawn two conclusions. His brothers-in-arms had won or the elves had retaken the hold. If it was the former, then he could at least regroup with the others. If it was the latter... well, he had no issue giving more tributes to the Ruinous Powers. The lone norscan continued his way through the mass graveyard. Every corpse he passed, he saw only the blank expressions written on their faces. Their skin a blue pallor after soaking up in the seas of this dreary land. Wulfrik tugged his cloak closer, the cold burdening him a bit. Sometime after, he came across the body of an executioner with an axe stuck to his head. It was an ordinary boarding axe, used for raiding and piracy. A profession he was most familiar with before and after his ascension to Champion of the Gods. Needing an extra weapon for future skirmish, Wulfrik wrenched the axe off, gore spilling from the rotting wound, continuing his march after. As he strode along the coastline, Wulfrik contemplated the dream he had.

How long had it been since he remembered Hjordis? How long had it been since he... gave her to the gods? The last memory of her pained him more than his chest wound. Everything about the dream opened too many other wounds. Why bring her back now? Had the gods reminded him of his duties by torturing him with lost love? He cast her away in his final rites as the Gods had intended. Along with her father, Viglundr, and that spineless Aesling whelp, Sveinbjorn. Their names had his fists clenching in anger. He stripped himself of any mortal affairs and ambitions. Ormskaro and all the Sarls that resided in it were now ashes to the wind... so why now?

His face softened from the stern glare he once had. Why did the memory of her come back? Now, of all times?

Such thoughts were completely evaporated as the earth rumbled beneath. Off in the distance, he saw a druchii patrol coming towards him. He counted five among them riding upon Cold Ones; seeking out their prey. Wulfrik, however, was no ordinary norscan. For he felt no fear in his heart.

He was the Eternal Challenger. The Executioner of his Gods. They were but pitiable prey to his eyes.

The riders drew near before finally encircling him. Their mounts snarled while the druchii showed leering expressions in an attempt to intimidate the lone warrior. Upon closer inspection, he noted seven witches among them, riding on their vicious horses. Wulfrik planted his skeletal banner to the ground as the blood hag rode forth to greet him.

"Look, sisters and brothers!" She mocked. "A corpse washed ashore. And it can walk too!"

"I still haven't been claimed by Nurgle just yet, witch." Wulfrik retorted in the elves' native tongue. Harsh as the accent was, the witch elf blinked in surprise by his language.

"You speak our tongue?"

"I speak in many tongues." Answered Wulfrik. "Even your nauglir. And I fancy a nice talk with them than I have with you."

The witch gritted her teeth, not deigning to be provoked by the Executioner's sarcasm.

She hissed, "I'm sure they'll enjoy a good treat out of you."

"Oh please, after you." Wulfrik sassed. The witch immediately ordered the knights to attack. A rider behind him was the first to charge. Wulfrik ducked and turned, his sword swinging across in momentum, hacking through the cold one's legs. The nauglir crashed to the sand, throwing its owner into the jaws of another nauglir. Its screeches of agony were silenced with an axe driven to its skull. Wulfrik let go of the axe's handle and backed away in time as a cold one snapped only the air from where he was. The warrior chopped right through the neck of the nauglir with unyielding force. The knight lost control and fell beneath his dead mount. The warrior turned with his sword, cutting into the mouth of another raptor. Steel cut through skin, splitting from ear to ear and all the way through the neck, finally passing through the legs of its knight. Though much of the knight's body had turned numb from the special ointment used to mount his nauglir, he screamed at the loss of his legs before Wulfrik impaled his face through.

"Kill him!" Howled the Hag. The remaining pair of knights lashed out, with the first charging Wulfrik at blinding speeds. The hero dodged swiftly and prepared the death strike until the other nauglir snapped his jaw around his sword arm. He bit back a scream, dropping his sword in the rush. Undaunted, Wulfrik threw a fist into its eye, disorienting and blinding it. The reptile released upon retaliation, its knight trying to balance himself as it spun. The other knight rushed again, seeing Wulfrik now unarmed. But his confidence dropped as he underestimated the hero's vulnerability. In an impressive feat of strength, Wulfrik stopped the nauglir's jaws with both hands, and toss it over his head. The rider was sent flying from his mount and crashed into the sand. A sound of something crack came, and the knight remained immobile from his landing.

From the sidelines, the Blood Hag and her coven were infuriated by the incompetence. All five knights failed to kill the human, three of which had lost their mounts and two of them dead. The Hag cried out for blood, commanding her cohorts to kill the Norscan as he continued to finish off what's left of the knights. Their horses galloped to him, thirsting for blood and vengeance. Wulfrik noticed the witches riding hard as stabbed his sword into a knight's throat. Quickly, he grabbed his axe and prepared to deliver more skulls to Khorne's throne. Clenching his teeth, the hero was ready to strike the hag before something whistled in the air and impacted the woman's skull and horse. Startled by her death, the witches redirected their attention to the arrow's origin only to find a damaged Norscan warship appearing so close and suddenly. For Wulfrik, he instantly recognized the dragonhead. The Seafang's crew readied their bows and threw axes upon the shore, raining down death upon the dark elves while also avoiding friendly fire on their yaarl. The rest of the druchii, seeing their leader dead, were forced to retreat, leaving the survivors to their fates.

Wulfrik lowered his blades, grumbling irritably by the elves' cowardice but settled with his crew rescuing him. Then angry to see the Seafang manned without his permission. The ship immediately took to landing upon the shores, allowing the crew to jump out and welcome their captain back. The first to do so was an older raider named Eldgrim. His head was shaved down to the scalp, leaving only a bald head save for the tattoos that nearly covered it all. His long greybeard reached the buckle of his belt, hiding his burly chest underneath lamellar armor. Being the closest, he was short amongst his crew, reaching only Wulfrik's shoulders. Yet this did not hide the fact he was more experienced out of the crew, and the one specifically chosen as his second-in-command by Wulfrik himself.

"Yaarl."

"Eldgrim." Wulfrik regarded the elder marauder. "Who's manning my ship?"

The old raider sensed the displeasure in Wulfrik's tone and immediately answered, "No one, yaarl."

"Trollsh*t, you did." Wulfrik spat, fuming now. Many of his men slowly stepped back for fear of their yaarl's wrath, having heard stories of disembowelling any man who had the chance to control the Seafang. Eldgrim raised his hands in protest.

"It's the truth, Wulfrik!" He blurted out. "None of us had taken control of the Seafang save for you!"

"Then how the hells did it get here?" The hero questioned, growling lowly to remind the old man who controlled the ship.

"None of us know." Eldgrim admitted. "When you fell into the waters, the Seafang suddenly had a mind of its own! Breathed fire on the elves and that warrior of theirs and threw us into the bridge between worlds! Some of the men fell prey to the phantoms but I was able to get ahold of most of the surviving crew. By the time we returned to the mortal realms, it landed us here. Finding you in the midst of combat with the elves."

The hero regarded the words of his trusted confidant, dwelling if there was truth to them. He snorted in dismissal but relaxed his shoulders.

"So be it." Wulfrik dismissed. "But I will have everyone cutting their palm and dropping blood on the dragonhead. If you speak true, then I will let it slide. But if I find any of you deemed worthy of this vessel, the phantoms you go. Along with you, Eldgrim."

The elder raider was incensed with the threat, but he damned knew that he was able to prove it later. Wulfrik's eyes wandered to the men behind Eldgrim, all nervous and fearful of his wrath.

"As for everyone, the only thing I have to say is to grab whatever loot is among the corpses. And be quick about it, before the carrions return with more numbers."

A noise behind Wulfrik alerted the norscan crew. A Cold One Knight was pushing his dead mount off of him though helpless given his weakened state. Wulfrik grabbed his sword and walked directly to the elf. The knight noticed him and raised his hands, begging in his own tongue. The Executioner simply strode up and planted the sword through the elf's mouth. Wulfrik watched impassionately as the knight struggled and choked as steel collided and punctured through the back of his throat, the life in his eyes fading and his arms falling back to the sand. Moments later, the hero pulled free and gathered his belonging.

"And make sure the corpses stay corpses. Then take the loot for all I care." Wulfrik passed by his crew and went back to his ship. The marauders quickly scurried to find whatever corpse they could scavenge off. To them, at least they could use something to get a few days of ale and meat. For Wulfrik, mere scraps for the rabid dogs, for there is no greater reward than to show the gods the head of his latest hunt.

The head of the Doom Slayer. TheBeastof Ragnarok. And the Devourer of the Gods.HisGods.

But for now, a wolf needed to lick his wounds. And an ego to soothe. And only then will there be more time for another challenge to overcome.

Chapter 13: Wolves at Bay

Chapter Text

Hours ago...

Fire. Ulthuan was on fire. Tyrion saw it everywhere. Cities had fallen to cinder and the screams of his people were heard. Distorted and terrible in their cries. Bodies immolated by the fires, all in petrified agony. Massive ships slowly landed onto the beaches from the shores, sailing terrible flags of the Witch-King's personal heraldry. Great footsteps echoed the streets as the Druchii marched in unison, prowling for the wounded and the weak. Tyrion grasped for his sword only to find none on his belt. Moreover, he was no longer in his famed armour. Only in tattered rags. Seeing himself vulnerable, the Defender of Ulthuan scrambled for cover, running into an alley nearby. The walls grew taller and the path became almost narrow as he ventured the darkness, evading the sentries behind him as he escaped. Yet, he braved his escape, with a faint hope of finding the remaining Asur soldiers still left in the burning city. And following that thought, were his fears. Alarielle. Aliathra. Teclis. Where were they? Did they make it to safety? Could they have been captured? His fears turned to terror as he thought of them. Of what the druchii would have done to them. He ran and ran, his legs never failing him as he raced for the hope of seeing his family alive. The chase only ended as Tyrion now found himself at a crossroads. He stood centre of it, searching for a path to freedom... and avoiding the clutches of terrible evil.

"Tyrion..."He heard, turning his head in search of his caller. Melodious in its voice. Female and in sombre, it was."This way..."

The Defender turned and turned to see who called but lost her, all while footsteps grew closer. A flash of something caught the corner of his eye, and Tyrion turned in time to see a faintly female figure pass through one of the paths. Risking it all, Tyrion followed the figure into the passage he witnessed. After taking so many turns, the way was finally lit as light beaconed further away from the Son of Cothique. Tyrion sprinted as fast and hard as he could in his legs, ignoring the fire and loss of air as he pushed himself towards liberation. The pathway finally ended and the Warrior twin found himself yet again in the streets of what was Lothern. The light vanished, revealing fires had died down, only smoke and ash covered the streets like blankets of snow. Burnt bodies were curled up in painful positions, others simply impaled on makeshift poles. Tyrion was accustomed to the horrors inflicted by the druchii. But to see his very lands be put upon the pyre like this only brought anger and sorrow as he made his way through the desolate street of what was once a beautiful paradise. Mists of smoke blanketed around him, impairing his sense of direction like a thick fog. Aimlessly, he wandered.

"Hurry..."He heard the voice again. It sounded so familiar. The voice enthralled him to follow. His intuition, this time, was better and he navigated through the ashy mist. The smoky fog was thick but the air was still oddly bearable to breathe in. He did not at all seem deterred by it, let alone choked by it. Tyrion breathed in the normally suffocating smog like it were oxygen, showing no ill effects of it. Whether it was of magical nature or not hardly mattered as he heard the cries close by.

"Help me, father!"

"Aliathra!" Tyrion called out, fear growing within as he recognized the distressed call of the Everchild. His own daughter. Born in secrecy between his true love, Alarielle the Radiant, and himself. Swiflty, he moved.

"Father, save me!"

"I'm coming, Ali!" He called out, desperately rushing through the fire and smoke. Running endlessly, he could hear more voices growing louder with each step he took.

"Tyrion, my love! Help!"

"Brother! Save us!"

"Alarielle! Teclis! Where are you?!" Tyrion cried out, to no avail. They called to him yet no answer came. The fog was thick and even when he seemed so close, they were always at a distance from him. His heartbeat was giving out and he felt the fire in his veins wearing him out. His relentlessness, however, pushed him to search endlessly. As he continued, the smoke began to clear out. The ground was visible and the smoke receded from him. Slowly, his speed decreased. His running slowed down to simple walking in mere seconds as the fog dissipated. Far away, three silhouettes made their presence behind the mist. Tyrion stopped in his tracks and took into a combat stance. He was unarmed but no stranger to fisticuffs. The shadows came closer. Tyrion's heart was beating to a normal. Neither fast nor slow even under the fear of death. He fought for all of his adulthood, and this will not be the last. Fists clenched tighter as the figures drew close, almost digging through the palms to draw blood. The first stepped out and out came a woman who had reached maturity. Tyrion's fists unravelled and rushed towards her. Her face had the qualities of both her mother and Tyrion's.

"Ali!" He cried, embracing her so that he might have crushed her in his grip. A father's love gripped him, a feeling most triumphant than the victories in the aftermath of each battle he fought. Behind his daughter, the other two made themselves known. The second came in the recognizable turquoise silk that suited her figure. She represented the will of Isha, and stood as the mother of all Elves; be it Asur, Druchii, or Asrai. The third and final donned his armor as befitting a follower of Lileath, with theWar Crown of Sapheryand theMoon Staff of Lileathto complete the look. Tyrion's heart filled itself with joy and relief to see all have survived.

"Alarielle! Brother!" He cried. "You're all alive!"

Tyrion's emotions blossomed so much he never noticed the solemn looks on their expressions. He was bursting with energy and was content to escape with them.

"Come! We must find safety! This city is no longer safe! We'll have to-?!" Tyrion was interrupted as he felt his daughter grip tightly on his arms. He looked down and noticed for the first time the sad expression on Aliathra.

"Why didn't you save me, papa?" She asked in a pleading tone. "Why did you leave me to die?"

Tyrion was speechless in confusion and scrambled for words.

"W-What are you talking about, Ali? I'm right here! I found you!"

"No. You didn't! Look what they did to me!" Ali cried, tears running down her face as she pulled her hands to his face. Tyrion's blood froze as he saw her wrists were slashed and blood spilled from them. Fear and panic gripped him tightly like a serpent coiling him. Tyrion desperately covered her bleeding wrists with the torn cloth on him, staunching them in futility.

"You left me to die! YOU DID THIS TO ME! WHY COULDN'T YOU SAVE ME?!" Aliathra screamed, now with a face of anguish and rage as she pulled away from him.

"I-I..." Tyrion's throat hitched in shock, few words escaping. "I w-wanted to save you... y-you're my daughter..."

As if compelled, his daughter fell to the ground after and Tyrion held her in his arms; cradling her as he apologized to her, over and over.

"I'm sorry..." He repeated.

His daughter's glare remained even as she was slipping away; turning her head away from him as if to shun him. Realizing the other two still stood in place, Tyrion called out to both his wife and brother.

"Alarielle! Brother! Please! Help her!" He pleaded. Neither showed concern for their own child.

"No, my love." Alarielle spoke first, despair oozing out of her voice. "There is nothing we could do. She is lost to us...as am I."

The ground quake following Alarielle's final words. Huge metal spikes jutted upwards and surrounded Tyrion's paramour, revealing themselves as fingers of a massive giant. Tyrion watched helplessly as Alarielle was lifted from the ground stolen away to meet the snarling mask of the dreaded Witch-King.

"Alarielle!" He called out to her. The hand slowly closed in on the Everqueen. Alarielle didn't even scream as Malekith's hand slowly curled itself into a fist. Tyrion was unable to witness her death as the hand obscured her, only the sickening crunch and blood pouring to the ground was enough to break him. Malekith's emerald eyes glowed with oppressive malice as he looked down upon the weak Asur. A peal of dark laughter bellowed from the giant, mocking Tyrion like a knife twisted through his ears. Tyrion's head keeled over and wept as he lost his greatest love before his eyes, and their daughter would follow after. Teclis still stood motionless, unphased by his brother's sobbing state.

"Teclis..." Pleaded Tyrion, almost silently as a whisper. "Please... save her... save my daughter..."

"No, brother." Replied Teclis, almost uncaring to a degree. "She was destined to die. Malekith will take his place as our lord. And you... willnotstop this from unfolding."

Distraught and horrified by his brother's declaration, Tyrion felt almost every emotion clawing out of his skin.

Betrayal. Anger. Despair. They were seeking to unleash themselves. Tyrion's gaze turned baleful and prepared to roar in anger. No words came, however, and in near moments of reacting, his chest exploded in visceral gore. A sword impaled him through the chest from the back. The blade was still burning, melting his flesh and boiling what blood was left spilling out of him. The pain, he thought. Oh, what imaginable pain he felt. To be stabbed was one thing, but to feel burning metal cook his flesh was horrible. Tyrion tried to scream as he felt the agony coursing through his veins but nothing escaped his voice. Only strangled gurgling noises came as he choked on the blood.

As he struggled to remain alive, a figure circled behind him. It was huge. Stout. Bulky, even. And above all, it was smouldering in flames. It was built like one of the barbarians of the Chaos Wastes. Titanic in size. The armor, however, was distinct. It bore no marks of the Dark Gods. Nowhere near as impractical nor unconventional as the supposed champions of their foul deities. No, it bore resemblance to a sinister figure he had met. A daemon summoned by his own brother. The so-called Doom Slayer. And now he stood over the Defender of Ulthuan with utter disdain. Insignificant in the human's eyes.

The Slayer gripped the sword by the blade, which suddenly morphed, reversing itself with each end switching positions. Finally transformed, the burning giant pulled the sword free from Tyrion's chest cavity. The sole asur remained remarkably alive despite the impalement. Tyrion, seeing the sword in its glory, realized that it was nothing he had expected. In the Slayer's hand, was the fabled sword Aenarion wielded in life. The Widowmaker. The Sword of Khaine. And in his horror, Tyrion watched as the Slayer raised the flaming blade over his head and swung it down. Tyrion screamed for his life as the blade reached its intended target.

Tyrion gasped as he was stirred awake from his bed. It was the dark of the night in his home. The stars bloomed all over the sky and the darkness cascaded over like a blanket. But there was no comfort in his own home. The scream tormented him even as he came to the reality of it all, before realizing the scream came from someone else in the room. Tyrion darted back to the person next to him, wailing in anguish.

"ALIIIII! ALIIIII!" Cried Alarielle as she thrashed around in her sleep, arms flailing in the air as she reached for something. Tyrion immediately shook her to wake up in fear.

"Alarielle! Wake up! I am here! You're having a nightmare! Open your eyes!" Tyrion urged her, calming her in his embrace. He stroked to cool her down and hushed as gently as he could. The doors to their room burst open and the handmaidens came rushing in, alerted by the Everqueen's wails.

"What has happened to the Everqueen?!"

"She's having a nightmare! Help me!" Tyrion answered. The handmaidens quickly gathered and one set off a spell to wake her up. Alarielle, having been given clarity, calmed down as she awoke. However, the Everqueen broke down in Tyrion's embrace following her nightmare. She weeped again and gripped tightly in Tyrion's arms. The prince spoke up but gently.

"Alarielle, it's me." He soothed. "I am here. What happened?"

"I-I..." She faltered. "I-I sense her..."

"What do you mean?" Tyrion asked, now concerned for her. "Who are you sensing?"

"A-Aliathra..." She answered. "T-They took her... T-They took Ali..."

"Who?" Asked Tyrion. His heart now coiled with fear. "Who took her?"

Alarielle's eyes stayed almost blank. Wide-eyed but only expressed in trauma and terror. She slowly looked up to her lover, and the words that followed gripped him tightly.

"The demons." She spoke in a halting whisper. "The demons have taken her."

At that, Alarielle reduced herself to a sobbing wreck, kneeling her head against her beloved prince's chest. Tyrion's greatest fears rose up and wrapped his heart in a vice grip. Their daughter was now in danger, and outside the safety of Ulthuan's defense. With no other choice, Tyrion would now have to force his hand into the matter. Look up to the handmaidens, who despite serving only their queen, Tyrion made his orders clear.

"Handmaidens." Tyrion announced. "Though I am not your lord, I must make my request: send word to the barracks. Muster the Lions, the Sea Guard, my brother! Anyone! The Everchild is in danger!"

The maidens, not accustomed to a prince giving out orders, understood the dire situation and moved hurriedly. The guards rushed out, some staying behind to alleviate the Queen's pain. Regardless, it was Tyrion's duty to protect both the Everqueen and her Child. Their Child. And he would go to the ends of the world to see their daughter safely returned, he thought.

The Darklands - Daniel Pemberton (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword OST)

Present...

The clouds were glowing with the sun gliding over, giving an ethereal glow above the cavalry. For a few hours, it had been mere darkness save for the purple-lit torches that guided the cavalry. The harsh winters of Naggaroth posed a difficult challenge for the temporary alliance of the asur-druchii cavalry. Even if they were accustomed to the cold, the dark elves were all but invulnerable to the climate. Yet their arrogance proved to be an advantage to their situation. Under the grasp of the Blood Queen, the men and women of Har Ganeth followed under her, lest their disobedience catches her attention. For Alith, he and his men were disciplined to treat their entire lives as being on the edge of death; spending their lives fighting in enemy territory, with the druchii as their prime targets.

For the Slayer, the cold didn't really dampen his trek whatsoever. The Arctic had similar temperatures and even then, the powers he had made him invulnerable to the same weakness a normal human would go through. That being said, just looking at Alith reminded the marine that there are others amongst him that don't have the same privilege as he did. What did bother him however was the fragile ceasefire between Hellebron's and Alith's troops. Doom Slayer could feel the deathly glances given to him from the high priestess and her cohorts. Not that they could even pose any significant damage to him. Even if they could, they are but mosquitoes to a giant like him.

"The Road of Skulls is the fastest route we can take!" Yelled Hellebron, galloping in her dark horse. "If no interference poses itself, we'll be to the king's fortress in a day or two at this speed!"

"You'll have to factor in the possibilities of a Chaos Warband colliding with ours considering the invasion unfolding all around us!" Alith countered. This brought him a contemptuous grin from Hellebron.

"If you're so worried about being captured by them, don't be! We'll give you the mercy you've asked before they do!" Hellebron casually threatened. On that remark, Doom Slayer turned his baleful gaze back at the woman, who did her best to not let the Slayer's glare get to her lowered confidence.

"Do remember that you havemein your presence, Hellebron."Hayden reminded, indicating the Slayer in the company, though keeping the guise intact.

"My mind... slipped." Hellebron half-heartedly excused, feigning an apologetic tone to mask her rueful malice. Doom Slayer turned his head to the road ahead, still keeping his eyes on the witch. The witch, meanwhile, glanced to his mount. The nauglir, to her surprise, showed no resistance to the rider's presence. In fact, it was fully submitted to the gigantic man's control. She scoffed otherwise, having no time to ponder the mystery behind the man.

Off in the distance, Alith spotted a snowstorm pushing its way from the north. He thought of it to be just that but the rumbling was unusual. Listening carefully, he heard the sound of multiple footsteps trampling the snow bed beneath.

The Shadow King, realizing the danger looming, yelled, "From the north! A threat descends!"

By his words, the elf riders prepared their bows and crossbows. Doom Slayer, likewise, grabbed the Heavy Cannon in preparation. The moving storm drew closer, with shadowy apparitions revealing within. A beast burst forth, revealing itself to be a warhound of Chaos. Jagged teeth and bone protruded from its mangled face and orifice. More jumped from the snowstorm and descended upon the elves with avaricious hunger. Alith nocked the first arrow and slammed it into the first mutt, straight through the back of its throat. The beast toppled over and rolled on the snow, body trampled over by its other kin. A rain of arrows followed suit, delivering death upon the daemonic packs. Hellebron and the witches joined as well, carrying smaller crossbows to keep the beasts at bay despite being inexperienced and untrained in their hands. Still, they manage to punch holes into the rabid beasts' flesh and fur. Doom Slayer, predictably, supported his lot with his own fusillade of micro missiles, depleting the hounds' numbers with explosive results. Regular rounds would have been applicable were it not for the thundering barrage that the gun produced, spooking the mounts to break cohesion and disrupt the mission. Even so, the missiles hit their strides alright. But even as the cavalry dealt death from afar, more of the feral beasts continued to emerge from the rushing banks of snow. Terrible jaws oozing with toxic maladies, infused with the powers of Chaos coursing through their ill-ridden veins. The warhounds endured the raining death, pushing themselves to sate their appetite. And as if that weren't enough, a bigger breed of wolves appeared. Ice Wolves. Native only to the frozen tundras of Norsca.

As soon as they got close, Hellebron unsheathed Deathsword as they reached past the archery range and howled, "Druchii! Prepare death in hand! Spill blood and guts for Khaine!"

Men and women readied their swords in anticipation of the up-close and personal quarrel. Alith barked his own orders as well and the Shadow Warriors switched to theirs. The first wave of hounds collided with the closest elves they found, crashing into their horses with incredible force. Steeds toppled and riders crashed into the white road, immediately swarmed and devoured by the rabid dogs as they land. The surviving numbers retaliated with slashes of their swords and daggers. Doom Slayer switched to his axe, delivering a swing to a leaping hound. The beast met its end with sharp steel in a messy cut. His mount snapped its jaws as another hound came and trapped itself in the raptor's crushing maw.

"There's too many of them!" Cried Alith. "We're fighting against an endless tide here!"

"Then have your warrior use one of his magical weapons!" Snarled Hellebron. " I don't care how! Just get them off my back!"

Doom Slayer's helmet beeped as Hayden spoke inside his comms, grumbling the usual action."You know what to do."

The marine grunted and whipped the nauglir to move forward. The two elves spotted the Slayer drifting away from the main body of riders, now leading the front of the feral packs, sparking ire from the Blood Hag.

"Where is that fool going?!" She hissed. "Since when has he been so fraught with fear?! And all it took was a storm of wretched hounds to set him off?!"

"If I'm not mistaken, he's usually up to something!" Alith argued, to which Hayden jumped in and said,"Be of no concern, Alith. Focus on getting to the Witch-King's location. I will have the Slayer track your coordinates while he keeps the wolves at bay. Go!"

With the message relayed, Alith whipped his horse to speed. Hellebron was left to the back with little idea of what was happening but made no attempt to claw out for information. As the horsem*n bravely fend off the hounds, Doom Slayer summoned the Paingiver and launched rockets into the sky, detonating them as they reached the clouds. The explosions attracted many of the warhounds, leading them away from the elven host. The Slayer continued to detonate the rockets until the Paingiver was finally depleted. By this point, many of the rabid hounds had instead followed after the Slayer's mount. The nearest hounds closed in on him, snapping their jaws only to be met with a slug from the shotgun, heads exploding and dropping to the ground to be trampled to death. The Slayer co*cked his gun and blasted away at the creeping horde. With more and more drawing, the Slayer drew out the axe and extended the Doomblade, preparing for vicious close quarters and reacting in kind. The nauglir, likewise, retaliated with tooth and claw to keep the wolves from getting close. Together, both man and beast fought with unmatched synergy as they rode through the darkness in search of an easy escape.

"Slayer."Hayden spoke up."While you are preoccupied with the hounds, I have managed to locate an advantageous spot for you. A chokepoint. Just northwest of your location, there's a narrow valley that you could lure them into. Lead them there and end this chase. You already have the weapons at your disposal. I'll leave the rest to you."

A checkpoint appeared at the top of his visor, pinpointing the Slayer to his new location. Not one to turn down an advantage, Doom Slayer whipped again and steered his mount to his destination. The nauglir outpaced the hounds on the whims of his rider. Though it could feel exhaustion, the nauglir would prefer its survival over being fed to the hairy beasts. Besides, its master seemed much kinder compared to the last one who rode it.

From a distance, the Slayer could see the unmistakable shape of a valley with only an opening pass. The nauglir sensed the rider's intentions and dashed straight to the canyon. Behind, hordes of mutated wolves picked up their speeds, eagerly chasing their stubborn prey. The distance, of course, had been exactly farther enough for the Slayer. The nauglir's determination proved itself to be the better sprinter.

The vast outline of the valley became more visible to the Slayer, growing taller and taller as they reached the narrow pass. The path was small enough to force the bulk of the horde to squeeze. Other times, it would've deterred smarter enemies but their pursuers were too desperate and hungry to care, trampling their own kind was merely an obstacle for the prized meal.

In another brazen display of human valor, the Slayer jumped off from his reptilian steed as the Nauglir raced halfway through the valley. The nauglir felt the weight of its rider lifted from its back with surprise and relief, but continued its escape. The Slayer, meanwhile, held his ground and unleashed the Ballistae into his hands. The Destroyer Blade revved up its malevolent power; its deathly heat melting the snow around him. The ground rumbled with grave danger, the packs were coming close despite the storm's obscurity. Not one to hesitate, the Slayer released the trigger, firing the scythe-like energy into the direction of the mob. The dying howls could be heard as the Blade sliced its way through one wave of the rabid beasts; never hindered by the bodies it left behind. The Slayer started up the ballista again, repeating the action, over and over.

Swathes of lifeless bodies started to pile and reached closer and closer, stacking and falling over with each blade severing through the corpses, both old and fresh, into the crashing waves. The dogs were relentless, however, with the lucky ones managing to avoid the deathly plasma blade and climbed over the pile. The Slayer sensed his weapon lose its juice, instinctively switching to the Chaingun. The quad-barrels expanded and whirled up to life, opening fire upon the nearest hound that opened its maw. Bullets pierced through the mass of hairy, mangled flesh that ran foolishly into the Marine's direction, ignoring all instincts for the mere taste of human flesh. Doom Slayer kept his thumb down on the trigger, never releasing it as the mongrels pushed their way through to get close. Other times, a grenade or two was launched over his shoulder once the mass got too big. The passage was clogged with the bodies of beasts, blocking the path for any sentient creature who would seek to go through it. Soon, the horde's numbers dwindled into small dozens of them. By then, the Slayer's rounds emptied from the massive weapon. With only a few dozen left alive, the Slayer got to work with the shotgun and blasted away. Small fries they were and no less stupid. The fight ended with little inconvenience, with the last of them receiving a boot over its head, crushing it to death.

The Slayer breathed heavily, not out of tiredness but of mild annoyance for getting sidetracked. By now, Alith was running alongside enemies who would be more than happy to cut him down at a moment's notice. His thoughts were interrupted as heard a growl nearby and turned with the shotgun only to find his mount tearing through the flesh of a dead hound with its teeth, enjoying its meal.

"I'll get word to Alith about this."Hayden spoke up."And it seems you'll have to take a detour elsewhere."

Doom Slayer understood as he noted the mountain pile of corpses... that choked the entire route he just came through. He grunted indifferently.

"I've pinpointed a new direction that will allow you to traverse the next route. It'll take a while to get there but-"

Doom Slayer walked towards the feasting Nauglir. With both hands, the marine lifted the mount with his strength, much to the confusion of both Hayden and the raptor. Turning back and walking towards the blocked valley. Stopping before the wall of frozen flesh, the Slayer used all of his strength and launched the nauglir in the air, throwing it over successfully even with all the screaming that followed. Following this, Doom Slayer began to climb over, using the limbs to pull himself up to the top. Finally reaching over, the marine sled down to the bottom, where his mount was found shaking and glaring back with great offense, which had no effect on its rider.

"...but of course, you have other means of getting back."Hayden sighed."I'll pinpoint Alith's location now."

"Unf."Grunted Doom Slayer, mounting his nauglir once more and chasing after the cavalry. Had the Slayer stayed behind the wall a little longer, he would've noticed the onslaught of greenskins riding their way towards the valley only to find their route blocked by the corpse mountain. Both the large brutish orcs and the snivelling crooked-nose goblins looked on in puzzlement by the sight. Some of them, however, grumbled about the weird noise that came from here. The sounds of explosion and vibration had them talking when their ears picked up. The goblin Krikzuz approached first, dismounting from his seal squig.

"Sure wasn't 'ere de last time I came through 'ere." Krikzuz remarked. "Damn. Means we'll have to smash through or git elsewhere."

Turning back, Krikzuz noticed the warboss approaching, riding upon his boar. Of the orcs, he was the largest of their kind. He was a Black Orc, the toughest, meanest and strongest of them. His black armor brought fear in his lads yet was revered by all who sought a good fight. And a good fight was found in breaking the knife ears who put them in chains and whipped them to do the humiliating labor work.

"Looks like dem pointy earz are gettin' more and more cunning, Warboss." Krikzuz reported. "That or da red gits have been gettin' real choppy lately."

A loud snort blasted from the Black Orc. The goblin could sense the slight hint of irritability from his boss. Krikzuz took a step back to give way for the orc, only to accidentally kick something next to his feet. Curious, he looked down to find something shiny. Picking it up, he opened his hand to discover a spent shell. The scent on it was still fresh and he could recognize the smell of gunpowder deep inside the cylindrical metal. Prior, Krukziz had belonged to the Old World continent where the boys were eager to smash the umiez of the Empire before the pointy ears snatched him and his boys. The goblin could tell it was them. He then noticed there were several more on the ground beneath. The goblin was curious to see so many on the snow.

"Seemz we got sum umiez over 'ere." Krukziz asserted. "Dey brought dem boomsticks to the fightin'. 'Splains all that thunda we 'eard. But whateva dey got on dem handz, cud be useful fer us."

"Dat don't 'splain the footprints lef behind." The orc finally spoke, pointing at the tracks below. "Cuz I spotted only two gits' tracks."

Krukziz looked to where his boss was pointing, two pairs of feet - one human, the other bestial - much to the goblin's embarrassment. "Oh."

The green-skinned behemoth dismissively walked past his lieutenant and stood before the wall. The tracks stopped before the carcass mountain and looked up, thinking how lonesome git managed to get over the top. Then again, he also thought of how this git managed to best a horde of the mongrels by his lonesome. The metal bits that were strewn all over brought him to the conclusion that this lad was a tough one. The red gits would have been his prime suspects but the booming thunderous noise that the boys heard from afar made him think twice. With no patience to reroute and little time-wasting on the

"Ladz!" He roared to his mob. "Start climbin'! And be sure to get the meat after this! Cuz yer all starvin'! But I'm starvin' for a WAAAAAAGH!"

The greenskins roared with enthusiasm by the Warboss's proclamation. They raised their brutal and crude weapons in the air, screaming "WAAAAAAGH!" with bloodthirsty intent. War is good. And the orcs were good at just that.

And watching them just above the chasm, lay a creature of an older era. A time just right after the Old Ones had disappeared. Where Chaos had spread throughout the entire world, almost engulfing them into an Era of Destruction, were it not for the Elves' casting of the Great Ritual, and the sacrifice of perhaps one of the greatest Slann mages to serve the Gods. This one served his purpose just like many of his cold-blooded kin, though, his was a much hardened path. He travelled unwittingly through the realm of Chaos, delivering devastating blows to the Dark Gods' plans - even aiding a fellow hunter of an unknown yet grimdark era - while also evading their attention unseen. Fighting for what felt like an eternity, the cold one returned to the world justonly seven thousandyears. Too long has time passed since he was trapped and now lost in translation to the newest spawn of his brethren. And yet only one other creature - one whose body has since been ravaged by time yet his soul remains vigilant - had taken an interest in him and wished to give renewed purpose.

To seek out the one that daemonsfear.

A new order and a new mission, the cold one travels through the North. And if not, he will find him elsewhere. For he is the One That Hunts Unseen. And right now, his observation was over. The Slayer was his target. The orcs, blighted as they are, were not his to seek. And into the winter's grip, he sprinted.

Hag Graef

Malus smashed a bloody berserker underneath his foot while crushing another's windpipe with his gauntlet. Or to be more accurate, a daemon-empowered Malus going on a rampage as he defended his city from the Bloody Legions like a red tide pouring into the city's walls. In the midst of the siege, explosions all over had crippled the defences. Malus had managed to survive in part of Tz'arkan's ruthless nature. Both wanted to survive, actually, but the daemon needed his vessel alive. If there's one thing he hates more than Malus, it's Khorne's bloody henchmen. In his time in the Palaces of Slaanesh, he had to deal with these savage idiots making a beeline to Hir home. He never got sick of fighting them since they made good sport (and good eye candy), but would it kill them to calm the f*ck down and just relax in Hir home? They got refreshments the bloodthirsters could take with them for free if they want.

Tz'arkan scoffed as three more of these raging idiots charged blindly before he decapitated them swiftly with one swing of the Warpsword.

"Tsk! All screams but no tact in their fighting. Disappointing."He voiced his thoughts before impaling a bloodletter on his sword. The horde was pouring through Hag Graef like a raging flood. Everywhere, the warriors of Khorne made wanton slaughter on the citizens and slaves. Druchii infantry spread and defended their position with utmost fervour. From Tz'arkan's vantage point, he could smell something despicable.

Warpstone. And those Skaven bastards were under their noses this whole time. Somehow, they managed to sneak into the defences and gave Khorne's idiots a chance at winning. Malus would probably be screaming his head out in anger. So was Tz'arkan but he was a lot more annoyed about it than his vessel. The daemon continued to make the invaders look like chumps as he cut a swathe through their numbers. The druchii behind him rallied to their leader despite being possessed by a daemon.

"Fight, you meat bags! Fight and defend this little fortress you call home! Or do you wish to be a sea of corpses?! You are Druchii! So fight like one! FIGHT ON!"Tz'arkan commanded with ferocity, raising the dreadedWarpsword of Khaineover his head. The Druchii's morale increased and their murder prowess boosted exponentially. For none dared to question the First Dreadlord. Daemon-possessed or not.

Tz'arkan moved to the back of the Druchii Dreadspear line, allowing the defence line to soak up the onslaught while he made it to the back and did his best to hold onto the chains of command. The daemon was not one for being a leader but with Malus out cold, he was doing his best to curb the invasion.

From a distance, thunderous footsteps shook the earth like tremors. A loud roar erupted over the sound of clashing steel and battle cries from mortals. Its massive red frame and equally-sized wings extended as it made its presence known. The Exalted Bloodthirster leapt to the skies, leathery wings loudly flapping and blowing with force to imbalance those too close in its vicinity. His great whip cracked like thunder and struck down a misfortunate elven spearman at lightning speed, killing him violently as he exploded upon contact.

Any other times, the daemon would have bested bloodthirsters like him in the Chaos Realms when he had his original form. But to be trapped in a vessel like Malus has inconvenienced him to some measure. That's not to say the dreadlord was in any way weak; he just needed to be craftier with his tactics.

"Face me, bastard of Khorne!"Roared Tz'arkan."Or are you so much a coward to lay waste upon mortal flesh for your slothful king sitting on his ass on his rusted throne for all of eternity?!"

The exalted demon snapped his head in the direction of the daemon-possessed prince with irate eyes glows in the darkness of his vast size.

"TRAITOR!"Roared the demon."AND A whor* OF SLAANESH, NO LESS!"

The blood-red daemon swooped down in a race to cleave the Tz'arkan in his mortal form. With the blessed speed of the Dark Prince, Tz'arkan managed to sidestep the slam of the daemon's axe, the cobblestone floor exploding in multiple directions, hitting any unexpected mortal with critical and/or fatal results. Tz'arkan reacted with a swift cut to his ankle. Enraged, the exalted daemon lashed out with a swing of his mighty axe, only for the empowered druchii to duck below in rapid response; escaping from a brutal execution. Combined with Malus' excellent swordplay and footwork, Tz'arkan amped up his vessel's potential with his own powers; allowing both to keep up with the violent monstrosity before them. The bloodthirster swung his weapons with infuriating dismay upon facing a swift opponent who managed to cut through his legs with perfectly-timed strikes.

"HOLD STILL, COWARD!"The Bloodthirster roared, smashing his axe and whipping about with his whip. Like lightning, Tz'arkan moved with unparalleled speeds and striking in accord. The battle still raged around them, though, some were foolish to take a glance before arriving on Death's door or returned to the Immaterium to lick their wounds. The duel was tipping to Tz'arkan's favor, and he was quite confident about to the point he was just ready to make the final blow.

Unfortunately, Fate was quite fickle and tipped to the Bloodthirster who - in a stroke of luck - found his grip loose on the axe as he went for a low swing, causing pieces of stone to fly directly toward Tz'arkan who had a split second to shield his face with one gauntlet. The towering daemon wasted no time and delivered the butt-end of his axe back at his distracted opponent, swatting him against the wall with a loud crash. Were it not for the possession, Tz'arkan's host would've been as flat as a bloody fly on the wall. The daemon of Khorne grinned satisfactorily upon seeing Tz'arkan's imminent defeat. His scourge-bearing hand twitched with enthusiasm, raising his whip above as he prepared to deliver death. Had he been well-aware of his surroundings sooner, the greater daemon might have notice the portal opening behind him.

The Bloodthirster was suddenly grabbed by a black tentacle from the wrist. To his confusion, more tendrils sprung and grabbed him by his limbs. Struggling, the daemon wrestled its way out and even swung his axe out of desperation. Too late and too many to fight off before he was dragged away into the black abyss. The portal vanished after, leaving Tz'arkan temporal respite. A nude figure approached the possessed elf. Tz'arkan looked up and smirked to find the self-proclaimed Mother of all Druchii leering down at him with semi-amusem*nt.

"If men were like dogs, I'd say you should go ahead and call your pet, daemon." Morathi commented, earning a dark chuckle from Tz'arkan.

"Always the complimenter, my Lady."Smirked Tz'arkan. Dark veins and white hair reverted to their original form as the daemon receded from his host, allowing Malus to gain consciousness yet again, pissed off and inconvenienced.

"Blasted daemon!" Cursed Malus upon awakening. "I hadeverythingunder control until something threw me off the walls!"

"Well, it seems to me that you had some rodent issues within." Morathi pointed out.

"I'm already aware of that." Malus said bitterly. "Damn barbarians are in league with the bloody Skaven! They've been under our noses this whole time!"

"Perhaps we should call in a ratcatcher or two to deal with it then." Morathi remarked, looking at her nail with complete disinterest. Malus bit back a snarl and some cursed words. Were it not for her status and influence, he would have the chance to rip her to shreds.

"Aside from gaining my thanks, I take it something of importance has come up?" He questioned. Morathi smirked.

"How prophetic you are. My son - that is, your king - wishes every lord and subordinate to be at his tower."

"Important as I believe it is, I cannot go. Not while Hag Graef is under siege by barbarians!" Malus protested.

"Oh, don't be so daft." Morathi dismissed. "That's why I'm here on his behalf, darling."

With a snap of a finger, several portals appeared and all manner of monstrosities poured out from them, followed by their tamers leaving. The most famous of all beastmasters appeared with that bright red plume on top of his armor of torment. That signature 'smirking' scar on his cleft lip was striking and recognizable even from a distance.

"And of course, dear Rakarth." Morathi introduced, followed by Rakarth remarking, "It's always a pleasure to feed the menagerie. It would be too cruel for them to go on an empty stomach. And this was just too good of an opportunity."

Malus groaned upon listening to more of Rakarth's animal jokes. "Is this going anywhere? Because I'd rather see the king now than listen to Rakarth's perverted animal fantasies."

"Ooh, I wouldloveto hear those." Morathi perked up at the suggestion, being the complete opposite of Rakarth's now scowling and brooding demeanour. "But let's not waste too much time. I'm sure your men will hold on without you."

Naggarond

The Witch-King's council room was a cacophony of generals, advisors, and dreadlords bickering over the next strategy and contingencies with the recent diabolical attacks. Across the great walled cities, bombings occurred over several key wall points; crippling their defenses and exposing their vulnerability. The siege battles were now coming under fire, spreading inland, past the barriers that protected the rightful species from the savages. The scent of pure Chaotic magic and the ill-green color that reflected upon these explosions lead to the conclusion that it was neither the work of the dull-witted reavers nor the scheming lords and ladies of the Druchii nobility. No, it had to be the Skaven. Always seeking to exploit and gain an advantage when the opportunity was at hand. Such as this invasion.

Of the cities, only Naggarond had not yet fallen prey to these bombings. It was only through Kouran and Ebnir's efforts to fortify the walls did they uncover the Skaven's plot to weaken the Elves in the pursuit of bringing forth Skavendom once the hordes of Chaos exhausted themselves. Were it not for this discovery, the Druchii would have been completely sundered withallcities no longer safe. As it was, the Witch-King's kingdom was safe behind unmolested walls, barring any daemon and worshipper of the Four from entering.

Presently, Malekith had been in distress with the recent plights of the vermin. It's one thing to fight off barbarians, it's another to fight off bloody rodents!

Dammit, thought Malekith, not when he was prepared to end the scourge. The King's crown deafened the sound of sycophantic generals unless it was needed as he contemplated his future. What will happen to him when his war was lost? Will he ever achieve his destiny of uniting Ulthuan under his rule? Could he really do so with the threat of Chaos casting its shadow over him?

"My King-"

"WHAT?!"Malekith lashed out at whoever snuck behind him, only to find his loyal Kouran standing as he turned. The look of mild shock and perturbed expression on Kouran had Malekith almost regret doing so.

"My... apologies, Your Highness." Kouran apologized. "But lord Darkblade has been retrieved as requested. And the council wishes your next course of action."

Malekith fumed but sighed as he tried to calm himself. Some of it being flushed out by his crown's magical properties.

"Very well, Kouran. I shall join as of now."

"As you say, my King." Kouran obeyed. Malekith watched as three figures joined his War Council. Malus and Rakarth took what seats were left available while Morathi stood beside him. The Queen-Mother waved her authority plainly but non-verbally to everyone addressing Malekith's rule, simply by just standing next to him, much to his malcontent.

"My son." His mother addressed him. "Just as you've asked. One possessed prince."

"Indeed."Malekith dismissively remarked."Your help is needed as always."

Morathi pouted. "Is that how you would address me? Your own mother? Especially after her own tower was destroyed?"

"So I've heard."Malekith acknowledged."As it is, we will punish these infidels for destroying your hold."

"Destroying my hold?" Morathi repeated, perplexed. Malekith raised a brow when she inquired the offense done to her.

"Yes. They have brought your tower to ruin, did they not?"

A look of realization dawned on her face.

"Oh. That? No, no. You have that all wrong..." She corrected. "That wasmydoing."

Even with the mask obscuring, his mother could already read the shock in his jade-coloured eyes.

"Oh, come now." Morathi dismissed. "It's not like I could do much to save it all. The northmen were already clogging the place so blowing it up was the most logical thing to do. The only things that weren't worth leaving out were a couple of artifacts and heirlooms. And a hefty amount of harem slaves. And some precious minerals. Oh, and some pupils that I had not yet abandoned."

Malekith sighed in exasperation. The things his mother had done still confounded him. The Mother-Queen could sense her son's annoyance.

"Oh, don't feel so worried. I could stay here in Naggarond when all has settled down. If not, I'm sure the other cities wouldn't mind me ruling in their stead." Morathi reassured. Upon hearing this, some of Malekith's trusted advisors and lords gave worried glances to each other and prayed Har Ganeth's leadership had an empty seat available by now.

"We'll discuss this another time."Malekith stated, giving a sliver of hope to anyone eavesdropping.

Peering around his subordinates, he saw subtleties of exhaustion and despair. Some were still licking their wounds - in a half-literal sense - with Lokhir of House Fellheart visibly bandaged and treated with what medicine and narcotic wine were available to him. Others, like the recently-arrived Malus, had an expression of dullness that could even border on madness with their forces suffering attrition and losses not seen since the Battle of Finuval Plains. A defeat many not dared to speak within the Witch-King's presence.

And still, there were a few missing. Perhaps dead and replaced in the time of war save for one other individual. Waiting for her would not bring things up to speed. The council ended their constant debating as Malekith made his presence.

"The time of bickering has ended."Malekith spoke up."I have gathered you all here - the ones that survive, that is - for the expressed purpose of ensuring our people survive this apocalypse. The wolves no longer wait at the gates. They flood the streets of your homes with blood spilled to pave themselves and coat their armor. Not only that, but the verminous Skaven have taken to undermining all of our defenses with their eyes behind our backs.Only Naggarond remains standingwith its walls still unbroken from interference. Even so, my tower could only stand as long as there are abled bodies willing to fell the enemy and to keep the pressure holding beforewefall apart. This means we are now facing two fronts with a limited window of time until our nation is turned to sunder unless we commit ourselves to the betterment of our people. So I say this to you: offer what is from the mind and onto the table. Or I split it out from all of you myself. If it means to ensure the rest's survivability."

The War Council looked uncomfortably at each other, staying silent until one of their own was willing to sacrifice themselves. A wrong answer - or a misstep even - could bring his wrath down their heads and even their houses. Of the council, it was Ebnir Soulflayer who stood from his seat. The deep-seated scars that painted his once-handsome face did nothing to hide the concerned look he had.

"My King." Ebnir started. "As we continue to reinforce the defenses with what numbers we can relay with the help of the sorceresses transporting our supplies and numbers and the beastmasters sending their menagerie in place of siege weapons, we have been going into a number of problems. With the walls destroyed in several citiesbarringNaggarond, our fighting forces have been split and reallocated to the exposed points, leaving us in an... unfortunate... position. Our numbers have seen casualties more than we can to the enemy. And - not wanting to compound this further - we have also seen a loss in supplies. Much of our rations have been spoiled and poisoned by Skaven saboteurs. We've seen the patrols responsible for securing and overseeing such supplies executed for gross negligence but the Skaven have so far evaded punishment. In essence, we can only hold on for, perhaps, a few weeks."

"This is merely a report."Malekith stated. His gauntlets dug through the ebony table, speaking to his displeasure."Though, I sense there is more to it than just that."

Ebnir paused as he thought to speak of the wisdom. His wisdom, at least.

"To start with the latter issue, I... would suggest we use the slaves or animals to recoup our dwindling supplies. As it is now, a majority of our slave pens so far have remained hidden and left untouched in the duration of this scourge. So... with your permission, we could perhaps extend our lives beyond the few weeks given if we resorted to... well, finding replacements for rations. Not now, of course, but... before the supplies reach their expirations. This is merely a last resort."

Whispers spread amongst the generals. Some have shown disgust and wished to rescind it altogether. Others understood the pragmatism behind Ebnir's reasoning. Individually, it was a mixed reception. Even Ebnir did not seem to enjoy this proposal he had made. As with the two most powerful rulers, they were not immune to opinions. Malekith felt nothing but revulsion to resorting to cannibalism, while Morathi suddenly now had a craving for long pork. Even so, the former desired to see his kingdom survive. Even if it means turning their proud people into carrions of the dead.

"This is... something that I find... concerning... but it will be brought up for another time."Said Malekith, not remotely hiding his disgust at all."And I pray this does not end here, I believe."

"N-No, my lord." Ebnir answered. "As for the defences, we are - as mentioned - taking heavy casualties. If Naggaroth falls - and that is a bigif- I suggest we prepare a massive evacuation with the Black Arks and all remaining ships in the case of overwhelming defeat."

"And what is it you suggest we sail towards, dear Ebnir?" Another spoke up. One belonging to that of Venil Chillblade. The latest batch to wield the position in Malekith's council by hereditary. "If you insist on Ulthuan, then let it be known they arestillthe bane of our existence. Treating them with diplomacy would end with swords raised and blood splattered on the sands!"

"I standby Lord Chillblade's stance." Said another. The beautiful - though, beneath Morathi's beauty - Drane Blackblood voiced her support. "We should set sail towards the East. We once had colonies there belonging to us. I'd say we get rid of the occupants that populate them. Killing them would be easier than killing Skaven."

"I would advise against it." Lokhir countered. "These 'occupants' you speak of willnotgo down without a fight. Not when they are equipped with their blasted gunpowder. I've seen the onslaught of elves fall prey to the inventions of guns in the hands of human forces. Even if we commit ourselves to lightning raids, the race of Men still outnumbers us. Their populace is ever-growing and replacing their numbers in the blink of an eye. And let's not forget the dwarfs who still seek to smite us to settle grudges."

"Tsk!" Venil sneered. "The great Krakenlord fears cattle that take merely too long to reload their fire staves whilewepossess powerful beasts and magic on our side! And the last I heard, the humans are too busy dealing with all sorts of monsters of their own! What's so different about us coming to the lands we rightfully lay claim to?!"

"Then we'd be simply replacing them and heap all oftheirproblems tous!" Lokhir argued, his voice raised in response to the taunt. He looked to Malekith. "My lord, it is best we sail towards Ulthuan! Damn the Asur for all I care!"

"I second that notion!" Ebnir agreed, which caused an upheaval between the many lords that listened in. The endless torrent of bickering brought no end to frustration for Malekith. Any other times, such disorder would be met with hanging on the edge of his tower. Yet, the direness of this war forced him to be much more conservative with his lieutenants. His mother, however, did not seem to approve of his passivity. It was so unlike him to be this apathetic to the fight before them. Of course, she had witnessed bouts of wrath sporadically in every meeting she had, but this impassive form he espoused struck her as off-putting. That wasnotwhat Aenarion would do. And neither his son should do.

It was only when Venil made an unfortunate slip did Malekith react rightly so.

"Oh, you wish to repeat the same mistake upon arrival as to what had happened in Finuval-" Venil stopped mid-sentence before realizing his greatest mistake. The others gasped with horror before the noble was dragged away by dark chains conjured by the Witch King himself; his eyes burning with unnatural green colours as he was reminded of that failed assault centuries ago.

"You...DARE?!"Malekith roared; his booming voice howled for blood."HAVE I GONE SOFT AND LENIENT TO ALLOW YOU TO SPEAK OF THAT INCIDENT?! HAVE I GROWN COMPLACENT TO ALLOW SHEEP LIKE YOU TO FESTER WITHIN MY RANKS?! TO SPEAK SO BRASH AND DARING BEFORE YOUR KING?!"

"Y-Your Greatness! It was an error of my judgement! I-" Venil protested, hands shaking in the air as he tried for innocence. Malekith ignored all protests as he dragged the poor nobleman outside, where the freezing winds caressed the king's midnight armor. From there, Malekith stood by the edge of the tower with one hand grasped on the frightened lord's chains. Venil could only cling to Malekith's arm as he desperately tried to avoid his fate. The grand height from below would be enough for any victim's screams to be carried by Naggaroth's winds.

"Too long have I toleratedeachandeverysingle lord here prattle about their exploits to currymyfavor. Long enough to speak their minds with loose lips and intrigue! From this day forward, I will see to it thatallwill understand who rules this land!"

Suddenly, almost every single lord had been dragged by the ankle with the same dark chains to join with Venil. Only Kouran and Morathi had managed to seemingly be beneath Malekith's wrath, but even they felt disturbed with the King's maddened state. The Lords and Ladies that make up the Witch King's council could only scream in terror as they dangled by loosening chains. Some begged to spare their own lives, while others took to gripping themselves onto said chains in an effort to somehow outlive the others.

Malekith had reached his breaking point. His kingdom was falling apart. His parliament was full of greedy harpies who incessantly proclaim their allegiances to him just so they could have a better comfort. And now, enemies seeking to undermine him in every way possible.

Malekith's fingers loosened around Venil's collar, the noble in his grip losing blood from his pallor as Death was finally catching up to him and the others. Yet, as the Witch-King gleefully looked forward to it, with Morathi even taking some joy in it, a flash of something pulsed in his head. The air around him was seemingly frozen as was Venil's expression.

No one but Malekith was aware of this phenomenon. And he had only guessed what it was.

"Came back to beg again, father?"Asked Malekith to the apparition behind him. He had already felt the strange but recognizable warm glow that seeped through his armor and touch his skin. He would've felt it unbearing and tormenting even, but it soothed him rather. Turning back with his hand still outstretched and gripped, Malekith saw his father standing yet again, motionless like before. Behind him, both his son's loyal right hand and mother stood frozen in suspension like all around them. Knowing Morathi, it was hard to tell for Malekith if his mother was witnessing all that was present. But that did not matter to him.

"What's wrong, father? Do you not approve of what I am about to commit? Are you here to stop me from killing this pestilent weakling?"

"No."Aenarion answered."I have no intention to stop you from what you feel is best to sate your old wounds. Therefore, his life is on your hands. As is theirs."

Malekith scoffed at the sheer apathy of his father. Very much like him when he was alive.

"There's the father Iknow."

"And the father I've come to regret being."Aenarion lamented."Make no mistake, my son, I do not seek to stop you from killing a man whose forefathers spilled so many blood and buried so many bodies to accomplish a seat in your quarters. And is still even passed down from one generation to another even to this day. Then by all means. But if killing your subjects to prove some deranged point reflects who you are, then it will do little in the eyes of Ulthuan."

"And there it is again!"Malekith laughed."I thought you wouldnevermention it but it seems I misjudged my foresight! So suddenly does henowcare about Ulthuan when he had abandoned his own home! His people!"

"A world where Aenarion never once thought that everyone close to him wouldn't mourn for his passing! Just head straight to the battle to save the world while never batting an eye when he left his own family! His own son!"

Aenarion simply stood and braced his son's emotional turmoil. All that anger. That grief. The suffering. Emotions thathecould not solve in his own way to Malekith. But rather than talk down and berate, Aenarion simply let him expunge all that pain his son had carried over his shoulders.

"And now he comes back... just to lecture his own blood and flesh about change... why...? Just why do you still believe I am worthy when I have donenothingto show any goodwill for the past millennia? Look at me now. Of what I am. Of what I am about to commit. So what is it that makes me so special that you would come back when I am so far gone?"

Aenarion sighed."Because even one so high as myself could never forget the most basic of needs. Like raising his own child to be better. I wish I can reverse time to spend what remaining days I had to concentrate on raising you not just as a king, but also as a good man. But we're long past that now. And even so, I am here to make amends. Starting with you. I love you, Malekith. Even if what I see now is not what imagined, I still forgive you... as you should forgive yourself."

"So please... don't let this poison inside you wrack your body. Don't let grief consume you as I was. I know you are strong. I'm not asking you to make the biggest transformation. Just a small sum of kindness will be enough."

Malekith stood there, silent and distanced, having lost all umbrage and maddening sorrow as his father poured his own heart out. To reach out for what he could have not done in life. Perhaps, too late even. But better thannevergetting that chance. Malekith turned away from his father, looking at the petrified Venil in his hand. Staring off, he saw the equally terrified council left hanging over the edge.

In one blank, time returned to normalcy. The air caressed his armor harmlessly, and the many cries of his subordinates blasted in his ear. Emotions returned to him once again. The feeling of anger consumed him to commit yet another terrible deed. But instead, the Witch-King cast the nobleman back onto safe grounds, as the same was done for his loyal advisors.

The council gasped and hyperventilate as they tried to reassemble themselves more calmly upon their spared lives.

"That... will be the last time any of you dare step out of line."Malekith simply stated."And I will need all the extra hands to keep the masses disciplined."

Not far, Kouran sighed in relief to see the lord had not gone too far. Morathi, however, could only express disappointment. Both in how anti-climatic it was after all that bravado and to see her son express weakness.

By happenstance, another portal appeared. Appearing was Felicion with some Blood Hags. Influential and authoritative but nowhere near the one Malekith was seeking. Felicion stared dumbfoundedly as to why so many lords were on the ground but quickly presented herself upon seeing Malekith with the humbleness valued by most lords, feigning it to hide the contempt upon seeing Morathi. Which worked well in the eyes of many, save for Malekith who noted the clenched fist as she bowed upon seeing her captor, Morathi.

"Where is Hellebron as I've requested?"Malekith demanded.

"Your Highness." Felicion cleared her voice of fear. "I was unable to retrieve her due to having left Har Ganeth by the time I arrived. However, I managed to retrieve the best authority I could find in the city."

Malekith could furrow his brow upon hearing Hellebron leaving her city.

"Left? Had she already abandoned the city when the invaders came?"

"No, lord." A Blood Hag spoke. "The invaders had fled from the city with the aid of outsiders."

"Outsiders?"Malekith questioned."And who were these outsiders you speak of?"

"Enemies of Naggaroth, lord." Said the blood hag. "They wear the colours of the Asur. Namely, the one known as the Shadow King."

Upon hearing this, the council felt a grip of panic and confusion upon hearing the legendary Alith Anar had come to Har Ganeth's aid. Even Malekith was taken aback by this news.

"You mean to tell me that Alith Anar had come to save Har Ganeth? Madness."

"Unfortunately so. But that's not all. He comes to aid with a mysterious warrior clad in green and bearing arms not yet known to us." The Blood Hag said further.

"Green, you say?" Rakarth spoke up. "Would this warrior happen to be burly like a barbarian have carried an unusually-looking human weapon?"

The Blood Hag narrowed her eyes upon Rakarth's recognition. "Why... yes? Have you met?"

"I met him when he was traversing through the Sea of Malice. He was with a crew of corsairs and-" Rakarth paused upon realizing his mistake. "Oh."

Malekith glared at the beastmaster with utmost outrage, grabbing him by the collar."Are you saying you sent not only assassins to my direction but also the High Priestess of Khaine's Holy Grounds after me?!"

"I-I assumed they were looking for safety!" Rakarth protested. "They spoke of treasures of sorts! I had no way of suspecting them of murderous intent were it not for the battles with the Warriors of Chaos!"

Malekith fumed in anger yet again, casting the beastmaster aside. It was here that Morathi approached.

"My son." Morathi started, soothing his son's distress. "I believe it best that you should stay your hand in this. Let the outsiders come. Perhaps there is more to this story than what is accounted now."

"You speak of gambling my life by a thread!"Snarled Malekith, before pausing in a moment of clarity."But if your assurance is anything, I'll be open-minded to more options available. But I will stand guard if my life depends on it."

Morathi nodded, gaining another of her son's trust. By now, the council had stood up with some regained confidence. Malekith, having reviewed what was given.

"As of now, the current issues will be addressed. I will have supplies transported and re-routed to your holds for as long as I can. And if the situation grows dire, prepare all vessels until further instructions. Leave Hellebron to me. I will take this by my own hand. Now be gone from my chambers."

Portals began to appear as Morathi gestured herself by Malekith's orders. Each lord returned to their holds and back into the fray. Of his advisors, Kouran and Ebnir remained in their home fortress but even they were sent back to manage the walls yet again. Felicion, meanwhile, continued her duties as told. With the entire War room now empty, only Malekith and Morathi remained.

"You knew they were coming."Malekith spoke."And do not think to play coy, mother."

Morathi smirked. "I figured you were too overwhelmed at the moment. Thought I lifted one issue off your shoulders... if only for a bit."

"Such information would have been brought to my attention in haste!"Malekith retorted.

"And would it do you any good?" Morathi said back. Silence fell upon him. She could only sneer and said, "I thought not. Let mother handle this. You have enough on your plate. So allow me to lift your spirit this instance."

"Just get it over with!"Ordered Malekith."And I want those three alive upon reaching here. Since you are so well-informed, I will have you be their envoy as of this moment. There are more questions than there are answers to this unexpected alliance. You are free to go."

"Oh my dearest Mally~!" Morathi coyly teased. "You forgot to say 'please'~!"

"Just. Get. Them."Malekith repeated, pausing before relenting."Please."

Morathi bowed respectfully and hurried off. Of course, Malekith had already sensed she had something to gain from this. As he recalled, he could only guess the green warrior known only as the Doom Slayer was her main objective. He could only shudder in the implications. To keep his mind a bit more sane, he had thought of what his father had said. If there was a single shred of goodness left in him, would it be enough to rebuild not only his kingdom but his own self? Was it even that possible to seek forgiveness in the eyes of Asuryan? And what would his people think of him? Not just the Druchii, but as well as the Asur of Ulthuan and the Asrai of Athel Loren from across the oceans.

He had not much else to think of besides this present thought. Alone in the room, only the sound of wolves being kept at bay as they howled for blood kept Malekith from sinking into insanity.

To be continued...

Chapter 14: Dark Fantasies

Chapter Text

The rat shrieked as Valkia impaled the wretched thing on Slaupnir. It's foul musk sprayed before it expired instantly. The Gorequeen expressed her disgust by retching the Skaven off her spear in one swing. Valkia's eyes were now directed towards the other vermin, now closely watched by her personnel.

"I was promised that the walls would fall!" Valkia snapped. "Yet, here they are, still standing before me while my army is painting the walls red with theirownblood!"

The Gorequeen snapped one of her men to drag a skaven before her. The thing was shaking in fear, as it was in their nature when facing authority.

"E-Elf-things discover-found us! Clever and cunning things! Ruined-destroyed plans to take-steal fortress!" The skaven cried out.

Valkia roared in anger as she decapitated the rat in front of her. The other two squealed and shivered, spraying again their awful stench. Her men, meanwhile, tried their damndest not to show their fear, sweating beads underneath their closed helmets as they watched the daemon princess vent her anger on such pathetic creatures rather than themselves. A fortunate outcome greatly favored their side. The Gorequeen redirected her wrath once more to the foul vermin.

"Craven things are what you are!" She roared. "Killing you would ease my wrath, but to give such pathetic offerings to my beloved is an affront to his throne!"

Valkia grabbed the skaven by the throat and threatened, "Remove yourself from my sight and spread word to your lowly masters that the deal is off!"

Faintly pleased, Valkia cast the rat back to his partner, both of whom scurrying away to find some burrow elsewhere. Her gaze was now set upon the wall. Still, it stood arrogantly down upon her army for the past week. No matter how much manpower and daemon she could attain, the elves used their damnable magic to ensure that they would survive this battle longer. The skaven were supposed to do their damn jobs, but it seems they weren't clever enough to hide their tracks within. The Gorequeen grinded her teeth in frustration with her derailed plans.

On the other hand, it was only one fortress she was besieging. There were still other forces at the elven citadels elsewhere, and with their numbers, there was a good chance that they were successful in securing victories. For now, the Witch-King and his cohorts were her targets. Except now they have the damn witches from Ghrond.

She held her gaze on the eyesore of a tower. The top was now swirling with not only black dragons, but also dark magic to repel any that come close. Not even the mightiest Bloodthirsters could penetrate its barriers without risking banishment back to the Warp. The ebony tower was too much and she turned away in disgust.

"I'll be in my tent." Said Valkia to her men. The Norscans nodded and paid their respects before leaving her be. And rightly so, for she was in a foul mood. Valkia walked back to her tent, where the war table was set up at the center

This took a moment before Valkia smelled the scent of magic closeby. She whipped around and readied Slaupnir at the intruder. As it turned out, all she found was an old, decrepit man in dark furs and gnarly staff. His eyes were milky white, indicating blindness, yet the motion of her spear created a surprised look on his face. Though, the most damning that caught her attention was the white crow perched on his shoulder. She was not fooled by the seemingly innocuous disguise his familiar went by, for a great source of magic was abundant within.

"Who are you and what do you want, craven?" Demanded Valkia. The old man held his hands in defense.

"A-Apologies, Bride of Khorne." Said the man. "I am but a messenger of the Gods. And a humble advisor to any ear that is willing."

"None that I shall not need from the likes of you." Valkia said dismissively. "So tell me, messenger, how is it that you managed to come to me with sanity intact? I thought the other three gods left their followers drooling like idiots a while ago."

"T-That was the case, indeed." The advisor said. "But the mighty Blood God was able to sort out the madness. Not that the initial plans for takeover had been… well… entirely intact."

"Plans that you were in the midst of, I take it." Valkia stated. A look of shame showed itself on Bertrand's face and said, "As it is, I'm currently wanted in the Empire because of that event."

"Mmh…" Valkia hummed in a disparaging tone.

"Well, advisor…" She spoke mockingly. "Since you are here, what message do you bring that is so important to distract me from my own work? It must be a good one, for you know what happens to messengers like you. Especially to those who bear the mark of Tzeentch."

The elder's eyes opened comically wide and quickly answered, "I assure you, Gorequeen, that I speak on behalf of the Blood God. Ah!" Cried the advisor as his familiar pecked hard on his face. "At the moment."

A brow perked up on Valkia's grim scowl. "...continue."

"Mighty Khorne warns you of a looming threat coming your way." The advisor continued. "The Hellwalker is on the warpath. He has already defeated both Wulfrik and Arbaal in combat, leaving entire armies in disarray and retreating from their positions. Arbaal especially has been slain."

Valkia's attention was now paramount upon hearing the news. One of Khorne's mightiest chosen had fallen prey to this prophetic destroyer? Even if Valkia had been dismissive of Arbaal's questionable title, he was a formidable warrior by his own right and he earned it.

"How?" She asked, to which the man answered, "The Hellwalker overcame them with steel, strength, and a small force of elves. Both asur and druchii. Both led by Alith Anar and Hellebron."

Valkia's eyes narrowed when she heard of it. "A small alliance? Madness."

"Perhaps." The advisor noted. "But one that is deadly. And it will prove to be of great consequence should it continue so. Word has already reached out to King Malekith's ear. His mother has begun her search. The Blood God seeks to prevent this meeting. He has already sent the hounds, but they can only do so much."

"My current army is already pressing the attack on the Sorcerer-King's fortress!" Valkia argued. "I need the numbers to fulfill their purpose!"

"The Siege is second to what Khorne asks of you. This is an utmost pressing matter. Far more than you could possibly imagine." Said the old man. His words were a little too forward, for Valkia's scowl turned into a hideous glare when she felt slighted by the old man.

"Are you taking me for a witless fool, wizard?!" She snarled. "Have my efforts to honor the Brass Lordnotimportant enough to be taken seriously?!"

"That is not what I am implying, Lady Valkia." The advisor clarified. "Mighty Khorne truly values your devotion and always thinks ever so greatly of it. But... to ignore such orders… would be devastating to the Dark Gods. He implores you to aid his forces east of here. Where the elves are riding through the Road of Skulls. Prevent it, and the expansion of Chaos shall continue unimpeded."

Valkia breathed harshly. There were too many plots on her plate. And too little resources to cover all. But this was Kharnath's will. Her beloved. So how can she refuse such a call when it is received?

The Advisor seemed to have noticed, if blindness didn't hinder his senses, and a relieving smirk seemed to have gotten Valkia's attention. In a pissed-off manner that is.

"What seems to amuse you, old crow? Have my failures been pleasing to your cowardly god? Or are there plenty more of your schemes up your sleeves?"

"Gorequeen. I didn't come all the way from the Old World empty-handed." He answered, clicking his fingers together.

The tent's flaps opened again. This time, a Khornate champion bearing his patron god's emblems and armor that would put the dwarf smiths and architects to shame. Each hand, he held axes of brass and fire, growling and burning as they hunger for flesh to cleave into. A walking fortress if there ever was one. The man saluted to the daemon princess with utter reverence, but scowled when turning his attention to the advisor, but restrained himself from cleaving the latter with his axe, much to Valkia's surprise.

"Hail, Valkia the Bloody! Gorequeen of Khorne! Bride of the Axefather!" Praised the warrior. "I am Wolfram Deathmetal! Hero-Born of the Kurgans, Doom of the Dwarfs, Ogrebane, and Foe-Hammer of the cowardly Skaven! And I bring honor and tribute to your name! Were it not for this crow's words, I would have slain him then and there and continued my pilgrimage with the Everchosen's war hosts. But if it is to come here by Khorne's decree, then I am bound to honor the Lord!"

Valkia's fiery temper had quenched like a sword submerging in oil upon those utterances. Her brow furrowed less and lips reshaping like that of an officer inspecting the discipline of her battalion.

"And what 'tributes' do you bring, Wolfram?" Asked Valkia.

"Best to show it to you..." Said Deathmetal, moving aside and gesturing to her to go outside the tent. The Gorequeen walked past him, laying eyes to several boons that flooded the camps. From the twisted and fire-forged warshrines carried on the backs of cyclopean ogres, to the savage brayherds of untamed wilds culled by the mightiest Khorngors; to daemon engines known as Skull Cannons, manned by bloodletters and ready to blast the enemy; to even the revered Flesh hounds of Khorne; and finally, the fusion of flesh and metal abominations known only as Soul Grinders: daemons who surrendered their True Names for the sake of restoring their physical forms, marching on iron legs that can mortals beneath them. All surrounded by fresh warriors and cultists bearing the Mark of Khorne on their armors. All pledging their services to her cause right before the walls of Naggarond.

The sensation of contentment quelled any outrage and irritation she had prior, replacing the scowl with a bloodthirsty grin that even the sternest dwarf would shudder from.

"Perhaps I am able to assist Kharnath, after all…" She said out loud, looking at the Bloodthirsters growing frustrated with the defenses of Naggarond's walls, followed by the furies flocking over them alongside the hounds.

(Rated M for Morathi)

Hours later… elsewhere on the road…

In any moment, the harsh winds would have proven to be a death sentence to anyone exposed to the elements. For Morathi, she didn't even register the cold thanks to an unseen layer of magic wrapping her entire body and her dark pegasus, Sulephet's; keeping both of them warm and unharmed by Naggaroth's deadly frost.

Her steed galloped across the skies, searching for the enigmatic warrior. And the other two that accompanied him, but they were secondary to her objectives. Scrying through the thick white landscape, Morathi could scour naught but predators and warbands seeking unfortunate prey who cross their paths. The sorceress didn't bat an eye and traversed the snowy plains with distant thought. It was fortunate that the blizzard upended and vanished, for it made Morathi's visions all the more easy to find the fabled man.

Thinking back on the blood hag's report in Har Ganeth, she wondered how the city managed to prevail against a savage horde filled to the brim with a daemonic host at their behest. The city would have laid waste within a fortnight. Her thoughts then veered to the strange knight. Out of the three, it had to be him, Alith was a feared man amongst the druchii, but he didn't fit the description of someone who can take on a Bloodthirster by his lonesome. Hellebron, while just as bloodthirsty as the worshippers of Khorne, was no match to face a greater daemon that embodied wrath and violence.

No, it had to be him. No one could have turned the tide and defended an entire city by himself. Let alone, fight off against an army of murderous marauders and terrible beasts.

And that enticed her search. All of the information she gained and witnessing the devastation he brought upon the arrogant corsairs within only a week, Morathi was just looking to get ahold of this absolute juggernaut of a man for herself. Rarely was there a single being who would arouse her interest. Like gold to a dragon, Morathi was on the prowl for him. Ensnare what she found, and then hoard it to herself. She was already planning all sorts of things when she had him in clutches. A few chains to keep him restrained, some runes to quell his mind, and praises whispered into his ear to keep him happy will be more than enough to keep him… domesticated.

Yes, she thought, he would be a fine specimen to her harem. No, he would be her prime consort to strike fear to any who dare threaten her and her son's rule. A prize weapon with the perks of being her toy.

(Stygia - Metal: Hellsinger ft. Alissa White-Gluz of Arch Enemy)

She broke from her thoughts as somewhere in the distance, a peculiar sight in the corner of her eye drew to her. A large tide of Flesh Hounds dashing from the north through the thick snow caught her attention. To her admission, they were splendid creatures to behold. Bestial spirits covered in fire, muscle and sinew. Their formations were more organized unlike anything she had seen and sprinted in eerie silence with an almost determined focus. She would love to own such magnificent beasts were it not for her allegiances to the Dark Prince. They were antithesis to her ideals, and not worth the stress of keeping such a rabid thing.

Throwing all thoughts of selfish desire, she silently followed the unusual behavior of the hounds chasing towards the south, clueing in on the prime objective. Obscured by the clouds, Morathi was more than safe from the danger below. All the way, she followed their path, intuition telling her to keep going. Flying just above the cliff sides where the hounds traveled through a canyon, Morathi's instincts were rewarded when they exited and discovered a dark mass riding through Road of Skulls from the east.

It was smaller than the hounds and the sounds of whinnies and shouting were a dead giveaway. It was them, alright. Already casting a scrying spell, her eyes scoped on the riders, and to her disappointment, there was only the combined force of shadow warriors and Har Ganeth riders led by Alith and Hellebron respectively, but no Doom Slayer. Was he abandoned by his peers? Or did he abandon them? Unlikely, she thought, for it was clear that this alliance wouldn't have existed for a reason.

Morathi, rather than intervene, simply indulged herself by watching from afar, letting the event unfold itself. The hounds howled as they sighted their prey. The Asur-Druchii force responded by whipping their horses to hasten as the beasts tailed them. Elves took to bow and uraithens, sending a hail of arrows back at the slobbering things. Most managed to hit their targets, falling down and trampled by the rest, but the hounds were far too numerous to take out. The more determined and ferocious of them caught up, only for the elves to fight back with steel. The few hounds who were lucky managed to pounce and pull down their prey, both rider and horse, and swarmed them with their numbers. The horde eventually circled around them save for the front. The elves fought a desperate and losing battle, trying their all to keep the dogs away from them, dwindling as the hounds coordinated attacks on the gaps and weak points, with Alith launching his arrows from his Moonbow and Hellebron lashing out with the Deathsword.

The Hag Sorceress did not lift a finger, only planning to do so when there was only Alith and Hellebron. She amused the idea of just letting the two die and reporting back to Malekith their deaths. It could make him happy and alleviated during stressful times, with Alith's especially. However, it would more than likely earn her his wrath more than anything.

It was a coin toss, really.

She watched with apathy at the dwindling party, falling prey to the endless sea of red pressing into them. Just as they were at their darkest hour, a dark blip was spotted by Morathi as it sprinted behind the hounds. A lone rider, mounted on a Cold One. Suddenly, a chain of fire bursted from somewhere before the rider launched himself into the mass. With her magic, Morathi locked and enhanced her sights.

Her breath hitched and a manic smile showed on her face as the sorceress recognized him to be none other than the Doom Slayer, jumping into the fray and killing daemons with a roaring blade before casting fire with his staves. Morathi watched with awestruck wonder as the man bravely jumped over and slaughtered the dogs with raw power and fury. Such strength and skill, she thought.

Khorne's pets, now aware of the pursuer, divided as they stayed away from him and his companions. Unsurprisingly, the surviving elves had free range to maneuver and escape with their lives. Doom Slayer, rather than group up with the others, simply continued his slaughter on the dogs of Chaos with his chain. A baffling behavior that would raise concerns from any sane person. For Morathi, sanity was a cage for the unwilling, and only the unchained can break from their prisons. This Slayer had torn his sanity like paper as he threw himself to the dogs; blasting and slashing into the packs with little thought of self-preservation. And he did it with such style in his carnage that Morathi was mesmerized by his performance. All of which topped off by a single stave that was cylindrical and bulky with a skull-like visage carved onto its side, blowing into the center of the pack. An explosion followed, leaving a horde scattered and Doom Slayer launched into the air.

Time slowed and Morathi witnessed the man soar gracefully towards the other remaining half of the horde, switching weapons to the one with a hook ornament at the end of the barrel. The hook found its target and pulled the Doom Slayer to the next. To slaughter, he went. Rinse and repeat.

Morathi, jaw-dropped and bespectacled by the visceral performance, felt her blood run hot and the hair on her skin froze with goosebumps. Not since Aenarion has she felt the exhilaration revive her cold dead heart for someone so foreign and mysterious, but nonetheless bold against evil. Her loins cried with excitement

"Yes!" She cried with joy. "Death! Oh, what beautiful death you craft! You shall have the honor to claim both my side and chambers!"

Her proclamation could not be heard within the roaring thunderclouds, save for the few Cytharai she venerates and the Dark Prince; a desire the latter find none too pleasing to hear as a whisper of dubious intent.

Morathi watched as the last of the Chaos beasts was decimated from existence by the warrior. Not far from him, the Cold One approached from behind and ran alongside the surprisingly fast Slayer, who hopped onto its back soon after. Concluding their slaughter, the Slayer regrouped with what's left of his allies. It seemed they were in the clear for now, but with Morathi's enhanced sight, it was not so.

A dark cloud was approaching them from the west. It would have appeared uninteresting if foreboding presence. But for Morathi, she could see the bodies of red and eyes burning bright fire within. Swarming en masse were furies led by hulking bloodthirsters. These gargantuans must have caught the scent of the group. No reason to conclude as to why, Morathi thought. She doubt they would pose much of a threat for the Slayer. The others, quite the opposite, as they - despite their longevity and supernatural skills - could not face such an overwhelming force.

Once fickle and apathetic to their plight, the high sorceress had enough of her viewing pleasure. Now, Morathi desired to show her power in the face of destruction. And to also show a bit of a dramatic flair with her entrance. After all, it's not everyday you can impress a stranger, she thought.

While she recited her incantations, down below did the survivors prepare for another battle ahead of them. Hellebron roared a battle cry in Khaine's name, prompting her forces to go into another battle frenzy. Alith likewise did the same, only with heroic resolve and discipline with his troops as they readied their bows. Lastly, the Doom Slayer was deciding on whether to pull out the Chaingun or the BFG; settling on the former instead.

But as the two opposing forces came to a close, lightning flashed across the skies, striking onto the head of Heartrender as it channeled the power Morathi needed to unleash unto the horde of Khorne. The halberd now glowing with unstable energy, Morathi took aim and burst forth black lightning into the direction of the swarm in a scattershot. Every strike hitting its precise target and exploding upon impact. Any other sorceress below her level would have managed perhaps a few good hits, and that is if they managed to survive from imploding in gory fashion. But Morathi reigned supreme in the ways of magic, earning praise and scorn from admirers and rivals alike for her mastery of sorcery.

A knowing smirk cascaded across her face as furies screeched in agony, while bloodthirsters tanked through the pain; flesh still falling off and pouring fiery blood from their wounds. It was not enough to kill them, but the magic was powerful enough to stagger them, crashing into the snow below. The elves and Doom Slayer had paused expressions by the sudden lightning attacks. They turned to find the source of the powers of their savior.

"Oh, don't tell me it's that bit-"

"Yes, Hellebron." Alith exasperated with the high priestess in equal distaste. "Yes, it's her."

"Who?"Asked Hayden, not understanding the pair's disgruntled reactions. The Doom Slayer, meanwhile, cut the conversation short as he wasted no time rushing into the bloodthirsters' staggered forms, not showing an ounce of focus on his companions' concerns. The marine brought out the Super Shotgun and hooked onto the closest daemon within range. The first daemon burst into flames upon contact; its last painful moments spent screaming at having its face being stabbed multiple times before the Doomblade sank into its right eye; killing it. Another bloodthirster had his left leg cleaved just as it was about to stand before Doom Slayer ran across its back and decapitated it with a burst of the Destroyer Blade in mid-air. The third stood back in time and lifted his two-handed battle axe over its head, only for his opponent to dash in the air and blood punch him in the face. Time slowed down as the bloodthirster fell back into the snow again with teeth flying out, while the Doom Slayer caught the humongous axe in his hands and slammed it into its daemonic owner's face again.

Doom Slayer stood back up and witnessed another of bloodthirsters readying their weapons with murderous intent. One held dual axes while another carried a greatsword in its hands. Cracking his knuckles, the Slayer threw himself into the one with the twin axes, landing on its face when it was ready to deliver retribution. The bloodthirster swung its weapons wildly as the marine started brutalizing its face with his fists. The daemon's panicked state inadvertently caused it to attack its fellow with his axes, angering the latter with one swing of its greatsword; bisecting it in two, from head to crotch in bloody fashion. No glory was found as the Doom Slayer had already jumped away and fired off the Meathook into its chest, throwing in a haymaker to its face on impact. The bloodthirster fell back, dropping its sword mid-fall. Landing on the ground, Doom Slayer dashed towards the sword and carried with all of his strength, aiming the blade towards the daemon now recovering. In a great feat of strength, Doom Slayer threw the sword up in the air and - in perfect momentum - threw another blood punch straight to the pummel dead center. The sword flew in the air, reaching impossible velocities right before impaling the dazed daemon into its chest.

The Doom Slayer spared little time to admire his work as one more evaded his sight. The last Bloodthirster stood up, concentrating its wrath on the former until the elves began pelting arrows against its thick skin, followed by a black bolt of lightning striking its face by the sorceress above him. Angered by Morathi's magic, the greater daemon took flight and prepared to strike her only for Doom Slayer to dash towards it, launching himself into the air with a rocket jump and pulling himself again with the Meathook, interrupting the daemon's flight and crashing them both into the ground, missing the elves below within a hair's breadth. The bloodthirster struggled and writhed in pain as the Slayer grabbed ahold of both its wings, tearing them off with inhuman strength in bloody galore. The bloodthirster remained alive but was finished off when the Slayer grabbed it by the horns and snapped its neck after, struggling no longer upon death.

Another victory scored - at the cost of significant lives - in their wake, the elves regrouped as the Slayer approached. Alith and his famed shadow warriors felt relief behind steeled gazes, while the elves of Har Ganeth began to whisper and murmur amongst themselves, growing in awe of the Slayer's abilities. Even Hellebron, most adamant of her skepticism, was completely thrown off by Alith's unique companion. It truly was as if the Avatar of Khaine was walking amongst them, she thought. Perhaps there was divinity beneath that perpetual angry helmet. Sent by the Lord of Murder Himself to walk the earth in His name.

Whatever the case, Hellebron's thoughts were broken by the sound of wings flapping and a horse's neighing, followed by the winds ceasing their blows, gathering everyone's attention to the sky. To the awe of every elf - many a male and some female in their gazes -, descending to the ground and mounted on her pegasus laid the most beautiful elf to exist. Of her admirers, only four remained unwavering to her beauty. Alith Anar who didn't hide his disdainful and contemptuous glare when she approached; Hellebron who was no different to the former, though, with little effort in putting a curtly smile. And then there was Hayden and Slayer. The former who, even if he had his body back, would have simply raised an eyebrow at this unknown but clearly dangerous woman approaching them, but also having a good guess as to what Alith and Hellebron were talking about. As for Doom Slayer, he was remotely disinterested but also wary of this strange woman's next agenda; prompting him to reload his Super Shotgun in case.

Even in this harsh winter, she seemed unaffected by frostbite as her skin was exposed to the elements in revealing gear one can find only in a heavy metal album cover. Succubus was the proper way to describe her. She had a sultry and seductive air to her that could make the most celibate of men fall over for her. Alabaster skin so perfect and flawless that not even snow ever made contact to the touch. A great mass of ebony hair, weaved and braided so intricately on top of her scalp, rose above the three massive pairs of horns that curled with purpose and power. Cold blue eyes pierced beyond the freezing winds, always looking at those that bend the knee before her. The druchii were the easiest to submit, while the Shadows of Nagarythe resisted even as their will struggled, with only the presence of Alith and their undying hatred for their dark cousins willing them back to their senses. Black glossy lips curled into an amused smirk, indulging in the attention around her, before approaching the persons of interests.

"Morathi." Said Hellebron, cold in her voice with vile contempt as she uttered her rival's name. The raven-haired sorceress uttered faint, mocking laughter in return.

"My, my, Hellebron." Mocked Morathi. "Is that any way to treat your savior? Was my hand not enough to receive a warm reception? The others seem to think so."

"Oh, please. Your contribution was… last minute. Hardly noticeable until you started a lightshow, I bet. Don't flatter yourself." Hellebron said, with an almost passive-aggressive tone to combat the High Sorceress' smugness, causing the latter to smack her lips in dismay.

"Excuses, excuses…" Said Morathi, turning her eyes on Alith. This time, with an even colder reception. "Alas, I cannot speak the same for… him."

"Pleasant to see you as well, Hag. But not really." Alith replied, causing the sorceress to bristle and turn her smug grin into a baleful glare. And somehow, it was still beautiful to any beholder. The perks of consorting with daemons. In some ways, there was amusem*nt to be found as Doom Slayer observed. The animosity was clear, and Alith was barely hiding her revulsion and teeth underneath that dour sneer of his.

"Ugh. Such a cold opening. You could do better than that." Morathi groaned. That demeanor changed as soon as she laid eyes on the monolithic Doom Slayer. She approached with uncharacteristic haste, walking past a befuddled Alith and getting up-close and personal with his partner. Doom Slayer seemed ready to start another firefight when he saw the unexpected.

"At long last~!" She exclaimed with utter enthusiasm. "I finally have the pleasure to meet you! In the flesh, no less~!"

Doom Slayer was taken aback by her exclamation, and so did the others. Both Alith and Hellebron had looks of confusion and bewilderment drawn upon them. Hayden, likewise, seemed to show his surprise as he spoke.

"D-...Do I know you…?"He asked, mimicking the Slayer's thoughts. A sly grin from her said it all.

"Oh no, don't be silly~!" She waved off. "That would be ridiculous! Let's just say I'm an admirer from afar! But I know enough about you, tall, dark and handsome~."

"...what."Said Hayden as he processed what she just said. Doom Slayer, meanwhile, was rolling his eyes as he was mentally resigned to the torment that awaited him in the most unwanted but predictable fashion: a woman's thirst.

People - the ones that were as normal and human as they could be - worshiping him as a symbol of Hope and Living Retribution against Evil was one thing, it was another to deal with the more… suggestive ones. Doom Slayer just couldn't bear another Elena Richardson. Only this time, it had to be an evil witch who was aiming for an unsavory appetite.

Morathi gasped and said, "Oh! Where are my manners? I am Morathi. Hag-Sorceress of Ghrond. First of the Hag-Queens. Queen-Mother to the Witch-King, Malekith, and to All of the Druchii. Not to mention, the Fairest Beauty of the Worlde! Second to none, if I say so myself~!"

She emphasized the last title with a leery gaze followed by the biting of her lip. The hunger in her eyes was not lost on the Doom Slayer, getting too close for comfort as she tried to wiggle her way in.

"And you are the Doom Slayer."

"You know… me…?" Asked Hayden, Doom Slayer raising a brow in mimicking fashion.

"Word travels fast around here~." Morathi answered, "And you have built quite a reputation around here. And in only just a week~."

Morathi was doing not-so-subtle gestures like pressing her breasts together with both her arms to get his attention. "I am just so glad you would come all this way to Naggaroth. And seeing a prime specimen such as yourself up close… mmm~!"

Oh God, thought Doom Slayer. Was this really the time to do so?

To no one's surprise, the sorceress started clinging onto his right arm, where much of his skin was most exposed.

"Very impressive~." Said Morathi, wrapping her fingers around the exposed, bulging biceps; feeling the hard surface of his flesh. "Bet the same goes for what you're hiding down there~.

Doom Slayer groaned as the woman got very touchy and tried to get as much skin contact with him. Unintentionally - probably intentional -, his arm was sliding between her proud bosom as she pressed in further. There was a mischievous glint reflected in her eyes that made it clear that she was doing this purposefully to exude interests out of him.

Hayden connected to the inner sound system and spoke directly to Doom Slayer."I am… going to be direct with you and tell you that this sort of thing she has is not my forte. So do whatever you want. However you want. I'll be sure to make an excuse."

With that clearance - not that he really needed any sort permission -, Doom Slayer pulled himself away from the sorceress, earning surprise and confusion from her.

"Wha-?"

"Ma'am."Hayden spoke up."Given the dire circ*mstances, I am not remotely interested in your proposition. Nor do I have time wasted to ìndulge in your proclivities. Right now, my priorities are to meet with your king. So that Alith and I may discuss matters of importance."

Doom Slayer's body language said it all and worked in tandem with Hayden's voice, signaling his displeasure. The combined skills of both brought out one of the most amusing reactions out of Morathi. Already, she was blinking rapidly, signs of denial clear in her faltering smile.

"I-I don't understand." Morathi said with uncertainty. "S-Surely, this is some sort of jest. I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime."

"I don't even know you. Nor am I inclined to trust you. And as far as impressions go, I condemn what you and your people do to others. So no. I willnottake up on your offer."

All traces of lust and pride disappeared from Morathi's face. Now replaced with all sorts of emotions in Morathi's head. Shock, outrage, anger, displeasure, grief, scorn and other terrible feelings. All in just one eye twitch.

Doom Slayer had to admit that was a not-so-bad insult. Alith probably seemed to enjo-

"Wait, why is Alith moving away? And why are the others doing the same?"He thought as he noticed the elves stepping back.

While Doom Slayer was wondering why the elves were getting so spooked, a rush of emotions blindsided Morathi like a slap to the face. Anger, shock, umbrage, melancholy, incense and other terrible feelings. Out of every unmistakable outcome, when all others would have happily agreed like idiot savants, Morathi had not expected the one thing that could wound her worse than any blade in this world.

Rejection.

A feeling so strong and terrible to cut her so deeply that she could not convey the amount of sorrow and anguish by that savage comment. Except for a lightning bolt bursting from her hand.

Doom Slayer was thrown back into the snow, crashing, but quickly rolling in motion. He stood up once and turned back to face the sorceress, whose eyes now burned with dark magic and scorn. All around, the winds immediately changed and created a vortex, trapping the survivors to face Morathi's wrath.

"So it is true?!" Cried Morathi. "You and that damned prince are here to take my son away from me?! To destroy all that we have plotted for so long?! How much did those pathetic eunuchs in Ulthuan pay you?! A thousand gold?! Millions?! Well, no amount of it will save you for what I am about to put you through!"

Doom Slayer pulled out the Super Shotgun and shot the Meathook, only for Morathi to grab hold of the tip, with dark lightning hitting her halberd and channeling through the chains, causing unbearable pain for the Slayer. Morathi's wrath knew no bounds and began to speak incantations, causing agony for everyone within earshot. Blood seeping and pouring from every orifice, followed by pained gurgles. The voice was too loud to the ear drums, bursting them from every elf's.

And then came the pop. Each head on every elf burst into a shower of blood and brain, for the blood-curdling screeches of Morathi's spellcasting were too much. And as if they were finally released upon death, whether to be sent to Ereth Khial's realm or the Dark Prince's Palace of Pleasures, their souls would be dragged and siphoned to create a powerful. Not even Hellebron and Alith were spared of the incantations, their souls wailing and weeping as they were reaped by the Sorceress Supreme herself. In under one spell, the Sorceress used it all to summon forth a star beyond the skies. The sky above twisted and warped to reveal a black hole, the void so dark that no light entered… save for one in the dead center of it. Morathi watched as the Marine scrambled to get back up, only for black tendrils she had conjured erupt from the ground and entangled his limbs. The sorceress gleefully relished the Doom Slayer's final moments, struggling with strangled screams as the light from the black pit in the sky grew larger and larger, for a red comet descended and crushed the very warrior beneath its power and weight.

The Sorceress cackled in her maddened indulgence as the skies of Naggaroth danced with lightning and Dhar. What a pity it was to chase a man, Morathi thought. But a waste to chase him this whole ti-

"Ma'am?"

Morathi blinked into existence as she was brought back to her dark fantasies. She was back to staring at the Doom Slayer, who looked expectantly but kept his weapon in hand. Behind them, the elves were sweating and worrying about the next event. Remembering where she was, Morathi could do nothing but hold her breath.

"Leave me to my thoughts." She stated, walking past the Doom Slayer, much to everyone's befuddled expressions. The sorceress disappeared into the thick and impenetrable winds, leaving only footprints soon covered by snow. Doom Slayer looked back to Alith Anar, sharing a glance followed by shrugged shoulders.

Then, a rod of lightning struck from a distance, with horrifying wails and curses that were incomprehensible to mortal ears, fortunate to not be in closing distance. Moments passed as a spectacular light show greeted them from where Morathi was presumably located. Shadows in against the light revealed the terrifying flailing and convulsing form of Morathi throwing what was essentially a temper tantrum.

Doom Slayer went back to Alith, sharing his exasperation, who was more than impressed by the former's fortitude. The same could be said of Hellebron, though, hers had a more gratified smirk to it.

"Shall we move?"

"Best we do." Alith replied to Hayden. "I can't stand being with the bitch any longer. Let's get moving."

"Too late." Hellebron added, much to their disappointment. "She's back."

And as she correctly deduced, the Hag-Sorceress had returned. This time, as Doom Slayer noted, there was neither the look of objectification towards him, nor the smug glances she gave to others she viewed as beneath. Simply an aura of cold professionalism as she approached the three. She cleared her throat and said, "Your activities and reputation have reached the ears of the Witch-King. And for that, he has sent me to retrieve you. But we all know that whatever charade all three of you are playing at will not work in your favor. And especially from me. For that, you're going to have to keep up with me. Unless you prefer to bask in the cold plains, soon to be your graves."

"Is there no other means of a shortcut?"Hayden logically questioned.

"Oh, there is." She answered, turning her back to Sulephet. "I just don'twantto."

The three expressed their disapproval in various degrees. Alith and Doom Slayer, hardly different from one another, groaned with soured grimaces, while Hellebron looked ready to implode, grinding her teeth when salvation was so close in the damnable cold. As Morathi rode up on Sulephet's back, she returned another glance back at the Slayer. Her spurned interest clashing with his uncaring distrust, Morathi brushed her thoughts off and rode into the skies.

"Try and keep up! I would rather not disappoint my son if I have gone empty-handed!" She called out to the rest, prompting them to get back on their beasts of burdens. As Doom Slayer went for his, Hayden spoke into the intercoms and said,"Probably should have played along with her. But we both know that this is beneath us. And so is she."

For once, Doom Slayer agreed.

Chapter 15: Malum Mortis

Chapter Text

Unknown

Aliathra's body shot back up to rejuvenation, gasping for air. Delirious, the elf princess' vision was rather bleary from the start. Not helped by how dark it was at the moment. Even so, she did try to stand only to fumble forward. How long had she been asleep, she could not tell. Strangely, she felt something binding her wrists and legs.

She then felt something grab her, startling her and almost shrieked before the person in front of her spoke.

"C-Calm down!" Hushed the woman, speaking in Eltharin to the girl. "I'm not trying to hurt you."

Surprised to hear how gentle the voice was, Aliathra halted and her eyes were now quickly readjusting to the dank and grimy room around them. With only a torch hanging onto a wall opposite of them, Aliathra took a good look at the woman in front of her. It was a human, appearing in her prime. Pretty and not bad in the eyes, but probably average-looking to an elf. Her dark brown locks were in messy tangles and there appeared to be dirt on her face. Her white robes were equally dirty as well, covered in the same filth and grime as the room. Suddenly another woman came into view.

"Are you alright?" Asked the other woman, also speaking in Eltharin but with a distinct Bretonnian accent. Where the brunette was simply 'pretty' so to speak, Aliathra was somewhat struck by how beautiful this woman looked to an almost supernatural level. Golden hair and bright green eyes with a face that could rival the Sisters of Averlorn, only just a step below her mother's beauty. Though, such grace was hindered by the grime on her face and white robes. Like Aliathra, both women were bound by shackles, limiting their movement quite a bit. Looking closely, there were runes carved onto the metals that Aliathra did not recognize. They were nothing like the ones she had seen in Uncle Teclis' studies and grimoires. Far eerie and malevolent to the eyes.

"W-Who are you?" Aliathra asked. There was a pain in her voice, almost dried and parched. The brunette hushed her and said, "Be still. You have been asleep for a full two days."

"T-Two days?" Aliathra murmured before she was handed a cup of water. "H-How can it be?"

"You were captured. Like us." Answered the blonde. "I am Morgiana Le Fay. Fay Enchantress of Bretonnia. The woman here is Elspeth. A priestess of Shallya from the Empire."

"The F-Fay Enchantress?" Alithra was dumbfounded, recognizing the woman's revered status in her respective lands. "But how-"

"A series of misfortunes happened." Sighed Morgiana. "And I am stuck here as you are."

"And we're not the only ones either," Elspeth added, which was followed by voices coming from the opposite cell.

"Oi! Did I hear our new friend was awake? Name's Sindst! What's yours?" Sindst asked, speaking in Reikspiel and completely unaware of Aliathra's native language. Thankfully, the girl was already taught in multiple languages before capture. As for the man himself, he was the exact opposite of Aliathra's female company. While not exactly unpleasant in the eyes, the man seemed scruffy and had unkempt bushy hair. A fuzz for a beard was growing, but overall, the man was rather unassuming at best to look at. Right up until Aliathra quickly noticed that the man had no limbs whatsoever. She was a little disturbed, to put it mildly. Noticing the odd looks the man seemed to take notice as well and cheerfully said, "It's not so bad to look at. Barring a few itches I can't reach, I've had the most wonderful service catered to me. I've even got Old Dog here to cater to my whims."

"Shut it before you wake up the dead, you damn limbless thief!" Another voice erupted beside Sindst, coming off more like an animalistic growl than a normal human sound. Said man was burly and scary to behold. He was more wolf than man; his face was wild with a long red mane and beard to add to his fierce visage. His clothing was down to that of a torn gambeson; his armor was more than likely removed before imprisonment. One look from the man's gaze and Aliathra looked away in fright at how savage his glare was. Elspeth reached to her and calmed the elf.

"Do not be so quick to anger, Olf Doggert." A third voice interrupted, calm and reasonable to the ear. "Like us, the girl has suffered through the terrible fate that she now shares. Lashing will do you no favors, Wolf."

"Like Hells I can't!" Sneered Olf. "Hellspawns killed my brothers like Cravens while I am to live with the knowledge of their bodies left for the crows to feast upon! Do I not deserve to howl for blood and vengeance?!"

"Morr has heard your grief, Wolf." The man calmly replied, giving sympathy to his companion. "I will send my prayers to Him to guide your brothers safely to his Gardens."

Olf said nothing after hearing the man. The latter finally gave his attention towards Aliathra, revealing himself under torchlight. It was an elderly man in dark robes. His head was shaved down to the scalp, leaving nothing to the imagination. Yet, what drew Aliathra's attention the most were the tattoos that were inked on said man's face. Like writings in a scripture, letters dotted across the man's face. The significance of which may have held some importance, Aliathra thought.

"As for you, my lady", the man said politely, "I don't believe we've introduced ourselves properly; my name is Mordevaul Cadavion. A humble priest of Morr. My two fellows, you already know as Sindst - a humble thief - and Olf Doggert, a knight of the White Wolf. Tell us what's yours?"

Aliathra kept quiet for a moment. She was very much hesitant to say to these new faces but ultimately relented in the face of kindness given to her.

"Aliathra." She said softly. "Everchild of Ulthuan."

"Then I am honored to be in your presence, Everchild." Mordevaul said with a respectful bow. As for the others, there were looks of surprise on their faces. Morgiana was the first to express this, "Then my suspicions are correct, it seems. We have all been gathered here for some nefarious scheme."

"But why us?" Elspeth raised. "What is it that connects us despite not being remotely connected at all?"

"I do not know." Morgiana frowned. "But with the Everchild here and me, I can take a good guess as to why."

Aliathra, intrigued and curious about the Fay Enchantress' deduction, tried to speak up until she heard a loud commotion coming from the halls of the prison. The noise itself came from a man speaking loudly in Reikspiel with evident anger and fervour. Aliathra jumped in fear when she quickly recognized the monstrosity before. A beast she thought would stay in her nightmares. Black as the stone on the walls and burly as an ox, with only its bony white face barely visible against the torchlight. Its hunched form did not dissuade its size, only making it more predatorial in a manner. In its large beastly hands, it dragged a screaming man across her cell.

"-AME OF SIGMAR, I DEMAND YOU TO RELEASE ME FROM THESE CHAINS, FOUL DAEMONS! I CURSE YOU AND YOUR ILK IN ETERNAL DAMNATION FOR LAYING YOUR HANDS ON THE GRAND THEOGONIST! UNHAND ME AT ONCE!" He furiously spouted, violently resisting his captor. Aliathra had gotten a look at the man, revealing a bald, grizzled but stern-eyed priest with a white beard and mutton chops; a scar noticeably running down his right eye which only added to his fierce visage. Behind him, two smaller, brown-skinned creatures were dragging another man not far. On him was armor of excellent quality. Adorned in black and gold schemed, with the heraldry of an angry sun on his chest. He did not seem at all conscious at the moment, though. Whether he was knocked out during the battle or struggled against his captor was moot. The two men were thrown into another cell, right next to the other three. The beasts themselves chattered and growled as the Grand Theogonist continued shouting religious vitriols back at him. The huge black beast roared back in anger, causing the other mortals to recoil and block their ears. Volkmar, however, stood defiantly in the face of a demonic servant.

"Do you think I have not stared into the face of damnation before, foul daemon?" Volkmar rhetorically stated. "I have struck down your unholy ilk the likes of which only Sigmar would rise from His Throne and cast his hammer down upon your wretched existence!"

Upon speaking his defiance, the gargantuan beast was ready to tear the man with its claws until another figure came forward.

"Nay! Not that gent. Not any of these folk. These might not but liveth." He said, revealing his unnatural state. To the ignorant and ungifted, he could very much stand out as a pale-looking if regal noble with heraldry not unlike those of the Empire. But to those who have seen through the glamour, they would know him to be a vicious creature of the night. Born of dark magic and death. A vampire.

His appearance was decked in a black set of platemail. While not nearly as refined nor artistic compared to Asur blacksmithing, the armor possessed a miasma of evil magic around it to compensate for its design. The spikes that jutted out of his back, however, may have overcompensated its intimidation a bit.

"Screameth thy lungs all thee wanteth. Nay one shall cometh to saveth thee." Gloated the vampire. Glancing to the side, he noticed Aliathra was now conscious.

"And I seeth yond the issue is anon awaken from her longeth slumber." Said the vampire in a rather archaic form of Reikspiel. "How wast thy rest? Thee might not but best famished."

Looking down at Aliathra, the vampire flashed his grotesque fangs. Aliathra recoiled upon seeing such horrific things; reeling and crawling into the safety of Elspeth's embrace. The vampire smirked, gleefully scenting the despair of the elf.

"Cower in another's arms. Fleeth to the dark corners. Thy destiny shalt await in times passing."

"And just what sort of destiny will exactly await us, vampire?" Morgiana ruefully questioned, which only humored the bald undead even more.

"To serve as a conduit to awaited divinity." Spoke the proud vampire. "Where I shall bask in the glory of mine own master's returneth. As thee all knoweth so well."

This brought a rebuke from the battered Sigmarite priest. "If you think bringing back Vlad von Carstein will legitimize your claim to the grave, you know better than to stand against the Empire itself! We have advanced far beyond your twisted burials and cemeteries in the past five centuries! Our faith in Sigmar remains, but it is our steel and gunpowder that carry us forward! To victory! Your reign will be short-lived, Mannfred von Carstein!"

"So I have witnessed from afar." The vampire bemoaned; his displeasure plain on his face. "And I'll admit, I might not but giveth merit to thy people's evolution. Those gents have cometh so far, forsooth. However, tis not mine own father yond I speaketh of. In this very tower thee reside in lies the power of warpstone. Hath built upon the backs of slaves - both living and undeath -, and hath used in its very foundation. All crafted and forged by the very first master of necromancy."

Upon hearing this, Mordevaul's face ran pale with horror and plead, "No! It cannot be! That is insanity you are dabbling!"

"Oh aye, augurer. Thee knoweth who I speaketh of. The architect of unliving himself: Nagash!" Gloated the vampire. "And with the aid of mine own new benefactors, thy empires and kingdoms shalt falleth down liketh twigs under the feet of the undeath!"

Hearing the proclamations, the cells ran cold with dread. Even Volkmar, a man of fiery fervor and righteous fury, possessed a look of quivering fear and despair.

"You are trifling with powers beyond your control, Mannfred." Morgiana sternly said, stoic in her resolve. "Nagash is not some pet necromancer like your servant, Ghorst. And these creatures you have made bed with do not hold to your vile intentions. You will fail. This I very much predict."

The vampire scoffed and sneered at the Enchantress. "Speaketh all thee wanteth. But these new cater-cousins art more malleable and straightforward than the spawns of chaos. Oh aye, those gents has't did provide most wondrous service to our conquest."

Mannfred gestured the creatures away; obeying without question. As they passed, Olf snarled quietly at them; something that did not unnoticed as the largest beast snarled in kind. Out of sight, Aliathra - who remained quiet up until this point - spoke up finally.

"W-what will you do with us?" She asked in a quivered tone. She received a bemused laugh and was answered. "Is't not gross in sense? Each and ev'ry one thee shall shalt beest hath used to power the Most Wondrous Necromancer himself."

"Right, but how exactly are we connected?" Sindst interrupted. "I mean I get a bunch of pretty lasses is the norm, and a couple of priests is a second go-to. But what the hells do a pair of knights and a humble thief like me got to do with this? Doesn't seem to add up, if you ask me."

"Astute, forsooth." Mannfred agreed. "The sooth is, thee have all been did select for a specific reason. Besides the enchantress and the elf for obvious reasons, the rest of thee were chosen because of thy bloodlines. Divinity runs in thy veins. Aye. Coequal a lowly cut-purse such as this one here. Though, yond wouldst beest giving praise considering thou art a sir of Ranald. So bethink not thee can runneth from this. Presentation, notwithstanding."

A frown appeared on Sindst's face, not at all humored by Mannfred's insinuations, but made no objections about it. Suddenly, a flash of red glow came, urging the vampire to his attention. It stood a man, though, much withered and decayed. A literal corpse were it not for the Winds of Shyish flowing through his body. A noose hanged around his neck and tattered red vest, followed by a collection of bat wings covering his waist and legs. A pair of gauntlets covered his hands, with only a pauldron covering his left shoulder. The cowl he wore did nothing to hide the ghoulish expression that was his face.

"What news doest thou bring, Ghorst?"

"Master." Ghorst addressed. "The prowlers have reported a small number of carriages heading from the southeast of Sylvania. They bear the mark of the Lahmians."

"Thanketh thee for imparting this, my faithful." Mannfred thanked. "I might not but wend anon and treateth mine own guests. I'll beest sure to maketh thy stayeth as miserable as the robes the moths shall feedeth upon."

The vampire laughed with mockery in tone. Volkmar pushed against his cell's bars and yelled, "THERE IS NO VICTORY IN YOUR WAKE, VAMPIRE! ONLY DEATH AND SUFFERING!"

"Oh yes." Mannfred replied. "Death and suffering upon thee."

(The Eternal Throne - Darksiders 2 OST)

Sylvania

The carriage rocked as it hit a bump on the road, fouling Neferata's ever-growing annoyance. Naaima barked at the driver from the side window for his carelessness to quell the ill thoughts plaguing her mistress' mind since they left Silver Pinnacle. Mannfred's latest scheme would be the doom of every single being in the world: bringing Nagash to the mortal planes. The thought not only sickened Neferata, but it also enraged her. The damned Von Carsteins were always trying to take over the world through force and an army of corpses. Astonishing display but impractical in the grand scheme. It would undermine not only their existence but every other vampire as well. Especially Neferata and her precious Lahmians.

And it wasn't just because she feared the First Necromancer out of genuine concern for the mortals. For uncounted millennia, Neferata had been a master of the Long Game. From the shadows, she pulled strings, manipulated pawns and tools to great effect, and had her servants infiltrate and guarantee high positions in almost every human society she could take advantage of. Neferata rose to the top to where she was now, and she damn well enjoyed it. And to have this all toppled to the ground because of damned Mannfred put her in the foulest of moods.

"You do not seem well, my lady."

"How can you tell?" Neferata dryly replied to an observant Naaima, staring out the window. "Was it my silence that you took notice of? Or was it my brows that are fixed in a permanent glare?"

"There is no fault for how you feel, mistress." Naaima spoke sympathetically. "Mannfred's ambition was troubling to read. Though, I must ask, is this a sound idea? Accepting Count Mannfred's invitation simply to berate him?"

"I suppose assassinating him would be tempting." Neferata spoke out her thoughts, earning a headshake from Naaima, "But for now, we will engage in his hospitality. And while we're at it, you or one of our own must gather any information on Mannfred's intentions. Talk to the guests, snoop around, observe any suspicious activity, etcetera, etcetera."

"Sound strategy, my lady." Naaima responded, "I will gladly fulfill my duties."

"That's too kind of you." Approved Neferata, "But I would rather you keep me company for this event."

"Understood, mistress." Naaima said, with Neferata looking out from the window after. To say the lands of Sylvania were dark and foreboding was like saying ogres had poor manners. Everyone knows it but someone had to say it. The forest surrounding truly capitulated Sylvania's ghastly reputation as a "corpse country". The scenery quickly changed to that of graves and cemeteries, staple landmarks for necromancers and vampires alike.

And yet, none are so monumental as the great castle on the horizon. Once, a significant capital of the Imperial province itself. Now the seat of decay and ruin. Mannsleib's light cast over the dark outline of the castle. Those who know of its existence - both living and undead, know it by one name.

Castle Drakenhof. Estate of the Von Carsteins. A concentrated nesting ground of power rivaled only by Neferata's base of operations. Something she both envied and admired from this distance.

Neferata let out her disgust. "Ugh. Ever a sore on the eyes."

"The Von Carsteins are not known for their subtlety, my Lady." Naaima commented. "Sooner or later, it will come back to bite them."

"Your quips are getting rather dry, Naaima." Neferata purred. "Try not to exhaust yourself further."

"I simply speak to only entertain your repertoire, Lady Neferata. But as you wish."

"Kind words, dearest Naaima." Neferata finished, looking at the dark castle that grew bigger as they reached the grounds. The gates opened on their own, touched by the magic as the carriages reached past the metal bars. With anticipation, the carriage came to a slow crawl, stopping completely as soon as they reached the castle's doors. On both sides of her vehicle, the Lahmian Sisterhood and their servants immediately left their carriages and began surrounding their mistress's own in an orderly fashion. Neferata exited her carriage with the help of her handmaidens, fixing her posture after sitting in the wagon for gods-know-how-long.

Neferata beheld one long look at the castle once more in its glory. It had been too long since she had come here. Yet, even if it were the same monument for its immortal masters, the air around it felt…off. Few things had ever truly caused fear for Neferata, but this was different. There was indeed magic, but the winds were different in a way. It was nothing like the magic she was familiar with. Around Sylvania, at least. It was not Shyish as she felt earlier ago. Dhar was certainly crossed off from her suspicions. And the presence of warpstone, despite being far more common around these parts, did not feel potent to detect. This magic felt almost like the heat of a growing fire. But more controlled and contained. Like a furnace being readied in a forge. Not even the magic of Chaos could feel what she sensed. The thin wispy hairs on the back of her neck stood up, warning her of impending danger.

Neferata's foreboding instincts were interrupted as the castle's very doors opened wide and out came one of its inhabitants. She strode through the doors in Sylvanian fashion, adorned in a deep red gown. Ostentatious and reflective of Von Carstein nobility. Her crimson hair had been styled up in two buns resembling the top half of a heart. Neferata took a critical eye at the golden "beard" she wore on her chin; a white cloth attached below it, covering her neck.

The Von Carstein carried herself with graceful air and a calm demeanor. "Greetings, Queen Neferata. Castle Drakenhof is honored by your presence."

"Greetings, Elize," Neferata responded. "I have come with Mannfred's invitation."

Along with murdering him, thought Neferata, keeping with the facade and all.

"Indeed." Said Elize, remaining stoic upon hearing it. "Follow me inside. The other guests are waiting."

The decorum remained the same, vast and ancient save for new and fresh faces on the mortal servants that were busy attending to their duties. How long they will last before they fill a vampire's appetite is anyone's guess. The halls were long and confusing, but for vampires, familiarity becomes a key advantage when you have centuries under your belt. After what felt like forever for a mortal, the Lahmians had arrived at the banquet. Elize opened the doors and revealed the other vampires. All vampires present turned their heads as they saw Neferata's kin, falling silent by their beauty of them.

To Neferata's surprise, she observed that Mannfred had invited more than just the acceptable bloodlines. The vast majority as she expected was the Von Carsteins and the Blood Dragons; both bloodlines mingling about, trading stories and cups of blood to pass the time. She could more than tolerate those two. She, however, did not expect the "others". For every ten Von Carstein and Blood Dragon, there was either a Necrarch or - to her horror - a Strigoi sitting in the corner.

Ghastly as the Necrarchs were, the walking corpses naturally had an aversion for social gatherings and seemed content with simply staying in their little corners or removing themselves elsewhere. The Strigoi, on the other hand, were another issue. Though, not quite as large in numbers as the other vampires, the Strigoi seemed to have huddled themselves as one big group, staying away from their more enlightened cousins as they feasted on what carrion they were given. The other guests ignored them entirely, being mindful as to not laugh in their direction, lest they incur the wrath of these savage beasts.

Yet, such caution was ignored in favor of giving focus to the new arrivals. Neferata felt a measure of gratification as she basked in the attention she and her dearest servants received from everyone. Some like a few von Carsteins and Blood Dragons were attracted by them, others like the female attendants and many of the Strigoi spared no contemptuous resentment back to them. However varied the receptions were, Neferata felt a little bit of her ego stroked to a cooling effect. A wonderful sensation she could never get tired of. Eliza spotted a pair of mortal servants standing in attendance with glasses of blood in hand and snapped her fingers to gain their attention. The two did not hesitate and approached.

Neferata snatched the first cup closest to her and drank the red liquid deeply. She felt a bit of her energy rejuvenated upon sating her thirst. Lowering the cup, she wiped the corner of her mouth with a thumb, her mind a little relieved. The rest of her maidens soon took their pickings, indulging in the wine spice mixed into the blood. As Neferata's kin was partaking in the blood-tasting, another servant approached Eliza and whispered into her ear. Neferata's heightened senses allowed her to hear the words, "The servants say Lord Mannfred has just arrived. Along with the… others."

Just the way the servant said 'others' roused some suspicion due to how nervous he was. Eliza nodded and turned to Neferata, who smoothly feigned ignorance of any eavesdropping.

"My apologies, Lady Neferata, but I must prepare for Count Mannfred's arrival. Please help yourselves around the banquet. There's plenty of bloodwine here."

"You're too kind, Elize." Neferata feigned praises. Elize then turned to the crowd and announced, "Count Mannfred will arrive shortly. Wait a moment. Please enjoy your stay here."

Without much ado, the Von Carstein doyenne left the banquet with grace. Neferata's maids quickly scouted for seatings for their mistress. A few admiring von Carsteins emptied one table for the Lahmians to take a seat. Neferata's servants were cautious of the invitation, ready to pull out steel daggers sheathed in their extravagant clothes. Their mistress, however, raised a hand; signalling them to cease hostilities. She took her seat, followed by Naaima sitting beside her. The rest of the Sisters stood by, not letting anyone come near their mistress. The Von Carsteins distanced themselves, but Neferata could see the enamored gazes they had before disappearing into the crowd. She was amused, to say the least, but also saw the opportunity in it as well.

Snapping her fingers, the Lahmians snapped to attention. Neferata leaned forward and whispered, "Go on and mingle about."

They all nodded, to which they understood as "gather information", and quickly fanned out, with only Naaima staying beside her mistress. Her servants blended well in the crowd, confident that they will return with new secrets.

"Seems rather uneventful." Naaima quietly passed the knowledge on to Neferata. "But I suppose we are a bit early to the party."

"Very astute, dearest Naaima." Her mistress playfully teased. "But I believe we're on time."

Naaima flashed a small but genuine smile but was quickly alerted by the presence of someone coming their way. Neferata turned in time to see a vampire in full-crimson plate mail. He showed no sign of reaction towards the Queen of Lahmia, only a permanent grimace. Even among vampires, few dared to challenge his authority and his ferocity as grandmaster of the Blood Dragons.

"Walach Harkon."

"Neferata." Greeted Walach, words cutting through as he did with a sword. "Care if I join you this evening?"

Such blatant disrespect from a lesser being would have been torn apart by either Neferata or her servants as Naaima would; preparing to pull the blade hidden in her sleeve. Neferata, however, had known the knight long enough to match wits with him, seeing his honesty being oddly a breath of fresh air. She placated a hand over her faithful companion, refraining from provocation. Instead, the Queen raised a brow and asked, "I never took you for someone who would seek female company. Are the boys boring you already?"

"Rest assured, my prick is reserved only for women." He replied, earning a snort from Neferata. "As for my knights, they know how to behave. Especially around your handmaidens."

"That's a relief." She snarked, "Fine. You may have an audience with me."

The Blood Knight sat amicably, placing his cup on the table.

"I take it you did not come all this way to find joy in Mannfred's latest scheme?"

"Oh. Oh no. Quite the opposite." Neferata stirred her cup as she nursed the murderous thoughts inside her head. "What he's planning may be the death of us all."

"I concur." Walach agreed. "The others seem to think so as well. Save for the Necrarchs, everyone else is in fear of the Necromancer's return."

"Then what is stopping the rest from sabotaging Mannfred's plans altogether?" Neferata whispered, keeping herself and her kin out of the conversation. Walach smirked and said, "Well, from my observations, I'd say it has something to do with his new 'friends'."

Neferata raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'friends'?"

"You'll see." Walach cryptically answered. Just then, the entrance opened. The entire room grew silent as guests turned to the host of this main event.

Mannfred Von Carstein. The lord who gathered them all here, with everyone save for the Blood Dragons wanting to know what the scheme he concocted was this time. Nagash's return was already an open secret at this rate. No point in hiding, Neferata thought. However, the clear look of confidence on his face seemed to speak of something else entirely. He was already outfitted in his suit of armor, implying war was imminent. One that Neferata found displeasing.

"Greetings, thy honored guests!" Mannfred addressed. "I am pleased to see thou atten-"

"Could you speak properly instead of that weird flowery crap you keep spouting about? Most of us can't understand a single word you just said!" Walach brazenly heckled, earning a lot of attention from the other attendants. Some glared at the affront that was given to the lord. Others had amused looks but kept quiet to not earn Mannfred's wrath as he was now expressing. Fortunately, he only showed a smouldering glare and kept his anger to a simmer.

"Fine," Mannfred growled, none too pleased by the Grandmaster's heckle. "I am pleased that everyone has gathered here to witness the pinnacle of our kind's history. You all know what awaits us. The return of our master and the First of the Necromancers: Nagash the Undying!"

The entire crowd began to murmur and whisper amongst each other. Not only did he confirm their suspicions, but he was also declaring with absolute certainty. The reactions of the crowd were…mixed. Like Neferata, most did not wish to serve their lord and were content with the power they had and lording it over the people that served under them. On the other hand, the more vocal supporters, like the Necrarchs, showed eagerness to pledge fealty to the master of undeath.

Of these Necrarchs, Zacharias the Everliving, made his way through the crowd and spoke, "If what you speak is true, Count Mannfred, then how do you propose this plan would come to fruition?"

Mannfred simply laughed under his breath and said, "Allow me to introduce you to my newest friends…"

Stepping to the side, the crowd stood witness to Mannfred's newest guests. To say they were horrified was a complete understatement of their existence. First, it was the sensation that fell through. Neferata felt it before, but now it was palpable. She could see the other guests were recoiling as well. They felt the fear striking down on them just as she did. Those who did not found their hands moving to the hilt of their swords. Close beside her, Naaima moved her hand across her mistress' belly whilst sliding her weapon from underneath her forearm. Even the savage Strigoi backed themselves into a corner as one, barking mad like dogs.

Oddly, the only ones to not be afraid of were Walach and his Order. Of course, they were reputed to be brave and never one to back away from a fight. Yet, it was rather uncharacteristic of them not to even pull out their swords in the face of these new entities.

And then they came. Pouring from the doors were hellish creatures that were not meant to exist. The first to come pouring through the doors were small tannish creatures with spikes jutting from the shoulders. Nimble and wiry to the eye, yet no less a threat to the uninitiated. Next came the larger and more brutish of their kinds. They were hulking masses of muscle and savagery; their heads being literal skulls with sunken amber eyes.

Flashes of purple light almost blindsided the crowd as a gaunt purple creature towered over the nearest group before joining the rest of their ilk.

The aberrants seem to come worse than the last as horrific creatures of flesh and metal. Ranging from hideous brain-like arachnids to giant skeletal beings to ogres with cannons grafted to their limbs.

The smell of brimstone was in the air and overpowered the court's nostrils. The foul smell made the scent of corpses seem like a fresh bed of flowers.

Neferata, already on edge with Mannfred's latest schemes, stood from her seat and exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this, Mannfred?!"

"Calm yourselves, my dearest guests." Spoke Mannfred. "For they are friends from the other side."

"You summoned the daemons of Chaos?!" Neferata recoiled. Hearing this, the undead were in an uproar and quickly raised their weapons and bared their fangs. Likewise, Mannfred's infernal servants were ready to cause chaos as they responded with claw and fang.

It was only when Walach intervened and said, "Hold!"

By his command, the Blood Dragons quickly moved and stood between the vampires and the infernal beasts. Though instead of facing the daemons, the knights faced their undead brethren; swords raised against them.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Zacharias demanded, hands glowing with necromantic magic.

"Silence your tongue, Necrarch!" Walach snapped. "Mannfred desires to explain himself. So save your breath."

The vampire aristocrats were now silent, but brewing tension remained as they felt uncomfortable around this monstrous host. Neferata felt nothing but disgust as not only did Mannfred have a host of daemons behind him, he had now apparently earned the loyalty of the infamous knightly order. Mannfred had an air of confidence flushing over him as he stood proudly and said, "Honored guests, be not afraid of these otherworldly beings. For they do not serve the Powers of Chaos. Indeed, from what I have been told, they hail from a place known as 'Hell'. And they very much prefer to be called by the moniker, 'demons'."

"What difference would it make when they are the same breed of evil?" Neferata spoke in defiance; her guards now surrounding her for her safety.

"Because we do not serve pretenders."Outspoke a demon."Nor are we chained to this world's tethers."

Emerging from the sea of demons and standing next to Mannfred was a corrupted warrior. He stood impressively tall - taller than Walach - and decked in earthy green armor that reminded Neferata of the famous Tilean Pit Fighters. His skin was pale white with corrupt veins seeping from underneath the chest plate protecting his left side, which had a red glow on it. Strange symbols were etched across his armor, with a few significant ones such as the belt buckle. Two pauldrons covered his shoulders, though one larger on his left shoulder with heavy armor down the arm. Two pairs of horns protruded from his bald scalp; the largest curving upwards while the smaller ones curved downwards to the side from the back, with a row of spikes going down the center of their forehead. And though a mask visibly covered his entire mouth, the upper half of his face was exposed to reveal a humanoid skull, with red eyes glowing from their sockets.

Neferata felt wariness in confronting this demon. Even so, she stood with dignity and spoke, "And you? What are you? Their leader?"

"An enforcer."He said."A marauder, if you will. Taking another's place in his absence."

"And where is your master?" Neferata further inquired. Before the marauder could say further, Mannfred interrupted and said, "That is a surprise making its way… eventually. Rest assured, he will arrive soon. Now please, give our new visitors the same courtesy as guests. They will provide plenty of entertainment throughout your stay."

"Subjectively."The Marauder murmured, earning a subtle glare from Mannfred.

"Regardless of your feelings, the Hell denizens will contribute to the return of our master. As they will provide us with the means to crush the Empire! And all that repelled Sylvania from its true glory! But enough of that! More wine!"

The crowd cheered, though, mostly for the wine. As for Neferata, she did not feel content with these 'demons' around. Quite so, she was deeply disgusted. Not only did the world have to contend with the Forces of Chaos in the North, but they now have to deal with another otherworldly force that was beyond their understanding. They were now trapped between plague and pestilence. And to think Mannfred von Carstein couldn't have sunken so low with his ego, she thought.

Neferata watched as the demons began "mingling" with the vampires. The fact that wine was quickly and freely given by human servants seemed to have alleviated the latter's troubles a bit. The Blood Dragons, likewise, sheathed their weapons and dispersed to join the crowd once more; their grandmaster was nowhere to be seen. Already, some nobles have begun rubbing shoulders with these hellish creatures, even taking an interest in their abilities and resourcefulness.

Her faithful companion, Naaima, leaned to her ear and whispered, "This does not bode well."

"So I have noticed," Neferata grumbled. "I cannot for the life of me fathom the madness overtaking Vlad's bastard heir. However, this is a delicate situation that we must handle carefully."

"Your orders?"

"For now, we will do nothing," Neferata answered, "And if we are given the opportunity, gather as much intel as possible. We must know more of these anomalies as soon as we can."

Naaima firmly nodded. Neferata kept her eyes on the heir of the von Carsteins, which quickly changed as she noticed the marauder staring directly at her. Those burning eyes bore through her and it unnerved her quite well. Thankfully, it was not long until Mannfred said something to the demonic warrior, gesturing him to follow outside the banquet. The urge to follow them was quickly repressed by her need to remain covert, remaining in her spot and passing herself off as unaware. For now.

The event had gone accordingly as planned, Mannfred reflected. So for the fact that he was slighted by the disrespect of a few guests did not bode him well. One of which was now walking beside him to discuss other matters.

"It is unwise to speak ill of your host."

"I do not serve you."

"But your master does." Mannfred discouraged, his disdain made clear. "So best you wizened up. Unless you wish to be disciplined."

The marauder growled lowly to his displeasure but kept quiet. It did not help that the marauder reached six-foot-eight compared to Mannfred's humble six-foot. The only relief the vampire lord could find was that the warrior was subservient to him in some capacity.

"I thought so." Mannfred sneered. "Speaking of which, any news from your lord? I am growing impatient with his lateness."

"He has reclaimed an artifact from the walking vermin."Answered the Marauder."Though, I am to inform you that he is now making his way to Bretonnia to aid the Liche."

"Good tidings, indeed," Mannfred said in good spirit, before turning downcasted by the latter news. "But I seriously doubt Arkhan would need such help."

"From what I have gathered, the Liche is dealing with betrayal by a human necromancer known as Heinrich Kemmler."

"Hmmm. Kemmler." Mannfred said venomously. Almost as if the name was a curse. "Will your master succeed?"

"My lord is a master of war. His craft is unparalleled. He will make short of this treachery."

La Maisontaal, Bretonnia

The sacred vault that housed the most powerful relics and artifacts rocked as bursts of necrotic magic flung and blasted outside its walls. Were it not for the growing darkness, one would see the holy grounds desecrated by mounds of corpses save for the few fires lighting in the night; both fresh and decayed. The secrets of the vaults were just within Arkhan's reach. The Liche King recoiled in pain as a blast of magic struck his chest. Arkhan took cover behind a corpse mound, raising them to take the full brunt of the magical energies. His enemy, likewise, raised his own and met with Arkhan's puppets with unyielding obedience. Both enslaved armies fought in perpetual stalemate. Any lesser necromancer would have crumbled were it not for the fact that Arkhan's enemy was Heinrich Kemmler: the Greatest Living Necromancer of the Worlde.

"Traitorous worm!"Cried the enraged Arkhan."You think standing in the way will stop the procession?! You would only delay the inevitable!"

His opponent laughed at his proclamations. "Fool! You talk as if you wouldn't have done the same to me! That I am some means to an end! And you the clever one! But you presumed too much! I too want what's in the Vault if only to destroy what remains of your master's trinkets! Condemn him to an eternity of suffering between realms in the name of my dark masters!"

Arkhan seethed with anger, corrupted magic flowing within him."Insufferable nuisance! Once I take your soul and restore my master to his glory, your gods will know fear!"

"Better this world fall to Chaos than be a slave to that skeleton!" Kemmler decried. Both masters of death shot out beams of death. Around them, a tide of corpses washed and waned with cacophonies of steel and axe meeting chainmail and flesh. In that battle, the tide would soon go in Kemmler's favor. Entering the skirmish, a mighty wight in blood-coated plate mail appeared. Long has his flesh decayed under the cursed armor, now held up by his bones and dark magic. His presence was announced as his shadow loomed over the sea of corpses. Huge and mighty was his stature did his Black Axe find reach in his unnaturally strong hands; swinging into the undead masses with ease and efficiency.

"KRELL!" Cried Kemmler. "Protect your master! Kill the Lich! Hurry!"

"Yes, master."

Alert, the wight known as Krell had his sights on the disciple of Nagash. It mattered little to the wight as he forced his way toward Arkhan; cutting swathes in his way. Kemmler smiled with glee as his champion made his way through, with the Liche King now focusing on the approaching Wight with extreme wariness. Even with his mastery of magic and experience in close quarters, Krell's sheer size and superior strength of arms would decimate the Liche King completely. Summoning Skeletal Warriors to his side, Arkhan ordered them to attack the wight to slow him down, summoning a beam of death to hurriedly whittle at his defenses. The magic struck Krell's chest but the wight was undeterred, resisting it whilst cutting down undead attackers. Kemmler supported his champion with a barrage of deadly spells thrown in Arkhan's way, keeping the latter distracted from engaging further.

Overwhelmed and with little room for offense, Arkhan had no choice but to back away from the fight, summoning more of his minions to protect his flank. But the wight lord had already gained speed, charging through the skeletons like a bull. With his axe raised, Krell was within reach. Desperation consumed Arkhan as he pulled out his sword to defend his unlife. But just before the axe could fall, a portal of fire and oblivion appeared. And out of it, burst a hand of demonic origins, carrying with it the legendary Fellblade.

The accursed weapon locked blades with Krell's mighty axe, pushing him even with his feet dragging into the dirt back as a mighty demon stepped out. His crimson skin and violet aura shone brightly even in the dark. A towering figure of dark power, the demon managed to stand taller than the already imposing wight by two heads. Arkhan looked up to find Mannfred's newest partner, Aeligor, pushing the wight with effortless strength. So much, Arkhan mistook the demon for giving a light shove. Even so, Krell stumbled back in surprise at Aeligor's strength. Entering the field, a ring of fire was formed around them; repelling any interferences from either side of the undead.

"Your timely arrival was much needed, Aeligor." Arkhan spoke in gratitude, standing beside the sta

"I came here as soon as I could."Aeligor replied, flashing the weapon to him."I take it the partnership ended?"

"The monastery is within reach."Arkhan informed."Just one more obstacle that needs removing."

"Then leave this to me."Aeligor grinned."Hold the blade. I have no need of it."

The archvile planted the Fellblade into the ground, leaving it to Arkhan. Approaching with eerie calmness, Aeligor dodged the wight's great swing of his axe with ease; ducking and weaving from Krell's reach with graceful intuition. Thrice, did the wight strike before the archvile caught the grip of the axe with one of his larger clawed hands. Krell struggled to push the blade as Aeligor twisted his weapon out of the way with incredible ease. Arkhan felt strangely satisfied to see such a lumbering warrior fighting for his life while a mortified Kemmler looked on helplessly.

Krell took one hand and punched the archvile hard in the face. Aeligor did not seem at all phased, which made Krell even more angry and punched the demon harder. The archvile caught the hand, however, and channelled a burst of Hell magic throughout Krell's body. The wight let go of his weapon; staggered as the dark magic was being burnt away from the inside.

Exposed to his opponent, Aeligor took the opportunity and snagged the wight's leg with his tail in the distraction, flailing the latter around the ground in amusem*nt. This went on for half a minute before Krell was thrown near the edge of the ring, severely damaged and too crippled to stand. Triumphant, Aeligor made his victory known by raising his enemy's weapon in the air, engulfing himself in violet hellfire before slamming the axe down to the ground with dramatic flair. The ring of fire suddenly expanded around the surrounding area, scorching both land and undead to ash. Kemmler - seeing the fire sweep across - managed to summon a magical protection circle around; protecting him from the unholy flames.

By the time the flames died out, only Aeligor, Arkhan, Kemmler and Krell were the last ones standing; the rest burnt to ashes from the hellfire. Kemmler's magic dissipated slowly as the wizened necromancer stood up from his spot. He nervously witnessed the archvile stand up to his fullest height, looking down at the human wizard with a look of contempt and apathy on its face. The demon stood where he was, though, as Arkhan approached with a calm but clear sense of entitlement; the Fellblade now within his grasp.

Kemmler rushed towards his champion, raising his staff only to feel a scorching pain from his palm. The necromancer dropped his staff to nurse his hand. The staff then levitated and flew toward the demon's hand. Powerless, Kemmler stood with what little dignity he had left.

"Fortune smiles upon me, Kemmler."Gloated the Lich King,"Your gods have failed you at the precipice of your glory."

"Get on it, with you damn skeleton!" Spat Kemmler, turning red with anger. "Kill me but don't expect me to kneel before your master! I am but one servant to the Gods! For there are many more before me! And many who will be more than happy to destroy you!"

Kemmler then pointed at the demon and yelled, "And you! The Gods know of your existence! Oh yes, they know all about you and your ilk! And when the End Times come, they will break free and wage war upon you!"

"War…"Aeligor uttered, grinning as he spoke it."I like that."

"Enough of your babbling, Kemmler."Arkhan silenced."Time to pay your dues."

Arkhan raised his staff and prepared a spell. Kemmler stood with a look of defiance on his face, ready to face his death; all while Krell desperately tried to stand up to protect his life support. Such fate was prevented, however, as the demon lowered Arkhan's staff, much to the surprise of both wizards.

"Lord Arkhan, if I may…"Aeligor announced,"Perhaps the wizard should be spared. A second chance, if you will it."

"W-What?!" Both necromancers spoke in bewilderment. Arkhan yelled in outrage,"Are you insane?! You want this waste of skin to live only to stab us in the back again?! Mannfred entrusted me that you would excel in war! Not incompetence!"

"Oh, you are mistaken, lord Arkhan,"Aeligor argued,"I do not expect him to join our cause. But I am a sucker for second chances. And with a fair trial."

Arkhan grumbled at the prospect but cooled his temper to hear reason.

"How do you propose this to be handled?"

"Simple. Trial by combat."

"I-I beg to differ!" Kemmler protested. "I am far from skilled facing you, demon! This fight would be a one-sided victory for you!"

"Then 'trial by champion', then."Aeligor corrected."Me against yours. Second round. If you accept, that is."

Kemmler, seeing his opportunity, smiled upon his chance and eagerly said, "Yes! I will gladly accept those terms!"

Arkhan, upon hearing it, grumbled at the thought of this ritual."So be it. One. Final. Duel."

"Very well."Aeligor threw back his staff."Make every moment count."

Wasting no time, Kemmler channelled all of his perverse magic into his damaged champion. The wight stood up, now reinvigorated with power flowing through him. The archvile then tossed the Black Axe back to its original owner. Krell's eyes burned with unholy green fires, menacingly dragging the blade across the ground with murderous intent, followed by his master laughing maniacally whilst approaching.

"Fool! Such chivalry has cost you your chances of victory! And I, Kemmler - Greatest Living Necromancer to exist - will prove the consequences of such foolish actions! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The mad wizard had lost all restraint and senses. His minion was at full power. It took every juice to enhance Krell to even the odds. Despite this, Aeligor remained serene at the display, much to Arkhan's perturbed wariness.

"Indeed."Aeligor concurred, distracting himself with a small fiery projection in his hand."You truly earn that title. Just not the brightest."

"Not the brightest?!" Kemmler rebuked. "I have enchanted Krell to unimaginable power through years of mastered sorcery! And you have the nerve to say I am not the brightest?!"

"Well, my dear Kemmler…"Aeligor glanced up with boredom in his eyes."Chivalry indeed saved you… for a few more seconds."

"Wha-?"

The archdemon's finger snapped, and Kemmler's body was split in half from the shoulder. Krell's embedded itself into the ground right where his former master was standing. Blood and guts fell and stained his axe as Kemmler's split toppled in different directions. Kemmler, helpless as he lay dying on the ground, silently muttered "Why?" back to his favourite minion, whose eyes now changed to an infernal red light. The wight coldly responded by ripping out his former master's head along with his spine from the body. Aeligor looked on, gratified by his own masterful ploy, while Arkhan's jaw dropped from its place; instinctively catching it with his hands.

"I-I…had not foreseen this."Said a bewildered Arkhan fixing his jaw up."How was this possible?"

"Quite simple, dear Arkhan,"Aeligor began lecturing,"A tap of my power was inserted in our fine wight. You can already predict how that went. Speak of the devil: how are you feeling, Krell?"

"More than better,"Krell growled, rolling his shoulders."Despite my gratitude for the sorcerer's magic for bringing me back, he outlived his usefulness. And I have you to thank for freeing me from his influence. I grew bored of his ramblings."

"Well said."Agreed Aeligor."With all the obstacles out of the way, the abbey is ours to take. But first…"

Aeligor gestured the wight to give him the head. The archdemon caught it when thrown and looked straight into Kemmler's cold dead eyes. Through the milky white windows, he saw the Gods of Chaos sitting in their lofty prisons. All stared with angry and contemptious disgust, but could not lay a finger beyond their realm. And that only made Aeligor all the more eager to rub it in their faces with profound audacity and triumph.

"Witness me."Aeligor gloated,"Witness the power that you could have kept so long ago. The benefits of loyalty."

Finishing his chance meeting, Aeligor purified the skull by dousing it in hellfire. The flesh and blood burned away with nothing but a clean white skull left behind. Tossing it back to Krell, Aeligor ordered,"Keep it. The others might need evidence."

"Not a necessity, but it doesn't hurt to dispel naysayers."Arkhan noted, picking up the weapons and robes of Kemmler himself.

"Now then, to the Abbey."

Taking Arkhan's words, the three made their way to the abbey. Long had it been abandoned by its defenders - many of whom were now dead during its defense - that the three approached the vault at a leisurely pace. The vault door was enormous and heavily fortified to protect its relics. Aeligor, however, bypassed this with magic. Easily, the door melted to molten metal, cooling down immediately after. Inside, the three were greeted with many relics and artifacts in the storage. Some were magical in nature, others hidden knowledge kept in the dark. But none interested more than what the three sought after.

Resting on display was the final piece of Nagash's power. There, the powers of its black magic glowed and emanated from its contained form.

"Alakanesh."Arkhan muttered with great reverence, approaching the staff with careful hands. Slowly, he held his master's prized artifact with pride and joy.

"With the Fellblade and Alakanesh in hand, my master's return comes ever closer."

"Then let us celebrate fast."Aeligor urged."Mannfred's guests await our return."

Soon, the archdemon summoned a dark red portal before them. Arkhan went in first, followed by Krell. Aeligor was the last to go, falling behind as he heard a scurrying behind him. With a glance over his shoulder, the archdemon noticed something hiding behind one of the shelves. It was quick, but Aeligor spotted the blue tabard before it hid away. Aeligor stood there for a moment, before deciding to simply enter the portal with a knowing smile.

With the portal closed, the stranger slowly walked out of his hiding spot. His armor was torn and battered in the battle against the undead. His blue tabard revealed a unicorn's head over a fleur de lis. The symbol of Quenelles. Belonging to none other than the Duke himself, Tancred II.

A white cloth wrapped around his bloodied head wound. An injury caught on by an undead smashing his head over with a mace. Were it not for his helmet, he would have joined his brothers at the Lady's side. But fate decided otherwise.

The Duke sighed with regret, having lost his chance of ending the threat. Yet, his conscience spoke of making the pragmatic decision of staying hidden. Given his wounds, it was perhaps for the best. And in some ways, the death of Kemmler alleviated the pain of the innocent, even if that opportunity was robbed of him.

Bending down on one knee, he prayed to the Lady of the Lake.

"Forgive me, my Lady." He regretfully said. "I did not have the heart to strike at the precise moment. But I live another day to atone for that mistake. And I will repay it by gathering more allies against this enemy."

Turning away with renewed conviction, Tancred began to march his way out when he was ambushed by several undead skeletons. The Duke raised his sword with reinvigorated hatred, while the undead had spears and swords pointed at him. From behind, archers stood but kept their bows low to the ground. A standoff began, with neither Tancred nor the skeletons making any advances. Intense silence passed, giving enough time for the Tancred to analyze the equipment on them. Though old and aged in appearance, the gear was well-maintained and more ornate if he could best describe it. The undead stood with perfect form and stance.

Eventually, a new figure approached. It was obvious that this was the leader. What he did not was the woman figure it had on its bandaged body. She wore a beautiful golden mask which concealed only half of it, showing a shrivelled and dried face behind the broken half. She approached with graceful and fluid movement. This did not discourage Tancred from lowering his sword. To him, the undead were a plague upon the innocent. One cannot tell friend from foe with them for they slaughter indiscriminately against the living.

"Stay back, foul undead!" Tancred barked. "Though I am wounded, I am not so hesitant to drag every of one you down with me!"

Upon hearing his threat, the skeletons made theirs. Spearman and swordsman took a step close with weapons held high, while archers now aimed at the lone knight.

But the female undead raised her hand in protest; her followers lowering their weapons and standing upright. Tancred expressed confusion until the undead woman spoke up.

"I see you are ignorant of the ways of Nehekera."She said sternly."But I am willing to ignore such a slight for the sake of the greater world. I am High Queen Khalida Neferher of Lybaras. And I am here on behalf of Settra the Imperishable as mandated by His Majesty."

Upon hearing this, Tancred slowly lowered his weapon to the ground. Reluctant albeit relieved somewhat, Tancred introduced himself.

"Duke Tancred the Second of Quenelles. What is your business here, High Queen?"

"We have common cause, you and I."Khalida answered emotionlessly."So tell me, Duke Tancred: Where. Is. Arkhan?"