Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Cleaving down Abbadon over Zantar's head, the cruel ring of iron clashing against steel erupted in a glorious explosion that shattered mountains. Shockwaves rippled with such force mist of blood rained over the night sky. Rubble cascaded like volcanic ash as Embers flew like a star, and under the end of my blade, the Fallens lips arched.

"A pleasure to finally meet you." A shudder echoed down my heart for the first time, and he continued. " You have something of mine."

My eyes skimmed over the battlefield, but my intent never left this thing before me—fear thumping through my heart. I resisted the terror dancing along the rim of my soul.

"And what would that be?"

His eyes danced from side to side, watching for something, settling back on me as I pushed more weight into Abbadon. He wasn't even trying. Sweat had dotted his brow, and he seemed almost trapped under my blade, but Zatar was a Fallen, a full-fledge Fallen. His power is so grand that even the hells recognize even the weakest of Fallens.

Just how deep had he planned this out? And precisely what is he after?

Whipping his spear towards my neck as it curved like a snake, I pivoted backward, narrowing my eyes as Abbadon morphed into a bow. Dark might, brimming with hellish rebuke, rippled, and from the magical string that carried the weight of a million stars, I nocked my bow, as a single arrow blazing with untold might shredded apart Arsnes darkness, allowing the golden-scarlet rays to pierce through.

"Not so fast," Besrel of the First Class shouted, coming to Zantar's aid, not that he even needed it, gripping a great shield of gold, and silver, with a lance in his right hand. He flashed in front of this Fallen.

Firing off my arrow, the power of millions of tier five stars capable of wiping out galaxies flared like shattering stars.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!

Heat blazed, smothering everything in what could only be described as hell.

Morphing Abbadon back into an Ax, I rushed through the debris of dirt, and ash, whipping against my flesh, as cries rang from those caught in the storm.

"The tome you receive exploring the Bed of Chaos, Baphomet," Zantar said in a soul whisper, causing my skin to prickle with fear.

Not even Asmodeus knew of this? How does he?

The hairs upon my neck stood on end and from the shadows. Zantar appeared in a radiant blaze of golden light. Coldness swelled throughout my veins and in a single moment. The spear within his hand danced against my ax.

DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*

Flashing at speeds that would made Light Speed seem like a distant dream, Zantar and I were forced through subspace. We battled throughout the confines of time that rippled forward and backward, his golden eyes glimmering with Serpofic Might. His blade twisted, cutting deep through my shoulder, sending a river of blood through the light tunnel.

"This is better," he said, " No one is around."

Grunting at the burning fire radiating from my shoulder, I growled. "How do you even know about that?"

His eyes shimmered. "Because I have been searching for that manual since my fall. Why else would I be here? I had long since ascended, and now I'm back."

"You lie. Those that leave cannot—"

"You think everything is absolute?" Zantar said, shaking his head."Nothing is, although everything comes at a price. I lost over ninety-nine percent of my true power. But it's a minor consequence. When compared to that artifact you now hold."

Re-summoning the Septer of Lilith. The Fallen's gaze fell into mockery, " Does it not bother you that a mere human created your kind? That the deepest root of sin out of all creation is a human and not a devil?" His gaze lingered over the staff, settling back on me. " hand me the Tome, Baphomet."

The lining of my stomach burned as heat slipped out my nostrils. Sweat raced from my brow as the sigil of wrath glimmered above my head.

"You may be a Paragon, but you are a Godless, one who stands without a blessing. Making the playing field about equal." I said, listening to my heart hammer against my ribs. "I just need to survive long enough for your brother to assist you."

"How disappointing." Said Zantar flatly. He lifted his spear, and slowly the blade began to twist away into an obsidian black dagger.

"Give it to him." A deep voice called to me, emanating from the Scepter of the Demon Mother.

My eyes widened, and a wave of anger flared, erupting in such fury I felt the hellish nature of the Hells slip deep into my soul.

"You will give it to him," Lilith repeated. Her voice was as tranquil as the night skies. "You have spent years under my guidance and have failed to show any promise. I need a more delicate hand. One that maybe this little, no name Fallen can deliver to me."

My cheeks burned with humiliation. Clenching my fist so tightly against Abbadon, blood slipped from my palms.

" Fine," I murmured to her.

"Good," She said, her voice still light. "When you see Arsene, due tell him. His death would be rather unfortunate with all that has been happening with the Absence of the Silver Devil."

Anger flashed between my brow as I dismissed the scepter, pulling out the tattered remains of the Tome of Blood.

Surprise flickered through Zantar as he lowered his dagger, and a burst of laughter left his lips. The contempt was unmistakable." The joys of being an Angel, or Fallen. Our God will never ask anything of us. And even if he does, no one has ever had his blessing. So we have no incentive even to listen."

Tossing the Tome towards Zantar, who took it into his arms with tender care, his eyes lingered over the tome as a smile graced his lips. "So many secrets are held between Iluthath and the Bed of Chaos. So many that not even the strongest of Fallen knows."

"What will you do now?"

"Wait, of course. Patience is the grandest of virtues. I am sure a Demon Prince-like yourself can understand such things."

"Demon Prince?" I repeated.

"Right, your kind is as mindless as the denizens of the Bed of Chaos." His lips curled up into a higher arch, "The forgotten era truly was the grandest of times. Chaos Lords and Blood Lords were a common sight in the Hells back then. And you, or should I say the first version of you, was truly a force to be feared as you battled against the Devils. How the mighty have fallen, eh?"

A grim snort left me as I turned, taking my leave.