The sea of light-purple flames that encompassed the town could be seen from miles away.
The aura of death was heavy in the air as still-burning corpses littered the environment, buildings reduced to burning rubble.
The fire seemed never-ending, as even after burning all in sight, they spread onto the soil, determined to burn the earth itself!
Where the intensity of the flames were highest, two figures could be seen in their midst.
One was small, a child, seeming no older than seven. But there was something strange about him. His pupils, a deep red, held no emotion but seemed to be filled with death itself. Growing out of his temples were two black horns that curved with their tips towards his face.
As for the other figure, it was a corpse. Burned beyond recognition.
It knelt in front of the child, hugging him tightly—an action taken before their death.
The child's eyes were locked onto the corpse's gaze, his expression blank but he seemed to be in thought. Suddenly, a scream of agony filled the air.
The child turned to a man who stood in the fire but surprisingly didn't burn like the others.
The same couldn't be said for his clothes.
He held onto the left side of his abdomen, applying pressure to reduce the bleeding from his injury, but it was too late.
He had lost a lot of blood and should've lost consciousness by now, but he kept himself awake through sheer rage alone as he gripped the sword in his grasp tightly.
"Darius Greythorne," the child spoke to the man in a deep voice that seemed to reverberate in his skull. "You truly are special. I had heard about you in passing when I took my first possession, and it appears I was right to be cautious. You're the first mortal to not be burned by my flames."
"HOW DARE YOU?!" Darius screamed at the top of his lungs, his eyes bloodshot with rage.
It all seemed like a dream, but the pain rushing from his abdomen made Darius have no choice but to accept the cruel reality.
He had come to Premrose, a tourist city, to enjoy some quiet time away with his wife and son, to bond with them as he never seemed to have the opportunity to do so these days because of his responsibilities.
But now, here he was, his wife burned to a crisp and his son's body taken over by a demon.
"GIVE THEM BACK TO ME!" Darius screamed again.
The child sighed as he moved, causing the corpse holding onto him to break apart, falling to the ground and shattering.
This sight broke Darius.
BOOM!
Darius moved at an inhuman speed, creating a gust of wind that blew away the surrounding flames. He appeared in front of his son, his blade striking down for a lethal strike.
But before he could complete his attack, he felt a strong hit in his midsection as the child kicked him with a force that sent him smashing back into a burning building that collapsed on him.
A few seconds passed and Darius exploded out of the rubble, his gaze locked on his son as he breathed heavily.
But alas, his sword disappeared as he had reached his limit.
"I'm sorry, Lucia, Damian… I have failed you," he spoke in a weak, melancholic tone as he fell on his knees.
It was over, there was nothing more he could do.
"Do not fret, Darius Greythorne. You are strong, but you were never a match for me to begin with," the demon spoke from Damian's body.
"Who are you?" Darius asked in a tone even weaker than before.
He had fought thousands of demons in his lifetime, even high demons. But never had he met one he could not kill, let alone lose to.
"You do not know? Well, my time was long before humans freely roamed this realm." The demon raised his hand above his head, and the flames began to gather above him, condensing into a giant ball of purple fire.
Darius had no choice but to look in awe powerlessly at this show of power.
In all his life, never had he felt this weak.
"Remember my name well, mortal, for it shall be my gift to you as you go to the afterlife! I am the progenitor of chaos, he who is doomed to destroy this world, the fallen god…" the demon pointed his open palm at Darius.
"…Astriel the Damnation."
As Darius etched this name into his mind, he closed his eyes, silently accepting his inescapable fate.
"Forgive me, Damian," he whispered under his breathe, cursing his own weakness as he closed his eyes in shame of his failure.
This was to be the end of the unrivaled champion.
BOOM!
The roaring of flames filled Darius' ears as the ball of fire encompassed him, and yet, he felt no pain aside from the ones prior.
He opened his eyes to see the fire surrounding him, but nowhere close to his skin. It seemed as if it was being stopped by a barrier.
Upon realization, Darius looked down and sighed.
"Hello, Father," Darius muttered. "Fashionably late as always."
Coming out from seemingly nowhere, now standing in front of him, was an incredibly tall man donning bright-golden armor.
Even though he withheld his power, the air still felt heavy just from his presence.
His hair was long and raven-black, reaching his waist and flowing freely. His brown eyes were locked on his son with a blank expression on his face as he contemplated how to feel at this moment.
He had never imagined seeing Darius in such a state. This was the most powerful man in the mortal realm, and yet he had been reduced to this by a mere demon? This shouldn't be possible.
He turned to face Astriel, and the flames promptly disappeared to give him a clear view.
Astriel was surprised. His attack had just disappeared without his command, and a new person had entered the battlefield without him even noticing.
He immediately went on guard, but squinted his eyes as he noticed something was wrong. This new person was no mortal.
"How are you here?" Astriel asked.
"Does that matter?" he replied.
"Gods aren't allowed to be in the mortal realm; the scales do not allow it," Astriel frowned.
This individual was a god!
The power he felt from him could only be explained with that.
"The scales do not apply to me, as the realm recognizes me as one of its own," the man responded.
"One of its own? Impossible. A mortal cannot hold the same level of power as a god," Astriel argued.
"I am the exception. But seems I can say the same for you; I have never seen a demon with your level of power before. Although you are unable to unleash it all, it could rival that of a god," the man said.
"A god that doesn't know who I am? This is a first. Who are you?"
"I am Luther Greythorne, and that is all you need to know."
"Greythorne," Astriel glanced at Darius, then looked back at Luther. "Related?"
"My spawn," Luther responded.
"Ah, I see. That explains his power," Astriel nodded. "I have never heard of a god who bore forth a mortal."
Luther pointed at him. "The body you inhabit is of me as well. I'll have to ask you to leave."
"I'm afraid I cannot," Astriel stated.
"I would rather you reconsider," Luther said as he took a step forward. Suddenly, Astriel felt a pressure crash down on him as the ground beneath him cracked, and he fell to his knees.
"Do not let me tell you again," he walked closer to Astriel, a step at a time, and the pressure on the latter increased with each.
By the time Luther reached him, Astriel could barely breathe.
"This boy's soul is mine! If you want me gone, you'll have to kill the boy!" Astriel looked up at Luther with a devious smile on his face.
Luther paused. A quick assessment of Damian's body and he saw that Astriel was right.
It was too late to separate them now.
"There's nothing you can do but watch as I devour him," Astriel's smile widened.
"I see. Then, if you want the boy's soul that much, you may as well meld with it."
"Eh?"
Luther stretched his hand to his side, and an eight-foot golden spear appeared in his grasp. Its spearhead gleamed even under the darkness of the night sky.
The earth quaked at the presence of the soul weapon of the mortal god.
Luther knew he only had a short time before the fabric of reality would begin to tear. This was a power that was not meant to manifest in this realm.
He had to be quick.
"No, wait! I am the primordial demon! How dare you try to merge my soul with that of a mortal?!" Astriel screamed in a mix of anger and terror.
"I can see it; you've already begun to eat up the boy. If I separate you now, he will never be the same. You brought this upon yourself," Luther spoke calmly as he raised the spear above Astriel.
"NO!"
Luther struck down, piercing Astriel's heart, and a bright beam of light rose up to the heavens.
Darius blocked the light from entering his eyes with his hands. When the light disappeared, the scene in front of Darius' eyes had changed; all that was in front of him was Damian lying face flat on the ground.
His appearance was back to normal, and Luther was nowhere to be seen.
The sounds of horses could be heard, and in no time, hundreds of knights in silver armor on horseback surrounded them. Several of the knights rushed down to Darius' aid.
"Lord Darius!" one of the knights called out as he draped a blanket over Darius' shoulders to cover his nakedness.
"You're injured!"
"My lord, the town… what happened?"
Darius ignored the questions and kept his gaze on Damian, who was being tended to by some knights.
While the knights thought that Darius was just worried about his son, they failed to see the emotion in his eyes as he looked at him.
An emotion never before imagined to be seen in the unrivaled champion.
That emotion… was fear.