The Wielder of Death Magic

“Hello,” waved the toddler, “-I’m the lord of fly, I like dirty places and smelly stuff. My favorite place is a battlefield of rotten bodies,” he signaled for a change of partners.

‘Quite the introduction,’ figured Igna. Kul, Vesper, and the butler approached timidly. Two princes of hell were in the audience, interrupting the conversation would be sacrilege.

“My lord, here,” the toddler handed to Igna, who, rather than perplexed, cradled the boy affectionately, “-Beelzebub, the lord of flies. Welcome to my family. We have more people waiting home,” thus came the queue for the others.

“Master,” knelt the butler, “-please, might I beg for a favor!”

“Insolence,” cried Asmodeus, “-has the demon-tribe lost the tact for manners.” A seeping sensation of dread relapsed, the blacken horns shone in warning, his power surged.

“Enough,” returned Igna caring for Beelzebub, “-there’s no need for such trivialities at this moment. Tell me, Butler, Vesper, and Kul, what’s the reason for your visit.”

.....

“I’ve come to serve his majesty,” said the butler, “-I was defeated and have been at a loss for so long. I need to find a new path forward, please, majesty, could you find it in thine heart to grant me such a favor. I vow to serve until my death.”

“Same here,” knelt Kul, “-I’ve evolved into a high-ranking demon. I wish to guard his majesty. As the new Demon-King, it would make me proud to have such an auspicious post.”

“My decision is the same, I will accept thy pledges,” he smiled. A sense of relief washed over the startled demons, “-however, to be fully accepted, just as I had to go through the rite of passage, the same must be done. I won’t be the judge, instead, there will be individuals who are twice and thrice my strength laying in wait. Counting among them is Lilith, Queen of Demon.”

“My lord,” interjected Asmodeus, “-have thee married lady mother, wasn’t she wife to Lucifer?”

“I don’t know myself, Asmodeus, tis quite the quandary. I vouch for her loyalty. Therefore, as crowned King, I say, will you partake in the rite of passage. No one shall be excused.”

“If his majesty says so,” they lined up and knelt, “-we shall undertake any task required of us.”

“Before you depart,” interrupted Vesper, “-let me complete the ritual.” A warm glow lit the crown, the structure melted into liquid gold and hovered to the signet ring. “-with this, you’re the true ruler of monsters. No matter the strength, race, or power, they must bow to their king, the signet ring proves the title. My duties as stewardess shall continue, our fight has yet to start, his majesty will be summoned if matters of our domain are in jeopardy.”

A darken vail swallowed the demon as it did Igna. The purple sky swapped for a lovely star-filled horizon. The ground felt wet, clouds partially marred the night. ‘-Back in Rotherham,’ the face glittered, ‘-I didn’t leave the apartment.’ *Dring, dring,* the bed vibrated, “-Igna speaking,” he answered.

“COUSIN!” shouted Julius, “-where have you been all day?”

“Had matters to attend to,” he replied nonchalantly, “-did something happen, why, I see countless miscalls.”

“Obviously,” he argued, “-there’s a war in Rosespire. A rival gang has revolted, they say if Phantom can be disgruntled by the death of a pest, what does it say about the organization.”

“Those bastards,” he darted for the balcony, “-where are they, I’m coming right away.”

“You’re in Rotherham, still, one of our arms transport trucks was attacked. I’ll send the coordinates.”

“What of our forces?”

“Not present yet, they have a Sultrian, it’s hard-pressed to fight a monster without another monster.”

“Don’t worry,” he leaped, “-you wanted a monster, I’ll give thee the devil instead.” A loud boom resonated. The bystanders cowered, was it a bomb or an attack. An upward glimpse showed a crimson-tailed shooting star.

Outside the range of the city guard on a diversion of the main road, an armored truck pelted for the safety of the main route. The initial destination was Rotherham or was until mines were scattered on a public road. If not for a speeding bike, the truck would have blown to bits. A trail of smoke whirled to the sky, from afar, one could mistake for a smoke signal. The unlucky biker died. Unequipped by the AFR, the truck-driver took command and sped into a chase. Jeeps of older generations rapidly swarmed the target. The hunt began around five minutes ago, a distress signal was issued to no response. The closest unit was inside the city, a hard task even for Phantom. “Don’t shoot,” said the driver, “-you open that window and we die. Let them fire, the truck is armored. We can’t be hurt.”

Headlights befell the frame of a boy, he stared into the driver’s eye and swung, an arc of blueish flame halted the vehicle in a tumble. The heavy beasts returned to their normal posture; the same couldn’t be said about the passengers.

‘A sultrian,’ coughed the driver, ‘-relay the information to headquarters. It’s them, the gang who recently employed foreigner.’

“Another job is done,” he smugly chuckled, “-stealing from the mafia is so easy. I was unrivaled in Alphia and now, I’m unbeatable in the land of animals.”

“Good job, Soun,” cheered a fully armed mercenary, “-take the supplies and leave.”

“Why are you so worried,” he casually walked to the injured driver, “-they’re weaklings.”

“Don’t get cocky,” cried the mercenary, “-our job is to steal the weapons, not kill them.”

“Bastards!” coughed the passenger, “-I’ll kill you,” he pulled a gun, *bang,* blood splattered the seats.

“Didn’t you say no killing?”

“Forget it,” he exhaled, “-we’ll load the jeeps, keep watch.”

*Ancient Magic: Gate,* he blasted out another portal and crashed into the asphalt. The entrance had the loaders halt, mercenaries jumped behind cover, “-who are you?”

“No one particular,” said the entity dusting his shoulders, “-I’m somewhat of a fighter for Phantom,” he leaped onto the truck admits the carnage, “-do tell, are the supplies yours or?”

“Are you dumb?” snickered a handyman, “-we’re robbing this truck.”

“And who are you exactly?”

“Let me interject,” said the Sultrian, “-my name’s Soun,” he jumped and stood face to face against Igna, “-a martial-artist trained in the art of blazing fist.”

“A martial artist,” he watched nonchalantly, “-should I be impressed or frightened?”

“Such bravado,” he eased into a relaxed posture, “-let see how you stack up against us, damned animal,” he dropped and charged, the movements were fake, feints mixed with real intent. *Martial-Arts – Second form, Auroa.*

“Y-yeah,” he sidestepped, “-martial arts or not,” the fighter’s eyes flooded with ire, “-I don’t care,” a back-handed palm ended the fight. No less than a second, Soun crashed into a jeep and died of a cracked skull. “My apologies,” he glided off the edge, “-I couldn’t hold back against a pretentious fighter.” The air altered, knowing glances flew around the mercenaries, “-RETREAT!”

Guns fired for cover; the jeeps toggled to skid out into the night. ‘They never learn,’ *Spatial-Arts: Disruption,* wave-like bubbles stopped the projectiles, *Partial-Realm Expansion: Mantia,* a vortex swallowed the bullets, *Spatial-Arts: Wormhole.* The roofs peppered, the attackers were wiped in a worthless exchange.

‘I suppose we don’t have much to talk about,’ he sat adjacent the dead Sultrian, “-why would someone of Alphia join such a meaningless battle?” Minutes turned to hours, the night sky showed signs of the coming dawn, an amber hue rose on the horizon. The crashed truck and jeeps rested in a pile on the side of the road. Previous damages to the roads were fixed with magic. Igna all but sat atop the pile and watched, the bodies of the fallen became a lax breakfast.

‘There they are,’ armored cars and jeeps surrounded a similar truck.

“Igna,” the vanguard stopped, “-are you well?” inquired a flustered Julius.

“Aside from the cold breeze,” *achoo,* “-I’m fine.”

“What happened to the rest?” he continued to the pile of bloodied clothes, weapons, and personal belongings, “-are they dead?”

“-Obviously,” he landed, “-Julius, mind telling what happened here?”

“Sources say Cimier sent a member as a trial to a local gang. We’ve located their whereabouts at a nearby village referred to as the Stoppage.”

“Any idea why the name Stoppage?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugged, “-just a small settlement along the highway to the west.”

“What of the population?”

“Around a few hundreds.”

“Cool, leave the cleanup duty to me.”

“Here then, catch.”

“What’s this?” he held a key.

“Keys to a bike,” he winked, “-I’ll handle the matters here. Go wipe out the rival gang and send a message not to fuck with the Dark-Guild.”

The stroll down the road felt more or less normal. ‘Here’s the settlement,’ he pulled into a side-road, ‘-not very impressive,’ the bike cruised to the lonelier part. Houses were scarce and so were people. ‘How to send an impression,’ the hideout came in view.

“éclair, is it possible to record my point of view using the lens?”

“Yes,” he returned, “-go on ahead, I’ll begin the process.”

“No need to say it twice,” Tharis unholstered and barged through the front. The residents were whelmed by the intrusion, some ran towards the door thinking the others had returned.

“Say hello to creation for me,” *bang,* one by one, armed or not, Pluton tanked into the hideout and cleared room by room.

“We’re under attack,” echoed around the cacophonous house.

“Throw the Molotov,” said another, “-block off the stairs, block it off!”

A bottle crashed to no avail, *Mana Control: Water Variant – Raindrop.* the flames of revolution dowsed effortlessly. They who dared attack Phantom were showed the one-sided slaughter. He who killed did so mercilessly. In the end, few begged for forgiveness, “-please, let me live, I only did this job to bring food to my family.”

“The life of a ruffian is hard and full of bad choices,” he grabbed a metal bat, “-I don’t care what brought you to this point. Attacking Phantom was the last mistake you ever made,” the remainder were bludgeoned to death. Each strike immaculately caught the breaking of bones, one by one, strike by strike, he beat, and beat, and beat, until the deed was complete.

“There,” said he wiping off the sweat and blood, “-send that video to the gangs. Say it to be a warm present from Pluton.”

Indeed, it was, the trauma spawned from the video truly drowned the reason for revolution. Godfather Shadow’s faction grew infamous among others. Their power alone could end the conflict with a pull of a trigger.

No other word needed to be exchanged. Igna left for Alphia on strenuous terms. Lady Courtney and Elvira were yet to be decisive on what to do about the murder. Similar to Chef Leko’s death, even when he knew the culprit, the same response of staying low returned.

“Wednesday the 15th,” the vampiric lair came in view, the gates parted as was usual. ‘-I lost Alicia and gained the title of King of monsters,’ the car parked at the entrance. ‘-I’ve made progress strength-wise. I wonder,’ he stepped inside, ‘-can I somewhat merge Scifer’s and the Shadow realm. The unification would truly bring power to my side.’

Tiny feet scurried off the wooden floor, “-WELCOME BACK POPS!” cried Draconis, Saniata was literally on his tail, “-slow down dummy,” she complained without a say.

“You’re energetic,” he caught the duo, “-what happened about the stay in the Shadow Realm?”

“Miira told us to move in with éclair,” they laughed. Vanesa eventually crawled her way to the porch, “-pops, I’m hungry...”