DMAW Chapter 102: The Closing Jaws (Patreon)

Ichigo sat with his cheek resting against his fist as he looked through the reports upon his desk, occasionally turning a page while Bennuides waited across from him. The Phenex Lord was as impeccably composed as ever, his back straight and his hands resting neatly upon his knees. Even with everything that had happened over the last few days, the Devil looked entirely unruffled.

Which, Ichigo supposed, was par for the course for the Pillar Lord. Even when Ichigo had whipped Rias and Sona’s respective fathers and Bennuides had been exposed to his powerful aura, the Devil still remained as poised as ever.

“I am happy to report, sire, that my mother returned to our territory this morning, as commanded by you and the other Crown Princes.”

Ichigo nodded, setting down the report he had been reading before giving the Devil his full attention. He had been wondering when he would hear back about Rubera, although he supposed tracking down a woman who had spent centuries wandering through Creation was hardly as simple as calling her on the phone.

Heck, she hadn’t been here since long before phones were even invented.

“By her own admission, Mother has had no contact with any member of the Old Satan Faction – to her knowledge.”

His eyes flickered toward Bennuides’ face at his closing remark, but the Devil’s expression remained perfectly controlled. It was a loaded disclaimer and statement – and a not-so-subtle attempt to absolve his mother of any guilt, even if by association.

Not that Ichigo blamed the Devil. Were their circumstances reversed, he would have done the same for his own mother.

“However,” Bennuides continued, “she has admitted to creating four Phenex Tears since leaving the Underworld.”

“I’m assuming she has detailed accounts for each?” Ichigo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Indeed, sire.”

Four folders appeared in the Devil’s hand, and Bennuides leaned forward to place them upon the desk. Ichigo reached for the first, opening it as the Devil began explaining.

“The first instance was six hundred and forty-three years ago. Mother had taken a lover, a Hexian noble of minor renown in the Plane of Grassint. He was grievously wounded during their civil war, and, out of affection, Mother chose to save his life.”

Ichigo’s eyes rose from the page, and he gave Bennuides a pointed look. “One of the nobles of our Empire involved herself in another species’ civil war?”

“No, my Lord,” Bennuides answered, shaking his head. “Mother maintained neutrality in every official capacity.”

“And unofficially?”

“I’m afraid I was only regaled with the official account, sire.”

Ichigo snorted at the answer, especially given how smoothly the Devil delivered it. But again, he would not fault a Devil for trying to protect his mother.

“Sure you were,” he said sardonically. “So, what happened to this…” He glanced at the name upon the page. “Lord Rosstorig? Is your mother still with him?”

“No, sire,” Bennuides said with a quick shake of his head. “If you turn to the final page, you will see that Mother discovered he had started a secret family approximately halfway through their relationship. She flew into a violent rage upon the revelation and proceeded to murder her lover and his secret family. After that, she absconded from the plane, since the Hexians had marked her as a criminal, and continued on to other adventures.”

Ichigo turned the page and briefly looked over the account even as his expression turned incredulous. It was a bit melodramatic, but he’d expect nothing less from a former Pillar Lord who had survived the Great War. Whatever sentiment Rubera held for the Hexian, she was still an immensely powerful Devil – a creature filled with violent passions and dark inclinations.

He set the folder aside and reached for the second, although his brows rose as he read the particulars of its recipient.

“A thirteen-year-old male Star Elf?”

“Yes, my Prince,” Bennuides confirmed. “He and his twin sister were the second and third recipients of the Tears Mother created. And both creations happened at the same time.”

Ichigo opened the third file beside the second and compared the names and information within while the Pillar Lord continued.

“Four hundred and twelve years ago, Mother was in the midst of an amateur archaeological phase – she was exploring various extinct civilizations and documenting them in her journals. In this particular case, she employed these two children as guides through a collection of ruins upon their native plane. Unfortunately, both were critically injured during an expedition, and Mother, having grown rather fond of them, chose to save their lives.”

“Fair enough,” Ichigo murmured.

A pair of children from some distant plane that their Empire had no contact with were hardly candidates for spies. He read through the remaining details before moving on to the fourth folder, only for his expression to sour at the first page.

“A Fey Lord?” he asked disapprovingly.

Bennuides closed his eyes briefly and released a restrained sigh.

“One hundred and eighty-three years ago, Mother became trapped in a dimensional break. One of the Greater Fey rescued her and demanded a Tear in repayment of the debt. I’m sure my Lord is aware of how deeply oaths and obligations are ingrained within their magic and how seriously they take such things.”

Ichigo nodded curtly; he and Tiamat had once gone to one of the core Fey planes… well, they no longer talked about it. It was a part of their history they absolutely refused to acknowledge and pretended never happened.

That being said, Ichigo knew enough about the Fey to appreciate how utterly unpleasant it was to deal with them. They were a capricious and mischievous species that delighted in trickery and bad intentions. Not too unlike Devils. But whereas Devils made deals in bad faith for personal gain, Fey did so simply for the love of chaos.

Still, being lost between dimensions did rather limit one’s ability to be selective, so he could empathize with Rubera just a little.

“I can’t help but notice,” he then said, “that this doesn’t mention the Fey Lord’s name.”

“That…” Bennuides paused, and for the first time since arriving, the Devil looked faintly uncomfortable. “Would be because the gentleman in question deigned not to provide it.”

Ichigo frowned at him for a moment before returning his attention to the folder.

That did complicate things then…

A Greater Fey possessing one of the Phenex Clan’s Tears was troublesome enough; having no name to track down said Fey made it significantly harder to ascertain the fate of that shed Tear.

His finger tapped against the desk as he looked over the four accounts. Bennuides had been thorough in presenting what his mother had told him, but that was hardly the same as knowing whether she had told him everything.

He doubted the Devil was lying – Ichigo knew enough of the Devil’s character to know that he wouldn’t do so to him. Rubera, however, belonged to an older breed of Devil, and he would be foolish to accept her accounts as the concrete truth. And though he understood Bennuides’ desire to keep his mother out of trouble, understanding it did not mean he could allow it to influence his decision.

Ichigo leaned back in his chair and met the Phenex Lord’s gaze.

“Rubera Phenex will report to the Ministry of Intelligence tomorrow morning for a full debriefing at her leisure.”

Bennuides’ lips briefly parted, but whatever response had risen to them was quickly put aside. The Devil lowered his head instead.

“As you command, my Prince.”

An awkward tension settled over the office, and Ichigo was content to let it remain. They both understood that debriefing was nothing more than a euphemism for interrogation, and when he said at her leisure, he really meant right-fucking-away. But neither of those things needed to be said out loud explicitly.

Ichigo genuinely respected Bennuides. The Devil and Sylvanna had offered him a considerable amount of knowledge and counsel over the last few years, and Ichigo had come to value them both for it. Not to mention, they were both incredibly efficient and competent in their duties—a sorely needed trait in the Upper Nobility.

Nevertheless, there remained an iron line between ruler and subject. And he could not afford to cross it simply because enforcing the line made things awkward between him and someone he shared a professional, if somewhat friendly, relationship with.

There were billions of lives under his charge; he would not jeopardize them to spare himself the discomfort of issuing an unwelcome command. There were times when leadership required decisive ruthlessness.

A lesson he had learned all too well from Sirzechs.

“Is there anything else?” he asked, his voice still toneless and a touch cold.

“There is one matter, sire.” Bennuides raised his head, and the gravity in his expression drew Ichigo’s attention. “Reports to the Ministry of Order have shown that a few villages on the frontier - that is to say, not incorporated under any nobility - have been mysteriously emptied out and destroyed.”

Ichigo straightened slightly as a sharpness entered his eyes.

“Destroyed and emptied?”

“Indeed, my Prince. Six villages – to be exact – have been discovered thus far. All bear evidence of considerable violence, but the investigators have been unable to locate their populations.”

A fifth folder appeared in Bennuides’ hand, and Ichigo accepted it with a growing frown. The first few pages contained the particulars of the settlements, their approximate populations and the dates upon which contact had been lost. But it was the photographs that caught his attention.

Broken houses, torn doors and deep gouges carved through walls and roads alike. There was blood splashed across furniture and smeared over the ground, enough of it that the absence of bodies became more noticeable with every page he turned. And not just blood, but strange puddles of a black, goo-like substance found all over as well.

“Nearly nine thousand missing?” he voiced with quiet shock.

He looked more closely at a series of deep gouges photographed by the investigators. Those were claw marks; some sort of beast. No, wait… judging by the frequency of the various scratches and claw swipes etched all over the villages, it was more than just one creature.

“Some sort of beast attack? A pack of them, more likely?”

“That is what the preliminary investigators believe, my Prince. However, you will notice the pools of black substance documented throughout the sites.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said, pausing over one photograph. “I was wondering about that.”

“Our field analysts have yet to establish its nature,” Bennuides explained. “Samples have been sent to the Ministry of Magic for further examination. In accordance with standing regulations concerning unidentified foreign substances, all six sites have been quarantined and dimensionally locked.”

However, the longer Ichigo looked at the black gunk, the more strongly a sudden chill settled onto his shoulders. Something haunting stirred within Ichigo, and he felt the Black Lightning in his soul rumble restlessly.

His brows drew together as he studied the photographs, even turning them in his hands to look at them from different angles. There was nothing he could identify about the odd liquid, and yet…

“How long has this been happening?” he suddenly asked.

“From what we can establish, the incidents occurred within the last three to four days.”

Ichigo’s gaze jerked from the photos, and he looked at Bennuides keenly. “So, just after the invasion.”

Bennuides nodded grimly. “Yes, sire.”

It was too much of a coincidence to him, and he knew better than to simply write it off. And yes, regardless of the circumstances, the Underworld would always be a dangerous place, and those who chose to live beyond the protection of the established territories accepted certain risks.

But six villages all destroyed under identical conditions just after the invasion?

“This looks coordinated,” he said, as much to himself as to Bennuides.

“My thoughts exactly, my Prince.” The Devil watched him carefully. “Do you have any commands?”

“Double the patrols through the fringe territories. I’ll speak with Ajuka and have him expedite cooperation with the Ministry of Magic.” Ichigo’s eyes returned to the black substance, and his mouth tightened. “And tell all units to avoid direct contact with the foreign substances. And I want high-grade containment gear for anyone entering the sites, and make certain the quarantine is strictly enforced.”

Bennuides regarded him for a moment before asking, “Do you have some indication of what this could be, sire?”

Ichigo shook his head as his mouth twisted morosely. “No. But I’m getting one of my premonitions, and it’s a rather ominous one. I also get the feeling this is going to happen again.”

“Very well, my Prince. I will have the orders issued immediately.”

Ichigo nodded, although he remained quiet for several more seconds, his fingers resting against his lips as he considered the ugly feeling gathering within him. It was a twisting, coiling sensation – one that seemed to press at his mind from every direction.

And more than that – it really was a premonition.

Ophis still occluded the future, but what he could sense was something vile… something creeping through the shadows cast by the Void. But try as he might, he could discern nothing else.

With a tired sigh, Ichigo closed the folder and set it before him.

“Anything else to discuss?”

“No, my Prince.” Bennuides rose and bowed deeply at the waist. “My gratitude for granting me your personal time.”

And before he could respond, another voice broke through the room. “And yet, when shall I receive some of your valued time, my master?”

Ichigo’s expression immediately soured and he rolled his eyes.

The shadows behind Bennuides twisted through crimson and green smoke, and Gremory stepped into the office with a broad and charming smile on her painted red lips. Beyond the windows, lightning split the sky and flooded the room with white light, followed a second later by a thunderclap that shook the glass.

Ichigo let out a sigh as he realized his meeting with Bennuides would come to a rather unpleasant end.

Gremory paid the Phenex Lord no attention whatsoever. Instead, she swept around the desk, her sleeveless red dress clinging closely to the sway of her hips, and she then promptly wound both arms around his left one.

“After using me so thoroughly against your enemies, you have paid me none of your attention nor offered me any such reward,” she complained, pressing herself against him with an expression of wounded affection. “Why, my heart bleeds. To use and abandon me so readily, how cruel of you, my Lord.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Ichigo said with a flat look. “Also, we need to establish some rules about coming into my office uninvited. At the very least, you could have knocked before rudely barging your way into my meeting.”

Her pout became even more pronounced as she placed one hand upon his chest.

“Why speak of boundaries between us, master?” she asked, peering up at him as the eerie green light of her eyes glowed a touch stronger. “I am utterly yours. After all, you have entered me, forcibly breaking my flesh and spilling your essence throughout my being.”

Ichigo scowled and looked toward Bennuides, even as the Pillar Lord suddenly developed an unwavering interest in the floor.

“She means my Bishop piece,” Ichigo clarified. “You’ll have to excuse her. She hasn’t been house-trained yet.”

Gremory’s lips curved, and the look she gave him became considerably less coy.

“Oh, but I would welcome your training any day, my master.”

Ichigo slowly dragged his gaze back to her, and for several silent seconds, he looked down at the temptress on his arm. She had been growing bolder and bolder over the weeks. But honestly, Ichigo knew what he was getting into when he made the offer. She was a Demon of Old – there was no way she wasn’t going to be a pain in the ass for him.

His eyes flashed with steel even as his voice darkened and dropped an octave. “I’m going to have to make good on that promise to hurt you, aren’t I?”

Gremory shuddered and her eyes widened just a touch, delirious desire coloring those haunting greens. The air around her cooled even as her breath visibly chilled.

Her fingers tightened upon his arm, and he could feel the anticipation coiling through her magic. It was a dark, revolting invitation, so thoroughly tangled with sinister passion and coiling insanity that Ichigo could literally taste the ambient magic in the air warping and mutating from her desire. For a brief moment, he felt Hell itself stir in his soul, hungering for the creature Lucifer had promised to its flames so long ago.

And from the corner of his eye, Ichigo caught Bennuides shifting uncomfortably. The Devil’s jaw tightened, and there was a brief flicker through his aura as he pushed back against the insidious influence spilling from the ancient Demon.

Ichigo watched mildly as the Devil struggled with the pull of Gremory’s unchecked desire; the Demon’s dark lust was winding its way through his mind and subtly snaking its way into his magic as well. Under different circumstances, Ichigo would have even been impressed with Gremory’s insidious display.

That being said, the last thing he needed was Phenex itself to emerge from its ancient isolation in a berserk rage because Gremory had enchanted its prime descendant.

There was another flash of lightning and, again, the room shook with thunder as Ichigo could feel a deep, abiding ire and rage build from the opposite corner of his mind. With a sigh, he then looked over at the Phenex Lord and said, “Bennuides, I assume you can make yourself intangible?”

“Sire?”

Ichigo merely held his gaze, and the Phenex Lord quickly inclined his head.

“Yes, of course.”

“Good,” Ichigo replied as he turned back to look down at Gremory. “Do that.”

Keeping his expression neutral, he then reached up and pinched her chin, and Gremory’s breath instantly hitched. The pale skin of her cheeks flushed, and he could hear the sudden rush of blood through the body she had fashioned for herself.

“For the record,” he said, allowing a little amusement into his voice, “you asked for this.”

Her lips parted, and she began leaning toward him, her face growing closer by the millisecond – but Ichigo had other ideas.

He flicked the finger that was holding her chin.

And a small sonic boom sent the papers upon his desk scattering, and Gremory was launched across the office before striking the opposite wall with tremendous force. Marble cracked behind her, and the back of her head met the stone with a sickening crunch as she slid toward the floor.

Ichigo lowered his hand and watched her settle beneath the ruined section of wall. Her hair had fallen across her face, but slowly, both of her hands lifted up as she began to hug herself, her fingers digging tightly around the bones of her shoulders.

Sluggishly, almost painfully, she looked up through her wild crimson hair, and even Ichigo had to admit to being a touch unnerved at the sheer insanity plastered on Gremory’s face.

Her smile was so unnaturally wide that she genuinely lost any semblance of humanity, resembling more of a mockery, like some animal trying and failing to copy human expressions. And the anatomy of her eyes had begun to come apart, emerald hues bleeding into the black of her sclera as the shape of her irises fractured and shifted. She stared at him through the curtain of her hair, and the hunger in that gaze had erupted into full-blown insanity.

A strangled laugh escaped her as the flesh beneath her dress contorted, forcing her legs to straighten and lift her from the floor. She remained hunched forward, her fingers digging into her shoulder, but her gaze never left his.

“Master.”

That single word carried enough dark intention to make the shadows writhe through the office. And a poisonous green miasma began rolling from her feet, spreading over the marble as her power pressed against the reality of his realm.

Had they not been in Infernity, Ichigo was sure localized reality would have buckled to her Demonic Will. But this was his realm and he had his full attention and power in it at the moment; with a flicker of his own Will, he pushed back against her, containing her.

“I—” But Gremory suddenly cut herself off and her expression froze stiff as a third bolt of lightning fell across the sky and his office literally shook from the force of the thunder.

Ichigo then quickly turned towards Bennuides and said, “Now would really be a good time.”

And just as the Phenex Lord’s form shimmered, the wall behind Gremory exploded as massive claws tore through marble and timber, carrying away half the roof in a deafening crash as the storm hurled itself into the office. Rain lashed across his desk, and Ichigo caught the scattered reports with his Will before the wind could take them through the newly made opening.

A colossal hand of glinting scales closed around Gremory, snatching her from the floor in a crushing grip even as broken stone passed harmlessly through Bennuides.

“What in Lucifer–!”

The Devil’s exclamation faltered, and Ichigo followed his gaze toward the enormous blue Dragon clinging to the fortress.

A glimmering cerulean tail had coiled around a neighboring tower, and immense pinions cast enormous shadows over the ramparts as rain screamed across the brilliance of sapphire scales. Enraged eyes of blue thunder burned with ancient murder and possessive fury.

Over the howling of the tempest wind and the bullet-like pelting of the furious rain, Ichigo loudly yelled to his Crimson Witch caught in the death grip of his Dragon King, “Never said I’d be the one hurting you!”

And Tiamat roared.

=======

Gremory’s lips peeled back as lightning tightened around her, its winding coils burning through her flesh compressed between the Dragon King’s claws. She let her body dissolve, intending to seep through the gaps in the dragon’s grip, but the mystical energies of the thunder followed her and caught the darkness beneath her skin. And before she could twist her magic in response, giant wings struck the air and carried her through Infernity’s storm.

As they flew high into the air, she caught sight of her master waving cheekily with an amused smile! A flash of murderous rage swelled up inside of her as he disappeared from view – she should have known! He was never one to entertain her games!

But the claws tightened again, crushing her bones and the flesh of her body. She turned a baleful gaze at the Old One, summoning her magic to tear the miserable ancient beast apart. However, in that moment, a thrum of power burst from the dragon’s scales and Gremory’s eyes widened in recognition.

Dimensional barriers shattered around them as the ancient Dragon climbed through the Gap, its violent colors flashing across sapphire scales before another world’s atmosphere closed over them. Gremory glimpsed forests beneath a pale grey sky, mountains stretching beyond their edges, and then the enclosing fingers opened.

And then the dragon hurled her, sending her like a comet through the sky and into the nearest peak.

Stone burst through her skull and filled her mouth, and the mountain exploded around her passing body, its broken slopes collapsing beneath a shockwave that stripped dozens of square miles bare. Gremory gathered herself beneath the falling rubble, hatred pouring through the fractures before her flesh had properly reformed, and crimson-black miasma erupted toward the sky.

“You miserable beast!” she shrieked hatefully. And immediately Gremory twisted clouds of acid magic and churned them to swallow the dragon’s form whole. But with a roar and a beat of her azure wings, the winds ripped about and scattered her magic through the air.

And then the dragon fell from the sky and came tearing at her with tooth and claw.

Gremory answered with elemental sorcery, wrenching molten stone from beneath the mountain and driving it upward in a thousand burning lances. Winds compressed around their edges while the rivers of fire below rose into immense, twisting blades, and she sent everything against the dragon’s descent.

Her expression twisted with maddened glee; come! She would gladly rip a few scales and wear them as jewelry! Let their shared master watch on as she made of his precious familiar a thing to wear!

But from the sky fell a bolt of lightning, and it blasted away the molten stone she had shaped. One lance managed to escape the pale thunder and Gremory watched with wide eyes as it shattered helplessly against Tiamat’s neck before an enormous wing swept through the explosions and struck Gremory’s quickly conjured shields. The barriers shattered against her chest, driving her backward with enough force that she felt the blast of air slam into her face and body.

Gremory then slipped away, turning into a writhing darkness, and reached out for the cast shadow beneath the dragon’s body. Darkness quickly climbed those sapphire limbs and wound itself around the wing joints, its barbs sinking between scales as Gremory fastened the bindings deep beneath the mountains. She wanted those wings spread and helpless, wanted the old harlot to feel each armored scale be pried apart as she sank her rotting magic into its flesh.

Ah – the Dragon King in her human form was a beauty of legend, even Gremory had to admit to it. The sight of her sniveling, begging, whimpering under her… and then they could invite their master in on the fun too! Surely, he’d forgive a little bit of playful pain?

But then Tiamat’s gaze narrowed and she let out a vicious growl, even as she reached up and grabbed the winding shadows around her and, like paper, tore them to shreds. And with a roar the Dragon King let out a shockwave of thunder and Gremory instantly teleported far away as it ripped deep through the earth.

The uprooted mountains fell between them, and Gremory filled their collapsing shadows with illusions. A hundred crimson-haired figures scattered through the storm, each carrying a convincing impression of her presence, while she slipped through shadows of collapsing mountains. But the Dragon King opened her mouth, and a flash of light whitened the world, and suddenly her illusions were lost as the entire mountain range erupted upward in a colossal streak of light.

The continent continued breaking beneath the Dragon King’s thunder, its shattered slopes collapsing into the immense wound her power had carved through the earth. Gremory gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes as her incorporeal form remained safe – the magical static still licked against her spirit – causing minor flecks of pain to dance through her being.

But pain was a dear friend, and a wonderful motivator. She pushed her sorcery, letting it pulse out and seize every tumbling fragment of the sundered earth before it could fall back into gravity’s clutches.

Faces split through the boulders, followed by grasping hands and heavy limbs as she forced the broken mountain into shapes that might serve her better. Thousands rose through the dust, then thousands more, their bodies swelling as they dragged loose stone into themselves until an army of towering golems crowded the collapsing valleys. Gremory wound her malice through their hollow skulls and sent them clambering over one another toward the sapphire beast.

But the Old One merely lifted one foreclaw as the first ranks descended upon her, blue radiance gathering between its immense talons before she drove it into the ground.

Oh dear… Gremory teleported before the flash of light erupted.

From high above, she watched lightning explode across the land in a vast, expanding ring. Her foremost golems vanished beneath it, soon followed by the tens of thousands climbing through their shattered remains, while the mountains behind the Dragon King flashed white and dissolved into incandescent dust. The electrical shockwave continued for more than a hundred miles, stripping the earth bare beneath a dome of blue brilliance until nothing remained of her army – not even the magic that had held them together.

Well… it seemed she’d have to try a bit harder then.

=======

As Tiamat broke through dimensional layers, Ichigo watched with an amused expression. He raised one hand and quickly repaired the spatial tears; couldn’t have those lying out in the open and causing unnecessary havoc for the populace down below.

Once that was done, with a flick of his Will, his office repaired itself: the marble floor and the high walls and ceiling reversed themselves back into place, as if they had never been torn apart by his furious girlfriend.

Behind him, Bennuides let out a small choking noise and continued to stare up at the ceiling, transfixed in the direction where Tiamat had been mere seconds ago.

“Shouldn’t… shouldn’t they be stopped, my Lord?”

Ichigo raised a single eyebrow and gave him a skeptical look. “By who? You volunteering?”

The man coughed into his hands and had the decency to look abashed. “I do not believe that would be wise.”

“And in that same line of thinking, I’m not getting in between my familiar and my Bishop,” Ichigo said dryly, even as he crossed his arms.

“Indeed.” And then the man gave Ichigo a shrewd look. “I do not envy you, sire.”

Ichigo snorted. “Says the guy who had four kids with his own sister.”

Bennuides straightened and put his hands behind his back. “Nothing wrong with being old-fashioned, my Lord. It was the common course amongst the earlier generations.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ichigo waved him off. “I’m not criticizing you. Anyways, get out of here and get to work on those missing villagers.”

“At once, sire.”

And Bennuides bowed at the waist, even as a magic circle appeared beneath his feet and he disappeared as he sank into it.

Ichigo then let out a sigh and briefly considered leaving Infernity to go watch Tiamat and Gremory tear into each other. But he quickly thought better of it.

It would be best if he let Tiamat assert her dominance and mark her territory on her own; she wouldn’t appreciate him interfering in what she deemed her battle.

Still… he should probably tell the kitchens to start working on a feast for her return to help lighten the mood. Given historical precedent, there would be a lot of angry sex followed by devouring everything edible in sight once Tiamat returned.

Oh, I know, I’ll order the kitchen to prepare some Italian. She really likes Florentine Manticore steaks.

=======

The ancient Dragon descended through the clouds with her jaws open, and Gremory dragged the dead from the ruined forests below them to meet her. Spires made of shambling corpses pierced high into the air, crowding the sky with interlocking bones and swollen flesh, grinding the carcasses together into enormous bodies whose many arms seized the dragon’s forelegs.

All of her irritation, all her desire to hear the Dragon King scream and see her bleed, all that rage she poured into her necromancy – ensuring that the dead felt as much pain as their would-be victim would. And it was so easy, so simple to turn their flesh poisonous and acidic to the touch.

Gremory’s dead creatures tore at the Dragon King’s scales, unleashing clouds of toxic mist that rotted everything it touched. The Old One tore through them with fang and claw, but the hordes of dead were endless – and they quickly reformed as soon as they were destroyed.

Through her demonic senses, she could sense Tiamat’s growing ire and suddenly the scales of the dragon’s throat glowed a hot blue and with a swipe of her head, the Old One unleashed a tsunami of raging blue fire.

The fire struck the foremost spires and poured through their open jaws, burning the corpses from within before their limbs could close around the dragon. Gremory felt the necromantic bindings snap one after another, their captive misery briefly swelling into something exquisite as the flames consumed them. But the pleasure soured when the burning spread through the rest of her horde, leaving her reaching for remains that had already become ash.

Her lips curled disdainfully, but nonetheless, she gorged herself on the suffering of the dead as she used their agony to fuel her magicks further.

She then used the smoke to conceal her next arcane casting, drawing blood from the burning carcasses before it could boil away.

The blood wound through the smoke in fine crimson threads, slipping toward the dragon beneath the cover of her burning dead, and Gremory spread her fingers as she sent it searching between those sapphire scales. Let the beast tear apart as many corpses as it pleased; she needed only the smallest opening, the slightest purchase upon the flesh beneath its armor, and then she would teach it what happened to creatures that dared lay their claws upon her.

But the threads found nothing.

Gremory’s lips tightened as she guided them along Tiamat’s throat, searching the places where her dead had bitten and clawed, only for blue lightning to ripple across the scales and burn her blood magic to ash. And beneath the falling soot, the sapphire hide gleamed unblemished.

Her pale features twisted into a horrid grimace as she seethed inwardly. Those worthless little carcasses had not even managed to scratch the Old One! Bah!

She swept the remains aside with a vicious gesture and reached into the earth instead, wrenching open the continent beneath the descending dragon. Fissures raced beyond the horizon as mountain ranges broke from their foundations, and Gremory hauled the enormous slabs upward until Tiamat flew between rising walls of stone. With a shrill cry, she brought them together, burying the beast beneath the collision of entire provinces while molten rock erupted from the shattered crust below.

The impact sent a ring of devastation sweeping across the world, but Gremory kept her hands clenched before her, pouring more power into the mass as she compressed it around the dragon. She would make a tomb of this miserable planet if necessary! Let the Old One lie caged under the weight of a world!

Her master might have some grievances, but surely then he would see her as the better of the two?

But then, a sapphire claw emerged through the small globe of rock she had created, and Gremory immediately poured more of her magic through her fingers, forcing the surrounding mountains inward. She churned the continent-sized moonlet into a well of gravity, creating a crushing pressure so great that all the rock became white-hot and molten. But the talons continued forward, dragging deep furrows through the incandescent rock before an immense shoulder followed them out.

A second claw broke through, and sure enough, the Dragon King managed to drag herself forward, her head erupting through molten rock along with her long neck and upper body, and she unleashed a sky-shattering roar that warped the fabric of spacetime and caused white lightning miles long to arc along Gremory’s magically held moonlet.

Gremory further twisted gravity before the dragon could spread its wings, fastening the weight of the broken continent upon its back while she drew still more earth into the working. Across the world, great slabs of the crust bent toward her spell and tore free of their roots, joining the immense procession of stone rising toward the sapphire body. Gremory drove it all inward, compressing the mass until the rock became a blazing shell around her captive.

But still… still, she could sense the Old One fighting through, barreling through the weight of a small world and her powerful magic.

And again, Tiamat broke free, her wings unfolding slowly, forcing the burning mass apart, while lightning spread along their ridges and branched through the prison she had fashioned.

The Primordial raised both of its hands, and millions of bolts of lightning gathered through the sky and landed in her waiting palms, turning her hands into miniature white suns. And with little fanfare, she slammed them down onto Gremory’s prison and the thousands of miles of molten rock exploded in a brilliant light.

She teleported before the explosion reached her, appearing high above the atmosphere, and within that same moment, she lifted her hands toward the stars and called upon all the hatred in her heart.

Undoubtedly, this was the Eldest of the Dragon Kings. The Primeval Chaos Karma Dragon whose name echoed through Time since the day of the Primordium.

But she was Lucifer’s Witch-Bride, and she was the master of sorceries incomprehensible to any below the siege of divinity.

Gremory then reached into the firmament and pulled.

The distant stars stretched into long, trembling streaks as their light bent toward her, gathering in radiant currents that streamed between her outstretched fingers. She twisted them together, wrenching their brilliance into immense lances of astral energy until the blackness around her shone white and the ruined world below lay beneath a forest of burning points.

Tiamat emerged from the atmosphere, her scales untouched, and Gremory drove the first lance toward its face.

The dragon caught it in one foreclaw.

For an instant, Gremory stared at the immense radiance held between those sapphire talons; then the claw closed, and the lance shattered in a detonation that washed across the curve of the planet. Tiamat came through the expanding light without so much as turning its head, and Gremory hurled the remaining weapons before it could draw any nearer.

Starlight rained upon the world in a relentless barrage, piercing the exposed crust and erupting from its depths in towering columns of white fire hundreds of miles high. Gremory followed the dragon with every cast, fashioning fresh lances as quickly as she spent them, until explosions rolled across entire continents and the planet’s surface disappeared beneath their brilliance.

Yet the legendary dragon still tore through the skies all the same.

Some of the lances broke against its breast, scattering astral fire across the scales; others vanished between its jaws or burst beneath a sweep of its wings. Tiamat scarcely altered her course as the distance between them narrowed, and all of it happened within the breadth of a lone second.

And for that second, Gremory found herself staring deep into those serpentine eyes.

There was something there... something both familiar and unwelcome.

The beast watched her through the falling radiance with a savage, unwavering interest, its lips drawing back whenever she moved to put another volley between them.

Gremory’s breath hitched and the hatred within her heart burned hotter as realization set in. She knew that look; she knew exactly what it was. Because she had worn it a thousand times over across the ages. Every brutal triumph and every perfected scheme had always found that look staring back at her in a mirror.

The Demon let out a warped, inhuman scream as it grabbed the next lance with its own hands, poisoning the radiant starlight with all the malice it could muster until it ran black.

She dares?

She dares?

She dares to view her – the Crimson Scourge, Satan’s Bishop, as prey!?

The ignominy, the indignity! Gremory’s face twisted hatefully as she let loose the lance with a monstrous bellow, and it pierced through space until it collided with the scaled breast of the Dragon King.

A titanic explosion of power erupted in all directions, a small crimson star of malice that sent a tidal wave of energy crashing down onto the already ruined world and blasting deep into its mantle.

She heaved a breath in her maddened frenzy; reduced to providing sport for this jealous fossil!?

“He chose me!” she screamed against her own red magic. “He called me to his side! I’m the one he wanted!”

And the Dragon King answered with a brutal roar that warped the ebb and flow of reality, and the next thing she knew, Gremory was forced to teleport away as Tiamat’s jaws closed upon the darkness where she had glided.

Gremory reformed back onto the planet’s surface, one hand pressed against her throat, even as she looked up at the Old One shining far above, surrounded by a deep azure aura. While her lance had struck true, the broken scales were already mending – the immense vitality of a dragon seeing its flesh and form restored to their prime state.

And then the Dragon descended like a bolt of lightning from the heavens.

Gremory tore her hand away from her throat with a snarl and called upon the greater mass of herself within her Inner Sanctum, flooding the atmosphere below with so much miasma that the burning continents vanished beneath it.

She would strip the beast of those beautiful scales. She would tear them loose one by one and leave the Old One naked before their master, so that he might see what lay beneath all that sapphire majesty! So that he would see the broken, miserable failure that she was!

Because that was what she was – a failed mother! A sullied and broken bloodline bereft of pride and dignity!

Gremory’s blackness then spread from horizon to horizon, thickening until the whole sky hung swollen above the earth, and Gremory poured her curses into it with a fury that set the planet shaking. Everything her miasma touched began to dissolve; the already shattered surface sank into its own foundations as the air grew heavy enough to crush them.

And with a flourish of her wrist, she forced the sky down.

Like Ouranos descending to embrace Gaea, the black vault bent toward the ruined earth, its immense curvature sagging until sky and land met in a devouring embrace. The world beneath her disappeared, swallowed whole as she pressed the weight of the warped sky into its shattered crust, and through it all she followed the sapphire gleam moving beneath her darkness.

She dragged more of the spell into its path, thickening the miasma wherever those wings turned. Let the beast struggle to find her now! Let it drown beneath a world’s worth of ruin while she-

Tiamat unleashed another roar, becoming a shining star of white radiance that burned against her darkness with cerulean majesty.

Eyes wide, Gremory instantly moved as blue fire erupted in all directions – like a sapphire sun pouring its fury upon all things in its path.

She reappeared farther away, fury and murderous hate pulsing through the veins of her forehead as her fingers dug into her own palms, only to see the dragon turn within the collapsing sky and begin climbing toward her.

And all her black miasma burned away beneath the Dragon King’s majesty.

Whole masses of Gremory’s power peeled away from the enormous body as it rose, burning blue along their edges before they disintegrated, and she found herself pulling the remainder back toward her. There was no sense in wasting it where the creature could simply—

She stopped the retreating darkness and flung it forward again with a scream.

“Come, then, you ancient whore! Come and see what I–”

Her own words caught in her throat as she saw those eyes again, those damnable eyes!

She was laughing.

That accursed creature was laughing! All her magic and rage… and the Dragon was… entertained?

And for one moment, for one single moment, she recalled a critical detail that she had overlooked. Just as she was her master's Bishop, this was her master’s familiar. This was Satan’s dragon.

Gremory’s heart shuddered.

=======

Ah...

How long had it been? How long had it been since she truly managed to unfurl her wings? Constrained she was by the skeins between the living and dead, and more importantly, the careful need to not invoke the Slaying Spear's ire - she had held back the bulk of her majesty against the Fallen and their foolish lord.

But now?

Laughter rang dark in her heart, darker than the moonless night promised by her beloved's soul. After the renewed wounds of Ba'al's treachery - at last, at last she could cast aside the visor of mother and lover.

At last: to be a monster once more.

Tiamat had to admit - she had grown soft in her beloved's arms, in his attentive care and ever-loving heart. Though she did not begrudge it; nay, she relished it. Love was never a thing to deny. But a woman's wiles were complex, and a wyrm's heart was inherently cruel.

And this - this - little Demon thought itself her equal? A challenge? A rival? It thought it could worm its way into her beloved's heart? Had it become so deluded by young Sirzechs' existence, or had it become addled by its own vile nature, that it presumed itself the equal of the Sins it worshiped? That just because they spoke with it and made use of it, that it actually had any value?

Oh, the delightful folly of misguided children.

But such folly was her boon; it was - ironically - quite the grace. How easy it was for her to fill her heart with playful savagery and cruelty again because of this miserable creature. A pathetic and miserable wretch of a soul that crawled mewling before Lucifer's feet.

She was the Undying Storm! The eldest and most powerful of the Royalty amongst Wyrmkin! Even Sirzechs and her beloved could not match her without unleashing their true forms!

But what joy it brought her to hunt this creature. For all its sorcery, for all its mastery, what good did it do before endless Primordial power? It was as she had told her beloved: parlor tricks were for those who do not possess unfiltered, raw might.

And it cast spell after spell, twisting its arcane vileness with every breath, and Tiamat tore through it all with glee and humor. And with every failure, she could sense the gnawing doubt grow in the Demon's heart, and doubt is the seed which flowers into fear.

Sometimes the prey turns and nips us. It's a small, amusing thing.

But she had mused enough – back to the fray, back to the hunt.

Tiamat swept her wings backward and plunged through the next barrage, allowing the crimson blasts to break against her breast as she followed the fleeing Demon. Narrow beams of green light struck her face, their curses searching fruitlessly between her scales, and she let them spend themselves while watching the little movements of Gremory’s hands. How hurried they had become! Those elegant gestures had lost much of their flourish, and the witch scarcely finished one working before beginning another.

She could have caught it already, of course, but there was pleasure in watching the incredulity and anger grow in the prey’s eyes.

Gremory then vanished behind a wall of black fire, and Tiamat turned before the Demon reappeared above her shoulder. She struck through its hastily raised shields and closed her claws around its body, feeling the sudden violence of its resistance as lightning gathered between her fingers. The witch’s mouth opened, perhaps to curse her, perhaps to scream in its insanity - but Tiamat decided to press just hard enough, and one lone talon shattered the dark magic and cleaved right through the witch’s right arm.

The limb fell with an arc of demonic blood, and Tiamat kept her eager gaze on the Demon’s stricken face. But there, would she dare again lay a finger on her beloved? On her heart?

Gremory shrieked and dissolved as it raced away as a shadow.

Tiamat allowed it to gather some distance away, watching the pale outline of a shoulder emerge through the smoke, and only then sent a bolt of lightning through the forming flesh. The Demon convulsed as blue radiance spread through its body, unraveling the magic before the new limb could finish growing.

Its remaining hand clamped over the ruined shoulder, and Tiamat bared her fangs in delight.

But the little witch then slashed its hand through the air, opening a crimson passage whose distant end tasted of the Underworld. But instantly Tiamat pressed her Will into the world around them, filling it with the weight of her presence, and the passage snapped shut before the Demon could enter it. Another opened farther away and collapsed just as quickly, leaving the witch suspended beside the fading wound with its fingers still hooked through empty air.

Spoil her hunt? Nay, perish the thought. She had yet to have her fill of brutality.

Tiamat approached with slow beats of her wings, savoring the way Gremory turned to keep her in sight. The Demon retreated behind a succession of shields, thickening them whenever she drew nearer, and she broke each beneath a measured stroke of her thunder-infused claws. There was no need to hurry now. The creature had helped her scour this world bare, and there was nowhere upon it that she could not follow.

In a desperate effort, Gremory hurled the barriers at her, but Tiamat drove through their detonation and seized its other dainty arm between her colossal fangs, instantly severing it.

The witch twisted violently and let out a scream filled with the cries of a hundred echoing voices.

Green and black miasma erupted as the Demon abandoned its physical flesh, becoming wholly a squirming mass of corruption and evil.

And it launched itself, seeking to engulf Tiamat’s head, filling the spaces between her horns with writhing tendrils that sought her eyes and nostrils. She closed her jaws upon the thickest portion and felt the Demon recoil through the whole of its exposed existence, its sorcery lashing wildly against her face while she tore a great mouthful free.

They struck the ground together, splitting the blackened plain beneath Tiamat’s weight as Gremory spread around her in a furious, choking frame. The Demon thrust spears of condensed darkness against her throat and wound itself around her forelegs, but she planted her claws within it and pulled, rending its substance into streaming pieces before they could rejoin. Every fragment struggled toward the greater whole, and she snapped them out of the air, burning those she did not catch beneath successive bursts of lightning.

Gremory gathered beneath her breast and tried to hurl her away, concentrating its power into an eruption that shattered the already broken land for hundreds of miles around them. Tiamat merely lowered herself into it, her wings braced against the blast while her jaws found the dense, struggling heart of the mass. She shook it between her teeth, dragging its scattered substance after it, then slammed it against the ground and pinned it beneath a claw until the green radiance flickered and the darkness began contracting.

When she lifted her foot, the witch lay naked upon the broken stone, its limbs restored but its chest heaving with the effort. Hatred burned within those emerald eyes, yet beneath it Tiamat could finally see what all that shrieking indignation had sought to conceal.

How sweet was the flower that fruited dread.

Four spears of lightning descended around her claw, piercing Gremory’s hands and ankles and chaining its magic and rendering it useless. The Demon arched against them, its flesh briefly darkening as it attempted to dissolve, but the radiance followed it inward and forced the borrowed shape to hold.

Tiamat lowered one talon, its length greater than the body beneath it, and carefully drew its tip from the witch’s throat to its navel. A shallow red line opened beneath the touch, and she watched in amusement as stillness followed, the Demon’s furious attention fixed upon a claw that had scarcely needed to move.

Her laughter rolled low across the ruined plain, cruel in its delight.

“I am one of few left to remember what you were before the First Flame broke you. The children may think you some ancient monster, but to me, you will always be that lost, broken, little girl.”

“Miserable beast! Failure of a mother! I am immortal! You cannot kill me!” Gremory screamed, wrenching against the lightning. “And even then! Our master would never allow it!”

Tiamat bared her fangs in amusement, lowering her head until the witch could see its own small reflection within her eye.

“Allow? Foolish child, what do you know of what my Heart would allow? But even without him, I have spent millennia plotting the demise of the First Demon, the demise of mine own son. Think you yourself beyond my reach? I have my ways.”

The Demon’s lips moved again, but Tiamat had heard quite enough. She raised her forefoot above the pinned body, letting its shadow settle across that hateful face while the lightning held firm beneath her.

“Oh, little girl, remember this; remember the mercy of this Tiamat. And remember the anguish it brought thee.”

Then she brought her foot down, shattering the witch’s body beneath her claws.

=======

Yasaka stood beside the garden pond, watching the half-moon tremble upon waters that had scarcely stirred all evening. A cool breeze brushed the leaves above her, carrying the scent of damp earth and flowers, but the quiet did little to ease the heaviness within her chest. Even here, beneath the familiar branches of her own gardens, she found herself thinking of the latest reports from the provinces.

Another bridge destroyed, another road rendered impassable, another town whose inhabitants would spend the night beneath hastily raised shelters. Their sorcerers could restore much of the damage once the fighting moved elsewhere, but rebuilding required time and resources that were already being consumed by the war. And there were losses for which neither magic nor wealth offered any remedy.

Her fingers tightened within her sleeves as she watched the reflected moon.

Then her eyes snapped toward the trees.

All nine tails lashed to her left, their golden lengths crossing the garden faster than the leaves could stir. White cloth flashed between them as a figure sprang backward, narrowly escaping the first sweep before another tail struck the place where his feet had landed.

“Hime, wait!”

Yasaka’s lips pulled back, and chakra began boiling through her body as the weight of her presence descended upon the garden.

“I have no mercy for one who has betrayed me, Akihiko!”

Her tails pursued him through the air, striking from either side while he twisted frantically between them. He cleared the nearest branches with a desperate leap, but she turned at the waist and sent three tails sweeping over his head, forcing him down toward the path.

“Hime, stop! I didn’t betray you!”

The lie only sharpened her fury. One tail caught his ankle before he could spring away, and the others closed around him in swift succession, binding his arms against his sides as golden light burned through his white robes.

He cried out, his body straining within the tightening coils, but Yasaka merely narrowed her eyes and poured more power into them. Flesh blackened beneath her grip, the stench of burning cloth and hair filled the air, and within seconds his shape collapsed into ash that scattered across the stones.

But before she could loosen her tails, an aggrieved voice spoke behind her.

“Look what they turned you into.”

Yasaka turned sharply, her eyes widening before they narrowed with renewed contempt.

Akihiko stood upon the pond, whole and unmarked, the water rippling beneath his feet and breaking the reflected moon into wavering fragments. His six tails hung behind him while he regarded her with an expression of wounded sorrow that made her want to tear his face apart all over again.

“Filled with so much anger and hate,” he continued sadly. “Just like that monster they caged you to.”

Yasaka raised her chin, looking down her nose at the apparition.

“Illusory lunar magic,” she said with disgust. “Do you not even have the courage to stand before me anymore, Akihiko?”

So that was how he had found his way into her gardens. The wards had not admitted a body, nor had anything physically crossed the palace boundaries; he had reached through the moonlight already lying within them. Her gaze briefly fell upon the pond before returning to his face.

The six-tailed fox shook his head.

“Do you even hear yourself? How easily, how readily, you attack your oldest friend?”

“My so-called friend who has so wholly betrayed me by allying with my enemies?” she sneered. “The same enemies who attack my home, endanger my people and tear apart my Empire?”

Frustration broke through his sorrow as he glanced toward the palace, then back at her.

“They’re not your – dammit, hime! Please, I don’t want to fight. Just listen to me!”

As though she owed him that courtesy. As though he could stand in her gardens, insult her husband and plead friendship while the consequences of his allegiances bled through her country!

Her chakra rose, and sunlight began shining through her skin.

“You have nothing worth hearing, you backstabbing traitor.”

Golden brilliance spread across the paths and flowerbeds, drawing the shadows close beneath the trees. Akihiko flinched as its edge reached the pond, his white robes wavering while his feet became briefly transparent above the water.

“Hime, please! Just listen to me! You don’t know what’s coming! You need to get out of here! You and Kunou both! Let me help; let me protect you!”

At the mention of her daughter, Yasaka’s tails rose behind her.

“I will protect myself, I will protect my daughter, I will protect my Empire from all threats,” she said coldly. “Even from you!”

“No!” His expression twisted with sudden, furious desperation. “It’s not just here! Yasaka, everyone is in–”

She swept one hand toward the pond, and brilliant rays of sunlight consumed his image. His face vanished beneath the radiance, followed by his robes and tails, until nothing remained upon the water save a widening circle of ripples.

Yasaka let out a low growl, holding the light for several moments longer before allowing it to recede.

By then, guards were descending into the garden.

“Your Highness, is everything all right?”

She cast them an irritated glance, an angry response already gathering upon her tongue before she restrained it. They had answered her power promptly; Akihiko’s choice of sorcery had circumvented the protections they were responsible for maintaining. Berating them would accomplish nothing.

“Illuminate the pond with sun stones so that it cannot reflect moonlight,” she commanded, though she could not quite strip the anger from her voice.

The guards bowed immediately. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Yasaka turned toward the palace, her tails swishing behind her as she walked. She would have the wards examined as well, though given Akihiko’s association with the Void, there was no certainty he would not find some other means of intruding.

And despite her fury, the desperation in his voice lingered unpleasantly within her thoughts.

She drew a slow breath as she passed beneath the doorway, but something dark settled beneath her ribs. Akihiko’s return could hardly herald anything good, and she already had a country tearing itself apart to contend with.

She just hoped everything would turn out all right.

=======

As Tiamat resolved to return to the Underworld, her storm continued moving around her, yet something colder than its rain had touched the back of her neck, slipping beneath the gathered strength of her body without meeting resistance. She drew her power closer and slowly lowered her gaze.

No more than a wing’s length away, a small figure stood upon a narrow shelf of volcanic glass beside the molten trench.

A small umbrella rested against one slender shoulder, its pale paper immaculate beneath the falling ash. Below it stood a the palest woman in black and yellow silk, untouched by the heat rising from the broken land, and those far, far too familiar serpentine eyes regarded her with an affection that made the cold consume her heart.

“Hello, dear. It’s been quite some time.”

Tiamat let out a shaky breath.

“Ophis.”

=======

Kunou woke to a bright light spilling across her pillow, and for a sleepy moment she wondered whether it was morning already. But beyond her window the sky was still dark, and when she climbed out of bed to look, she found her mother standing in the garden, surrounded by guards.

Had something happened? Okaa-sama had looked so tired lately, and there were always people coming to speak with her, even when she was supposed to be eating. She knew they were at war, but even then, her mother had always seemed so invincible, so perfect in her majesty and power. She had never known her to be anything but. Her mother was her role model, the person she aspired to be when she grew up!

And that same desire to stand equal to her mother one day had Kunou hurry out of her bedroom in concern, her bare feet pattering down the hall as she headed toward the garden stairs. But the lamps seemed to grow dimmer with every step, and as the seconds ticked by, she could scarcely see the floor beneath her.

She stopped, clutching her nightdress as she looked back.

Her bedroom was gone, and where its open door should have been, there was only darkness. Kunou felt a lance of fear strike through her heart and the hairs on her neck stood straight up.

Her lower lip began to tremble as something cold pressed against her, and she jumped in fright but didn’t dare to let out a sound – terrified that whatever was in the dark might find her. She held her breath, fearing to even breathe too loudly, and she could hear her heart hammer in her chest.

And never in her life had she wished so strongly to be with her mother, with her onii-san a world away.

Suddenly, the echo of footsteps sounded ahead, followed by a long, unmistakable hiss.

And before she could blink, a kitsune abruptly emerged from the darkness, six tails swaying behind him. Kunou took a terrified step back as his slanted eyes, nearly shut, fell upon her. And her breath froze in her lungs when she saw across his shoulders a black snake whose violet eyes remained fixed upon her.

Kunou’s stomach tightened. She might not be her mother’s equal yet, but she was still a priestess of Amaterasu-sama, and everything within her recoiled from the wrongness emanating from the kitsune before her.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the stranger said, his smile widening with a hunger that made her feel sick and queasy. “You look just like your mother.”

“Wh-who are you?” she whispered, trembling.

His smile stretched farther.

“You can call me daddy.”

And Kunou screamed as the snake lunged.

=======

A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter, I have not been feeling well.

I wanted to do two things with this chapter: 1) For all her scheming and ambitions, Gremory still has insecurities, traumas and fears that drove her to Lucifer. 2) Tiamat's a fucking monster: the years with Ichigo did not undo the thousands of years of savage brutality. I felt that her maternal aspects were overshadowing other parts of her character - the ones that were more prominent in the earlier parts of the story.

As I said, I've not been well - nothing serious - but if the quality of this chapter is not my usual, please let me know, I'll do a rewrite.

Chapter 86 Illustration