Chapter Text
The mechanical hum and rhythmic clanking of the engine reverberated throughout the interior of the airship. A constant noise that was reassuring. The flight itself was smooth with little turbulence, unlike the time when Silver was at the helm and had accidentally disengaged the autopilot system.
It had been a rough, stomach-churning trip back to Cube and an even worse landing experience when Silver had no piloting skills to speak of. As damaged as the ship was, it was, unfortunately, not enough to set off the Magic Council's Black Lacrima Magic Missile, which Silver had secretly hoped for. Trigger whatever catastrophe the Magic Council was seemingly desperate to achieve with their sacrificial crew and wipe out the Demon King and Deliora.
All of the dings, torn holes, and missing wing parts were mostly patched up or replaced, thanks to the reborn Franmalth greedily devouring the souls of the human crew and gaining their technical knowledge on the airship's design and operation. Along with the acquired souls came some of the most protected secrets of the Magic Council. However, knowledge on the Black Lacrima was scarce from the five individuals sent to their deaths. It was no surprise with the project highly confidential that only a select few of the Magic Council knew of its existence.
The desire to learn more about the Black Hole Project devolved into a crazed obsession for Franmalth, putting the reconstruction on the Death Ray on hold. The yellow one-eyed demon was starving for more 'fat and juicy souls', as he put it, and even proposed how beneficial it could be to learn how to control, as well as create, Black Lacrima for themselves. Permission was soon granted by His Evil Highness for Franmalth to do as he pleased.
Which led to Silver's current predicament; forced to accompany Franmalth on a mission to the Magic Council's Headquarters in Era, Fiore.
"You wished to venture elsewhere with that ship, did you not?" the Demon King had questioned Silver back at the castle. It was asked more out of His Wickedness's own amusement having already known Silver's true thoughts on the assigned task. "A slight reprieve from this dreary place. Pay the Magic Council a visit and personally 'thank' them for their gift. As Captain of the Ex-Gates, you are responsible for bringing your one-eyed minion alive with the necessary information he desires."
With great reluctance, Silver joined Franmalth aboard the refurbished airship, renamed from 'Sky Seeker' to 'Vengeance'. Also joining on the mission was Shade – for no other reason than to be Silver's personal shadow and constant – and Jackal, recently reborn and delivered from Hell's Core, all tied up like a present from Lamy.
Lamy got a little creative with Jackal, reconstructing him into a hulking, twelve-foot beast who looked like a cross between a bear and a tiger. Due to the Demon King's corruption, Jackal's ferocity and bloodlust was amplified to the extreme, resulting in a mindless, berserk monster that needed to be bound in heavy chains and kept under stasis by powerful dark magic, lest he'd go on an explosive rampage. A volatile package; he was currently locked away in the ship's cargo bay until it was time to 'drop the bomb', as Franmalth loved to say.
They were a misfit 'team' of four. Small, they may be in number, they were also a nightmarish force to be reckoned with.
Franmalth, especially, not just in appearance alone, but due to his enhanced ability to take the perfect form of his captured souls. Old Franmalth's transformations were faulty; his one big, demon eye was always present in every form he took so he was easily distinguished. New Franmalth's morphing ability improved upon that with him now capable of morphing into the exact copy of his victims, down to their unique mannerisms.
Lamy had done New Franmalth dirty in the demon looks department. She often toyed with the redesign of her fellow male Etherions during their resurrection; usually giving them more handsome, human features to appeal to her fantasies. Since the takeover by the Demon King, most of her creations became eyesores and Franmalth was no exception.
Franmalth still had a body of a yellow, rounded, one-eyed, fungal being with the addition of an extra pair of skinny arms sprouting from his back. His face was more grotesque with his wide, red lips taking more than half his head and his mouth filled with rows of needle-like teeth. Heavy stumps were his feet and pimply bumps and twisted little horns adorned his once smooth skin. He was ugly, but Silver heard no complaints, likely because Franmalth had yet to see himself in a mirror. Not that Franmalth needed to care about looks when he excelled in other talents. With two pairs of flexible, stretchy arms, Franmalth could perform multiple tasks at once, allowing him to fly the airship on his own, freeing Silver from any responsibilities other than supervision. Though even that was very minimal and boring.
To pass the time, Silver took a literal backseat at the disabled weapons console and stared out of the window broodingly.
The sea of clouds rolled by as the sun and moon traded places over the skies of Seven. At the speed they were moving, Silver counted two days before they finally passed over the border into Fiore where the sea opened up to the lush, greener land below. After seeing nothing but a frigid, desolate wasteland and cold, dark stone for endless months, it was rather nice to see the natural world still thriving beyond the touches of corruption. However, how much longer would life continue to flourish when the Demon King loomed nearby?
"When will we arrive at their Headquarters?" Silver questioned, speaking for the first time since their departure. His voice was a hoarse growl from lack of use.
A deep gurgling came from Franmalth's throat as he turned his head and upper body almost fully around. His one red eye gleamed and his large mouth twisted into a menacing smile, rows of teeth glistening. "Exactly twenty-one hours and forty-two minutes, Captain, sir," he addressed Silver in a resentful snarl. "If all goes well, we will be there Thursday, mid-morning. The main big shots in the Council should be in their high chairs by then. A delectable feast of souls awaiting to be devoured. Kehehehe!"
Silver grunted in response, irritated by Franmalth's still annoying, giddy laugh. "And they're the ones who know all about that Black Hole Project?"
Franmalth's grin grew wider, showing every one of his sharp teeth in a menacing display. "At least one is head of their Magic and Technology Research Department. He would know more than the rest. Though, it doesn't matter in the end. I'll have each and every one of their souls. Hey, you know, with the fall of the Chairman and the Councilors, we can even activate Face as Mard Geer had originally planned!"
Planning to kill hundreds of people was already bad enough. But activating Face to disable the continent's magic was even worse. Most of Ishgar would be sitting ducks against the Demon King if that were to happen.
Damn it all, how'd I get into this mess? Silver wished he had crashed the airship beyond repair, but he was, unfortunately, blessed with cursed luck.
Sighing, he took off his helm and ran an anxious hand through his hair, mussing it up with aggravation. He, more or less, tossed his helm onto the nearby console with a heavy clang and heard something quietly beep. Next, a small panel by his left knee clicked open ajar. He nudged the door open and found a stash of books and papers. Boring manuals and unimportant military documents, it looked like, as he glanced at the titles and sifted through the pages of notes. Hidden behind it all, was something more interesting.
"Someone had a sweet tooth," he remarked, pulling out a stash of assorted candy bars and dumping it all on the console. One caught his eye. Though the wrapper and logo had since been updated, the bar still had the same name and style of colours. Chocofingers; used to be Gray's and Mika's favourite candy.
The happy memories were few and fading, but seeing the candy bar brought him a glimpse of his past. He remembered not liking the chocolate; far too sweet for his taste, which made it a very good bribe to get Mika or Gray to help him with numerous small favours. A whole finger for getting dad a beer; half a finger for a hug or kiss.
Silver picked up the Chocofingers, his wistful smile fleeting when long, skinny, yellow fingers grasped onto another candy bar in the pile.
"Captain Hawthorne's secret stash," commented Franmalth, his arm soundly snapping back. He twisted his arm around so he could get a closer look, a bemused gleam in his eye. "For a man with such dignity and honour, his greatest weakness was chocolate, of all things." The demon's voice warbled in mid-speech as his face began to melt. His extra arms curled up into his back and his whole body shrank and reformed like living clay, quickly transforming into the human known as Captain Hawthorne, fully dressed in the pilot's uniform.
"Never left on mission without them, even if it was his last," said Franmalth in the calm, authoritative voice of the seasoned pilot. He stroked his graying, braided beard, and sniffed the candy bar like a new cigar.
Silver raised an eyebrow at the strange quirk. Had he not witnessed Franmalth's transformation, he would have easily mistaken the impostor as the real Captain.
Franmalth started to peel back the wrapper when there was a loud beeping coming from the communications console. A green light was flashing next to the main monitor with large blinking text.
"What's this? A call from Headquarters," Franmalth remarked, quickly switching seats from the helm to communications. "Oh yes, we're within range of their Sky Radar. They know we've entered their skies. Apologies, Captain, sir," he waved a shooing hand at Silver, "but I need you to leave the bridge and stay out of sight. And take that vile mutt with you." Beneath a stern brow, human eyes narrowed at the black and white wolf curled up on the floor by Silver.
A little annoyed by Franmalth's tone, Silver glared, but didn't argue. He grabbed his helm by a horn as he got out of his seat and pocketed the Chocofingers still in his hand into his belt pouch. Shade let out a short, throaty growl in Franmalth's direction before getting up to follow Silver out the door at the back of the bridge.
Arms crossed, Silver rested his back against the wall of pipes behind the doorway, peeking partway inside. Shade sat on his haunches across from Silver, ears perked. Together, they eavesdropped on the call.
From his angle, Silver could make out half of the face of an older, white-bearded man on the communication's monitor.
"This is Commander Stiltson of the Magic Council Headquarters Sky Fleet. Captain Hawthorne, is that really you?" the man questioned, skeptical.
Franmalth soundly grunted and made a salute. "Yes, Commander. Captain Hawthorne of the Sky Seeker reporting."
"Captain, explain yourself," the man demanded, visibly leaning closer. "Your unit was not to return until your mission–"
"Mission was completed, Commander," Franmalth cut in, his tone bold and assertive. "Five days ago. Though victory was ours, the Sky Seeker has suffered much loss. I am the sole survivor."
"What did you say?!" the Commander exclaimed. There was a murmur of voices in the background. Stiltson cleared his throat, silencing those hidden from view. "Then the Black Hole Project has done its purpose? The target eliminated?"
"Affirmative," said Franmalth with a curt nod, clasping his hands upon the console below the monitor. "The Missile worked beyond our expectations. The Eclipse Demon and its main forces fell within the radius of the explosion."
"And the dragons?"
"All but one were eliminated. The surviving dragon gave chase and damaged my ship, but not enough to hinder our narrow escape."
A pause. "I see. What happened… to your crew?"
Shaking his head, Franmalth breathed a dramatic sigh, one hand rubbing his face in an act of weariness. "A minion of the demon was able to infiltrate the ship without our notice sometime during our escape from the dragon. A sneaky wretch. It took us by surprise. Samwell, Harris, Maro, and Law… each fought bravely. They provided enough of a distraction to allow me to slay the demon from behind. Unfortunately, their wounds were too severe and I could not save either of them…"
Another pause. Long enough that Silver wondered if the Commander suspected Franmalth's story.
"A harrowing ordeal..." the old man finally commented, his voice low and gruff from remorse. "Their lives will not be forgotten for the peace they've helped bring to this world. Fiore can sleep well knowing we do not need to keep worshipping angels to protect us from evil. It is… an astounding feat you have survived this mission, Captain. The Eclipse Demon, truly gone." A great relief could be felt in his tone as well as from the murmuring coming from the background.
Silver could only pity the poor fools.
"You must be exhausted," said the Commander, visibly leaning away from the monitor. "What have you done with the bodies?"
"I've moved them into the cargo bay, Commander," said Franmalth solemnly.
"And the demon? Is the body still intact?"
A quiet grumbling from Franmalth as he pretended to be appalled. "All that's left of that fiend is an arm. Don't tell me… You wish to examine it?"
"It would be a highly valuable specimen for Org and his Research Department. Preserve what's left of it. Now hurry back to the hanger for a well deserved rest. I expect a full report by the end of the week. I will inform the Chairman and the Council of our victory. There will be a celebration in your honour."
Franmalth nodded with a sharp salute. "Yes, Commander."
"Skies guide you home, Captain Hawthorne. Commander out." The monitor blinked to a black screen before flickering to its normal display of digital numbers.
Franmalth started to laugh, his human voice morphing to the hysterical cackle of his demonic being as he transformed back to his normal self. He waved his arms in the air in triumph while happily bounding over to the main controls. "Did you see that?! Those idiots fell for it! A grand performance, wouldn't you say, Captain, sir?" His malicious grin was aimed at Silver who was making his way back to his seat.
"Frightening," Silver admitted, masking his dread under his stoic expression. He dropped into his seat like a rock, weighed down by his noisy armour. Shade chose to lay back down on the floor close by, feigning sleep. Being a lazy wolf was more comfortable than standing stiff as a knight.
Silver tossed his helm back on the console and let out an exasperated sigh. "They easily fell for it, huh?" he remarked, utterly disappointed in the Commander. He should be angry, but didn't have any energy or sympathy, for that matter. Most of what made him human had died with him long ago. Hopelessness and despair, however, were a few lovely emotions that lingered. People were going to die. The Magic Council was doomed and Silver had no choice but to play a part in their demise.
"Humans are so stupid. So gullible!" Franmalth spat, rubbing his main hands together giddily. "They will believe anything they want to hear. That's how you trick them. They're rolling out the red carpet for us thinking His Evilness is truly gone! With their guards completely down, it won't take long to annihilate their entire Headquarters. Oh, I can't wait! Kehehehe!"
The demon proceeded to stuff the candy bar he had started to unwrap earlier into his drooling maw. He noisily chewed, smacking and licking his big lips, and gulped down his food. "Hmm. Not bad," he muttered before stretching his long skinny arms to grab the rest of the candy off of Silver's console.
Over the next hour, Silver listened to Franmalth scarf down all the candy one after the other, sloppily chewing with his mouth open. It was blissful silence from the demon after that.
In an increasingly foul mood, Silver watched the remaining hours pass by, seeing the landscape below change from mountains to forests; from open plains to lakes and rivers; from farmland to towns and sprawling cities. When night fell, lights from the towns and cities were brighter than the stars that speckled the sky. Seeing the beauty of the world from the heavens did little to ease his apprehension.
Dawn came and went. The final hours were counting down fast with the rising of the sun. In the light of the sunrise, a large city surrounded by mountains appeared into view. Solid walls protected the city's entire perimeter and a castle was built in the middle of a lake. Most odd was a tall, magical barrier around a massive, smouldering purple pit located within the western area of the city.
"Look at that! It's Crocus, capital of Fiore," said Franmalth, chuckling. "You can still see the scars His Evilness has left on this pathetic kingdom."
"He caused that giant burning hole in the ground?" Silver inquired, pointing out the window.
"Going by the reports the Council has on the incident, they claim the Angel blew up the mountain and the arena on top in order to stop the dragons coming out of a Demon Gate. You could say His Evilness was partly responsible for that hole! Perhaps we should make a quick stop here and finish what he started!"
Silver scoffed and shot Franmalth a bitter look. "And blow our cover? Attacking the Capital will alert the Magic Council."
"Hm, you're right," Franmalth grumbled, furiously scratching the side of his mouth with a twiggy finger. "We have the advantage of surprise and shouldn't waste this opportunity. If all goes well, then we can circle back and wipe out the capital! The soul of the king might prove valuable."
"Doubt he would be hoarding anything useful," said Silver, waving a dismissive hand, trying to dissuade Franmalth from that train of thought. According to His Dark Highness, it was not King Toma who ruled over Fiore in terms of power, but the Magic Council due to the ultimate weapons under their command, with Etherion and Face the only ones known so far. If Silver had to guess, the Council was the bigger hindrance to the Demon King's plan, second to the rumoured angel.
"Nevertheless, more souls the merrier! For me, that is." Franmalth licked his chocolate-stained lips with his fat, repulsive tongue and patted his belly.
Silver hid his disgust behind his hand that he ran down his face. "If we survive the attack on Headquarters. Ship included..." he grumbled, desperately wanting them to fail.
Franmalth bellowed with cocky laughter. "What makes you think we won't? The Council least suspects their 'Captain Hawthorne' returning from the front lines. They believe they've won. In two more hours, we will arrive at Era into open arms. The concealment runes I've placed all over the ship will hide our true presence. They won't have time to retaliate!"
After those two hours, the city of Era was in full view under the mid-morning sun. A city on par with the capital of Fiore in terms of size and magnificence. The main city was built around a single, tall mountain and atop that flat plateau was an enormous white building with a signature blue roof. It was six stories tall with a distinct east and west wing and twin towers on both sides. There was a central grandiose entryway with statues on either side of the main walkway. The Magic Council Headquarters was in sight and Vengeance was gradually dropping in altitude towards it.
Franmalth glanced at the navigation panel and pushed a couple buttons on the main helm, a wide grin on his face. "I've adjusted the autopilot's flight path so Vengeance will fly directly above Headquarters, loop around once, and then land safely in an empty field. This will give us plenty of time to make our final preparations."
In a hurry, Franmalth left the ship to fly itself and bounded towards the door of the bridge. He was already hopping down the ladder to the lower deck before Silver and Shade got up to follow. Down the ladder and through the corridor below deck, the pair entered the cargo bay at the very back of the ship. It was empty with the exception of the monstrous, twelve-foot tall, brown and orange striped demon chained in the middle of a pulsing, dark purple magic circle.
Helm upon his head, Silver waited near the doorway with Shade next to him, the boy standing firm as a black knight. They left Franmalth to deal with Jackal.
Franmalth stepped into the magic circle and stretched his main right arm towards Jackal's bear-like muzzle that was chained shut. With a loud thwack, Franmalth flicked a finger against Jackal's nose, placing a glowing red rune.
Red, beastly eyes snapped open. Large, pointed, black tufted ears flickered. A low, deep growl rumbled from Jackal's throat as his thick, striped-haired mane bristled. His black nose soundly sniffed the air and his eyes narrowed, quickly identifying Franmalth and the others in the bay. Mouth still chained shut, the beast demon bared his fangs in an angry snarl and started to scream, his muffled words incomprehensible. He could only wiggle his head slightly, the stasis spell still in place for most of his body.
Franmalth cackled at Jackal's struggles. "Try all you want, you will not be getting free just yet. Now, now, pay attention to me!" Franmalth repeatedly snapped his fingers and raised his voice to near-shrieking, making Jackal's ears noticeably twitch and flatten against his head.
It took several minutes before Jackal finally realized he wasn't getting anywhere. Mouth foaming and thick saliva dripping down his chin, Jackal continued to snarl with every heavy breath as he glared at Franmalth.
"Listen here, Jackal," Franmalth began, snapping his fingers as if training a dog, "we've reached the Magic Council Headquarters. Do you remember your objective from your last life? Before Tartaros was sidetracked by His Great Evilness?"
Jackal's response was a seething growl and flying spittle. He was back at struggling.
"Hey! Hey!" Franmalth shouted, snapping his fingers on all of his hands.
Silver winced at the noise that reverberated throughout the bay. It took some more shrieking from Franmalth before he was convinced Jackal still had a few brain cells to understand their mission. Silver was highly dubious and put up his guard as Franmalth moved to free Jackal.
As joyful as a child, the yellow demon hopped over to the main console on the left wall and pulled a heavy lever with a grunt. A warning siren blared along with flashing red lights. Gears groaned and metal screeched horrifically as the cargo ramp door started to lower with one side grinding against the damaged frame, creating a dazzling shower of sparks.
A strong wind blasted into the bay, whipping back Silver's cape. The city of Era was quickly passing by below as Vengeance continued on its designated path. Silver wasn't sure how much farther away they were to the central mountain, but Franmalth could somehow tell.
The yellow demon bounced back into Jackal's magic circle. With a flick of a hand and wave of another, Franmalth dispelled the stasis spell, dispersing the magic circle in a burst of purple light particles.
The instant Jackal was freed, Franmalth pointed and waved towards the opening while bellowing, "Go now! Now! You big, dumb oaf! Get moving! We went over this!"
The hulking demon snarled and took one stomping step towards Franmalth, the massive claws on his feet tearing into the metal flooring. Franmalth's angry shouting and frantic gesturing eventually got through Jackal's thick skull. The beast demon followed Franmalth's pointing fingers, his snarling mouth curling into a ferocious grin.
"The Council! The Council!" Jackal roared, breaking into a hysterical, wheezing laugh. Claws were flexed by his sides, ready for killing. Sparks ignited at his feet and he launched out of the airship with an explosive leap.
Taken by surprise, Silver was thrown hard against the back wall by the shockwave, feeling shrapnel glance off his armour. The ship rocked from the explosion and Silver found himself flat on the floor. He snarled out a curse when he managed to steady himself on one knee. The back half of the bay was now a gaping, flaming hole. Fluids leaked from the ceiling and electrical wires hanging loose were sparking wildly.
Franmalth shrieked from his toppled position against the console; "Gah! My Vengeance! Jackal, you idiot!"
The fiery hole was the least of their problems when the airship was no longer flying stable. The engine whined and the ship tipped down and sideways, making Silver, Shade, and Franmalth roll or slide to the back left corner. Definitely not part of the autopilot's planned flight path.
"We're abandoning ship!" Silver exclaimed, bracing against the nearest surface with icy claws in a futile attempt to stay upright as the ship started to spiral.
"But I spent days repairing her!" Franmalth wailed, clutching to the same wall like a spider.
Snarling in annoyance, Silver grabbed Shade by the ankle and snatched one of Franmalth's spindly arms, eliciting a pained scream from Silver's frost biting into the yellow demon's flesh. Ignoring the ear-piercing scream, Silver quickly warped them out of the ship. The destination he had in mind was the open, sunny sky, high above Headquarters.
They fell.
Below, Silver was just in time to see the chaos unfold. The once invisible protective barriers and wards shielding the entirety of Headquarters were dissipating into magical dust. A massive explosion erupted on the roof of the west side of the building, spewing a giant fireball up into the air. The visible shockwave sent smoke and dust outwards around the blast zone, toppling the eastern tower and throwing burning debris to rain upon the city.
Knowing where to avoid, Silver warped again, transporting them to the courtyard about fifty feet behind the undamaged side of Headquarters. He landed on his feet on a soft carpet of grass between trimmed hedges and trees. Shade and Franmalth, more or less, fell on their faces. They were welcomed by the rush of smoke and dust from the collapsing wing. Smaller explosions rocked the vicinity. Blaring alarms could be heard from inside the remaining half of the building. There were plenty of screams to be heard, but none were as loud and annoying as Franmalth as he cried about his crippled limb.
"Another brilliant plan, Franmalth," Silver muttered in disdain, turning aside to watch the final moments of their airship. Vengeance plummeted out of view below the plateau of the mountain, leaving a spiralling trail of black smoke. It would soon crash and kill a good number of civilians.
Franmalth screamed, first in pain as he ripped off his blackened, frost-bitten arm, then in anger as he shook his torn, saggy noodle-like limb in Silver's face. His single, red eye flashed bright in anger and his mouth was stretched wide, showing every sharp tooth like a hideous lamprey. "It was a perfect plan! Perfect! If Jackal wasn't dumb as a rock, my poor Vengeance would still be in one piece!"
"Shouldn't have brought that brainless idiot to begin with," Silver argued, glowering at the yellow demon evenly. Frost was prickling along his armour and spreading on the grass around his feet. A rage was building. Their situation combined with Franmalth's revolting presence was pushing Silver over the edge. He hasn't forgotten what Franmalth had done back in the days of Tartaros; sending Silver and Keyes to their doomed fates in the heart of Seven. To be dragged into another one of Franmalth's 'perfect' plans that was rapidly unravelling at the seams made Silver more than resentful.
Franmalth suddenly threw his remaining arms protectively before him and hopped back several feet, slamming his back against the trunk of a tree. He quickly scrambled behind the trunk and peered around it, afraid of both Silver's glare and increasingly bitter chill. The tree would do very little to protect him. Though his anger was tamed, Franmalth's ego was still intact as he dared to wave his dead arm in Silver's direction. "Hey! Don't snap at me! If you weren't aware, Captain, Jackal's Bomb Curse was essential in breaking through the layers of protection spells! At least that was a success. Hmph! I suppose not all is lost when we still have you to return us back to Cube."
Acting pompous, Franmalth stepped out of hiding in a confident stride, tossed his dead limb over a hedge, and gave Silver a pointed side-glance.
Shade stepped between them to point at something on the burning side of Headquarters. Silver saw only smoke and fire. Franmalth saw something else that made his eye go wide in glee. The yellow demon rubbed his main hands greedily.
"Souls!" Franmalth cried joyously, "Look at them all! The colours! Such variety! Jackal is making this easy! Kehehehe!" Mouth agape and drooling, he ran towards the buffet of fresh souls invisible to Silver's eyes.
Silver hung back and watched the yellow demon awkwardly run towards the burning, mostly collapsed wing. Along the way, he stretched his arms over and over, appearing to snatch at empty air and gobbling up nothing.
Doors swung open as people were quickly evacuating into the courtyard. Some crossed Franmalth's path.
Franmalth quickly shifted into the form of a large, ten-foot monster that belonged to the lower ranks of the Demon King's dark army; a spear-wielding Moblin. The people, already in a state of panic and confusion, froze at the sight of the oncoming monster. Franmalth made short work of a handful of them with his brute strength and spear and chased a few back inside. He went after them, barging through the double doors leading to the central building.
Only seconds passed when another massive explosion blasted the remaining half of Headquarters. Windows burst and fire surged from the third floor. The rest of the once magnificent building came toppling down.
Silver's first instinct was to hastily make a barricade of ice to shield against the shockwave of heat and fiery debris. His ears rang from the blast and ensuing collapse of Headquarters. Thick, choking clouds of dust and smoke enveloped everything, blocking out the sun and blinding him momentarily. Fortunately, he didn't have to breathe.
Through the haze, he spotted Shade kneeling close by behind the safety of the ice. The barricade held strong against the heat, creating a roiling mist to cool the surrounding area. After waiting a little while, Silver dispelled a slab of ice in front of him to assess what had just happened.
The entirety of the Magic Council Headquarters had been reduced to nothing more than a huge pile of burning rubble. Bodies were strewn about; most likely thrown from the shockwave or crushed by falling debris. A few people were still alive, though badly injured, moving feebly on the ground.
Silver was far enough that he didn't have to hear their dying moans. He turned his attention to the blazing pile and growled in an exasperated sigh, "Goddamn it... Is that idiot, Franmalth, still alive?"
Shade's red eyes pierced through the mist when he glanced at Silver with a nod.
How disappointing.
"Bastard can dig himself out," Silver muttered.
And where was Jackal? Somewhere on the other side of the flames from what Silver could tell, judging by the series of small explosions and random plumes of fire. He must have encountered some resistance and Silver could only assume it was the Rune Knights.
Not wanting to get involved in the mess, Silver stayed put and waited.
There was a grunt from Shade as he sharply turned around, sword and shield both drawn.
Silver followed suit just as someone shouted, "There! Two more demons sighted just as you said, Commander Doranbolt!"
Just great...
Rune Knights. A small army of thirty or forty of them. All wielding magical weapons or spells at the ready. Some wounded. All of them angry. One man was dressed in a more formal attire and stood in front of the group, likely the Commander Doranbolt.
They may have the upper hand in terms of numbers, however Silver could already tell the Rune Knights were no match against either him or Shade alone. Silver was originally a Demon Gate of Tartaros, after all, further empowered by the Demon King's wretched curse.
"I-It's him! The Eclipse Demon!" one of the Knights exclaimed, visibly terrified as he pointed a trembling finger at Silver.
The accusation made the others react accordingly. Some took a wary step back, others were pointing the ends of their staves in Silver's direction, all alight with a spell ready to cast. A few others searched the murky skies, crying about dragons.
Silver snorted in amusement and muttered sarcastically, "Me? The Eclipse Demon? You honour me. But I assure you, I am not him and there are no dragons."
A few of the Knights were startled at the sound of his voice. Their weapons wavered, and their eyes were wide with terror, expecting the worst.
"He's telling the truth," said the Commander, unfazed. He had raised a steady hand to command his Knights to hold their positions. Doranbolt was rather young to be in charge, likely in his mid to late twenties, and yet he possessed the tenacity to lead in spite of the adversaries he currently faced. His dark eyes narrowed at Silver as he carefully wiped the blood trickling down the scar near his left eye. "He looks similar, but his aura is different from the true Eclipse Demon. The same evil is there in both of them, but not as strong. You're a part of his forces, aren't you? Monsters! Why the hell did you do this?!"
A Sensory Mage, hm? Familiar with His Dark Highness too.
Silver equally narrowed his gaze at Doranbolt and soundly smirked. "Did you morons believe the Demon King would not retaliate? This is the consequence of your actions."
"Retaliate for what?!" the Commander demanded, taking a step forward with an angry swipe of his hand. A few of his closest Rune Knights followed his lead, backing him up with their weapons fully charged.
Shade flinched, looking ready to pounce. Silver moved to stand in front of him, giving him a silent command to stay back with a gesture of his hand. Thankfully, the knight understood and was willing to obey, seeing him lower his blade just slightly. "The Black Hole Project. Sound familiar?" Silver questioned, cocking his head.
The Commander was the only one to react at the name. Subtle, with a slight flinch, but still different from the obvious confusion that crossed the other Knights' faces. Murmurs broke out amongst the group and someone blurted out angrily, "What the hell is the bastard talking about?"
"So they've kept it secret from all of you," Silver mused, taking a risky glance back at the burning rubble behind him. "Your Council decided to test a top secret weapon in the forsaken kingdom of Seven, desperate to rid the Demon King for good, I presume. A failed effort, obviously. All that did was gain the interest of His Evil Highness."
"You… And you're here looking for Black Lacrima?" the Commander growled through clenched teeth.
"He has the Black Lacrima, you idiots," Silver snarled, shaking his head not at the Commander, but at the sheer ignorance of the Council. "We, unfortunately, are tasked with gathering whatever information you people have on it. Its creation, its properties, its use; the research behind it all. That is our target."
"You've completely destroyed Headquarters and killed hundreds of people inside! How is this gathering information?!" Doranbolt demanded.
"We have our methods," was all Silver was willing to say.
The Commander clearly knew about the Project, but Franmalth was too occupied being buried alive in burning rubble to obtain the man's soul. In no hurry to help Franmalth in any way, Silver waved the group of Rune Knights away and lowered his guard. "You're wasting your time here. You should be focusing on the demon beast who blew up your Headquarters and killed those hundreds of your people. Stop him before he starts rampaging through Era."
"What?" the Commander exclaimed, a little taken back.
Silver crossed his arms and turned his side to the Rune Knights, indicating he was in no mood to fight. "You heard me. You have more serious matters to attend to. The one responsible for this," Silver nodded at the ruined building, "is on the other side of this fire. Stop him first."
"Commander Doranbolt, don't listen to that fiend!" said the woman next to the Commander. "It's an obvious lie!"
"They're cowards!" another man chimed in. "They're planning to divert our attention to run away!"
"I'm well aware of their tactics," Commander Doranbolt replied, maintaining his firm stance and narrowed gaze on Silver. "Commander Lahar and Firiel will not fail to take down that monster at the front. We are not needed there. No matter what they say, we will not allow them to escape!"
That was the signal for the Knights to quickly spread out in formation, forming a semi-circle. Each Knight pointed their magically imbued weapons or hands at the two armoured in black.
Silver sighed in annoyance, shifting back to his previous stance, fists clenched by his sides. Frost crackled on his armour, matching his bitter mood. Shade moved to stand next to him, poised at the ready with blade and shield, his red eyes reflecting the ferocity of the wolf within as he glared at the small army of Rune Knights.
"Hey, I'm giving you a fair warning," Silver tried once more, waving a nonchalant hand. However, he knew there was no convincing Commander Doranbolt that he had no intention to fight. "It is not us who needs to run, but you lot. Get away if you want to survive another day."
"How dare you mock us," Commander Doranbolt seethed. "You may have crippled our forces with a cowardly attack, but those of us who still stand will be more than enough to eliminate your kind, demon. We will avenge our fallen comrades! Everyone! Fire spells!"
"Oh, come on..." Silver groaned at the multiple flames igniting at the tips of staves and in the palms of hands. Red, orange, blue, yellow, and white; a range of different spells at various levels of heat and power. Meagre flames, nonetheless. None could withstand the deep freeze that Silver would be forced to unleash. "Your last chance to stand down or else you will regret it," Silver warned, raising his hands as if to surrender. The gesture did little to persuade the Rune Knights.
Commander Doranbolt scoffed in disgust. "Take them out!" he commanded with a thrust of his hand.
Flames were either thrown as fireballs or shot as searing beams at Silver. For a moment, he wanted the magic to strike him. Turn his living corpse to ash and finally end his misery. But the rooted instinct for self-preservation to forever serve the Demon King took over. Power surged and Silver felt the chilling curse of the Devil Slayer spread over his right arm, upper chest, and up the right side of his neck and face. Sharp, jagged ice layered over his armour around those affected parts, further reinforcing his image as an ice demon. The surrounding temperature dropped to subzero in an instant, weakening the oncoming flames.
With a thrust of his own icy, clawed hand, Silver manifested a massive wave of windswept ice that easily blocked and snuffed out the Rune Knights' collective magic. The ice rushed forward in a widespread attack, plowing through the Knights' formation and freezing anyone too slow to defend or evade.
The clash of heat and cold created a thick shroud of steam. Silver didn't need to see who was left standing, able to sense their body heat in the frigid air. Many were trapped within his ice. A few stragglers remained, which Shade was quick to warp to their positions to strike them down with wind and blade.
A sudden appearance of a heat source behind Silver. Someone else could instant-teleport just like him. A flash of fire. Silver was in the midst of turning around when the flame pelted his body. It was like being kissed by the sun as the fire harmlessly rolled over him and sizzled out, the ice protecting his body unaffected.
The stunned expression on Commander Doranbolt's face was priceless.
"If that is your strongest fire, best you run far, far away, Commander," said Silver, holding back the urge to retaliate. "Escape while you can because there is no telling what will happen to you if you continue to provoke me."
Commander Doranbolt snarled. Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a sudden tempest of black wind. The man disappeared before he was knocked to the ground, his reflexes quick as lightning. He had teleported somewhere out of Silver's range of detection.
"Is he gone?" Silver asked Shade who was the source of the interruption.
The black knight shook his head and pointed off to the side, beyond the edge of the plateau.
"Leave him," said Silver, taking a quick glance around the area. Shade had taken out the remaining Rune Knights without any trouble, their souls likely harvested for some unknown purpose. "Find Franmalth so we can get out of here."
With a grunt, Shade put away his weapons and left in a gust of black wind.
Silver shut his eyes and tried to calm the devil inside. But once the Devil Slayer's curse took hold, it was difficult to reign it back in. Especially with the seed of evil feeding the devil's need for chaos. It may have been only a minute, when he sensed the appearance of two people in front of him.
"What now?" he groaned, opening his eyes, and frowning in frustration. It was Commander Doranbolt, once again, and he brought a friend. Someone who was clearly not associated with the Magic Council.
Next to the Commander was a taller, bigger, older man with a rugged appearance; long, tangled brown hair, a thin, scraggly beard, muddy boots, and a black, fraying cloak splotched with dirt. He had a large bag slung over his shoulder, indicating he could be a well-worn traveler. He appeared frazzled and annoyed at the Commander for suddenly getting pulled from whatever he was doing before. But then he noticed Silver and got a good look at the burning, leveled Headquarters.
The man let out a whistle at the destruction, his wide eyes sweeping across the fire to the formations of steaming ice with the silhouettes of Knights trapped within. "Damn! You weren't wrong 'bout your Headquarters, mister Commander," he said, sleeking back his hair in disbelief. "Much worse than I expected when I saw all that smoke..."
"You have permission from the Council to use whatever force necessary to stop these demons, Gildarts! Please!" the Commander begged, pointing erratically at Silver.
"Oh! Is that so? No restraints, huh?" replied Gildarts, sneering cockily at Silver, raising his left fist armoured in gold. "Well, ain't this my lucky day! Stop at Era for a nice drink and some pretty sight-seeing and look at what I stumble upon! You evil folks have to ruin the peace, yet again." The last part came out as a deep growl as his eyes narrowed at Silver with utmost hatred.
Silver steeled against the man's glare, sensing he was far from a simple traveler. A mage from a guild, most likely, but which one? The name 'Gildarts' sounded familiar, but where has Silver heard it before?
"You shouldn't have returned, Commander, and dragged this fool along," said Silver, shaking his head out of pity.
"Whoa, hey!" Gildarts shouted, looking quite offended as he pointed a golden finger. "Who are you calling a fool? What you and your pals have done here is a grave mistake on your part, bud. You in cahoots with that big demon guy, right? Calls himself the 'Demon King'? Ain't nice for him and his cronies to attack Fiore twice, you know. How 'bout you send that asshole boss of yours a message that we aren't gonna take this lightly?!"
A spike in magic power. Gildarts' golden hand flashed. Golden lightning arced over Silver's right shoulder followed by a sharp snap and crackling in the air.
Silver flinched, masking his surprise as his entire right arm and right side of his face went numb for a few seconds. At a quick glance, he found some of the ice protecting his shoulder had broken off and partially melted, steam rising in wisps. New ice quickly reformed as if nothing had happened and feeling was returning to his numbed parts, his skin tingling.
That strike of lightning was capable of destroying the Devil Slayer's ice. As strong as Valvarion's magic, it felt like.
"Damn, I missed," Gildarts grumbled, sleeking back his unruly bangs out of disappointment. "Lightning is a lot harder to control than I thought. Laxus makes it look so easy."
The man may play a fool, but he certainly was a formidable mage. No doubt an S-Class or even higher. Why else would Commander Doranbolt bring back only Gildarts and not a larger party of mages?
Alone, Gildarts could be strong enough to kill Silver. An uncontrollable smile curled on Silver's lips at that possibility. A mad thought, to be finally free! He laughed; his voice a hollow, maniacal cackle that was foreign to his own ears. It made both Gildarts and Doranbolt uneasy.
"You're strong. I respect that," said Silver in a snarl, playing his part, "but can you stop me? I'm not the strongest among the Demon King's ranks. If you can't defeat me here, then you stand no chance against him or the other wretches under his control."
The confidence in Gildarts' grin was an assuring sign that he won't disappoint. "Well, if you put it like that, then I better not hold back, yeah? Best you save who you can and get outta here, kid, it's gonna get messy," he told Doranbolt.
"I am a Commander, Gildarts! Not a child! But, I understand," said Doranbolt, taking a few steps back. "There are two other demons searching under the building. Stop them as well, then I'm sure all infractions charged against you would be absolved by the Council!" He vanished, only to reappear near one of the injured evacuees to help them escape.
Gildarts chuckled as he shifted into his battle stance, his focus back on Silver. "Then I definitely can't lose, ya hear that, demon?"
Silver sneered and nodded at the surrounding ice. "You should be mindful of where your lightning strikes, mage. The people trapped in my ice may still be alive."
The man's eyebrow twitched upwards. "Is that so? You planning on using them as your shield?"
"No, I will not resort to such cheap tricks if I can help it."
"How considerate. Well, good thing I got more spells up my sleeve than just lightning! I'm freezing so how 'bout we warm things up a notch!" Gildarts plunged the red hot claws of his golden hand into the ground.
The mountain shook from an earthquake, making Silver fall to one knee. The ground split open from Gildarts' hand and past Silver, right between the Slayer's legs. The fissure widened and Silver lost his footing. He fell, seeing a red glow at the very bottom that was quickly growing brighter and hotter. Lava was rising to meet him, bubbling and sputtering and so very hot.
Silver concentrated an enormous amount of magic and used it to fill up the bottom of the fissure, sealing the lava below. Scalding steam violently hissed when ice touched molten rock. Lava was undeniably hotter than flame, melting his ice with ease. But could it stay hot forever?
Every inch of ice that melted was instantly replaced with Silver maintaining a constant flow of magic to conjure more and more ice. He could feel the lava rapidly cooling, solidifying to rock in seconds. The hot steam condensed and turned to thick frost along the fissure walls and collected on Silver's body, adding an extra layer to his icy armour with sharper spines and wicked blades.
The mere effort triggered the Devil Slayer's curse to spread further, overtaking his back and left arm and torso, pushing his sanity to his limits. His power grew and the temperature further dropped.
From the depths of the ice-filled fissure, Silver used Gildarts' creation to his advantage. He wasn't sure if Gildarts could sense him, but he could definitely sense the mage's heat signature. Energy gathered in the icy claws of his right gauntlet. With a wave of his arm, ridges of ice tore through the mountain rock diagonally upwards towards the man, further widening the fissure.
His ice burst from the ground like giant jagged blades, but, despite the size of the attack, missed their mark when Silver detected Gildarts leaping out of the way. Silver quickly warped to the man's location before he had a chance to find his bearings.
Out of the fissure and back in the courtyard shrouded in cold mist. Silver appeared on Gildarts' right, catching the man by surprise. He cast another wave of ice to trap the man. However, his ice suddenly broke apart; the pieces separating into neat, uniform cubes.
Silver saw a bare hand emerge from the shattered ice towards his face. Fingers grasped the top of his helm before he warped to safety a fair distance away from the man.
His head felt lighter and his vision less obstructed. His helm was gone.
Gildarts laughed when he faced Silver. Standing in a huge pile of large ice cubes, he was clutching something in his bare hand, which he soon dropped to the ground. Black cubes of various sizes clattered like metal; the remains of Silver's helm. "If I can't melt you, then I can Crush you!" said the man, bearing a cocky grin. "Say! You remind me of someone – the human half of your face, anyway. We've met before?"
"Doubt you've ever met a man long dead," Silver answered, his mouth twitching into a smirk.
Confusion flickered over Gildarts' face. The man was formidable indeed. Strong enough to cause the Devil Slayer's curse to continue to spread and Silver was unable to stop it. Down his legs and creeping up the rest of his face. It was beyond his control now. "Do me a favour, mage," he struggled to say, fighting a losing battle against the rising darkness in his heart and mind. "Hurry… and kill me..."
His power further grew and so did his rage. His mind was lost. The thought of death and freedom left him. He served no king; he was no slave. Friend or foe had no meaning when the devil was in charge. All he wanted was to kill and destroy and the man who opposed him would be the first.
Colder, the temperature fell, where very few could survive for longer than a minute, unprepared. A chilling mist rolled over the entire plateau, spreading frost over every surface; his aura stealing all sources of heat. All moisture in the vicinity froze; plants turned stiff and delicate like glass, and every bit of steam crystallized into icy pellets of rain. The flames from the rubble were quelled by the frost, leaving only the inner, deeper parts to weakly smoulder. He sensed the bodies of a few Knights on the opposite side of the ruins. Only a handful left against the larger furnace of heat that could only be the beast demon. The Slayer's cold affected the Etherious; the beast's body temperature decreasing by the second, rendering his movements sluggish.
Slay the demon later; the lone human shivering and coughing across from the Slayer had his attention. The frigid air made breathing difficult for the warm-blooded, chilling throat and lungs with every breath. The man was desperate to stay warm; the claws of his golden gauntlet were burning with pitiful flames, each as weak as a candle.
Merciless, the Slayer swiped an arm before him, creating a great wave of ice; a hundred feet tall and jagged, curving around from the side. Whether or not the attack was successful in hitting the man, the Slayer didn't wait to find out as he followed with a barrage of giant, pointed chunks of ice. The glacial spears smashed into the frozen wave, tore through trees, and sheared deep into the ground.
There was a flash of golden lightning. An intense heat pierced and sundered the Slayer's ice. A sign the man had survived the onslaught.
The Slayer drew a deep breath, concentrating magic in his lungs, and unleashed his Ice Devil's Rage. A hurricane of ice and freezing winds blasted across the plateau, destroying everything that stood in its path. It tore a deep trench in solid mountain rock and plowed through the ruins and beyond, leaving a trail of destruction and formations of wind-swept ice.
When the winds died down, the Slayer sensed and listened. It was quiet and his immediate surroundings were dead cold. He thought the man was gone when he heard a dull rumbling under the ground. Prickly, delicate frost coating the grass and ground crumbled in a telltale path leading from the man's last location towards the Slayer.
The rumbling got louder and the earth beneath the Slayer's feet began to tremble. He moved at the last second when a bare fist burst from the ground that was transformed into cubes of rock and ice. The fist narrowly missed the Slayer's face.
A flying cube of rock was suddenly shot at the Slayer. It banged off the Slayer's chest, hard enough to crack his ice and make him stumble back a step. Another fist was thrown at his face, coming from the golden hand wreathed in flame.
The Slayer caught the flaming fist at the cost of his arm going numb and the protective layers of ice on his gauntlet shattering from the impact. But he withstood the force and pushed back, instantly snuffing out the flames and freezing the man's fist upon contact. The man growled out a curse and threw his other fist only for the Slayer to defend with his other arm that was hastily reinforced with thicker, sharper blades of ice. The Slayer swerved his head at the same the man's fist broke through the frozen blades, missing his chin by a hair. The ensuing rush of wind from the missed swing was strong enough to snap off a few icy horns off the side of the Slayer's head.
The Slayer lashed out with his free arm, clamping his icy claws around the man's unarmoured wrist in an iron hold. Plain, white bandages covering the man's arm did little to protect against the prickling ice that quickly formed over his limb.
The man yanked back, pulling the Slayer with him. "Damn you!" the man snarled, twisting from one side to the next in a futile attempt to break free. "Fucking leg, move!" As he turned his body once more to his right, his left leg – armoured in the same gold as his left arm – suddenly jerked forward and kicked the Slayer in the side. A flash of yellow and white, followed by a deafening crack of electricity.
A searing jolt of lightning shot the Slayer sideways. His body flew far before crashing and skidding on ice and rock. He came to a stop, lying face down. His insides burned hot like fire. The right side of his body was completely numb. The rest twitchy and unresponsive. He seethed through clenched teeth and willed his body to move as it should. Anger fueled his efforts and relinquished the searing sensation with a soothing chill. Feeling gradually returned and he could stand.
The man snorted in disbelief from afar. He was using the molten hot claws of his golden hand to quickly thaw his right arm that was covered in deep cuts and the rash of frostbite. "You're a tough one, I'll admit," he hissed, wincing from pain. "If it'll cost me my other arm to beat ya, then so be it."
The Slayer bared his fangs in an infuriated snarl. He will not be defeated by a human!
He strained to take a quick, deep breath, stuttering through the effort. His lungs were likely damaged. Before he could fully concentrate his magic, the man flicked the red hot fingers of his golden gauntlet, flinging large globs of fast-flying lava.
The Slayer warped to appear high above the man's head, breath still held. The moment he started to fall, he released his rage upon the man with sheer vengeance. His icy hurricane blasted the ground in a widespread radius, piercing into the mountain and splitting the top of the plateau in all directions. Freezing winds howled through the multiple fissures, shearing and lifting away solid rock. In the end, the centre of the courtyard was transformed into a huge, deep crater covered in tall, jagged ridges of ice layered in a spiralling pattern. Deep crevasses spread from the heart of it to all ends of the plateau, sharp protrusions of ice bursting from their depths.
He warped back to the ground. His right leg suddenly gave out and he was down on one knee.
The man was an annoying and resilient bastard, somehow still alive despite the magnitude of destruction.
The Slayer sensed the man approaching fast and spotted him leaping over all the icy obstacles in a single bound. Lightning crackled from his golden leg and arm as he flew straight for his target.
The Slayer erected a spiked barrier of ice to intercept, but it was smashed into perfect cubes by the man's bare and bloody fist. When the man slammed on the ground, ice and rock shattered beneath him, and the lightning in his leg crackled and arced in all directions. A bolt caught the Slayer's right arm, numbing and burning flesh.
The man lunged, closing the distance in less than a second. His furious face, cut up and pierced by shards of ice, was the last thing the Slayer saw before he was struck in the chest by an electrified fist.
Fire coursed through the Slayer's body and everything went white.
For a while, he was lost in a blank void with no thought or feeling.
A whisper tickled his ear followed by a light caress of his face. A shadow drifted into view. The shape of a woman; her body so gentle and familiar. It brought a comforting sense of warmth from deep within his cold, dead heart. When he tried to reach for her hand, she was swallowed by darkness that filled the emptiness. Giant red eyes stared from the abyss, replacing the warmth with fear.
An annoying squeaky voice was shouting from somewhere, pulling him away from the black void.
"… slap him harder, you stupid brat! Harder!"
Something cold and metal was tapping against his cheek. Silver opened his eyes, his vision blurred and head spinning. Firm, metal hands held the sides of his face and gently lifted his head. It took some time before he could focus on the pair of patient red eyes staring at him, belonging to a pale and youthful face framed by snow-white hair stained with dark red blood.
Shade gave Silver a look over before giving a quiet grunt and curt nod. He pulled away, leaving Silver to support the weight of his own head, which felt as heavy as a stone.
Slowly, Silver looked around, not quite sure what happened to him. His thoughts were muddled and his body ranged from heavy, numb, and hot throughout. It took another while to gather his bearings. He was slumped in a somewhat sitting position, his back propped against something solid, likely a tree since he noticed the forest around them. Weren't they supposed to be at the Magic Council Headquarters?
"About time, Captain, sir!" It was the same annoying squeaky voice he heard earlier. It was yelling from the ground close by.
Silver dropped his head to find a yellow, one-eyed mushroom with big red lips and a bumpy cap growing from the dirt. "Fr..." he tried to speak, only to sputter out a coppery-tasting liquid from his mouth. He choked when he tried to draw in air to talk. When he glanced at his chest, he understood why. There was a big hole punched through his armour, the surrounding metal melted to his charred, bloody flesh. Blood as dark and thick as tar oozed from the gaping wound. His right arm and right hip looked just as bad.
Ah, yes... he was fighting against the cocky man with the golden hand and leg. It was evident Silver lost, having been struck dead-on with fist and lightning. All his internal organs were fried.
Fuck me… Why can't I die?
Still clinging to the living realm meant his body would eventually regenerate the damage he had sustained. A 'gift' from Keyes' countless experiments in creating the strongest undead army.
"Hey, you there?!" the mushroom demanded. "Is your brain also melted?"
Silver mustered what little strength he had to scoff. The action forced him to cough out the blood that had collected in his throat. He gasped, drawing a wet and laboured breath and muttered, "Fran… malth? 'ell happened to you?"
The mushroom bounced up and down in anger, his red lips peeling back to reveal his sharp, little teeth. "It's your damn fault! You did this to me! You went overboard and killed Jackal and nearly me during your great battle with a pathetic human! Almost lost all my precious souls, you know!"
"He was far… from pathetic… Formidable… that mage," Silver remarked. "How'd we... get away?"
"The brat," Franmalth grumbled, his one eye glancing past Silver. "Barely got out in time before that freak of a mage could fry us too!"
Silver slowly turned his head to find Shade, kneeling next to him, watching him intently. The kid was missing his helm and parts of his armour over his left shoulder and chest, his flesh burned and bleeding. His sword and shield were also nowhere to be seen, likely reduced to cubes by Gildarts strange yet powerful magic.
If a single man like Gildarts could defeat them, then there could be a fighting chance for Fiore. A margin of hope.
Silver leaned his head back against the trunk, feeling a breeze blow through the trees.
"No time to relax, Captain, sir," Franmalth cut in the moment of calm. "We need to get back to Cube before they find us!"
Silver grunted in annoyance. Whether or not Franmalth managed to collect the souls he desired, Silver didn't bother to ask. He tried to move his arm to grab Franmalth for teleportation, but none of his limbs were responding.
Shade was able to read his thoughts and plucked the mushroom off the ground, which proceeded with cries of; "Hey! Ow! Be gentle! Stupid brat! Augh!" The boy squeezed the demon a little harder, metal fingers covering his mouth to silence him.
With a silent nod and knowing look, the boy grasped Silver's left hand.
Tired eyes drank in the beautiful forest one last time before Silver warped them back to the cold, dark fortress floating under the gloomy skies of Seven.