A flashback from centuries ago: Long before Ungar had joined the
side of light he faced down Percival the last of the Knights of the Round
Table who faced down the great Demon King Ungar and mad Sorcerer
around the year A.D. 950 who sought nothing less than the destruction of the
world. Percival said: "in the name of all the Old Gods and my Lord Jesus
Christ, I won't let you destroy this world!!" Ungar, a large who was over 7
feet tall, all dark-grey armor, a black cape, red eyes peering through the visor
in his helmet and two metal horns sticking out of his helmet laughed in a
metallic cold way, "Hehehehehehehe.... Foolish mortal. You won't save
anything. For this battle, you won't even survive!"
The wind howled across the battlefield like the wail of a dying god.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the sky, thick with swirling storm
clouds, cast an eerie twilight over the land. The ruins of an ancient fortress
loomed behind them, its broken spires jutting toward the heavens like fingers
grasping for salvation. Percival tightened his grip on his sword, his heart
hammering, but his faith unwavering. With a cry that carried the weight of
every knight who had fallen before him, Percival charged. Their forces met in
a furious explosion of light and darkness. The clash sent shockwaves through
the earth, splitting the ground beneath their feet. Ungar's strength was
inhuman; each of his blows was like the strike of a warhammer, sending
Percival skidding backward with every parry. But Percival was swift,
dodging and countering with precision honed by a lifetime of battle. His
blade, infused with the blessings of the divine, left shimmering trails in the
air as it struck against the unholy metal of Ungar's greatsword.
Ungar conjured up a sword and swung it in a brutal arc, his blade
cleaving through stone like butter. Percival barely ducked in time, feeling the
wind of the strike rip past his face. He rolled to the side and slashed at
Ungar's exposed flank. Sparks flew as the blessed steel met cursed armor,
and for the first time, Ungar grunted in pain. But he was far from finished.
With a snarl, Ungar raised his gauntleted hand. A pulse of malevolent energy
erupted from his palm, sending a wave of dark magic surging toward
Percival. The knight raised his shield, and the sacred inscriptions upon it
glowed with divine light, barely holding back the corrupting force. Still, the
impact sent him crashing into a shattered pillar, the force knocking the breath
from his lungs. Percival coughed, blood staining his lips. He could feel his
body beginning to fail him, but he forced himself to rise. He had to. The
world depended on it. Ungar approached slowly, savoring the moment. "You
are persistent, knight. I will give you that. But even the most faithful break
under the weight of despair."
He raised his sword, preparing for the final strike. Then, Percival did
something that made even the Demon King hesitate. He began to pray. A low
chant, steady and unyielding, rose from Percival's lips. The words of the old
faith and the new mingled together, filling the battlefield with a golden
radiance. His sword flared with holy fire, and for the first time, Ungar took a
step back.
Then, with a roar that shook the heavens, Percival surged forward. Their
blades met once more, and this time, the battlefield itself trembled at their
fury. Holy fire clashed against abyssal darkness. Every strike shook the earth,
sending fissures through the land, toppling ancient ruins. The air itself burned
with divine and profane energy, warping reality around them. Neither could
gain the upper hand, for every wound Percival inflicted, Ungar returned in
kind. Every spell of destruction Ungar cast, Percival countered with a prayer
of protection.
They fought for what felt like an eternity, neither yielding, neither falling.
The storm above churned in response, as if the heavens themselves watched
in awe.
Finally, both warriors stood at a stalemate, breathing heavily. Their armor
was shattered, their bodies battered, but neither had fallen.
Ungar's laughter, though strained, echoed once more. "Heh... I must
admit, Percival... you are more than I anticipated."
Percival steadied himself, his sword still raised. "And you... are a darkness I
will never allow to consume this world." Percival raised the sword he
inherited from Arthur, King of the Britains, Excalibur. A shining light began
to shoot out rays which conjured a vortex which trapped Ungar. "WHAT'S
HAPPENING! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!! I AM THE GREAT
DEMON-KING!!!!!" Percival shouted: "Your reign of terror ends here!!" In
an instant Ungar was sealed into the blade. The rest was history. Percival and
the wizard Merlin threw the sword into the water where it was caught and
sealed away by the Lady of the Lake.
A refresher (what happened in the last episode): Hermes had just
been pushed into the interdimensional ocean by Mira. She seemed to be
drifting between life and death, she saw a strange rabbit-like creature. "Hello
Prophet, my name is Ozzy. I'm the opener of the seal of your guardian (or
more accurately, the creature that lies in your soul, how you will fully realize
your Avatar state. Hermes asked the creature a number of questions. Hermes
felt weightless as she drifted through the interdimensional ocean, caught
between consciousness and oblivion. The currents around her shimmered
with shifting colors—blues that bled into gold, reds that flickers like candle
flames. She couldn't tell if she was sinking or floating, but she was certain of
one thing: the creature before her was not of this world. Ozzy, the rabbit-like
being, twitched its long ears and regarded her with glowing silver eyes. "I can
see the questions burning inside you, Prophet," it said, its voice an eerie mix
of soft chimes and whispers. "Ask, and I will answer." Hermes hesitated, then
spoke, her voice echoing unnaturally in the vast space. "What do you mean
by 'guardian'? I don't have anything like that inside me."
Ozzy chuckled, a sound like wind through hollow bones. "Oh, but you
do. It has always been there, slumbering, waiting. You are its vessel, just as it
is your shield, your weapon, your awakening. And now, because of Mira, you
are closer than ever to fully realizing it." Hermes frowned. Mira. The betrayal
still stung, but there was no time for anger. "So what happens now? What
does it mean to fully awaken?" Ozzy hopped closer, tilting its head. "It means
power, Prophet. Power unlike anything you have ever known. But it also
means choice. Will you embrace it? Will you let it consume you? Or will you
learn to wield it before it wields you?"
The currents around Hermes swirled faster, and suddenly, she could
feel something deep within her stirring—something ancient, something vast.
A presence she had never noticed before, but that had always been there. It
pulsed in time with her heartbeat, whispering in a language she almost
understood. Ozzy's eyes gleamed. "Your guardian wakes. Now, Prophet, let
us see what you are truly capable of." Hermes appeared in a dark ocean, there
was a giant octopus. It was clearly the size of a large continent with over
1,000 eyes, it said "I am the monster that dwells in your soul, will you not
form a contract with me that will stabilize your true power." Hermes awoke
to the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant sound of flowing water. The air
was thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers, a strange
contrast to the cool stone beneath her. The golden light of the sun filtered
down in delicate beams, illuminating the vibrant green canopy above, yet
despite the open sky, the towering cave walls on either side enclosed the
space like a sacred, hidden sanctuary.
Vines draped down from the rocky edges, swaying slightly in an unseen
breeze, their emerald leaves catching the sunlight like tiny mirrors.
Bioluminescent fungi clung to the cavern walls, casting a soft blue glow that
pulsed rhythmically, as if breathing with the life of the cave. Delicate white
flowers sprouted between the cracks in the stone, their petals trembling with
the whisper of an unseen wind. The air itself seemed alive, humming with an
energy both serene and ancient. The sound of distant water echoed softly,
mingling with the chirping of unseen birds that seemed too ethereal to be
entirely real. Every breath Hermes took filled her lungs with a refreshing,
almost otherworldly vitality, easing the pain of her wounds. And then, amidst
the beauty of this strange, dreamlike place, a shadow stood—dark, elegant,
and unmistakably familiar. The demon goddess Uvia, clad in flowing black,
her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders like strands of midnight. At
her feet, a small imp, its tiny clawed hands glowing faintly with healing
magic, worked diligently to mend the knife wounds that had nearly claimed
Hermes' life.
Uvia's crimson eyes met Hermes' with a knowing gaze, and a faint
smirk played upon her lips. "Welcome back, Prophet," she murmured, her
voice as smooth as silk, yet carrying the weight of something far more
dangerous. "You have a long journey ahead of you." Hermes asked: "Where
am I?" Uvia laughed: "Well put simply you're in the demon realm, it's a
world of countless worlds inside of it, all ruled over by the sovereign your
friend and our majesty (Demi) whether they're aware of it or not." The
narrator: "The Demon Realm is a gigantic realm made of Qadar the magical
element that is like a combination of fire and water, it's about
100,000,000,000 times larger than the known-universe (of the reader), and
every drop of water is a separate microverse, really it's about the size of the
universe the main-story takes place in (i.e. one of the droplet microverses is
that big)." Uvia went on to explain that Mira was likely a member of the
Council of Archon where there was a semi-rebellious faction within the
court of King Apollo which lay on the exact opposite end of the Universe
though not at the level of Mu: the Great Continent. Uvia wasn't sure why
the Council of Archon is after Demi but she had a surprise. It was Oghuz
and Dreadmarch, two former foes now allies. "They will be your agents,
we're placing you in a water-droplet that's full of blind-followers of Demi, so
if anyone finds out who you are, well a friend of Demi's is a friend of theirs."
Uvia sighed: "You need to join us, the Demon Faction at least for now."
Uvia laughed: "Well we can't kill Ungar because he's immortal but
know this. If you refuse to join us. We will kill all of your friends, "your
friends from school, Talus, Zaiyal, Qayyim, etc.," and we're not bluffing,
we currently have access to incredibly strong fighters." Hermes' heart
pounded. She could still see them—Talus, Zaiyal, Qayyim—their laughter,
their warmth, their unwavering belief in her. The very thought of them being
hunted, butchered in her name, made her stomach churn with a rage she could
barely contain. "You're bluffing," she said through gritted teeth, her fists
clenching. "Demi—if they truly are the ruler of this realm—would never
allow it." Uvia smirked, stepping closer, her crimson eyes gleaming like
polished rubies. "Wouldn't they?" she whispered, amusement lacing her
voice. "Demi's reach is great, but even a sovereign cannot watch every corner
of existence at once. The Council of Archon has already made their move.
We must act now, or you'll lose everything before you even understand
what's at stake." Hermes swallowed hard. Every instinct told her not to trust
Uvia, not to fall into the grasp of the Demon Faction. But what choice did she
have? For now, she had to play their game. She let out a slow breath. "Fine,"
she said. "I'll join you. But only to protect my friends." Uvia's smirk
widened. "Good," she purred. "Then let us begin."
The cavern walls trembled, the air thickening as a portal of shimmering
black flame opened before them. Oghuz and Dreadmarch stepped forward
without hesitation, their forms vanishing into the abyss. Uvia extended a hand
toward Hermes, the sharp elegance of her fingers glowing with an eerie light.
"Come now, Prophet," she said. "Let's see if you truly have what it takes to
survive in the Demon Realm." Hermes hesitated for only a moment before
stepping into the darkness. Hermes was sent off to her apartment, was told to
change her appearance, she cut her hair, dyed it black and fell backwards on
her bed, her innocent glow was dead, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
The future was unclear, and one question remained: ....."Why Mira? Why did
you do that to me? Mira?"
"Whispers of the Abyss"
Hermes awoke not to the softness of her bed but to the hollow
resonance of distant tides. Her black-dyed hair clung to her neck, damp with
sweat, as the remnants of a dream—the octopus's thousand eyes, staring,
judging—faded like smoke. The apartment Uvia had provided was sparse, its
walls shimmering faintly with Qadar, the living element of the Demon
Realm. It pulsed in time with her heartbeat, a reminder that every breath here
was borrowed, every moment surveilled.
A knock. Sharp, impatient. Oghuz stood at the threshold, his hulking
frame barely contained by the doorway. Behind him, Dreadmarch's shadow
writhed, tendrils of darkness licking at the floor. "Time to earn your place,
Prophet," Oghuz grunted, tossing her a cloak the color of drowned violets.
"We've got a world to maintain."
The Mission: A Drop in the Ocean
The microverse Uvia sent them to was a droplet numbered Echo-7, a
realm where Demi's followers worshipped not a sovereign but a symbol—a
spiral etched into every surface, every skin. The air tasted of salt and incense,
and the streets teemed with pilgrims robed in silver, their eyes sewn shut with
thread of gold. "They see through faith, not sight," Dreadmarch hissed, his
voice a blade on stone. "One misstep, and their devotion will gut you."
Their objective: infiltrate the Temple of Spires, where a shard of the "First
Qadar"—a relic said to predate Demi's reign—was kept. Uvia's orders were
clear: Steal it before the Council does. Hermes' role? To play the acolyte, her
newfound guise as a silent pilgrim masking the storm beneath.
The Guardian's Price
In the temple's underbelly, amidst murals of forgotten gods, the relic
pulsed—a jagged crystal humming with primordial rage. As Hermes reached
for it, the air thickened. Her veins burned. The octopus's voice slithered into
her mind: "You owe me a contract, Prophet. Take the shard, and I will
make you worthy of it." Hermes had to do this before the next day when she
was required to attend classes at the Echo-7 College.
"No," she whispered. But the relic glowed brighter, searing her palm.
Power surged—a tidal wave—and the walls screamed. Pilgrims turned, their
stitched eyes weeping blood as they chanted in a tongue that cracked the
earth. Oghuz roared, grappling with a creature of living stone, while
Dreadmarch's shadows faltered under the weight of their faith.
Hermes' choice: Submit to the guardian, or let them all die.
A Crack in the Mask
The octopus's tendrils unfurled within her. Reality bent. With a scream,
Hermes pulled, and the temple collapsed into a singularity of light and sound.
When the dust settled, the relic was in her hand, the pilgrims knelt—not in
worship, but in terror. Oghuz eyed her with wary respect. Dreadmarch's form
flickered, a rare unease in his sneer. "Guess the stories about you aren't all
lies."
But victory was ash. The guardian's voice lingered: "You are mine now.
Every step, every breath—ours."
Mira's Shadow
That night, in the hollow quiet of her room, a mirror shimmered. Not glass,
but memory. Mira stood in the reflection, her hands stained with Qadar's
iridescent ichor. "You shouldn't have trusted them, Hermes," she murmured,
her voice frayed, desperate. "The Council wanted you dead. I had to... I had
to make you a weapon."
Then, a blade—real, not memory—pierced the mirror. Talus's face flashed in
the shards, his voice a distant echo: "Hermes, they're coming for us—"
The vision shattered. Uvia stood in the doorway, her smirk a dagger.
"Sleepwalking, Prophet? Or courting betrayal?" She tossed a scroll—a report
from the mortal realm. Talus's name bled red ink. "The Council's hunters are
swift. But don't fret. We'll keep your friends alive... as long as you obey."
In the depths of Echo-7's ocean, where even Qadar feared to flow, the
First Shard pulsed in Hermes' grip. The octopus laughed, low and eternal.
Somewhere, in a realm of fire and fractured stars, Mira whispered apologies
to a god who couldn't hear her. The Price of Power
Hermes did not sleep. Not truly. The moment her eyes fluttered shut,
she was drowning—not in water, but in something far denser, a black tide
thick with whispers. The octopus's thousand eyes staired from the abyss, its
voice wrapping around her like chains of ink. Obedience, Prophet. Or ruin.
She awoke to the scent of burning parchment. The scroll Uvia had tossed her
lay half-charred on the floor, its edges curling in protest. Talus's name still
bled red ink, but now it was smudged, warped. A warning. A knock—softer
than Oghuz's, but no less urgent. Hermes hesitated, the shard in her grip
pulsing with an unearthly heat. Then she moved, sliding the door open just
enough to see the silhouette beyond. Dreadmarch. The shadow-weaver's
form was indistinct, shifting, but his eyes were sharp as diamond shards.
"You've made a mistake," he murmured. "And Uvia will carve it out of you,
piece by piece." Hermes exhaled, pushing the door fully open. "Then tell me
what I should've done."
Dreadmarch stepped inside, closing the door with a flick of his fingers.
"Not this." She gestured at the shard, at the phantom weight it left in the air.
"Do you even know what you're holding?" Hermes tightened her grip. "The
First Shard. A relic of pre-Demi Qadar (power)." A chuckle, dark and
humorless. "You think too small. That thing isn't just a relic. It's a tether. A
sliver of something that never should've been severed." The words crawled
down Hermes' spine. "Then why does Uvia want it?" Dreadmarch tilted his
head, expression unreadable. "Because she doesn't plan to return it." The
weight in the room thickened, pressing against Hermes' ribs. The
implications dug deep—Uvia, with all her secrets, all her power, wasn't just
playing keep-away with the Council. She was hoarding something dangerous.
Something alive. A slow inhale. "You have a plan." Dreadmarch's eyes
turned into something like a smirk. "We break the shard."
The Fractured Pact
The ocean loomed before them—endless, unknowable. The abyssal
trench beneath Echo-7's temple had no name, no measured depth. It was a
place where even Qadar hesitated to flow. Oghuz stood at the edge of the
ritual circle, arms crossed. "This is insanity." Dreadmarch rolled his eyes.
"That's why it'll work." Hermes knelt at the center, the shard cradled in her
palm. The octopus stirred in her mind, its voice curling around her thoughts
like deep-sea currents. You wound yourself, Prophet. Do you even know what
you serve?
She ignored it. Focused. Dreadmarch moved beside her, shadows
stretching, forming sigils in the water-laced air. Oghuz remained a stone
sentinel, his skepticism a weight in the atmosphere. Hermes raised the shard.
"How do we break it?" Dreadmarch's smile was razor-thin under her hood.
"With a name." A name. Names had power. More than steel, more than faith.
She hesitated. "Whose?" Dreadmarch's expression turned solemn. "Yours."
Hermes' breath caught. The ocean roared. The octopus's laughter
reverberated through her bones. Speak it, it cooed. And see what is unmade.
She clenched her jaw. The shard pulsed, bright as a dying star. Her
name—her true name—sat heavy on her tongue. One whisper, and
everything could change. One whisper, and she might not survive the
breaking. But Talus' name still bled on the parchment. And Mira's voice still
echoed in her shattered reflection. She exhaled. And spoke. "I'm ready."
From the abyss appeared a giant eel at least the size of a Sperm Whale. It
began to roar in frustration.
Oghuz shouted: "You must attack it." Hermes picked up the sword that
Zaiyal had given her after Daniel's death "(the Spirit Blade), a blade which
was forged in the Demon World and was made up of pure Qadar (divine fire
and water). With a single thrust she landed straight in the monster's mouth.
And then in an instant she woke up in her apartment, there was a letter placed
on her bed, "Great going you passed, have fun at class today, love Uvia."
Hermes rubbed her head and she realized she had overslept, it was time to go
to class.
Meanwhile, at the Imperial Palace and Holy Temple of the one true
God according to the Qandarharians (al-Qadari), the one spoken of by all
2,500 Prophets of the Qandaharians the final being Al-Qadiri [who was of a
different line of prophets than Hermes known as the Qadiri line] who
died over 2,100 years ago without an heir at all to lead the religion. At the his
Holy Temple in Qandarharia whether the regional king Abdullahus Qasar
Ifamime II was awarding several individuals alongside the entire Hero
Association, into the Order of the Knights of the Ansar of Hubal as well as
the newest-members of the Space Force by the government of the Qatari
Empire. A noble man declared: "in the name of al-mighty God, who has
bestowed his mercy upon the kingdom of Qandarhia and its noble emirate for
the last 2,300 years, bestows his title of Order of the Knights of the Ansar of
Hubal (Abdallah-Ansari), to the following members. Zaiyal Solarus, Duke
of the Zaiyaltana line of Planet Solarius, he will be awarded the medal of
the Order of the Knights of the Ansar (Helpers) of the Kings of al-Hubal and
the Seal of the Space Force, in the name of the protector, shadow and Emir of
God on earth, his excellency Abdullhas Qasar IX (may God bestow him
with long life, and upon his death sanctify his soul)." Zaiyal was given his
medal. The vizier declared and the next being awarded is: "Al-Ungar
[Ungar], he will be awarded the medal of the Order of the Knights of the
Ansar (Helpers) of the Kings of al-Huubal and the seal of the Space Force, in
the name of the protector, the shadow and Emir of God on earth, his
excellency Abdullhas Qasar IX (may God bestow him with long life, and
upon his death sanctify his soul)." The award was placed upon Ungar's
chest. "The next to be awarded these titles in Maitreya Buddha Narcis,
who has been bestowed the title of member of the Space Force and a
member and the medal of honor and membership into the Order of the
Knights of the Ansar of Hubal (Abdallah-Ansari), by the mercy of his
excellency Abdullah Qasar IX (may God bestow him with long life, and
upon his death sanctify his soul)." Next the vizier announced: "in the name
of the Al-Mighty one true God, without form, without body, who's eye
watches of all creation, Al-Qadar, I bestow this medal upon Talus (former
member of the Demon-Clan 'Mozaku'), who by the grace of God will be
bestow two honors, a member of the Space Force by the Qatari Empire, and
by the grace of God is now a Holy KNight in the Order of the Knights of the
Ansar (Helpers) of the Knights of al-Huubal and the seal of the almighty God
Al-Qadir upon his servant, Emir Abdullah Qasar IX (may God bestow him
with long life, and upon death sanctify his soul).
Uvia had told Hermes the day before: "There is something called the
Tower of Babel, it has an unknown number of floors you will be starting
on a floor close to the middle of the tower which means to escape the
Demon Realm you will need to complete 50% of the tower, its room of
the tower is the size of the Universe that Helios is inside of, there are an
estimated 500,000,000,000 billion floors, if you show true power and
prestige it is likely the Ambassadors will take favor upon you and allow
you to climb the tower at a faster rate. Until you reach King Aquarius,
the king of the Tower, on the 820,000th floor who though doesn't rule
from the top is the ruler of the tower, if you defeat him which no one has,
you will not only escape the tower and the Demon Realm, but the
custodianship of the tower will fall to you." After Hermes interjected Uvia
replied: "You will be meeting an ambassador named "Arinsu," he is a
MAGE which is similar to a Ranker in the realm of Apollo on the other
side of the celestial body. He will be your tutor to climb the tower."
Hermes sprinted through the rain-slicked streets of Echo-07, her breath
coming in sharp bursts. The city's neon skyline flickered above her, casting
ghostly reflections on the puddled ground. She had overslept, and now she
was late—late for the examination that would determine her eligibility to
ascend the Tower of Babel. The entrance to the College's testing grounds
loomed ahead, an obsidian archway carved with sigils that pulsed faintly with
Qadar energy. As she passed beneath them, the air thickened, pressing against
her skin like unseen hands. A dozen other candidates stood in the courtyard,
some murmuring prayers, others adjusting their weapons or armor. Hermes
barely had time to compose herself before an instructor—a tall, severe man
with silver-threaded braids, wearing a coolie hat and with two
Katanas.—stepped forward, a clipboard in one hand, a staff in the other. A
young goat-girl by the name of Nelly, about 23 years or so, was trying to
climb the tower as well, she did not know this and neither did Hermes, but in
a short time they would join forces and later become extremely close friends,
almost like sisters.
"My name is Arinsu, I am one of the MAGES of the tower, there are 13
of us in total, so consider all of yourselves lucky few have the luxury to be
tutored by a Mage most of them are stuck with Rankers (There are 2,400
Rankers)."
The Mage snapped his fingers and he was gone, everyone was in a
large jungle, "the goal is to survive, there are currently 1,000 people who
wish to climb the tower when the number is reduced to 500, then you may
proceed. After there are 500 people left each one of you must choose groups
of 5 or more to join together as partners then when the whole collective has
formed groups of at least five then the next quest and training sessions will
begin and the climbing will continue. The jungle was alive, not just with the
sounds of unseen predators, but with the whispers of the Tower itself. The
humid air clung to Hermes' skin as she surveyed the other candidates. Some
had already started forming loose alliances, while others had disappeared into
the foliage, hunting or hiding. Survival wasn't just about skill—it was about
strategy.
She moved cautiously, slipping between the twisted roots of colossal
trees, her senses attuned to every shift in the air. The Spirit Blade was
strapped to her back, humming softly, as if responding to the ambient Qadar
that infused the environment. She didn't trust this test. She didn't trust
Arinsu. She barely even trusted herself, not with the First Shard still pulsing
faintly in the recesses of her consciousness. A rustle behind her. Hermes
spun, blade drawn. A figure darted forward—fast, too fast. Hooves struck the
ground, and before she could react, a blur of brown and gold barreled into
her, knocking her backward. She hit the ground hard, the air leaving her lungs
in a sharp gasp. Her attacker didn't hesitate. A curved blade flashed
downward. Hermes rolled to the side just in time, the blade striking the soil
where her neck had been. She caught a glimpse of her opponent—a goat-girl,
young but seasoned, with fierce violet eyes and a determined scowl. Her
curved horns gleamed in the dim jungle light, and her tail flicked in
anticipation. "You're in my way," the girl said, voice sharp as steel. Hermes
didn't respond. She launched herself upward, deflecting the next strike with
her Spirit Blade. The clash of their weapons sent sparks flying. Nelly was
relentless, her strikes precise, each one aimed to kill. Hermes, still disoriented
from the sudden attack, fought on instinct, her movements defensive but
fluid. A feint. A kick to the ribs. Hermes staggered back, but her training held
firm. She countered with a quick slash, forcing Nelly to disengage.
They circled each other, breathing hard. "You're strong," Nelly
admitted. "But I can't afford to lose here." Hermes' grip on her sword
tightened. "Then don't." Nelly lunged again, but this time Hermes was ready.
Instead of blocking, she sidestepped at the last second, twisting Nelly's
momentum against her. The goat-girl stumbled forward—just enough for
Hermes to press the blade against her throat. For a tense moment, neither
moved. Nelly exhaled sharply, then let out a short laugh. "Damn. Thought I
had you." Hermes didn't lower her blade. "Why did you attack me?"
"Simple." Nelly grinned, unbothered by the weapon at her neck. "I needed to
see if you were worth teaming up with." Hermes frowned. "You don't even
know me." "Exactly," Nelly said. "And trust is earned in battle." Hermes
hesitated. She didn't trust easily—not after Mira, not after everything. But
there was something different about Nelly. The goat-girl's eyes held no
deception, only a fierce will to survive. And she was right—trust was earned.
Slowly, Hermes lowered her sword. "We'll see." Nelly grinned wider,
rubbing her neck. "Yeah, I think we will." A distant roar shattered the quiet.
Both girls turned as the jungle trembled, the air thick with the scent of blood
and something far more ancient. The test was far from over. And whether
they liked it or not, they would have to survive it together. "Screw this!!" said
Hermes. When she charged her a giant multi-eyed creature confronted them,
"Nice try time for you both to die!!"
Nelly shrieked that they needed to work together. But Hermes smirked,
"No we don't. WHITE LIGHTNING!" Hermes shot lightning from her
fingers stunning the giant monstrosity, then Hermes shouted: "MAOI-MAOI
FIN!" Upon her saying this Hermes began to glow with red and blue energy.
Nelly was stunned, "that's a dangerous ability, every second you use that
technique, your body begins to be atomized. Most can't survive using that
ability for 2 minutes. You can see the body break down in real time." Nelly
looked over towards Hermes and something astonishing was clear, Hermes'
body was not breaking down at all. She had somehow made the energy of the
Maoi-Maoi Fin a part of her, but how could that be possible? Even gods
failed to do so. [Unknown to Nelly Ungar could use this attack without
disintegrating but he was an Immortal and Hermes was a mortal] how could
Hermes as mortal survive this? From a spaceship floating above the
battlefield Arinsu declared: "She's here, the monster has arrived." Hermes
shouted and with a burst of energy hit the creature in the gut sending him
flying. The creature began to fly backwards, from the shadows appeared
another person. Their name was Kael Veyra, he was a disgraced historian
who started a religious heresy. He was a native of Kataras, but had moved to
the vassal kingdom of al-Qandarharia and questioned the validity of the
religion of al-Qadar. Kael started a religion and declared that he was a
Prophet, the truth of the matter is that Kael was indeed a true Prophet, but a
minor Prophet at most. There had been many false prophets that appeared in
the kingdom of al-Qadar over the past 3,000 years and some real ones, many
of them real or fake, were exiled or killed. Kael was one of the lucky ones.
He had disappeared sometime 200 years back and apparently had
wound up in the Demon Realm. He was a small lanky man with tannish skin,
pointy ears, and black hair that reached the tips of his shoulders. He began to
fight the creature as well. Another man by the name of Zelani, a man with a
golden turban, standing 7 feet tall, with green pointy ears, and a white
weighted cape who was a demon of the Atari race, masters of sorcery, magic
and martial arts, many of whom had settled on Planet Atari in outer space.
He was one of the Atari who remained in the Demon Realms. Another person
that joined the fray was a magician of the alien-demon race known as the
atari, a little over 7 feet tall, with green skill, pointy ears, a yellow turban and
a white weighted cape with shoulder pads, he was a little over 500 years old
and a devout Buddhist. Another was Vex a short dwarf-like demon who was
incredibly greedy with a strong shoulder charge who was brilliant with tech
and had managed to steal much of the technology from the fallen Rankers
much of which was from the Dark Age of Technology that was from the
Gennie Empire which ruled over 25% of the Demon Empire for about
10,000 years and had collapsed a little over 1,000 years ago. And finally
Syren, a creature with a black hood who came from Dreadmarch's order and
was considered an outcast and Apostate of the Shadows being officially
excommunicated by the order long ago. They all leaped into battle against the
many eye monstrosities. The battle raged beneath the jungle canopy, the air
thick with the scent of burning foliage and the metallic tang of blood. Hermes
felt the raw power of the Maoi-Maoi Fin course through her veins, an energy
so potent that even the gods feared its use. Yet, she remained intact, her body
defying the very laws that dictated the ability's cost. Nelly, still awed by the
impossibility of Hermes' survival, snapped back to reality as the many-eyed
monstrosity roared, its grotesque form shifting like a living nightmare. Kael
Veyra moved swiftly, weaving ancient incantations with his hands. Blue sigils
burned in the air around him as he chanted, his voice rising in a rhythm older
than the Tower itself. "Foolish beast," he murmured. "You are not the first,
and you will not be the last."
The ground trembled as Zelani raised his hands, his golden turban
shimmering in the dim light. With a deep bellow, he summoned a massive
construct of energy, a golden spear bristling with raw Qadar. "This will end
it," he declared, his deep voice carrying authority and conviction. With a
mighty throw, the spear launched toward the creature, piercing one of its
central eyes. The beast howled, writhing in agony as black ichor spilled from
the wound, searing the jungle floor where it landed. Vex darted around the
battlefield, his stout form deceptively agile. He fiddled with a device
salvaged from the Dark Age of Technology, an ancient pulse cannon
humming in his grip. "Oi, stand clear!" he barked before unleashing a
concentrated blast of crimson energy. The beam struck the beast's hide,
leaving a sizzling crater in its flesh. Syren, the enigmatic apostate of the
Shadows, was nearly indistinguishable from the darkness itself. His cloak
rippled like liquid void, tendrils of shadow flickering around him. With a
flick of his wrist, he sent slivers of condensed night slicing through the
beast's flesh, severing limbs and eyes with surgical precision.
Hermes saw her opening. With a burst of speed, she launched herself
into the air, white lightning crackling around her. The Spirit Blade thrummed
with anticipation, its divine fire and water resonating with the raw Qadar that
filled the air. "This ends now!" she roared, bringing the blade down in a
strike infused with all of her might. The blade met flesh. A brilliant explosion
of light consumed the battlefield as the creature let out a final, gurgling wail.
The force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the jungle,
flattening trees and scattering debris in all directions. When the dust settled,
only a smoking crater remained where the beast had once stood. Silence fell
over the warriors as they caught their breath, their bodies battered but
victorious. Nelly leaned on her weapon, exhaling in relief. "Well," she
panted, "I guess we really didn't need to work together, huh?" Hermes
smirked, sheathing the Spirit Blade. "No," she admitted. "But it was fun."
Before they could celebrate, Arinsu's voice echoed from above, projected
from the hovering spacecraft. "Congratulations, warriors," he announced.
"You've proven yourselves in battle. You may proceed to the meeting hall."
From the walls of the tower stood two figured a boy with white hair, green
eyes and pointy ears and a girl with the same features they were brother and
sister, the illusive Erisa and Elsa. They were the guardians of this portion of
the tower, they leaned over and asked Arinsu, "that girl [referring to Hermes],
it's clear that she's a monster like us." Arinsu opened his mouth in shock,
then said, "Are you saying she's a god?" Erisa looked closer, "I'm not sure.
But she just used the Maoi-Maoi Fin, it's a technique unique to this universe
but she should be nothing but atoms concerning how long she used it, unless
she's something like.." Erisa and Elsa decided they would speak with Hermes
before she was able to socialize with everyone else.
Arinsu asked Hermes to follow him, little did she know she was headed
off to see Erisa and Elsa. They would test her power. Hermes followed
Arinsu through the labyrinthine corridors of the training facility, her senses
still heightened from the battle. The air was thick with a strange,
otherworldly energy, something that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.
She could feel the presence of the two figures before she even laid eyes on
them. At the top of a wide staircase stood Erisa and Elsa, their identical white
hair and green eyes gleaming under the dim, artificial light of the chamber.
Their presence was imposing, yet there was an undeniable elegance to the
way they carried themselves. "You're Hermes (the so-called Prophet)," Erisa
stated, his voice smooth but carrying an underlying edge. It wasn't a
question. Hermes squared her shoulders. "And you are?" Elsa smirked.
"Guardians of this floor of the Tower and many other floors to be frank."
Erisa tilted his head slightly, studying Hermes like one would a rare
specimen. "You used the Maoi-Maoi Fin for more than five minutes straight.
That shouldn't be possible. Not for a mortal." "I'm still standing," Hermes
replied flatly.
"That's exactly why we need to test you." Elsa's voice was firm, her
eyes glinting with something unreadable. Arinsu sighed, shaking his head. "I
had a feeling this would happen. Very well. Hermes, you have no choice but
to accept." Hermes took a deep breath. She had been through countless trials,
but something about this encounter felt different. These two weren't ordinary
beings. They radiated power, something far beyond what she had encountered
before. Erisa took a step forward, her fingers flickering with raw Qadar
energy. "We won't waste time. This will be a test of endurance, skill, and
potential." Elsa mirrored her movement, drawing a thin, curved blade from
the air itself. "If you survive, we'll have our answer." Hermes unsheathed her
Spirit Blade, its ethereal hum vibrating through the chamber. "Let's get this
over with." The room exploded into chaos. Elsa was the first to strike, her
blade moving faster than sight. Hermes barely had time to parry before Erisa
sent a wave of energy crashing toward her. She twisted her body, avoiding the
worst of the impact but feeling the sheer force threaten to rip her balance
away. She didn't have a moment to breathe. Elsa reappeared behind her,
aiming for a critical strike. Hermes reacted instinctively, her own blade
meeting Elsa's in a shower of sparks. The two locked eyes, and for the
briefest moment, Elsa's smirk widened. "You're quick," Elsa admitted,
pressing forward with relentless attacks. Hermes gritted her teeth, countering
each strike while keeping an eye on Erisa, who was weaving another complex
spell. The air thickened, gravity shifting as the spell took form. "Enough
playing," Erisa murmured.
With a flick of his wrist, a spear of golden energy materialized and shot
toward Hermes at blinding speed. Hermes barely managed to twist out of the
way, but the force of the blast sent her skidding across the chamber floor. She
coughed, pushing herself up. Her body was aching, but something within her
surged. A power she barely understood. A power that refused to let her fall.
"Not bad," Elsa said, flipping her blade effortlessly. "But you're holding
back." Hermes narrowed her eyes. They were testing her, not just her skill,
but her very nature. Fine. If they wanted to see what she was capable of, she
would show them. She raised her blade, and for the first time, she let the
Maoi-Maoi Fin fully awaken within her. A crimson and blue aura erupted
around her, the very air vibrating with raw energy. Erisa's eyes widened
slightly. "So it's true..." Elsa grinned. "Now this is interesting." Hermes
charged, her speed far surpassing anything she had displayed before. She
became a blur, her strikes landing with force that made even Elsa stagger.
Erisa called it off: "That's enough we're satisfied. So we'll tell you who we
are, and who we believe...you are."
Hermes put the Spirit Blade as the aura desipiated. "What do you mean
I'm a Prophet, but who are you? Your energy is unlike most I've faced."
Erisa smiled and said: "Isn't it obvious we're gods." Hermes gasped and
Erisa continued. "You see we were born an ungodly long time ago, more than
9,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 nonillion years ago. We
we're created by the Goddess "Ariku," back during that time. He sent us as
Messengers and Angels to where countless different worlds in the last 9
nonillion years we have traversed to no less than
800,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,0.00 duodecillian
Multiverses (or separate Universes), we have encountered more forms of
life than you could imagine and we have been on more adventures than you
could count sometimes serving as the main protagonists and sometimes as
side characters so-to-speak. During our last crossing between realms,
universes and dimensions we crossed paths with a dark god named
"Istotane." This was a little over 2,400 years ago, long story short he
banished us trapping us within a specific world, i.e. this one, we were
confronted by the King of this Tower (the Tower of Babel) when our
immense power was discovered to be the guardians or Rankers of many of
the 500,000,000,000 billion floors of this tower. Starting with this floor,
Floor Number: 255,000,000,500 spank in the middle of this tower." Hermes
interjected: "Wait so how many rankers are there?" Elsa put her finger to her
chin: "It depends on what you define as ranker but either way it's between 5
and 13." After a short pause Erisu stated: "Now for what we believe you
are." Hermes grabbed her sword: "I told you what I am, I'm a Prophet." Erisa
laughed: "No you're a god." The room shattered with silence. Hermes yelled
back: "What the hell are you talking about?" Erisu replied: "Put simply, only
immortals can survive being torn apart by the Maoi-Maoi Wave, if you can
survive permanently without being ripped apart into atoms you are an
immortal, either in this world or in another form. Meaning you can die but
the soul inside you is that of an immortal. In fact we read your soul's lite and
we found it will reincarnate, in your next life seemingly over 200 years from
now, you will reincarnate as some God-Like Monarch who will rule in
the far-future in another universe, in another galaxy, forge an empire
across the stars, squash cults and rule as a Caesar. You may fail in that
life, and it seems unclear whether or not you will succeed in this one. But one
thing is for sure, in this life it's impossible the Maoi-Maoi fin will do you in,
period." Hermes gasped remembering how Ungar could do the Maoi-Maoi
Wave indefinitely but Talus could not, perhaps they were speaking the truth.
Erisu began to walk awave as he waved: "Well in any event, tata. We'll
see you next time when the time arrives irregular. Stay safe." Hermes began
to growl. Arinsu for his part led her to the mess hall. As they left Elsa asked
Erisu, "Brother, should we contact Uvia about this." Erisu nodded. They
contacted Uvia telepathically. Erisu said, "Uvia we have intel, it's been
confirmed Hermes is indeed a god, but we are unsure what kind. One thing is
for sure, this must be the reason the Cult of Archon is after her, it's the only
logical explanation. I would notify any of her comrades in the outside realm
(i.e. the Universe Helios is within) that is trustworthy, but leave it within that
circle." Uvia nodded, "I'll notify Ungar immediately." Erisu and Elsa gasped:
"Did you say Ungar?" Uvia replied: "Yes, there is a problem." Erisu replied:
"Nothing we just met him one time in one of our travels and we consider him
an old friend this was when he arrived in the Demon Realm on a visit a little
over 1,000 years ago, needless to say tell him we said hi, and as you know
one of the members of the Demon-Realm Council (Order of Leviathan)
would like to challenge Ungar to a friendly rematch." Uvia shook her head,
"Understood, and I'll tell him the Knight would like to challenge him to a
rematch. Thank you." Erisu and Elsa hung up and Uvia said: "I need to
contact Ungar."