Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 381 Children of the Fallen Ones

By the time Tasha arrived at the entrance, the men of Ravine Fort stood armed, their bows nocked at the ready along the high wall, while those below stood with their swords and spears poised for combat. It was apparent that this was not the first time they'd experienced a similar situation.

A young man, not much older than Altair, stood draped in black with seven similar figures behind him. Twin scimitars strapped to their back. His ears suggested he was an elf, but his scent was all wrong. He was tall, his skin shaded as if he was one with the shadows.

'Trow,' Tasha determined, holding her stare on the tarnished creature.

"Is this how you greet your guest?" El'von shouted, his voice lashing across the ears of everyone present. His cold red eyes searched the crowd for something or perhaps someone. "Lower your weapons!"

The men of Ravine Fort did not move.

"You're bloodlust is apparent," Chief Klave Hor said. "Whatever your business, we want no part in it."

El'von scuffed, expecting as much. "We are in search of a young man! A fourth-circle male. Ashen hair, handsome, perhaps accompanied by two women?!" The change in the faces of some of the younger men brought a smile to his face. "It would seem you've seen them. Give them to us, and we shall leave!

If not..."

Behind the Chief, Tasha was without expression, her disguised appearance of Sister Audry holding strong.

"Ravine Fort is under the protection of the Temple of Sepith," she said loudly. "The Goddess of Mercy shall not offer any mercy should you attack our home!"

"Goddess of Mercy," El'von growled. "Ariandel holds no dominion over us! Ko'vak!"

'Impure Weakling,' Tasha translated. She hadn't expected much. The Trows were infamous for their bloodlust. They were followers of Muardral, the God of the First Rot. The moniker he'd earned by ascending into a Grimm.

Flashes of anger jolted across the faces of the men above the wall, their fingers beginning to itch.

"Blasphemous!" A voice echoed from one man to the other. "Have you forgotten of the Great Purification! That Blessed Almor for nearly a decade!" "The Will of Ariendel purified the Realm of all disease, poisons, and death for ten years!"

"We can't expect much from a Trow! Worshipers of an Evil God! Children of the Fallen Ones!"

The Trow's expression hardened, and everyone felt some weight in the bowls—a fear that crept in as if the realization of what was before them became more apparent. The Children of the Fallen Ones, the Grimms, the Heralds of the Fallen Angels, and the Gods of the Trow.

Shields were raised as Mana gathered, turning the air acrid. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder for those beneath the Fifth circle to stand as many fainted, unable to maintain a presence.

Tasha took a step forward. 'Worshipers of Muardral, hear me! The ones you seek left at the sound of the bell tolls. Leave! They had two Ninth Circles with them, right? I saw them with my two eyes.

Should they somehow possess even a sliver of his Divinity, her compulsion would be broken, and a battle would ensue.

"You did the right thing, Ko'vak," the Trow said, laughing to himself as he left in a flicker through the eastern gate.

When the last shadow of the Followers of Muardral vanished over under the watchful eye of the village militia, Tasha's lips perked up. She spun to stare at the Chief, confused expression. "Themme's that was reckless and—" his words faded with the light in his eyes as he became clouded.

The young men and women who were slowly gathering lost in conversation as to what just occurred, fell to their knees. Be they man or woman, children or elderly, none could speak as the Lilm's pheromones began invading their bodies without the slightest hint of mercy.

"It was my mistake not enslaving the village the moment I saw them. Next time, I know." she thought, marking the souls of each man, woman, and child present with a wave of her palm. An eldritch flash of light connected above their heads, sinking into their Soul Flame, marking them property.

"Devil!" A sheik echoed through the air.

Tasha looked toward the three Clerics of Sepith, shrouded by the light of Ariandel. She smiled, and her face phased from Sister Audry's appearance back to her devilish one.

"You!"

"Me," Tasha mused as Gram appeared in her hand. It shrank from a sword's length to a dagger, its features slightly curving into a fang; she held it by the handle in a reverse grip. Don't worry; I won't kill you all. In fact... I'll offer your souls to Muardral. Perhaps he might gift me his blessing as he watches as I tarnish you three." Her scarlet eyes burned hellfire as, one by one, her thralls rose.

"NO!" Tebe shrieked, her mace burning with a sacred flame. "No!"

"You're with them! You're with them!" Ylve cried, exposing the village to the Aura of Ariandel. The thralls screamed, falling back to their knees, clawing at their faces without regard for what was torn away.

Tasha's skin began to sizzle before the effect of the Aura of Ariandel faded beneath the Baelful Aura, bleeding from her being.

"Clerics of Light, they called you all. How fitting. One of you has even Taken the Oath of Iron. Unfortunately, unless you had an entire battalion of those who have taken the Oath of Silence, then perhaps I might have feared." she lifted her palm, Demonic Essence writhing across flesh.

Tendrils rose from the screaming thralls, and they rose once more, their bloodied expression twisting into one of manacle laughter.

"We must run!" Reka shouted. A shield of holy light pulsed around her arm, and a mace formed in the other. "GO! I'll hold her back! Go!"

"Silly children," Tasha said calmly as the Chief speed-blitzed the three. His Nine Circles burned hot in his chest. There is nowhere to run: This is the end. Right here. So do accept what's about to happen with grace."

"No!" "No!" "No!"

The Devil of the Nine Hells ignored their terror. "As offerings to Muardral, you three need to be... tenderized. Do enjoy it. By the time I'm done, you'll be screaming Muardral's name—Broken and Tarnished."