by Neven Iliev
“It’s done!” he shouted. “Get us out of here before that thing arrives!”
The female Monk swept the man up in an under-arm carry, unfurled her ethereal wings, and departed the scene with all due haste. They had mere seconds before the guest of honor arrived, after which his legendary temper would do all the work for them. The summoner’s MP would have only been enough to fuel the demon’s rampage for ten minutes at most, but to those elves on the ground, they would be the longest ten minutes of their lives.
With a fiery explosion strong enough to shake the entire city, the Overlord of the Flaming Legion entered the battlefield.
“TREMBLE, MORTALS, AND DESPAIR! FOR NAGNAMOR HAS COME!”
Standing well over seven meters tall, with smoldering wings the size of fields, a half-molten demonic skull for a head, and a glaive large enough to cleave houses in half, the demon formally announced his arrival. After making sure he had made a sufficiently dramatic entrance, the Overlord took in his surroundings. He sensed the presence of his summoner, who retreated through the air with truly commendable speed. Normally, Nagnamor’s first order of business was making sure the trifling insect that dared to call him forth from the Beyond was sufficiently squished, but today was an exception.
He directed his infernal gaze away from that cowardly gnat and scanned over the city’s rooftops. All around him he felt the presence of Republic soldiers – thousands of mortal souls whose wholesale slaughter would bring him great pleasure. Even more fodder was situated further south, concentrated around the city’s edge. Those were the Imperial troops that intended to dump Nagnamor on their enemies and indirectly make use of his power while avoiding his wrath. They clearly saw him as nothing but a mindless brute and woefully underestimated his intelligence if they thought he wouldn’t catch onto their little scheme. It was an insult that any fiend worth their horns would return by squashing them flat for their insolence.
None of this was of immediate concern to the Overlord. Right there, right then, well within his reach was the one who had made a fool of him not so long ago. The most infamous and feared of all demon-kind had been forced to endure the truly unprecedented humiliation of allowing a mortal to boss him around. Perhaps the worst part of that affair was that the one responsible had been an indescribably insignificant little box that managed to stumble onto an idiotic loophole by pure accident. Having been bested through blind luck rather than through wit or might was what made the archfiend so unbelievably salty over the whole ordeal.
Which was why, rather than stomp on mortals to his heart’s content, Nagnamor would use his full insurmountable might to obliterate that arrogant creature. He would incinerate it so thoroughly that even its wretched little soul would be reduced to ash. Before he could do any of that, however, the Overlord first had to find his mark. His scorching gaze flitted between New Whitehall’s scarce landmarks. He cross-referenced them with what he saw through the Boxxy Show podcast in the Beyond, just before he was summoned. It only took a few seconds to determine the shapeshifter’s approximate location.
“MORNINGWOOOOOOOOOOOD!” he bellowed with a voice like rolling thunder. “I’M COMING FOR YOU, YOU INSUFFERABLE LITTLE BUG!”
Nagnamor broke out in a sprint. Like a mad bull, he crashed through or trampled over the single and double-story buildings in his way. His bottomless hate and thirst for revenge manifested themselves as raging crimson flames that enveloped his entire body as he made a beeline towards Keira’s last known position. The unwitting Republic soldiers, conscripts, and reserves caught in his wake did their best to get out of the way, but it was a futile effort. His sheer speed combined with the ungodly intensity of his flames reduced everything to cinders in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but a smoldering black trench in his wake.
Though seemingly futile, the Republic still made an attempt to stop, or at the very least slow down the sentient mass of hatred. Nagnamor was headed for the central plaza, and his passage would surely decapitate the defenders’ command post and leave their troops in disarray. With seconds to spare, the 2nd Legion launched every Spell and arrow they could at the Overlord. Their attempts were about as effective as the raindrops that evaporated before they could even touch the archfiend’s blazing skull.
Just as Nagnamor was about to enter the critical plaza, a streak of golden light zoomed straight at his face. The Overlord felt a dull impact against the side of his skull, one powerful enough to knock him off-balance and send him careening into a nearby empty grain silo. The unexpected shift in momentum caused him to trip over his own cloven feet. He fell over like an avalanche of fire and steel, wiping out most of a residential block. The demon immediately rose to his feet while swinging his glaive in a wide circular motion. The massive weapon released streaks of semi-solid fire that mowed down and burned away everything in their path. That one swing instantly demolished everything in thirty meters of him.
“WHO DARES STAND IN THE WAY OF NAGNAMOR’S WARPATH?!”
“It is I, demon!”
Floating several meters in the air was a man clad head-to-toe in radiant, golden armor. A pair of majestic, hawk-like wings sprouted from his back while a halo positively brimming with holy energy surrounded his head. A massive warhammer with an intricately covered shaft and head was in his hands. The weapon shone with a blinding light that was somehow both beautiful and terrible.
“My name is Alduin Lichter! Grand Champion of the Blessed of Nyrie, and guardian to the people of the Republic!”
The elven Paladin had ignored his orders to lay low and safeguard his own skin in order to confront and contain the rampaging Overlord.
“DIE, INSECT!”
Caring little for trifling mortal titles, Nagnamor swung his massive weapon at Lichter with speed and strength that no mere mortal could hope to contest.
*CLANGGGGG*
And yet the much smaller Paladin caught the demon’s glaive with his own holy warhammer, stopping it dead in its tracks.
“I say thee nay!”
The demon’s flaming eye sockets burned with an even brighter flame as he rebuilt his stance and reassessed his puny opponent. The holy energy oozing out of the mortal’s equipment gave the archdemon pause. He surmised that armor seemed to be what was giving this mortal his unreasonable strength, and he correctly guessed that this power was a terribly temporary arrangement.
Indeed, Lichter’s ability to stand toe-to-toe with a demonic Overlord stemmed from his Ultimate Skill, Divine Regalia. It imbued his weapons and armor with a surge of holy energy, raising their performance to the point where they put the ephemeral Phantasmal-grade items to shame, perhaps even venturing into the legendary Divine tier. The blessed arms and armor boosted the Paladin’s combat abilities several times over, but it came at a rather steep price. Divine Regalia steadily consumed the Paladin’s accumulated Faith (FTH) while active, and the stress it placed upon his equipment would cause it to irreparably break once the transformation subsided.
Embarrassingly enough, that also included his underwear.
“IMPRESSIVE,” yelled the Overlord with a hint of delight in his voice. “I DID NOT EXPECT A WORTHY CHALLENGER TO SHOW UP! BUT, MY BUSINESS IS NOT WITH YOU, HOLY BEETLE! STAND ASIDE SO THAT I MIGHT FULFILL MY PURPOSE!”
“I will not!” declared Lichter, his voice booming loud enough to rival the demon’s. “You cannot be allowed to endanger the lives of my comrades any further! Whatever your dark purpose, you shall not pass!”
“HAH! AHAH! AH HAH HAHAH! AHAHAHAAAAH!”
The high elf braced himself as the demon laughed menacingly. In truth, Nagnamor rather enjoyed this exchange. It had been far too long since he had a challenger that could so much as scratch him. Usually only something along the lines of an adult dragon gave him pause, so this was a rare treat indeed. His infernal blood boiled with excitement at the prospect of overwhelming this opponent. Last but not least, the Overlord was a fan of the classics. A brave holy warrior standing up to a much greater evil in an hour of dire need
was the sort of cliché story that the archfiend loved to partake in. After all, he was more or less solely responsible for creating many old legends with similar developments.
If the circumstances were different, Nagnamor would have definitely stayed around and played with the Paladin. However, the Overlord was short on time. That insufferable little box was surely getting farther and farther away with every second he delayed. Revenge was more important than recreation, so the demon needed to get this self-righteous elf out of his way. He knew just the way to do it, too.
“THEN LET US SEE HOW MUCH YOU TREASURE YOUR COMRADES, FOOL!”
The demon raised his glaive above his head while staring intently at the nearby city hall building, causing Lichter to momentarily panic. That large circular slash the demon made earlier revealed that the range of his attacks extended far beyond the reach of his weapon, so there was no doubt in the Paladin’s mind as to what would happen next. The angelic elf’s body moved with the same blinding speed as before, placing him firmly between the demon and the Republic’s command center. It seemed he made it in time to block the incoming attack, but there was one problem.
It was a feint.
Instead of striking at the building full of mortals, Nagnamor’s weapon stabbed the ground beneath the Overlord’s feet. It dug deep into the dirt and rock as if it were a shovel, causing spurts of magma to erupt around it. He gripped the long handle with both hands channeling his power into the ground while the Paladin was flying pointlessly around.
“RIIIIISE,” groaned the demon.
Realizing he’d been tricked, Lichter charged towards the Overlord with a yell.
“RISE!”
The elf swung his hammer at the demon’s face, but was far too late to stop him.
“LEGION RISE!”
The crimson flames protecting Nagnamor’s body suddenly rose in intensity. The fierce rush of hot air blew Lichter back, causing him to temporarily lose control of his flight. The earth shook fiercely, causing buildings to fall over seemingly at random as hundreds of cracks bubbling over with lava appeared all over the surrounding area. The Paladin watched in abject horror as countless humanoid figures made out of molten rock and stone emerged from the flaming abyss. Although they looked like molten golems, these monsters were actually a species of especially malevolent demons called the ifrit, and each and every one of them was Nagnamor’s subordinate. And, true to their demonic heritage, they began indiscriminately attacking everything in sight.
This was the Flaming Legion, whose only purpose was to extinguish life.
“You… What have you done!?” shouted Lichter at Nagnamor.
He charged at the Overlord dead on, only to be swatted out of the air by the demon’s backhanded swing. He flew through a building and crashed into the ground with a cloud of dust. Nagnamor pulled his weapon out of the ground and gave the pitiable mortal one last glance. He was sure those divine armaments kept the gnat out of death’s door, but his subordinates would make sure he was far too busy fending them off to get in his way again. It was a bit regrettable he wouldn’t be able to enjoy a proper throw-down with someone worthy. Nagnamor chose to blame this missed opportunity on Boxxy, adding yet more fuel to his scorching fury.
When he turned his gaze southward once again, the Overlord saw something clearly out of place. Much like his own arrival spot, the clouds in the sky seemed to have been punctured clean through, and a thick, light-blue mist gathered directly underneath it.
“NO…” he grit his teeth. “NO, NO, NO NO NO!”
With a tiny flash of light and almost no sound, a white mass of something shot up into the air. Although from a distance it looked like a geyser throwing up an incalculable volume of snow, Nagnamor knew it was something infinitely more dreadful than powdered, frozen water. It was a deluge of millions upon millions of pure white, ball-like spiders, each no larger than a thumb and sporting a set of eight long hair-thin legs. They rose high up into the air and caught an unnatural gust of icy-cold wind that sent them flying straight at Nagnamor’s location. They loomed overhead like a heavy mist before converging into a single spot. Their slender arachnid limbs and impossibly thin spider silk wove and intermingled together as they rapidly combined into a singular form.
The result looked like someone had glued a teenage girl’s upper body onto the back of a large spider’s head, then supersized the gruesome-yet-alluring combination until it was large enough to be at Nagnamor’s eye level. Both the arachnid carapace and human-like skin were ivory white and completely smooth, while the girl’s long, silky hair hung to her waist and draped over her otherwise naked body like a loose shawl. Each half had its own set of glowing red eyes, giving the amalgamation a total of ten.
After forming in a matter of seconds, the gigantic construct landed squarely in front of Nagnamor. It touched down so softly and silently one wouldn’t be blamed for thinking it was an illusion born from a cloud. The girl’s doll-like face cracked a wide smile.
“Yo, Nagnamoron. How ya doin’?”
A youthful, playful voice rang out around her even though her alabaster lips didn’t move.
“LIUSOLRA!” Nagnamor bellowed. “WHY ARE YOU OUT HERE?!”
“Uhm, duh?! Because I was, like, called out? That’s just, like, how the rituals work, fam!”
“DID THAT INSUFFERABLE GNAT BRING YOU OUT HERE?!”
“Who the what now?! I’ve no idea who you’re, like, talking about! The one that rang me up was, like, totally polite and sweet and junk.”
Nagnamor straightened his posture and pointed his weapon threateningly at his fellow Overlord’s head.
“ARE YOU HERE TO GET IN MY WAY?!”
“Like, no way, fam! I just got invited to come out and play around for a bit, knowwhatimsayin?”
The skin on the girl’s arms began to crawl and shift as the arachnid demon’s Endless Swarm rapidly reconstructed her left hand into a long, crystalline blade.
“I just like to play rough!”
With those indignant words, Liusolra’s avatar swung at Nagnamor’s neck. The archfiend easily deflected the blows with his weapon and immediately counterattacked, cutting the white spider-girl-thing’s arm clean off. Countless white strands shot out from both ends of the severed arm as it instantly reattached itself while the other made a stabbing motion with an icy dagger that appeared out of thin air. It did little but smash against Nagnamor’s armor and momentarily quell the raging inferno surrounding him.
“FUCK OFF, YOU OLD HAG!”
“Make me, loser!”
Her indignant reply was accompanied by a barrage of magical ice spikes that were countered by a wave of flame from the archfiend.
“AT LEAST FIGHT FOR YOURSELF INSTEAD OF USING A PUPPET!” he demanded.
He then swung his glaive and cut said puppet’s head clean off, but the face merely stuck its tongue out mockingly at him before the neck reattached itself to the shoulders.
The Overlord of the Endless Swarm hadn’t shown her true self for millennia, and she wasn’t about to change that. Just because she was the oldest and arguably the most cooperative of the four demonic Overlords didn’t necessarily mean she had to make a personal appearance. Nor did it mean she had to be all big and flashy like a certain hot-headed loudmouth. In fact, Liusolra’s actual appearance and form didn’t differ in the slightest from the countless remote-control clones that currently made up her avatar. It was truly mind-boggling how a frame that small could handle so much power. Her real body was currently tucked away in the darkest, dankest little corner of the city where nobody would ever find it.
As for why Liusolra was so readily standing up to Nagnamor, it was precisely because Boxxy had asked nicely. That was really all there was to it. She didn’t have a habit of instantly eliminating her summoners since, much like a certain enterprising shapeshifter, the Stalker Queen understood the value of ‘repeat business.’ Furthermore, that funny little box had provided her with a once-in-a-millennium opportunity to feast on the ancient en
ergies of an Overlord. From a stalker’s perspective, magic aged like fine wine, and Nagnamor was a delectable vintage that Liusolra couldn’t wait to sink her mandibles into.
All three hundred million of them.
The massive demons fought each other fiercely, both combatants unleashing devastating attacks upon their opponent. Nagnamor thrust his glaive forward only to have the Stalker Queen stop it by freezing the very air around it. Though the attack failed, it produced a wave of heat that melted a nearby building and instantly boiled the fourteen soldiers hiding inside. Liusolra retaliated by slamming the foremost limbs of her arachnid lower end into the ground, causing a cascade of ice spikes to rise from it. The archfiend easily evaded it by leaping into the air like a volcano on legs, but the poor souls seeking shelter in the sewers underneath were crushed by the glacial wave.
As the Overlords’ duel progressed, it became clear that neither could overpower the other. They were so closely matched that it seemed as though their battle would rage for an entire week. That obviously wasn’t going to happen since both of them only had minutes to spare before they were ejected from the mortal realm. However, there was already a clear loser in the clash between the hateful flames and the gluttonous ice. Namely, the unfortunate mortals caught in their wake despite their best efforts.
Avoiding an Overlord’s fury was no simple task. Their tremendous bodies moved with such illogical speed and force that their mere passage caused the world around them to rip itself apart. Worst of all, they kept throwing each other around on top of each combatant trying to maneuver themselves into a more advantageous position. As a result, roughly a quarter of the city had been flattened into a ravaged wasteland even though it had only been a few minutes since Liusolra was summoned. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that each of them was a sentient calamity in their own right.
