The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

"Surrender and pledge your allegiance to me, and I will spare your lives."

The demon’s announcement echoed through the courtyard that separated the keep from the gate. For just a moment, all combat paused.

It seemed obvious to me that the demon’s offer was only for the most powerful remaining defenders. But some of the basic local troops responded first. They collapsed to their knees and laid their weapons on the ground.

Meanwhile, not one of the defenders the demon actually wanted to spare indicated they had even heard the offer. Instead, they began to converge on the demon, reaping the lives of any undead or demonic soldier that came between them and their new foe.

Screams tore through the air as combat resumed in earnest.

The demon snorted, but he looked pleased rather than angry. "Expected. Very well, then. Know that you will be felled by Naberius, the right hand of the Grand Duke of Torment!"

Declaration made, the demon grasped at the air in front of him. The temperature in the entire courtyard plummeted. I could feel frost crystals creeping over my skin.

Frozen, both literally and figuratively, I watched in awe as ice sprouted from the demon’s closed fist. A vicious spike jutted from the bottom while a dazzling flower unfurled from the top. Then, out of the flower, a blade of the purest ice emerged, growing until the demon held a jagged sword.

Faster than my eyes could follow, he appeared right in front of the woman wielding two flaming blades.

To her credit, she managed to lash out with both her swords. Unfortunately, as soon as her weapons got near Naberius, their flames sputtered and then snuffed out entirely. The demon’s blade glowed with an inner light, like it had somehow fed on his enemy’s fire.

And then Naberius swung his ice-sword.

It bit straight into the woman’s right shoulder, and just kept going. The blade sundered her from shoulder to hip. Her body fell apart in two halves, both pieces frozen so well that they didn’t even chip as they hit the stone pavement with a clatter.

I heard a scream somewhere overhead. Looking up, I saw the roof-standing archer redoubling his efforts. One arrow turned into two, which turned into four, multiplying again and again until the volley resembled a deadly meteor shower.

The arrows streaked towards Naberius with pinpoint accuracy. The hulking monster just smirked and stabbed his sword into the ground.

A wave of frost erupted from the stones, covering the whole courtyard and everything in it at a terrifying speed. Somehow, the ice swept over me and the other demonic subordinates without even ruffling our clothes.

The locals were not so lucky.

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Two of the notable defenders, the mage and holy warrior, fended off the ice with a blaze of mana and holy power respectively. But even they nearly faltered, which meant their comrades didn’t even stand a chance.

Frost raced across the ground and crawled up the defenders’ bodies, except for the ones who had surrendered. Screams turned into whimpers as mouths froze over. Soon, all the local troops in the courtyard were little more than fancy ice sculptures.

The frost-wave also tore through the air, completely disrupting the rain of arrows. The missiles simply winked out mid-flight. Only one, the original arrow, continued on its course. Naberius swatted it aside with the back of his hand, not even flinching at the minor explosion that followed.

Again, Naberius grasped at the air in front of him. The fire whip reappeared in his hand, unfurling into twelve strands of flame. The fiery tendrils cut through the ground, the wall, and several of the defenders before converging on the archer.

The man dropped his bow and drew a pair of short swords. Struggling to cover his own retreat, he swung the blades in a rapid blur, managing to deflect or split eight of the demon’s fire-strands.

The other four found their mark.

The archer screamed as flaming tendrils entangled his body, searing his skin. Grunting, Naberius gave the whip a sharp tug, cutting through more of the human’s flesh as he recalled the whip. Then he cast the weapon aside into a shower of deadly sparks and hefted his ice-sword again.

The remaining defenders flinched as the pieces of the archer’s body slid off the roof, pelting the pavement where his arrows had struck moments before.

For a moment, there was a stalemate. None of the remaining champions looked eager to charge into combat — not the spearman, not the knight, not the holy warrior, and definitely not the mage. The former two were still half-stuck in ice and the mage kept stealing glances at the inner keep, like she was tempted to bolt for it.

"You may still choose to surrender now," Naberius said, his voice was calm and flat like he was pointing out the most obvious of facts. "I will not begrudge your desire to protect your homeland. But surely, you must see that such a prospect is hopeless? The least you can do is stand down now and have a say in how your people are treated in the future."

"You would promise us power under your regime then, beast?" The knight’s tone made it clear just how much confidence he had in their chances of fair treatment.

Honestly, I agreed with his assessment of the situation. Hayden’s memories made it equally clear exactly what the demons did to the worlds they conquered.

"Trust me or don’t, it is your choice," Naberius said. "Know that you will die here unless you bend the knee. Your world is destined for destruction, but you and yours do not have to share that fate."

That was enough for the mage. Her mana suddenly cut off, and she let her combat gear clatter to the ground. Under the demon’s approving stare, she trotted over to the kneeling soldiers who’d been spared a frosty death.

"Traitor!" the spear holder hissed. He looked ready to charge at the mage with his lightning bolt weapon.

"Traitor, or a wise woman?" Naberius’s sigh echoed through the courtyard with supernatural loudness, forestalling any stupid moves from the mage’s former comrades. "At least she will live to see another sunrise. This is your last warning. I cherish talent, and you clearly have it in abundance. But I will not let you delay us further. We have a schedule to keep."

The spear holder screamed and tore through the courtyard, in the most literal sense. His charge was so powerful that the icy stone pavement cracked under his feet. As he ran, he seemed to merge with his weapon, fusing with its electric power until the line between lightning and flesh was just a matter of perspective.

The demon didn’t bother to react. He just stood there, letting the spearman crash straight into him, looking bored as the exotic weapon met his unholy flesh.

The flesh won.

As soon as the lightning spear hit the demon, the weapon exploded. The man was reduced to a screaming wreck, arcs of electricity sparking off of him as the recoil of his own power wreaked havoc on his body. Naberius raised his foot calmly and brought it down on the man’s head with a sickening squelch.

There was a moment of horrified silence.

It was the knight who spoke next. His odd onion armor gave his voice a strange, disturbing echo. I had to stop myself from covering my ears.

"I do so hate to say this, brother mine," the knight said. "But it appears we must fight together."

The holy warrior paused, sighed, and nodded. "That does appear to be the case. Well, I did say I’d rather die than acknowledge you again, but there’s not much difference between that and suicide. Besides, my patrons would be rather upset if I failed to stop this demon."

The demon spread his arms, giving his opponents the right of first move. "Come forth then, and have your mettle tested."

For a beat, nothing happened. Then a thrum echoed from each knight, building as it bounced back and forth between them. It was even more unpleasant than the knight’s armor-amplified voice.

I clenched my teeth together, fighting the urge to cover my ears. That would be a sign of weakness and I could not afford such a display in front of my peers or my commander.

Weakness meant death.

Finally, when both knights were glowing with the force of their shared power, they launched their city’s final defense.

They moved much faster than before, and with a fluidity that stunned me. Their attacks were a choreographed dance as they darted around their enemy, working together without ever getting in each other’s way.

Naberius let them get close, then lashed out. His sword carved a jagged furrow straight through the chest of the holy warrior, but the human didn’t flinch. I watched, mesmerized, as the frozen gash began sealing up instantly. Even more impressive, the holy warrior continued his attack, ignoring his ruined chest muscles and bringing his own sword down on the demon’s shoulder.

For the first time, I saw a wound appear on Naberius’s flesh. Unnaturally bright crimson blood oozed from the cut, spitting and hissing upon exposure to the air.

At the same time, the other knight’s mallet landed on the demon’s hip with a crack, making the demon commander stumble.

But the demon laughed. It was a terrible sound, full of unholy mirth and excitement and absolute bloodlust. If the knight’s voice made me want to cover my ears, the demon commander’s laugh made me want to curl up and hide.

Before the knights could attack again, Naberius surged forward. Faster than anything I had ever seen a living being move, he gripped the holy warrior by the neck and slammed him into the wall that had kept the demonic troops out the entire day. I couldn’t see it from my angle, but I could vividly picture the vicious smile on my commander’s face as he flexed his legs and started grinding the human’s body against the unforgiving rock.

The holy warrior screamed and thrashed, trying to wiggle out of the demon’s grasp, but it was a vain endeavor. By the time Naberius ran out of wall, all that remained of the warrior was half a body and one long, grisly smear on the stone. The demon let the half-body drop, deader than dead.

The remaining knight screamed in anguish, raising his weapon once more. I should have felt touched, or at least horrified. Instead, I just felt disbelief. After everything he’d witnessed, did he actually think he stood a chance of survival?

Regardless of my opinions on the subject, the man was clearly determined to try grinding my commander into paste. He swung his mallet again and again, but without his fellow knight’s power backing him up, his efforts were woefully lacking.

The demon gave another sigh. Looking more bored than ever, he swung his sword at the knight, cutting through his armor easily.

Then the icy weapon got stuck.

At the same time, a cloud of spores erupted from the man’s plate armor, covering both the knight and the demon. The commander actually staggered for a few seconds, choking and coughing, before he managed to teleport halfway across the courtyard to get away from the knight.

The human turned, and I got my first glimpse inside his armor. It consisted of many hollow layers, stacked together to give him his bloated, onion-like appearance. Each of those layers was filled with toxic spore-tossing fungi.

The fight to keep from covering my ears was lost in my fight to avoid vomiting.

"You will die for that, demon," the enraged man snarled. He began walking towards Naberius with determined steps, leaving a trail of spores in his wake.

The demon was still coughing, but I didn’t see any fear or concern on his face. He just looked deeply annoyed as he fixed the approaching knight with a glare.

The knight raised his mallet. "I shall —"

The demon raised his hand. A torrent of flames burst from his palm, cutting off the knight’s final words. The fire blazed across the courtyard, glowing red to white and finally blue as it engulfed every spore, all the fungi within the knight’s armor, and the knight itself.

Note to self: don’t piss off extremely powerful demons.

"Well, that’s that." Snarling, the demon turned away from the devastation he had unleashed. He turned his full attention on the mage who had surrendered. "I can feel one more superior human soul within this keep, different than the rest of these basic souls. Take us to your former leader, and we shall finish this."

Pale and sweating, the mage nodded rapidly and began walking into the keep.

The demon glanced at me and my comrades. He raised his brow. Driven by instinct, I set off after the woman at a march.

Apparently, that was the right thing to do. Along with a couple other soldiers who reacted the same, I received a small approving smile from my commander.

I really hoped that meant I could avoid getting fired.

Literally and metaphorically.