Chaos in the Dark

King of Nero Sleeth "Kaine" Mythue vs Zethelos Dragon God of Chaos

"I'm just going to take a look down there" said a Neroan slave driver to one of his co-workers as he prepared to descend the shaft. Ancient burial grounds such as this would typically contain treasures of untold value for those who got there first, and with the King out on a trip, a golden opportunity presented itself.

"Relax Dominick, if I find anything of value, I'll split the earning's from selllin' it with you and the rest of the boys."

Slowly, the lone slave driver began to descend into the seemingly endless chasm below. A quarter mile down, he'd finally reached what appeared to be the bottom; a flat, dusty surface, no graves in sight. "Well that's disappointing..." the disgruntled man mumbled as he detached his harness from the rope. Taking a single step forward, the ground softly crackling, light vibrations tickling his feet. With a gasp, he lunged for the rope, but alas, he was too late. The ground beneath him gave way. A rush of stale air; tainted with the lingering stench of death, exploded upward, reverberating through the tunnels leading to the chamber.

Somehow, the slave driver managed to grab onto something as he fell. Nervously, he looked around the newly opened area. Around him, were massive chains, covered in faded, ancient runes. There were thousands of them.

But they were all broken…

Every.

Single

One.

The man screamed as he realized that this was no burial ground...

It was a PRISON.

Above, torches all about the city of Nero began to flicker, not constantly, but every so often. Slowly, an eerie, almost unnatural, yet ever-so-subtle chill crept into the air, the perverse feeling growing stronger with each passing moment….

It was quietly busy on the streets. The darkness kept at bay by the light from high above the city and the flickering flames set around the dark corridors. People found nothing to be amiss and continued about their day. The gates opening to allow the return of the King of Nero. His path was kept guarded by many shadow elites sitting like gargoyles above the buildings that lined the streets.

The smell made all take back their progressing steps into the mouth of the void. None were able to move beyond their sight and guards around the entrance of this secret underground construction were able to sense the presence of something ancient and foul. "We should prepare for the worst." One spoke in confidence. His partner not too wary. "Ancient tombs always have rotted pests that make its walls a home." They both looked towards the entrance they kept at their backs. They were inside a building within Nero's lower domestic homes.

The building merely hid a deep canal. Those within its depths could only hold fast as their senses would be stung with the smell. "Light the fires!" And so they were, dozens of them. Their commander was a tall and slender man who kept a hat on despite his horn piercing through them. His eyes almost glowed in the dark. He lit a cigar. "These chains..." He said. As if eyes broke through the dark. "Something is free now." The other miners looked to him in shock. Their size growing smaller as they edged toward the exit. "If you try to leave those guards are going to guarantee you don't make it out of here. Best keep pressing on.." The torch in his hand waved forward in the lead.

Stepping into the darkness..

A sinister laugh echoed from the darkness as a sudden gust extinguished all fires within the tunnel. A heavy chill swept over all as a deep ethereal voice echoed in the minds of all in the tunnel, ”The likes of you? Free ME? From a prison made from the sacrifice of countless children of Seraph? Laughable!” the voice broke into a disturbingly mad fit of laughter, before turning deathly silent. ”You’ve merely interrupted my nap…. And now…. I’m a bit HUNGRY.”

The souls of every living thing in the tunnel were suddenly ripped from their corporeal forms, and dragged into the abyss. Cold, lifeless shapes littered the floor of the cavern, there was only one survivor. "Blech. Soul qualilty really isn't what it used to be... Tastes dreadful.... ohoho. Is one still alive? It would appear as though I've gotten quite weak over the millennia. No matter. I can easily fix that...." the voice muttered as a giant claw reached for the surviving commander from the depths of the abyss.

The commander's eyes beheld the darkness moving for him, illuminated by the flames of the fallen. He gritted his teeth and reached his right hand inside his left coat. "I'm not one to snack on asshole." He leaped backwards, effortlessly flipping several meters back. Not far enough to be out of reach entirely. But enough to evade what the dragon thought was just another mining slave. "My shadow skills are unmatched..." He began to speak as he was midair. His landing was met with an unnatural crater from his legs hitting the stone ground. "The power of my blow knows no equal!" He placed his hands on the ground and a white aura surrounded him briefly, his hair raising. He then vanished in a blur of light.

Chuckling at the defiant display of such an ant, it was time for the dragon to find some REAL food. Souls of the weak were comparable to stale breadcrumbs. He wanted... No he NEEDED more souls; POWERFUL souls. More importantly, he needed to find his precious little investment. Oh how excited he was to check on its growth!

But food came first.

A colossal roar shook the city; issuing a challenge to those who protect it. Bursting forth from beneath the earth, a dragon the size of a small castle, scattering massive shards of earth, splinters of wood, and other kinds of debris all over the streets of Nero. A twisted, flaming grin formed across the monster's face as it eyed the feast laid out before it.

The Dragon

Debris fell from high above. Near to the halfway point that led to the great ceiling above. Pieces of stone fell on homes and caused immediate injury or worse to the residents below. This being its lower district the poorest members of this city were harmed. Their simple market streets buried in clouds from the hurtling boulders wake of destruction. It was a sight to behold from the upper districts. A dark beast rising from the grave and trampling on their city like it was its play thing. The windows shattered. People screamed in terror as they tried to flee. The gates were soon filled with people trying to escape and the upper districts found their ranks swelling with the low class.

A new conflict had arisen from the depths. Just as the King of Nero was stepping into his chambers, having just arrived from Vrondi he was seldom prepared for an attack. He was soon briefed on what was happening exactly.

"When delving into a tomb found below the city a Dragon was awakened." He was simply told. He scoffed. "That's IT? I suppose it HAS been a while since I've last slain a dragon. Something that brutish king of Fotia would be salivating for by now. I will show him how it's done..." Stepping from his throne and down the fresh red carpet was the King. Soon followed by shadow elites of various origin and of independent caliber, save for when called by the King. Armored from head to toe and wielding his scythe the King stepped into the gaping maw of the gateway of darkness.

Emerging from the embracing tunnel of shadow mist and having it vanish behind him after doing so made the King look like another soldier filing into the ranks of Nero's defenders. He stood before the wreckage and rubble. Beneath the terrible roar of the hungry dragon. In the middle of a line of Nero's guards and soldiers. The Elites at his back and his scythe held in one hand. He held a gentle smile on his lips. His aura combined with his army of at least fifty visible soldiers. More filed into the surrounding area. Evacuating injured and forming a line around the battle field. A gaping hole in the ground disallowing most to go directly beneath the flying behemoth. Yet chains were thrown form the shadows. Over a hundred of them flew to the Dragon, attempting to wrap around its body and pull it down with the other world awaiting on the other side. The chains emerging from the infinite depths of the void each chain thrower conjured, to bind the beast with strength beyond their own.

"Wall it in."

At his command magical barriers of sound and darkness were formed in a box like formation around the damaged lower district. Visible to the naked eye and created from over a hundred soldiers. The remaining ones would run up the chains. Elites leading this charge. Gracefully stepping up the chains like tight ropes with weapons amplified with shadow and poison. As they made their way high above arrows shot from all angles came flying at the Dragon from below. Massive arrows meant to slay their most common foe, Basilisks, now used for general Dragon slaying. Launched from giant crossbows with multiples on each and their tips shining purple from the deep magical poison enchanted onto its surface. Sleeth stood above all of this with his Elites yet to budge. His smile and demeanor remained undaunted. It was clear to him now. He had been wanting something to do beyond politics ever since leaving for Vrondi and this, though distasteful, was a matter far more exhilarating.

"If you serve Nuxta I'll have you tell him how wise it was for him to save the best for last..."

Yes. Good. The little ants were trying so hard to protect themselves. Oh how adorable! In the millenia that had passed, it would seem that the arrogance and zeal of mere cattle had come to know no bounds. From tunnel of shadow mist emerged heavily armed warriors, their souls far stronger than anything else this pitiful excuse for a city had to offer. They looked truly…. DELICIOUS. But let them have their moment, for souls that experience hope, only to have it ripped away in their final moments tasted far better than normal. Over a hundred more troops joined the stronger ants in their ‘assault’. Chains bourne of magic and darkness reached out from the abyss helplessly wrapped around the dragon’s body. Though he could tear through such petty bindings with ease, he allowed them to engulf him as tiny warriors rushed toward his hulking form, followed by a volley of massive arrows…

From the ground, it would seem as if the day had most nearly been won by the efforts of the Neronian troops. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Mere inches from their mark, the entire volley of dragon-slaying arrows was swept away by a spontaneous gust of wind. To the dragon, this was the equivalent of flicking away an insect. A vile sound; horrible enough to make even the bravest of souls soil themselves filled the air. The dragon’s amused laugh echoed throughout the streets, a powerful feeling of dread fell over all who heard it. This wasn’t a fight, it was a GAME; the monster was merely toying with it’s food.

With a violent jerk, nearly seventy of the city’s defenders became pale and lifeless, their very life essence robbed from their bodies. Those who didn’t fall immediately faced another consequence, a crushing pain constricting their chests as they collapsed to the ground, many fainting from the sheer feeling overtaking them. Troops fortunate enough to be furthest from the dragon would feel a slight pressure on their being as they felt a sizable amount of their strength evaporate in response to the dragon’s might. Only Sleeth and his hand-picked elites would remain unaffected, only detecting a trace amount of the otherworldly pressure brushing over them. ”Is that all? I expected something more… SATISFYING. the dragon tauntingly huffed as it looked directly at the King of Nero, a mad grin spreading across it’s terrifying face. Moving slowly forward as if to challenge the elite troops, the beast tore through the chains like wet paper mache, they were clearly inconsequential to this monster.

Could it truly be stopped?

It’s slow approach was accompanied by a sudden, otherworldly cold that invaded the air. The typically temperate city dropping to freezing temperatures. If that wasn’t unsettling enough on it’s own, even more disturbing was that any non-magical temperature reading devices would detect any difference, any form of magical device intended for communication, navigation, or temperature reading would be driven haywire, typically ceasing function altogether. The otherworldly cold seemed to defy all reason, piercing all means of clothing and armor, creeping its way deep into the bones of all that felt it, the only physical sign of the cold’s existence being the foggy breath of the living.

"Tch.."

His royal lips sucked in air and spat as if a vile taste had passed between his prestigious lips which have only graced the meals of the finest chefs Nero had to offer. Indeed a bad taste was more than just bad to a King. It was a symbol of his Kingdom. As he watched with distaste his appointed soldiers remained unmoved around his front. His arms crossed he tapped his foot impatiently. Finally, he raised his hand in a waving gesture. "Disappointing... I will have to see to the training of the new legion.. And have the ones who trained these current weaklings before me be put to rest." He was met with a Nero noble. His royal attire was adorned with what appeared as superfluous flower decorations. Large red and pink roses and ebony skin with glowing yellow eyes. He calmly bowed. "Certainly sire and should I have the families of the fallen be notified?" He asked with a sober smile. Sleeth sighed. "It cannot be avoided..."

Sleeth uncrossed his arms and stepped forward. "Don't disappoint me. I'm going to go have some fun now." Sleeth looked up defiantly at the roaring dragon who so arrogantly tore through his city. Long ago the previous kings and queens of this place had slain Basilisks and beasts of terrible power. Mounting their heads upon the walls of the castle. Sleeth smirked as he thought of the location this dragon's head would be placed. He could sense its souls essence seeped in absolute chaos and vigorous eternity within. Sleeth brought his right hand forward and then waved it to his right. His soldiers vanished into their owns shadows like wells of oil. "Is my weapon ready?" Sleeth asked while watching the Dragon feed on the essence of his soldiers. The man behind him bowed once more before speaking.

"Yes your highness."

As Nero’s mightiest warriors began their assault on the massive beast, they would find that their attacks prompted no response from the monster, at least until Sleeth made his attack. The moment he made his swing, a massive torrent of searing flame and light ravaged the inside of the barrier, it’s sound so incredible, the breaking of the sound barrier was barely audible. Nobu; stealthiest of the elites, had made a grave error that compromised his stealth, foolishly drawing the essence of the beast. Now, a large, draconic hand shot toward the assassin’s back with incredible speed, reaching to claim Nobu’s soul.

The Dragon's Descendant form

"Oi oi.." Muttered the invisible warrior. "I've been caught so easy.." He said with disappointment in his tone. With a narrow avoidance he slipped by the strike coming from behind him. Pieces of his armor breaking and flying as invisible debris. Before they could even land he was already sliding into a ditch formed from all the chaos. Escaping into its shadows like a well of water. His voice echoing as it faded away. "Until next time!" Right before the Dragon lord could pursue and providing a bare distraction as the cocky black dragon knight soared in, his fists cackling with dark energy only known to the chaotic beings that conjure it from the infinite essence of cosmic magic. A warping of a simple theory, the absence of light, now a weapon of chaos. He plunged his two fists at the Dragon lord. "FIGHT ME!!!" He roared. With a sigh, the Dragon Lord ducked under the knight's strike, plunging his fist into the fool's abdomen as he dodged to the side. The hand itself seemed to phase through the knight's very being, tearing out a piece of his very life essence as it retracted from his body, the black armor now sporting a sizable dent. With a grunt of agony the knight was knocked back several meters. But as he was fading out a new shadow approached. The King himself. His scythe was as clear as the air it parted.

A twisted smile formed on the Dragon's face as a blinding explosion of fire and light concealed him from view. In a flash, chaotic energy ripped and tore through the barrier beneath the feet of the Twilight Mage, creating a hole just large enough for a certain hand to fit through. In an instant, a vice grip crushed the Mage's ankle, as he was violently yanked through his own barrier, the poor seraphs life being drained with each passing moment of contact. The mage was taken by surprise. Their feet being wiped from under. The barrier keeping all matters contained was now shattering like glass. However. Vanishing within a concealment of his own cloak Sleeth reemerged before the great arm that held his valuable ally. "Unhand." His scythe swung at the arm.

”Of course little ant, in fact, I was just finished with him.” the Dragon responded as he released the man; who had already begun to look like a husk. Shooting back, the scythe sliced off about half of the Dragon's hand , but the ancient lord wasn't done yet. "How disgraceful, I seem to have gotten slower over the years..... I'm going to grab a quick snack...” he coldly muttered as he looked at his hand in disappointment.

With a burst of flame, the Dragon raced for the upper district.

"Oh not so fast." A cut in reality. A warped gash of darkness formed by one of the knights. His master of the blade clearly being deep in dimensional darkness. The Dragon would be headed towards it. Around the dragon formed a barrier of burning light, taking the shape of a spearhead. Within the construct a pale, blue energy; seething with chaos, built within as the dragon's approach quickened. He flew into the dimension the gash closing fast behind him. He was now in a dimension of darkness. No longer in the city it would seem. The knight held his sheathe triumphantly as the darkness would attempt to rip the dragon apart.

Yet, as the dark dug away at the radiant barrier, the pale glow within only seemed to build as the construct jerked to a stop. With the sound of shattering glass, the barrier gave way; from it burst an explosion of a pale blue flame long forgotten by this world, driving back the darkness. In it's center the dragon chuckled, would his foe come to face him? Eagerly, he scanned the void with his myraid of senses-- souls such as these could do little to hide from the likes of him. The sound of footsteps echoed in the Dragons ears. It sounded far and close. Though he floated aimlessly here the king who stepped before him stood firm. "Who are you?" He asked. Grasping his helmet and lifting it off. Revealing his face. He then dropped it into The void. It began to float. Gravity having no effect here.

With a twisted grin the dragon spoke, ”Your strength is impressive little king..... Very well, you have earned the honor of knowing my identity..... I ̢̣͚̞̰̞̺̹A͍͢M͉̣͎̺̦͜ ̼̠̝Z͇̹̦̘Ẹ͕̞̯̜͢T̥͙̯̯́H͔̞͙̗͘E͎L̴̩̬͙̬O̬̠̦̼͠S,̨̣̹̖͍ ͚̟̙͖̟͔͘ͅD͙̞E̯̠̻V̙͚̺̠͢O̘̠̘̼͙̥͈͢U̟͙̗R͘Ę̭͚͖̘͙͔̹R͖͍̠̺͍͡ ̜̗̗͜O̴̭̦̱͙͎F͇͢ L̞E̻͎̰G̺̲͕̻̹̝̬͢I̹͕̭̯̫̼O̺̣̼̜͚Ṇ̤͔͠S̡,̣͙̳ ҉͈̼̬͇͉G̱̰͈̤͖͞ͅǪ͙̣D̤͉̥͓̙̹ ̪̥̼̬O̫̙͔̗̟̩̭F͉͈ͅ ̹̯͞ŚO̫Ụ͓͚L̫̟͖̩̝͚̗S̺,̹ ̶̮͉F͉͉̹̳̜̫̗Ò̭̟͇̝̗U͇͖ͅR͡Ṱ͍̫̱͚͙H͍̣͇͕̗̟̻́ ̩̗̰̯̯̦̣B̜̗̤͇̕O̼͉R͈̯̬̲͖̕Ǹ̙ ҉̤̪̺̱O͔͙̖̬̦̠F̴͓͔̬͓͈ ̧͔̟̮̯͍T̟̬͕̦H̖͇̦̜̞̝̘E ̖̺̭͓̖G̣͓̤͔̳͡O̶̜͚̳̭̙̣D͚̗͔̭ͅ-̼̗̰̣̱͍K̴̩I͇̙͙̝͞N̷̠͉̖̺̦̦G҉͚͖͖͍͕̰ ̩̥H͉̬̭͈̣̳̀ͅIM̴̺͈͇S̲̟̳̜̙ḘL͉̙̫̰F̢͙͔̮̲̪͙ͅ!” his words; steeped in chaos, seemed to twist the very fabric of reality.

King of Nero Unmasked

Sleeths eyes were emmiting a brilliance kin to the fire in ones soul. Though he resigned himself to the dark. He did not seem to be waned by his foes mass of aura. "The God King? You mean that old Dragon defeated by the so called first seraphim?" He chuckled. "Are you now a lapdog for Nuxta? One of the seraphim's own children?"

"Watch your tongue mortal." Zethelos spat as his eyes glowed with rage, ”Had I not been imprisoned by legions of Seraphim, that battle would have gone VERY differently...... Nuxta is still alive you say? And you think me to be his servant!?!?! How....... LAUGHABLE." the ancient dragon sighed as he began to calm down, even so much as to chuckle at the idea he would submit to anyone.

Within the ominously dead silent infinite void of dark. Where no being or material resides. Zethelos and Sleeth Kaine Mythue, the Monarch of darkness and blood. Having failed an attempt to bring the head of the leader of the Therosi left a sour taste in his mind. That is to say he was itching for a release. Stirred from his crimson bath by his foe he was prepared to destroy a few arrogant followers of Nuxta. But finding his foe to be a unique. Not aligned to any current powers. Within the embrace of the dark, where no others could witness them, he felt open enough to laugh at his fate. To him his foe was a beast, when compared to how the descended civilizations handles themselves today. A relic perfect for the taking. He believed it to be a dragon whose knowledge of who descended of today are and what they can do would be limited. Limited enough even to be... He let out a more recognizable laugh. "Foolish enough to face me. The Pinnacle of my kind." He sighed with relief. Fully confident now he released his aura. A show for the beast to sense. His soul, a ripe juicy meal if it could have it. One that sang with a rivaled capacity of the seraphim of old. The ones responsible for this dragons current endangered status.

For a moment the ancient god froze, almost as if unsure of how to respond to such a brash display...... He could tell that the king was powerful from the first moment they met...... But this..... THIS caught his attention. A deep bellow of a laugh welled up from inside him; not in arrogance, but as if met with a pleasant surprise. "Pinnicle you say? Your aura is strong child, but I have faced many far stronger than you." Zethelos declared as his laugh died down; his attitude becoming much more serious as he went on, "However, that was centuries ago-- and I am far from what I once was.... Nonetheless, I cannot imagine a greater bout to debut my return to this world! COME THEN! IMPRESS ME, AND I MAY JUST LET YOU LIVE!!!" Zethelos roared with zeal; a grand smile across his face.

At this moment; heavily contrast to the aura of Sleeth, the dragon's oppressive energies began to recede, coalescing around the old god's body. Very little of the dragon's might could now be felt by the king of Nero, yet the void surrounding him seemed to begin to warp and shift, as if reality itself was beginning to distort.

"Kings Domain!" He shouted in reply. His spell being released and his aura being felt wash over the infinite void. The distortion of their realm began to hasten. A swirl of shadow spinning around them until it formed into thousands of giant spears, twenty feet long each. Sleeth's eyes glared at Zethelos. A feint glow came from them, a strange focused aura was summoned from them.

Sleeth could make out the vibrations of Zethelos's draconic heartbeat. With his left hand he clasped his fist. Forming through the vibrations was an illusion spell from deep within the dragon. The world around them would be moving in to crush him, which in this darkness would be plausible. But it was a lie. Instead Sleeth prepared his scythe in his right hand while the spears began to be released in a constant barrage towards Zethelos whose blood is under the eyes of the king. His Mythue bloodline was known for their ability to freeze their foes blood in place by merely looking at them. It proved to be the highest of the eye traits for combat in the Nayu bloodlines. One that proved effective when this young king was forced to combat other trained royals and prospects for the title of king of Nero. Sleeth vanished while the barrage was unleashed. He covered himself in darkness, erased his sound, and began to assault Zethelos's hearing with sounds of laughter from all over. It would only be a second until he was on Zethelos to strike.

Though unaware that it was an illusion, the walls of darkness closing in upon him concerned the dragon lord little, the fact that his opponent could freeze his blood however, was quite interesting indeed. However was quite troublesome when paired with the incoming onslaught of dark spears. Slowly, the primal chaos that tightly wrapped Zethelos began to expand, forming a sphere of primal chaos around the ancient dragon. Upon contact, spears would be torn apart by the chaotic energies, leaving the dragon unscathed. Though his blood was frozen, Zethelos began to move, albeit very slowly, not giving away that he was tracking Sleeth's every move. Despite being the 'pinnicle' of his kind, the king of Nero had made a crucial error; he had neglected to conceal both his smell, and the aura of his soul. The ancient god of souls was ready to strike the moment Sleeth came in to strike, it was merely a matter of time.

With sheer essence of power Zethelos fought back as a statue. With his immense chaotic power being thrown everywhere the descendant fighting him could only part it with his blade and with divine darkness. Continuous bombardments of light and destructive concoctions were dashed to pieces and cast aside by the King of shadow. It was the best the Dragon foe could do to escape his blade. Even returning the devoured souls to life to fight in his stead was hardly enough. Only by burning away the realm with a chaotic spell did the dragon realize how wicked the King's essence was. His darkness from within was blacker than what was outside and shielded him from the destruction. But futile was the King's efforts, the dragon's power was immense and attaining a clean blow was actively thwarted. This was a high stakes battle unlike any other. Surely Nuxta was not stronger than this?

Their battle continued until one moment. Blood was sent flying as the tail of the dragon was sent flying into the rendered dimensional void of darkness with ripples of chaotic realms opened and scattered around. Some with fire, some with lighting, all chaotic and created by the dragon. The death of the dragon's attempts to avoid the blade and soon the death of the dragon itself was marked by this success of the king. If not for his efforts in improving his speed as he gradually made more and more attempts he would never had caught the beast's most vulnerable body part. The tail was no more and the curse of the blade began to settle into the Dragon. The soul began to leave the body and in that moment the King relaxed his eyes. In a final desperate move the Dragon was freed and able to deliver a bite to the King's left arm. Ripping it off in one solid crunch.

The King fell back into the darkness. His eyes merely widened at the result of this battle. But he kept his eyes on the Dragon up until it was completely dead. Observing as the soul of the beast began to leave its body, despite having feasted on some of the King's soul from that last bite. However the soul of the beast was full of chaotic aura and engulfed its body in an eternal flame keeping Sleeth from getting closer. He wrapped his wound with a solid shadow, though droplets of blood still floated around him from both him and the Dragon. Sleeth still gripped his scythe, prepared to cut even the dragons soul in two. But before he could two giant black wings covered the dragon's burning body.

Your place is not to die here. You've yet to see what beauty I will bring to this world.

The form of Nuxta lifted up from over the Dragon. Long black hair flowing infinitely in the void. He stood as a giant before Sleeth and the Dragon. But non threatening. As if he were only observing.

"Here I thought this had nothing to do with you. No matter." The King, though injured, prepared to cut down both Nuxta and the Dragon.

Your place is to serve the ones you descend from.

With a lifted hand Sleeth was blown back. He was hurtled back to his Kingdom falling from first the abyss and then plummeting from the air above.