"With your power, third one, it would be good to put you in a family where the appearance of abilities would not cause any inconvenient questions for you," said the creature with tentacles on its face, holding a soul pulsating with yellow light in its hand.
"Father, what world do you want to send me to?" it heard itself say.
"Huh?" The one called Father finally came to his senses. "You know this world, you received knowledge about it along with your brothers. It is a world of demons, dragons, and angels.
"Isn't the main character a pervert with a dragon in his hand?" moaned the soul, sensing trouble.
"Exactly. I will send you to...," Father drawled, "you will be in Barakiel's family. He uses holy lightning, and the appearance of a similar power in you will not raise any questions.
"You gave me the power of Gwyn's firstborn, but you didn't give me his reserves. And almost all of his spells use at least five of my current reserves," grumbled the soul. "Will there be a dragon? Where would the Nameless King be without a dragon?"
"You want too much," snorted the great one. "Find one yourself, tame it, and you'll have your dragon. Now get out of here."
The one named Father instilled the soul of his son into a baby who died in the womb, who was to become one of the twins born from the union of the fallen angel Barakiel and the temple priestess Shuri Himedzima.
"Try to live at least until you are fifteen, for the core of your soul must be formed in order for you to be reborn." The voice of the great one was cold, but the third son sensed a hint of concern in it.
"I will try, Father." These were the last words the soul uttered before falling into a slumber that would last until its birth.
Two months later.
"Darling, you can do it. Just a little longer," whispered the fallen angel to his beloved.
The woman's cries were muffled by the barrier her husband had erected to protect her from unexpected attacks.
"Almost, dear, just a little more," Barakiel wiped his wife's forehead with a damp towel.
The labour had been going on for more than five hours, and the woman was on the verge of losing consciousness. She was sustained only by her personal magic and her husband's powers of light. But after a few minutes, it was over.
The man wiped his children with a warm, damp towel and, wrapping them as best he could, handed them to his wife.
"How beautiful," whispered Shuri, "What shall we name our son?
The man thought for a moment and after a few minutes of contemplation, he said: "Virgil!"
The woman could only raise an eyebrow in silent question.
"I like that name. Barakiel turned away from his giggling wife and decided to change the subject. "What will you name your daughter?"
"Akeno," she said tenderly, looking at the sleeping girl and stroking her head.
"It suits her." The man nodded importantly, earning himself a nudge in the side. "All right, get some rest. I'll bring something to eat."
"I hope you don't destroy the kitchen like last time?"
"That was just once!" the man shouted quietly, "Are you going to remind me of that for the rest of my life?
"Yes," the woman nodded contentedly and, settling down more comfortably, closed her eyes.
"I've got myself into this," muttered the man, retreating into the hallway.
*****
Infancy. What a word. But I liked that time when there were no worries. You eat, sleep and sometimes stay awake. Beauty. Although I was a quiet child, according to my parents, I sometimes yelled along with my sister, just for the sake of it.
Shuri, that woman, may have become a real mother to me. The tenderness and emotions she showered on us were genuine; she enveloped us in them like a cocoon that could protect us from anything.
Beautiful, with black hair and purple eyes. I understand Barakiel, who fell for her. Akeno, who inherited her beauty, looked like a little ball of fluff at the age of five, threatening to turn into a heartbreaker in her teenage years.
This little know-it-all, who had just learned to speak, bombarded everyone with questions, sometimes stumping even an old-timer like our dad.
He was a normal man, with his own quirks, but he never raised a hand to his wife, even during an argument. His perpetually dissatisfied expressions, which he made after his wife's latest dig, were priceless. Sometimes he would disappear for a week at most, but even then, he often communicated with us through the Rune communication circle, always wanting to be aware of all events.
In short, we had a normal family. A little unusual, but mostly normal.
Everything was fine until one day, in a fit of rage (the damn cookie jar was too far from my greedy hands), I activated the holy lightning ability of the nameless god. I summoned a small storm that knocked the jar onto the floor. As they say, "Oops," but what's done is done. After that, my father began to train me to control the Holy Lightning. That's what he called it, and he said it was his ability, passed down to his descendants, and that it had been given to him by the very God who created this world. I didn't try to convince him otherwise, so Barakiel threw himself into physical training and meditation to develop his reserves.
The essence of their training was simple to the point of absurdity. First, you stoke the core, generating more magic than you had before, pumping out energy regeneration, and then you try to push more into your reserves than you currently have. Little by little, you stretch the limits of what is possible. It's painful and unpleasant, but it works and doesn't even damage your energy. That is, if you don't overdo it. I was told a story about an angel who, in the heat of battle, heated up his core so much that it literally burst into flames and spewed out so much energy that even Lucifer was amazed. But the price was terrible. The angel's soul was practically destroyed and reworked by his own core. God, of course, patched up the poor thing, but his soul could not recover completely and went to be reborn. There is, of course, a plus side to this: his magical core and reserve merged with his soul and now there is no way to separate them. A complete cleansing is needed, but there is simply not enough time for that; such a strong soul will quickly be reborn.
Impressed, I decided not to rush things and to develop the reserve systematically. And I put Akeno to work so that neither she nor I would be bored. This fidget couldn't sit still in meditation for long, constantly "waking up" and tugging at me. But finding no response, she fell asleep on my lap.
And so the years passed, and I spent seven years at this pace, until I was eleven. Training, development, development and more development. I needed strength to stand up to those who wanted to take my family away from me. I would not give up my mother or sister to anyone, and my father could take care of himself. But the peaceful days did not last long. My sister and I will remember our birthday for a long time, because on that day, some disabled people decided to attack us. They planned everything so that our father wouldn't be around.
*****
"Virgil, Akeno, hide under the floor!" said our breathless mother, pushing aside the boards and shoving us into the gap that had formed.
"Mum, what's going on?!" my sister panicked, on the verge of hysterics.
"It's okay, everything will be fine, Mum will take care of everything," whispered Shuri, hugging us. "Hide quickly."
I remained silent, gathering as much energy as I could, squeezing it and somehow forcing it into my body. My hand held my sister's tightly, who was hugging me and trembling, her head buried in my collarbone. She wasn't crying, but she was close to it.
"Hush, hush," I stroked her head. "Everything will be fine. Father is already on his way here, soon it will all be over and we will sit down together and have some tea. You'll make us some tea, won't you? Your favourite..." I whispered various nonsense in her ear to distract her from her bad thoughts. It seemed to work, she stopped trembling.
"Will you help Mummy?" Akeno looked up at me with her bright purple eyes. "You're strong. Help her."
"I will, I will." I stroked her head.
My mother, who had stayed in the room above us, prepared a bunch of protective spells and traps to stop the attackers. But it didn't help; the demons came along with the people.
"Shuri Himedzima," the demonic bastard said in a mannered voice, "I am Wolf Focalor. And you will come with us. We need you." He finished arrogantly.
"We agreed to kill her. That traitor and whore deserves it!" shouted one of the men. "She betrayed the clan by leaving with an angel. Death is her reward."
He was about to carry out his threat, but the demon's flames turned him to ash.
"What are you doing?!" the other people shouted. "You've crossed the line! The deal is off."
The demon merely sighed, and his retinue began methodically slaughtering all the people. When they were done, he turned to Shuri.
"As I said, you will come with us. And after that, Barakiel's actions will give us free rein, and the factions of the new rulers will have no choice but to start a new war!" Is he crazy?
What new war, a handful of survivors against a handful of survivors? Seriously? There are hardly any survivors left, and you want even more deaths? You're insane.
"Tie her up.
"Can we," another demon swallowed, "have a little fun with her first?"
"Hmm, we need her alive, so control yourself.
"As you wish," the demon grinned and headed towards the mother.
Are you all fucking crazy over there?!
Anger overpowered logic, and I lost control of my actions. The air smelled of ozone, and clouds began to gather in the sky. All the magic I had accumulated was now flowing out of me, and yellow lightning bolts ran through my body. Akeno, who saw my transformation, trembled and clutched my body in her arms.
"Don't worry," I stroked her head, "It will all be over soon.
The power of these demons is not great, and if I don't die from the core burning up first, they're dead.
The lightning destroyed the floor we were hiding under, and I let go of my sister and flew up, surrounded by storm winds. I flew up to my mother and blew her down to my sister. There was no time for tenderness now. They were safe under the house, but for now...
"What is this? He has a son?! Yes, that's even better. Grab him.
Several low-ranking demons from Focalor's retinue ran at me and were immediately killed by the Sun Spears that were sent at them. It consumed a lot of my magic, but two-thirds of the attackers were killed instantly.
"Never mind, kill him," Focalor growled. "You will answer for the deaths of my men.The anger that raged within me refused to subside, and obeying my instincts, I stretched out my hand and said.
"Come, Spear of the Dragon Slayer!" A weapon materialised in my hand, created from the soul of the nameless king, the firstborn of Gwyn, god of war, lord of lightning and light, the great dragon tamer. Forgotten and erased from history, he remained true to his word and became the guardian of the Dragon Sanctuary. My father imprinted it on my soul and said that it would grow stronger with me. And with every soul it consumed, I would become stronger.
"You will find only death here," I hissed like a snake, my eyes pulsing with light.
With a jerk, my spear-sword pierced the demon's body, pulling out its soul and hiding it inside me. Another jerk, and another demon died. My muscles tore from the strain, my bones broke, and I was held up only by the magic that fed my body and kept it from dying. The light, with which I was one thanks to the Abyss, gave me strength. The core would soon cross the point of no return if I continued and did not turn off the boost. But I should have enough time. Fortunately, this demon was weak.
"You worthless piece of trash!" Focalor rushes at me, forgetting his strategy in his rage, and pays for it by running into my weapon, which rips his soul out.
I surveyed the area; no one was left alive. Strange, now I can sleep. I fell, losing consciousness, straight onto the arms of my mother, who had arrived just in time and was casting one healing spell after another with tears in her eyes.
"Shuri! Akeno! Vergil!" — and here comes my dad. The barrier preventing him from teleporting was destroyed along with the demon. "His core is damaged!" Damn, damn, why, why did you do that! Rrr," the fallen began to form one rune circle after another, but all in vain. "Azazel!" he roared, summoning his brother.
He appeared a dozen seconds later, ready for battle, but seeing the situation, he quickly ran over and began to examine it.
"I'm taking him to Grigori. Don't argue, he can't be helped here. I'll teleport now, and you, along with your family, later, when you've finished packing," he looked back, "what's left, that is. You can't help anyway, but at least you'll have time to get ready." And he disappeared into the teleportation circle without waiting for an answer.
"Mum, Dad? Will my brother be okay?" Akeno asked with tears in her eyes.
"Yes, sweetheart, everything will be fine," the fallen man said, gathering his family into his arms. "Let's gather what's left and move to the institute. They'll take us in. And after that... I'll take care of these..." He kicked the body. "They crossed the line, your clan summoned demons, this cannot go unanswered."
"I understand," the woman nodded, "do what you must.
"They will die. No one will touch my family," the man growled, hugging his daughter.
"What about the demons?
"We can't do anything to them yet. But later, after we're ready, they'll pay. The man shook his head in denial. But inside, he was devising a plan to destroy the Focalor family. "I'll scatter their ashes to the wind, I won't spare anyone. No women, no children." He said the last words in his head, not wanting his daughter to hear.
He would avenge his son for what he had to go through.
***
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