Betrayed by Heaven, I Became The Demon Lord
Chapter 11: The Crimson Oath
A palpable unease filled the air, and it seemed as if the very heavens themselves were trembling in response to the chaotic battle that raged below them. Their celestial voices echoed ominously, reverberating across the expanse of the battlefield, a stark contrast to the clamor of war.
As I was unceremoniously hurled back by an unseen force, the very fabric of light fractured violently, casting splinters of brilliance that scattered like stars in a shattered sky before me. The divine power of the Creator bore down upon me with relentless fury, penetrating my armor as if it were mere parchment, crumpling under the weight of celestial righteousness. A tempest of radiance descended, overwhelming my senses as though I were drowning in an ocean of pure, searing fire.
My knees buckled, crashing into the scorched earth with a sound that seemed to echo the very lamentations of the abyss. The ground beneath me fractured, cracks spiderwebbing outwards as my hands trembled in response to the pain that pulsed through me. The infernal blade I had wielded for what felt like an eternity began to splinter in my grasp, reflecting the tragic disintegration of my own resolve.
Every laborious breath I struggled to take felt as though I were gasping for air while submerged in molten gold.
"So this is the rebellion you've built…" The voice of the Creator resonated above me with an unearthly calm eerily serene yet undeniably terrifying. There was no hatred or anger in his words, only a palpable sense of disappointment, as if he were a deity scolding a wayward child for some grievous misstep.
"You stand against the blueprint of perfection, and yet all you have accomplished is to prove why imperfection must be eradicated." His words were heavy, laden with the weight of centuries of divine judgment.
In the blinding light, his form loomed above me a shifting amalgamation of brilliance and shadow. His vast wings extended beyond the horizon, each feather glistening with the light of a thousand galaxies. His eyes held unfathomable depths, and every step he took burned trails of divine essence into existence beneath his feet. I could barely withstand the force of his gaze without my vision blurring into a cascade of white static, the brightness threatening to consume my very soul.
"I am not your creation," I managed to growl through clenched teeth, a desperate defiance surging within me as I pressed against the crushing weight of his celestial presence. "I am what your so-called perfection has chosen to abandon."
I barely had time to register the flash of light that surged forward like an arrow loosed from a bow when his hand pierced through my chest, a motion so swift it bypassed my very comprehension.
In that moment, the world around me fell silent.
An agonizing wave of pain, pure and absolute, ripped through my being as if I were being torn apart at the seams. My demonic essence recoiled instinctively, my veins igniting with celestial fire that radiated outward like a wildfire. The infernal blade slipped from my fingers, collapsing into a mass of embers that flickered out against the brightness surrounding us. The Creator leaned closer, a strange look of pity mixed with disdain in his gaze as he whispered, speaking words that were both a condemnation and an invocation.
"You were never meant to exist. It is time for you to return to the void that bore you."
In that crushing moment, I felt every ounce of hope fading, and for the first time in centuries… I screamed.
The light engulfed everything. The battlefield that had witnessed the rise and fall of countless warriors, the dark Abyss that had cradled my sins, even the very essence of my soul began to unravel within the tempest of divine judgment. I could feel it oblivion tugging at the fraying edges of my existence, threatening to unravel all I had fought so fiercely to become. It was as if the ground beneath me ceased to exist, and my knees buckled to the earth, overwhelmed by despair.
And then
An unexpected voice pierced through the cacophony of thunder that roared down from the heavens.
"Get your hands off him."
A streak of vibrant crimson tore through the radiance of the Creator's divine manifestation. His assault faltered for an instant, but it was all the time we needed, as a figure descended between us like a shooting star, crashing down onto the battlefield with unparalleled ferocity.
It was Lyris.
Her wings burned with an ethereal glow reminiscent of dying stars one wing in tatters, while the other blazed with a fierce crimson fire. Her armor lay in ruins, battered and cracked, yet her spirit shone brighter than any celestial entity. There was determination blazing in her eyes, an indomitable light that even the Creator's brilliance could not extinguish.
"Lyris…?" My voice wavered, disbelief and relief colliding violently within my chest.
She turned her head slightly towards me, blood trickling down her forehead, yet a defiant smirk danced upon her lips despite the wounds she bore. "You didn't think you'd face Him alone, did you?"
The Creator regarded her presence not with fury, but with a piercing curiosity, his brow furrowed in a mixture of disdain and fascination. "A fallen seraph defending the heretic who defied Heaven? Pathetic."
With a fierce flick of her wrist, she spat blood onto the ground, her voice sharp and unwavering as it pierced the thickened air like a blade. "Maybe. But I would rather stand here defeated and pathetic… than ever bow to perfection."
And then she moved.
A crimson spear materialized from the very essence of her will, spinning gracefully in her grip as she surged forward like a tempest unleashed. The Creator's hand shot up, light flaring in response, but my instincts ignited quicker than thought, the power of my demonic aura surging to life as it enveloped her spear in a fiery cauldron of black flame.
Two distinct wills. Two flames entwined. One was infernal in nature, born from the depths of the darkest Abyss, while the other blazed with divine fire a testament to rebellion and defiance.
"Together then," I declared, my heart thrumming in rhythm with the tumultuous energy that hung in the air.
"Always," she affirmed fiercely, her eyes sparkling with determination.
The battlefield erupted into a storm of unparalleled intensity.
Our combined powers unleashed a torrent of raw energy that surged across creation, a blend of crimson and gold intertwining as it ripped through the very heavens themselves. Each strike we exchanged shattered constellations, every parry resonated through the threads of time, a testament to our shared resolve. The Creator's calm mask finally cracked, giving way to the fury that lurked beneath his divine façade as he raised his hand, and the sky itself split open, the raw fabric of reality trembling beneath his overwhelming will.
"You dare to wield the Creator's fire against me? This is nothing short of blasphemy!" His voice roared above the chaos, more furious than I had ever seen him.
"Then let it burn!" I cried out, every ounce of defiance and rage pouring into those words.
In that moment, our powers collided Heaven's blinding brilliance clashed fiercely against the Abyss's searing rage. The cries of Lyris and my voice wove together into a battle cry that echoed through eternity, a defiance that dwarfed the fears of both heaven and hell as the light exploded around us, consuming everything in an unrelenting wave.
And then, in the eye of that tempest, there was suddenly… silence.
The light around us began to diminish, gently fading into an encroaching darkness that felt almost tangible. The Creator, once a figure of dazzling brilliance and authority, staggered as if he were a towering monument besieged by the relentless forces of decay. His pristine form, once the embodiment of divine perfection, now flickered ominously, reminiscent of a dying star in its last moments. Cracks of inky darkness snaked across his radiant exterior, the remnants of his former glory shredding away before our very eyes. When he turned his gaze toward us, there was no anger behind those dimming eyes, but rather an emotion infinitely more chilling.
He smiled a slow, deliberate curl of his lips that seemed to mock us in our moment of fragile triumph.
"You think this fleeting victory means anything?" His voice reverberated through the void with uncanny strength, layered and complex an echo that wrapped around us like shadows, as if multiple voices whispered within each syllable, merging to create a haunting symphony of dread.
"You truly believe I am the Creator?" he continued, his tone laced with an unsettling mix of condescension and sorrow.
Lyris, caught off guard, froze in place, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. "…What?"
As we watched in horror, the once-majestic figure began to crumble, his form disintegrating like ancient stone weathered by relentless storms. Pieces of divine light fell away from him, cascading into the emptiness as if he were shedding his essence like dying stars releasing their last gasps of light.
"I am but the weakest among them," he intoned softly, his voice now almost mournful, resonating with an echo of regret. "A mere shadow cast by something far greater than myself."
A palpable tremor rippled through the air, coursing through our bodies and igniting a primal fear deep within. Above us, the rift a tear in the very fabric of reality began to morph, not simply closing, but expanding grotesquely. Through its yawning depths, shapes began to shift and move, dark silhouettes vast and terrible. They loomed like stirring titans, dozens no, hundreds of presences that transcended the boundaries of godhood itself, a dissonant chorus of power that dwarfed everything we thought we understood.
Lyris's voice wavered as she struggled against the horror that loomed before us. "What… are they?"
In that moment, the fading Creator's gaze shifted back to me, locking on with an intensity that pierced through the gathering gloom. His eyes once vibrant and alive now bore a weight of helplessness and dread.
"They are the True Ones," he exclaimed, the finality of his words laden with both reverence and terror. "The Architects of all that is and ever will be. And they are coming."
With that ominous declaration hanging between us, his form shattered completely, cascading into radiant dust which was swept away by the tempest that roared around us. The brilliance of his essence flickered out, leaving nothing but an oppressive silence in its wake.
The world plunged into stillness, as if time itself had paused in awe of what had just transpired.
I felt the sudden drain of energy coursing through me, and I fell to one knee, blood seeping from my lips, exhaustion clawing through every nerve ending like a wildfire. Beside me, Lyris crumpled in exhaustion, gasping for breath as she gripped the edge of my tattered cloak, her fingers trembling but fierce.
She managed a faint smile through the pain etched across her features. "Guess… we won," she uttered weakly, the words both a question and a reassurance.
I shifted my gaze upward to the rift that continued to widen, dark silhouettes stirring ominously beyond its edge, their eyes seemingly fixated on us with a predatory interest. "No," I murmured, a chill creeping into my bones. "We survived."
With a faint chuckle that mingled with her labored breaths, she replied, "Then let's keep doing that."
Turning to meet her weary eyes, I felt an unfamiliar flutter deep within me, a glimmer of something I hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. Hope. Odd and fragile, yet radiating a warmth that contrasted starkly with the cold dread surrounding us.
As the sky above shattered with forensic streaks of crimson light, the very world trembled beneath the weight of what was to come. Yet, as long as Lyris stood beside me, I realized with clarity that the war we had fought was far from over it had only just begun.
To be continued...