In the Hells, there was a battle brewing, a very common sight, even more common among the Wrath and Chaos factions. Fiends were creatures of violence, fighting was the very air they breathed, and as the most plentiful of Demon races, it meant that battles and wars were a constant, the skies dyed red with blood and smoke.
On the wide stretch of the Red Plains, the Wrath faction set their camp to the south, thousands of tents scattered on the grassy plains as they readied themselves to fight the enemy camped north of the Red Plains.
At the entrance to a large tent bearing the symbols of nobility, a Fiend of the Wrath faction stood anxiously, waiting for a response from within. His red-hued skin matched his eyes, large wings trailing down behind him.
"Lord Kath'tan," He saluted when another Demon stepped out of the tent. He was towering, his skin a much darker red.
The addressed Demon swept deep purple eyes over him, "Save it, Erkan." He cut him off before his subordinate could speak.
"But my lord," Captain Erkan dropped down to one knee. "The Chaos faction has double our numbers. This is a death march."
Kath'tan's lips were stretched into a grim line, filling in the unspoken words himself. As the bastard son of his father, his lack of manpower was deliberate. His father no doubt hoped that this war would claim his life and get rid of the unsightly stain that plagued him.
But Kath'tan hadn't stayed alive this long clamoring for fairness. He would win this battle and finally prove his worth to his father.
"If any of the men are frightened, they're welcome to march back to the city." He said calmly, uncaring even. "I will lead the charge into battle. And I will win."
It wasn't a declaration, it was a statement of fact, one that Erkan found himself being swayed by. He knew that none of the men would agree to return; dying in battle was an honor as a Fiend.
Lord Kath'tan returned to his tent without waiting to hear another word from him, the horns of war cutting through the acrid air.
Erkan had no choice but to step away to mobilize the men for battle, his broadsword sheathed by his side. Even though he had been swayed by Lord Kath'tan's words, he still knew that death was inevitable, for all of them. But perhaps they could accomplish total annihilation, if they managed to take down every Chaos faction Demon with them, then it could be called a victory, even in death.
Lord Kath'tan was true to his words, his towering physique visible even from the back ranks, signature maul in a single hand. He stood in front, Erkan right beside him, and their measly number of five thousand soldiers lined up even further behind them.
Across the flat plains, they could see the Chaos faction also ready for battle, their sheer numbers raising red dust to the cruel skies.
Erkan faltered at the sight of them, there had been a grave miscalculation on the part of the scouts. Their opponents weren't merely double their numbers but possibly triple or more- it was madness.
"My lord-" He immediately tried to intervene; it still wasn't too late to retreat. They would not be faulted for doing so, as marching into battle when they were so gravely outnumbered was foolhardy.
"Another word out of you and you'll be the first to whet my hammer's appetite," Kath'tan cut him off, his deep purple eyes feverishly bright as he glared across the distance at their enemies.
Captain Erkan wisely swallowed the rest of his words; they had all been given the freedom to retreat, and it wasn't like his life was on the line if this son of the Grand Duke was massacred on the front lines. He gave up on him then and turned to face the men; if Lord Kath'tan remained obstinate on marching to his death, he would do his part in offering the choice to retreat to the men.
Kath'tan didn't look back even though he could hear the Captain essentially urging the men to turn around and retreat. He took the first step forward, then another, and another, and soon he was a streak of red and black, charging through the plains, his warcry causing tremors to shake the ground.
He jumped into the skies, black wings like an eclipse, maul raised high with both hands, and then he slammed into the ranks of the Chaos faction, Demons getting thrown back in a wide circle. The few who were unlucky enough to take the full impact of his weapon were squashed to paste on the grassy plain.
Erkan's words were cut short by this display, disbelief in his eyes. Lord Kath'tan's reckless display fired up the men; no longer listening to him, they charged across the plains, madness in their eyes as they crashed into battle.
With a heavy sigh, he pulled out his broadsword, standing in the middle of the chaos as soldiers ran past him, some taking to the skies. He did the same, flying faster than most to get to the thick of the battle.
On the other side of the battle, the Chaos faction returned the favor, equally charging into battle, their distinctive purple hues standing out amidst the sea of red Fiends and plains.
In the middle of the frenzy, a lone black figure stood unwavering. The battle roiled around him like tides while he remained standing, hooded eyes fixed on the center of the battle.
Kath'tan was a force of nature; no one could come within a few feet of him, bodies piling around him. The lucky were dismembered, and the unlucky were nothing but an outline on the ground.
Despite the strange, impenetrable darkness that seemed to surround the black figure, his dangerous grin could be seen, sharp white teeth cutting through the darkness as a shadowy bow and arrow took shape in his hands.
The bow was stretched taut, aimed at Kath'tan's heart. It would pierce through, and before the noble Wrath Demon could realize what had happened, he would be overwhelmed and torn to pieces by the enemies he had once kept at bay.
Just as the arrow was about to fly, a blinding light cut through the raging battle, momentarily blinding all who looked upon it. The light seemed to encircle Kath'tan, sigils appearing on the ground. The brightness lasted only a moment before it was extinguished, leaving nothing behind but a bloodied hammer and a pile of bleeding bodies.