The King, The Queen, The Human (2).

Next chapter tomorrow at the same time.

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori

[...]---[...]

I focused on Salem and only on Salem. Not because of the woman's power, the waves of mana spilling from her like a furious sea, or the miasma of pure destruction that seemed to course through her veins. No, I focused on Salem because she was chained.

Dozens of small chains, invisible to almost everyone but not to me — not to the [Divine Anathema], not to the [Echo Humanitatis] — bound the witch. They were small, ethereal golden chains made of light. One held her left shoulder, another her right; a bit lower, one coiled around her wrist, wrapping around her fingers, and another was around her neck, cascading down her back like her long white hair.

Each chain ended where another seemed to begin, sometimes splitting into two, other times intertwining to form one slightly larger. But all, without exception, pierced her ‘body’ at the end, not tearing the flesh, but penetrating and binding her soul…

If Ozma had an immortal soul, unchanging, cursed to wander from body to body forever, Salem was the opposite: an immortal body, with her soul forcibly chained to it, not allowed any rest until the world stopped spinning, shackled to the very existence of the planet itself… Ironic.

… No longer a girl, but still chained, even if no longer to a mere tower.

“You took your time. It’s rude to keep an important guest waiting.” These were Salem’s first words.

Her voice was different from what I expected; it sounded normal, like that of a mature woman, though it carried a regal tone and her words felt somewhat archaic. She did not rise, nor did any of her minions; they all remained silent while the Queen spoke.

I averted my gaze for the first time from her soul to the surroundings and everyone, including, now, Salem's body. The Grimm who were the focus of my gaze shrank back like wilted flowers. None of them growled or grunted; the only noise was the rain, the wind, and the thunder.

None of them, be it Cinder, Hazel, Emerald, or Mercury, met my gaze. They all had something in common, aside from their elegant, old-fashioned attire, resembling something out of a period ball: they all looked down in silence, barely breathing.

Of all of them, Salem was the only one who met my gaze head-on, just as she was the best dressed.

I analyzed her, just as she seemed to be doing with me.

The Queen wore a long, elegant black dress that gradually changed in tone until it became a deep scarlet. The dress was strapless, though it had a collar, leaving the front open and exposing part of her cleavage, which was not small. She wore long black gloves that reached just above her elbows.

Around her neck was a ruby necklace, its gems a deep red that almost appeared black, contrasting even more with her abnormally pale skin. The adornment matched not only the obsidian jewel, shaped like a diamond, on her forehead, but also the few black veins that existed beneath her skin, like the core of a mural.

Her hair was styled back, with part of it cascading like a white waterfall down to the end of her back, while the other half covered the front of her shoulders. From what I could feel with the VoidBag, she was wearing high heels.

Something that surprised me was that she was wearing makeup; it was light, a subtle contour of dark red around her eyes, which were completely black with red pupils, and lipstick of the same color.

I had to admit: Salem was beautiful, stunning, in fact…

… A pity that the sensations I felt from her were the exact opposite.

The pure hatred for everything around her seemed to emanate from the miasma within her; her mana was cold and carried resentment and contempt. Her feelings were the worst, bitter in every way possible, from beginning to end, no matter which.

Salem was beautiful on the outside, but not on the inside… At least, not anymore.

The Queen held my gaze for a moment, staring at me without blinking — red meeting orange. I don’t know what she saw inside me, but it was enough for her emotions to shift into respect and surprise before being drowned by the sea of negativity within her.

“I apologize for the delay; your arrival was earlier than expected.” Ozma took the reins and responded, pulling his eyes from the witch to me. He gestured toward our side of the table. “But I think I can say something similar. I don’t see our seats at the table.”

The table that Salem had created was made of a black stone that emanated negative emotions, just like the Grimm surrounding us. The table was rectangular, resembling a royal dining table, smooth and devoid of embellishments.

Salem was seated at the opposite end from us, in the center, alone, like a hostess, on a high black throne adorned with red veins that ripped through the stone, while Hazel and Cinder sat, in that order, on Salem’s right, and Emerald and Mercury sat to her left.

There were no chairs on our side; furthermore, if I hadn’t prevented the rain from falling on us, we would have been soaked. Salem’s magic only protected herself and her minions.

“My invitation was not formal, and yet you expect me to provide your accommodations?” Salem rested her elbow on the arm of her throne and supported her chin on her hand. “You were more of a gentleman, Ozma. Your current manners leave much to be desired.”

I remained silent; Ozma handled Salem far better than I ever could. He hummed, as if deliberating something, before nodding and saying, “You are correct. But your invitation was not my doing, keep that in mind.” He turned to me.

“My friend, could you arrange our seats?” He looked away, surveying the surroundings. “Those chairs we used that day will do. One next to the other.”

I had to restrain myself from laughing and snapped my fingers, making the same two white bar chairs appear, positioned in front of the table. Salem was already familiar with my inventory, or she should be, even if she didn’t know its true extent; I had used it several times in public, including when I killed Tyrian. It wouldn’t hurt to use it here.

Ozma sat in the left chair, and I in the right. It seemed almost like a joke: a black stone table, regal, with Salem sitting on a throne, while Ozma and I were on two white plastic chairs.

Curiously, Salem appeared to find the situation amusing, rather than irritating. It was quick, and she didn’t show it on her face, but her emotions didn’t lie.

“I see your sense of humor remains the same, Ozma.” The Queen stared at the man before shifting her eyes to me, still resting her face on her hand. “I also see that it is shared by another. Do you not intend to introduce yourself?”

“I didn’t think it necessary, given the circumstances that led to this situation.” I intertwined my ten fingers and rested my chin on my hand while looking at Salem. “But, for all time, I call myself Devas. I would say it’s an honor to meet you, but I would be lying.”

All four of Salem’s companions experienced a spike of fear and disbelief as soon as I finished speaking. At the same time, a pressure fell upon me, Salem’s mana. It wasn’t a spell or something elaborate; she had simply thrown all her metaphysical ‘weight’ onto me…

“Oh?…” A slightly impressed sound escaped the Queen’s slightly parted lips.

… I didn’t even change my expression. I kept looking at her with a soft gaze.

I could calmly admit that Salem had overwhelming mana; throwing it at others as intimidation would work on practically everyone on the planet, except Ozma. But, to be honest… her mana didn’t even compare to Alalia’s.

The Dryad scared me just by existing, even more so after I had other beings to compare her to. Salem’s mana could be a little unsettling, but she would have to try harder if she wanted to intimidate me.

"The same sense of humor, courage, and confidence. Not only that, but his confidence is well-founded... Even his appearance feels slightly familiar." Salem straightened in her throne and partially mimicked my actions, placing one palm over the other without intertwining her fingers, resting her chin on her hands.

"Tell me, Ozma, is Devas some kind of clone or your child, created with the help of Atlas in a lab?"

… What the hell?! Is it because of age? Dementia?

The emotions leaking from Ozma were as surprised as mine, but he disguised it better than I did, keeping his face impassive as he replied. I had to hide my disbelief with a cough, which I’m sure Salem noticed, even if she didn’t react or comment.

"I don’t see why I should answer that." He leaned his cane against the chair and placed both hands on the table, one over the other. "Of course, I can do so if you give me a reason."

"The army at my back isn’t reason enough?" Salem replied, not directing her mana at Ozma but keeping the pressure on me.

Ozma and I almost simultaneously looked at the army of Grimm behind Salem. The Grimm remained motionless as my gaze fell upon them, doing their best to look like statues.

"I still don’t see why I should answer."

The Queen looked at the Grimm for a moment before turning her gaze back to Ozma and falling silent, merely staring at him.

"A question for a question." He repeated the exact same phrase he had used when I arrived in Remnant. "If you want answers, you’ll have to provide answers."

"A game? You’ve always had a fondness for them." Salem finally spoke. This time, she even smiled slightly. With that same smile, she threatened, "What’s to stop me from tearing the answers from both of you after my army devastates Vale?"

I swear I was only a little tempted to respond.

"Nothing, but we wouldn’t be sitting here if you didn’t want to talk." Ozma shrugged. "You decide, Salem. Do we continue this pleasant conversation, or do we start this show once and for all?"

He gestured to the side with his left hand, while the right hovered over the handle of his cane. I ignored the tension from the other four beside Salem and prepared myself, my senses sharpening, focused solely on her. I would have preferred more time to study the divinity within her soul, but it was fine.

… How many kilometers can I make her fly with just one kick?

None, at least for now. Salem hadn’t decided to attack us; on the contrary, the pressure she had on me disappeared.

"... You’re right; I’m curious about a few things, about someone. I prefer to have my questions answered before we, as you said, begin this spectacle." She stared at me before leaning back in her throne, returning to the same position as before, resting her elbow on the armrest and placing her hand on her cheek.

"Very well, I’ll play your game. Tell me the rules, Ozma."

Ozma looked at Salem for a full second before relaxing and leaning his hands back on the table. "One question for one question. No lying, you can skip a question, but you will be obliged to answer the next."

He repeated the same words I had said to him.

"And what prevents us from lying?" Salem asked, just as Ozma had back then.

"Besides pride?" Their responses diverged. Ozma waved his hand around. "Nothing, but in the situation we find ourselves in, there really is no reason."

"... Very well. Who will start this game then?"

[…]

POV: Ozma.

"You said before that my current manners leave much to be desired. That offended me a little." Not even a little. Nothing. Salem knew this and raised an eyebrow. I ignored it and continued speaking. "So go ahead; you’re the guest, after all."

"I won’t spare words then." She shifted her bloody gaze to Devas. "What are you, Devas? No man should possess as much magic as you, at least in this era. Unless you’re a woman..."

Devas snorted, amused. "I didn’t know I was participating in the game too."

"I see no reason why not."

"The four at your side." Devas pointed to each of them. "Are they in too?"

"If you wish to waste a question on them, feel free. I won’t lie; I’ll ensure the same of them," Salem said seriously. The four beside her trembled slightly.

"Fair enough. To answer your question, I’m human, a man, to clarify your doubts." He chuckled lightly, almost too relaxed for the situation. "I’ll go even further and say that my magic comes from something that happened to me about seven months ago."

"And what event would that be—" I interrupted her.

"I believe you’ve already asked your question." Salem turned her neck in my direction. The intensity of her gaze would have made a lesser man tremble; to me, it just seemed like she was pouting.

"... Ask your question."

I turned to Devas. "Want to ask something? You were the target of her question, after all."

"Feel free. I’ll take the next one." He didn’t take his eyes off Salem.

"Very well… Hazel…" Salem hadn’t asked me a question; I would return the favor. The man raised his head; the hatred in his eyes was something I hadn’t seen in a while. "My question is for Hazel Rainart. Why did you choose to go to Salem instead of speaking to me directly after your sister’s death?"

The man snarled at my words, barely seeming to contain himself. By the way he alternated his gaze between me and Salem, what was stopping him, greater than his hatred for me, was the fear he had of her.

"Why would I have done that?..." He spat the phrase. "Because a child would have words for the murderer of her sister?"

I sighed. That’s what I thought… What a pity.

"Your question, Salem."

The Queen didn’t hesitate. "My question is for Devas. What event granted you your magic?"

"I was kidnapped," Devas said simply. I couldn’t contain my smile at the expression on everyone’s faces on the other side of the table.

Salem’s lips parted before closing again, as if she were deciding what to say; then she furrowed her brow.

"Your answer is unsatisfactory."

"Just like the child’s there," Devas pointed to Hazel. "A half-assed answer for a half-assed answer. Fair, isn’t it?"

Devas added, without looking at the man: "By the way, I don’t like you. Watch your heart."

Salem ignored Devas’s remark and stared at Hazel, which made his immense body seem tiny as he shrank back. She didn’t take her gaze off the man as she began to speak again.

“Something you will not repeat.” She cast one last glance at Hazel before looking at the other three and finally turning to Devas. "Complete your answer, and I will do the same with the next question directed at me."

“Good wordplay. Change it to: the next question you answer, and we have a deal.”

“Do you want to find out the limits of my patience that much?” Thunder rumbled as one above us.

“Do you want your answers that little?” Devas retorted with a slight smile.

To my surprise, and everyone else's, including her own, Salem laughed. A genuine laugh, low and melodic. She covered her mouth with one hand while waving at Devas with the other, her palm facing up.

“Truly a find... I accept your deal, Devas. I will complete the next question I answer.”

“I’ll never understand…” Devas shook his head. “The being that kidnapped me proposed a deal; not that I could really refuse. The moment I accepted, he did something to my heart and my brain. I don’t know exactly what; I assume it involved my soul too; it gave me magic.”

“The being?— Your turn.” Salem interrupted.

'Your,' not 'yours,' I noticed. She didn’t want a question from me.

Devas hummed for a moment, the orange of his eyes almost pulsing with his voice. He didn’t take his eyes off Salem for even a second.

“Magic for magic,” he finally said. “How do you control gravity? If you want to give me an example, I would appreciate it.”

“I assume you didn’t want to waste one of the relic's questions on this,” Salem incorrectly assumed. She turned to me. “Didn’t you teach him anything?”

“Only the theory. My current state prevents me from showing any spell larger than a spark.” I spoke half-truthfully. I had taught Devas, but so little that it could hardly be considered real teaching.

Everything he knew was self-taught, learning by observing Dahlia and thanks to the question he had asked Jinn.

“Oh, yes, the Maidens. I’ll never understand why you did what you did. Well, I will do a demonstration.” She extended her arm and opened her hand toward a nearby Grimm. “Watch. I will demonstrate only once.”

Without even looking at the Beowolf, she closed her fingers. I felt the magic around the Grimm contract for just a second before he was crushed into a ball the size of a watermelon, and the ground beneath him cracked under the increased gravity.

“Use your magic to condense gravity or dilute it.” Her red eyes glowed with magic. The Grimm next to the one that was crushed flew into the sky. “It’s a trick that comes with time and requires a delicate touch. Don’t get frustrated if you can’t do it the first or the hundredth time.”

Devas's eyes glowed even brighter orange, staring not at Salem but at the targets of her demonstration, her magic. I had seen Grimms staring at humans with a gentler gaze...

… You shouldn’t have done that, Salem.

“I understand… Thank you for the demonstration. It’s quite impressive.” He had a soft smile on his face, impressed. Something that seemed to satisfy Salem.

“I’m glad you noticed that. Now, it’s my turn. The being that gifted you your magic, what did he look like? Made of light?” Did she think one of the brothers had gifted Devas? A good guess, even if completely wrong.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him. The deal he proposed to me was written on a blue illusionary screen,” Devas answered without lying.

She frowned at the answer. “An illusion, typical...” She waved at Devas. “It’s your turn, ask.”

“Do you want to ask something, Ozma?” Devas asked, ignoring Salem’s glare when my name was mentioned. “A question for each of us?”

I shook my head. “I don’t have anything in mind at the moment. You can take the turn.”

“Fair enough. There’s something I was in doubt about anyway…” Devas’s eyes fell on Cinder. The woman tried to glare back at him but looked away after less than a second. “Cinder Fall, you wouldn’t happen to have a stepmother and adopted sisters, would you?”

“What, how?—” She closed her mouth so tightly that her Aura shone for a second. Her shock lasted only an instant before her face went as neutral as possible. “Are you sure you want to waste a question on me when my mistress is right there?”

“Salem is far more interesting than you, yes.” Devas easily agreed. Cinder’s eyebrows nearly formed a 'V'. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Answer or pass, I’ll take advantage if you’re the last one.”

“Answer, Cinder,” Salem ordered before Cinder could open her mouth.

“… I did. My stepmother and my two older half-sisters died many years ago. I killed them myself.” She elaborated a bit on the question. “Is that enough?”

“Yeah, I found out what I wanted.” Devas replied with a small amused smile. “Watch your glass slipper. We’re not at a ball, so don’t lose it.”

A reference from his world, probably — I thought. Something from one of the fairy tales he said resembled some people from our world. Miss Rose was Little Red Riding Hood, wasn’t she?

Before Cinder could ask anything, Salem interrupted, saying: “How many people do you know that have magic?”

“That’s a strange line of thought.” Devas uncrossed his hands for the first time, tapping his right fingers on the table while his left fist supported his chin. “Many for me to remember the exact number.”

Before the “I knew it” look could disappear from Salem’s face, Devas spoke again.

“Why do you hate humanity? I’m including the faunus in that.” Did he not know the answer to that question?… Why?…

“I don’t hate humanity, much less the faunus. I couldn’t care less if someone has a pair of extra ears, a tail, feathers, or horns.” Salem’s eyes glowed with disgust. She looked behind us, to Vale.

“Nor do I hate those who use the name of my species. The most I feel for them is disgust and revulsion — pity,” she scoffed. “Hollow shells of something that was once much greater, reduced to… this.”

Salem didn’t wait to ask: “Where is the base or kingdom of those people with magic you know?”

“I pass.” Devas ignored Salem’s glare. “If I could kill you, would you accept it in silence or would you fight back?”

This time, it wasn’t just about Devas that Salem’s mana fell. I took a deep breath, swirling the little magic I had left around my body, following the breathing style I had created, and held my ground.

“You mock me.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. My question is serious.” Devas stared at her as he stood up. The chair under his body flattened due to the increased gravity. She didn’t just use her mana on him. “Answer or pass. I will answer the next question.”

“… You’re more resilient than I expected,” Salem slightly praised. “No, I wouldn’t accept my death. I don’t know what Ozma or the relic told you about me, but I won’t lower my head and accept a sentence without fighting… not anymore.”

“A shame… Ask your question.”

“That purple flame, what is it?” Salem stopped pressuring Devas and me. The broken chair beneath him vanished, and another identical one reappeared in its place. He answered as he sat down.

“Hellfire. Something I received after completing a mission for the same being that kidnapped me.” He extended his right hand, which glowed with a purple flame. All the Grimms within dozens of meters recoiled like shadows before the light. Salem frowned.

“You still keep in contact with the being.” It wasn’t a question. “Speak.”

“Would you leave without a fight?” Devas extinguished the flame. “I don’t wish to shed blood today.”

Salem scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you think I didn’t notice your gaze? You say you don’t wish to shed blood, but you barely seem to be holding back from attacking me. You hate me.”

“I’m not an animal that can’t control itself.” Devas retorted. It seems he decided to end this game. “And I don’t hate you; I have, at most, simple anger.”

“Anger, you say. Don’t you know your own emotions?” Salem leaned forward. “Tell me then, what did I do to deserve your ‘simple anger.’”

“Killing millions with your Grimms isn’t a sufficient reason?” He leaned forward, just like her. “I don’t think there’s a sane person in the world who wouldn’t be angry at you for that.”

“You admit you’re insane. Good, that’s the first step to healing.” Salem’s eyes glowed red, a scarlet fire burning around them. Raw mana. “If you want my answer, don’t lie.”

Devas’s smile twisted; if it had been calm before, now it hid a sickly trace of an insane form. The shadows around seemed to begin whispering deliriously to me, the Grimms shrank in fear.

It was good that I was used to keeping my face blank, just as it was good that Devas’s shadow was hidden by Salem’s table, because the dozens of hungry eyes that appeared there were a surprise.

“Is your memory so weak that you’ve forgotten the mission you entrusted to Tyrian?” Devas mimicked Salem's way of speaking. “Does that answer your question, Your Majesty?”

“The girl with silver eyes… I see.” Salem tilted her head to the side. “I’ve been informed that you protect her, but I didn’t know your affection for her was so strong. You don’t resemble each other at all; you must not be related. A lover?”

“A friend.” He denied.

“Someone dear, just the same. I understand the reason for your ‘simple anger’; I’ve done more for less when someone dear to me was touched.” Her gaze softened for a moment, becoming nostalgic. Still, she didn’t turn to me.

She could call me Ozma, but I was no longer the man she had loved.

“Well then, I’ve had enough answers for now.” Salem clapped her hands on the table and stood up, her dress fluttering with the movement. She removed the glove from her left hand and threw it in our direction. “Which of you two will be my adversary? Or will it be both of you?”

Devas didn’t even glance at me when he stood up and picked up Salem’s red glove.

“I must say, I’m not well-versed in the customs of nobility. Do I need to do something now?” He looked at the Queen while holding the glove in his right hand. “I insist that we distance ourselves from Vale.”

"Keep the glove; I'll take it back when I win. Don't worry, I'll keep you alive; I still have questions." Salem began to walk, her dress floating lightly, not getting dirty in the mud. Her heels barely seemed to touch the ground.

“And if I win?” Devas shot me a glance and a nod before following her. I grasped the hilt of The Long Memory.

… One last dance, old friend.

“If you win, Devas, take her right glove.” I stood up, answering for Salem. “A pair of gloves from a queen, won in a challenge… I don’t think Remnant has witnessed this before.”

Devas halted his steps.

“There’s always a first time… I’ll see you tomorrow, my friend.” He continued walking.

“… I’ll see you tomorrow, my friend.”

I didn’t know if I really wanted this to happen, but I couldn’t lie. Even after all these years, a part of me didn’t want to die, to really die… Even more so after meeting Devas. I wanted to watch his journey…

I looked up as the rain began to fall on my body. The moon was hidden behind the clouds…

… Let’s see what the sun brings if tomorrow arrives.

[…]

POV: Third Person.

Everyone in Remnant who had access to a screen connected to the CCT was tense. The last few minutes had been a revelation, even if not with many explanations. Everyone had far more questions than answers.

After the human and Ozma jumped from the Vale wall, Lisa Lavander’s team pointed the cameras in their direction. The transmission lasted about three minutes, following the two as they walked slowly, before the screen was covered in static and a single line of words appeared.

[Stream Calamity]

Before Lisa or any of her team could react to what should have been a hacker attack, the transmission went black. A second later, the image returned, this time showing the human and Ozma from a much closer distance, as if a camera were following them closely.

All channels in Remnant connected to the viral transmission from the Vale News Network, which had just received confirmation from General James Ironwood that Vale was going to war, had the same view: the human and Ozma, as the human seemed to call Ozpin, the Headmaster of Beacon, conversing as they calmly walked toward the largest Grimm army ever recorded.

“The stream is possessive, it seems…” Weiss murmured to herself next to Ruby. The two were walking along the inner part of the wall, with the heiress placing her glyphs at points she deemed important.

Yang and Blake were farther away; the former still irritated by the argument she had with the human and Taiyang, while the latter was explaining as much as she could to her parents and Ilia as they prepared for battle.

“Everyone in Remnant must be watching.” Ruby glanced at the Atlas soldiers around. All were tense, but a few had realized what was happening and propped their Scrolls somewhere visible for themselves and their colleagues.

Ruby checked her phone while Weiss placed another glyph. There were two viewer numbers.

[Viewers: 9726]

[Viewers (temporary): 1,296,162]

Even with Ruby’s quick reflexes, her eyes could barely keep up with how fast the second number was rising. The hundreds were just a white blur to her eyes.

“Devas must not have seen it. He would have said something.” She put her phone away and tapped the Relic of Knowledge tied to her waist. “Jinn, are you there?”

A third voice echoed in the air right after the question: “I am, Ruby. Do you need something?”

“Salem, how strong is she?” The leader of Team RWBY asked. Her partner stopped what she was doing and paid attention to the conversation.

“Worried about whether Devas will lose?”

“He won’t lose.” Ruby shook her head, her voice leaving no room for argument. “That isn’t even a possibility.”

“Worried about possible injuries, then.” Jinn didn’t argue.

“Yes. With each battle, he seems to get hurt more and more…” Her silver eyes gained a worried glint. “How much stronger is she than the Deerclops?…”

One single word heightened Ruby and Weiss’s concern even more.

“Very.”

[…]

Qrow needed a stronger drink.

“Holy shit…” He rubbed his face as he looked at his own Scroll. “On top of feeling like a useless piece of shit, I also think that Salem, of all the women in Remnant, is hot. What a shitty day…”

“Only one of those is true.” Taiyang’s voice held only a slight trace of amusement. He looked at Yang, who was sitting with her head down, watching the stream. “You and Yang are more alike than I’d like. At least she doesn’t drink.”

“Better to take after me than Raven.” Qrow huffed. “The girls are attached to Devas.”

“The obvious has been said with fewer words. You don’t want to face an immortal witch for someone who, at the very least, you don’t like.” The blonde turned to the black-haired man with an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t fuck with me.” Taiyang let out a dry laugh. “I don’t like Ozpin romantically, like they like our resident alien. I admire the man and respect him, that’s it.”

“Avoid commenting on my daughters’ crush on the same man, and I’ll avoid commenting on your crush on Ozpin.”

“If the Grimm outside don’t kill you, I swear on anything above us, I will.” Qrow growled.

“We’re at the base of the wall, you idiot, there are hundreds of people above us.”

“Great, many targets for my vow.”

The two continued watching the stream and chatting casually, successfully calming their nerves for the battle they knew was coming.

[…]

“Didn’t you say he was an alien?” Kali shouted. Blake’s cat ears flattened against her hair. “I get the appeal of older men; it must’ve come from me—your father is three years older than I am, after all—but an alien?!”

“It’s better than Adam,” Ghira commented calmly from the side, less agitated than his wife. “An alien is preferable to a crazy terrorist with a penchant for exterminating humanity.”

Blake chose to remain silent and not mention that the human was probably a bit insane too and had the means to wipe out humanity. — Ugh! I really do have a type, don’t I?...

“… I can’t argue with that,” Kali sighed, her right foot tapping the floor incessantly. “So, daughter, when were you going to tell us this?”

Blake shrank back.

“Never, right? Where did I go wrong?!”

“That’s not something that comes up in casual conversation, Mom!” Blake thanked the heavens that Ilia had left the room to help prepare for battle; dealing with her parents and her jealousy would be impossible.

“I can’t just say, ‘Hey, Mom, Dad, you know that really strong guy I said is my friend and that you shouldn’t fight with? Well, he’s also an alien from another UNIVERSE!’”

“Your sense of humor still sucks, daughter,” Ghira pointed out.

“That wasn’t a joke.”

“Seemed like one to me,” the only man in the Belladonna family sighed. “I still think it is, actually. Part of me is still waiting for the cameras to show up and someone to say it’s all just a prank.”

“Denying reality doesn’t suit you, dear,” Kali sat beside her husband and placed a hand on his thigh.

“Can you blame me in this situation?”

“I don’t think so…” Kali sighed. “Magic is real, the Grimm have a queen who’s an immortal witch apparently, and now aliens… Anything else?”

Ghira’s Scroll, where he was watching the stream, decided to respond to Kali.

[“Hellfire. Something I received after doing a mission for the same being that kidnapped me.”]

Blake fervently ignored the judging looks from her parents.

[…]

“You know, Neo, I’m glad you’re friends with him; better to be friends with the monster than anything else,” Roman commented, still contemplating in his mind whether he should flee Vale as fast as possible.

The pros of fleeing were: not having to fight against the giant army of Grimm.

The cons of fleeing were: if the human killed the immortal witch, he’d probably be pissed at him for running away.

The latter seemed a bit impossible, but Roman decided not to risk it and went back to preparing for a fight. He wouldn’t be on the front lines, but helping here and there with a shot or two was relatively simple.

“Devas isn’t a monster; he’s a cool monster,” Neo signaled quickly to Roman.

“You only say that because he gave you ice cream and played your crazy games,” Roman sighed and turned back to watch the stream on his Scroll, keeping an eye on Neo out of the corner of his eye.

“That and because he has a nice body and doesn’t care if I steal from people. Oh, and he probably has a big cock too,” she signaled again. Roman’s neck turned so fast that it made his Aura shine.

“I didn’t quite catch that last part; would you mind repeating it?”

“That he probably has a big cock?”

“… Because I still have hope.” He looked up at the bar ceiling and let out a long sigh. “Junior! Bring me a drink!”

The kitchen door opened seconds later, and Junior stepped out, accompanied by Melanie and Miltia, all three carrying large backpacks on their backs.

“Didn’t you leave?” Junior grabbed a random bottle from the bar and tossed it to Roman.

“I’m staying; I’d rather face the Grimm army.” The thief filled a small glass before downing it in one go. He grimaced at the taste before blowing air and shaking his head. “Whiskey is shit, as always, but it’ll do.”

“And you three?” Roman turned to Junior and the Malachite sisters. “Are you packing to leave and, of all things, grabbing drinks?”

“We’re going to the wall to help. The alcohol is for improvised Molotovs,” Melanie replied in a dry voice.

Roman blinked. Neo did the same. They both turned to look at the three.

“… You’re going to help?” He glanced at his glass. — Junior had drugged this thing, hadn’t he?

“If you’re going to help, what’s stopping us?” Junior answered.

“Common sense?” Neo signaled. “Survival instinct?”

Junior raised a finger to respond, then lowered it and nodded simply.

“Fair enough. But we’re still going to help.” He looked at the bar before explaining. “If Vale falls, not only is it probably the beginning of the end of the world, but nearly everything I’ve worked for my entire life will fall with it. A Xiong fights for what is his.”

“If not now, when are we going to help?” Miltia said in a low, slightly shy voice. “Vale is our home; if we don’t fight when our home is under attack… when will we?”

Roman looked at the glass again and picked up the whiskey bottle.

“You drugged this shit, didn’t you?”

[…]

Outside Vale.

Salem and the human walked among the Grimm army without any interference. They walked for about twenty, maybe thirty meters, before Salem began to take flight. Her black dress, with red hues, swayed in the wind, exposing the outer parts of her pale thighs.

Her hair waved along with the rain, the drops barely managing to touch her. Without looking back, she shot into the air, the sound barrier shattering in her wake as she flew away from Vale. If the human wanted a fight away from civilization, so be it. The location of their confrontation didn’t matter to Salem.

The human watched the witch fly away and took a step forward, then another, and a third. To all who saw him move, his actions were more than just strange.

It was like watching an old movie with hand-cut edits in the tape; just a blink was enough to lose sight of the human. His movements were blurred, like a shadow in the corner of the vision, a trick of light in front of the eyes, or a hallucination of someone deprived of sleep. No matter how fast Salem was, the human was just a few meters behind her, pursuing her like a shadow.

After five minutes, Salem stopped flying and slowly descended to the ground.

“This distance is sufficient,” she declared, as if giving an order. Her face turned toward Vale. “The fight started there; I can feel the Grimm rushing toward the walls.”

“I’m already aware of that fact,” the human reappeared ten meters from Salem. His orange eyes scanned the surroundings for a second before looking down at the ground. “Mountain Glenn. How ironic…”

He raised his head toward Salem, his face now covered by a deer skull. Salem looked at the Bone Helm on the human’s face with curiosity.

“Any last comments before we begin?” The human closed his eyes.

“None, I’ll ask all the questions I have when this is over,” Salem replied, creating an ice coin in her hand. On one side, there was a female face wearing a crown; on the other, a shield with the letters 'OZ.'

She tossed the coin into the air, where it spun rapidly with the rain and wind. Neither of them paid attention to the coin, Salem looking at the human, and the human with his eyes closed.

When the coin hit the ground, the ice shattered into dozens of pieces... just like Salem’s body.

The witch had no time to react, blink, breathe, or think. In one instant, the human was ten meters away from her; in the next, her head exploded in a shower of black blood, thanks to a left fist covered by the Bone Helm.

The human's right arm blurred, the Ice Blade appearing in his hand. The movement was fluid, cutting from his right shoulder toward the base of her waist. He pulled back his left arm, now covered in black blood, and twisted his wrist, cutting downward; the Relic of Destruction appeared mid-movement, slicing from Salem’s left shoulder down to her right thigh.

The cuts continued without pause. From her left thigh toward her heart, from her right calf to the left, from her neck to the center of her stomach. The human cut Salem, almost randomly, dozens of times in less than a second.

Eight black hands grasped Salem's head the moment she regenerated, her red eyes blinking wide for just an instant before her thoughts vanished along with everything above her neck.

Cut by cut, the human ripped apart the witch, his movements starting to repeat after a while. One cut, from the right shoulder to the base of the waist; another coming from the left shoulder, stopping just above the right thigh. Repeated cuts and rips, a pattern, all ending and returning to Salem’s heart: the core of her curse, where the divinity of the God of Light resided.

Each cut dragged a chain, slicing through flesh and tearing a small part of one of the links binding Salem’s soul. When a chain shattered, it returned to the core, at the center of her heart.

Cut by cut, Salem’s wounds became increasingly painful, taking a moment longer to regenerate, bleeding one more drop of blood, blood that seemed less black with each passing second...

The moment Salem's head regenerated for the second time, in the brief instant that existed between her thoughts and the Bone Helm's hands crushing her skull, the witch’s magic exploded in all directions, whether in fire, water, wind, gravity, lightning, or ice. All directions within a hundred-meter radius were ripped apart by the random spells Salem managed to think of in that instant.

The witch didn’t hesitate to take off into the air the moment her head regenerated for the third time. Salem didn’t even pay attention to her naked state, her dress having been reduced to tatters long ago, and gave a command. Something began to awaken on a nearby mountain…

She raised her right hand to the clouds while lowering her left hand toward the ground. Above, thousands of lightning bolts twisted together like entangled snakes, but before she could command them to rain down, destroying everything around, or condense gravity around her, an ice sword pierced her forehead.

Salem’s red, furious eyes met the human's orange, insane ones. Four words slipped from the lips beneath the deer mask: “Das Klagen der Königin.”

The temperature plummeted, and the rain instantly turned to snow. The spells Salem was shaping shattered as all the mana in the environment was forced to change, aligned with the ice attribute. Salem’s body froze like a statue carved from gray ice.

The human spun his body, reversing his position and ending up with his legs in the air, before kicking the air. The platform created by the [Angelic Greaves] shattered, propelling him downward, just as Salem’s frozen body did, several times faster than the speed of sound.

The witch’s frozen body shattered upon impact, reforming before all the pieces even touched the ground. She opened her mouth, but her words were consumed by the cold, which dropped even further. Her throat froze before her head was shattered by eight black hands.

“Das Klagen der Königin.”

The human cut Salem with the Relic of Destruction, not using his ability, while allowing the durability of the Ice Blade to regenerate, fed by the cold mana around him, as well as his own mana. The ice sword darkened with each passing second, taking on a deep blue hue.

The human normally wouldn’t be able to use the sword so well, as the blade practically hated him with fervor. His mana was something warm, containing the 'Sun' attribute, while that of the sword was cold, containing the 'Ice' attribute. The Ice Blade was a weapon of terrible compatibility for the human; just breathing made it difficult to use, but…

The nightmare energy around him moved on its own, without the human’s command. The gray of the Bone Helm darkened to a deep purple hue with the drop in temperature and the ice. The shadows trembled as if they were alive.

… The ice had always been an ally of the deer.

The opening Salem had to react was a massive shadow that covered the entire mountain. The human didn’t even look up and spun the Relic of Destruction, cutting Salem in half while activating the sword's ability as he impaled the witch’s heart with his right hand, ripping it out.

The Grimm above the human would cost years of life he wasn’t willing to waste destroying it, so his target was the ground. A straight tunnel fifty meters deep opened instantly beneath the human’s feet, and he dove downward, using the black hands of the Bone Helm.

The next moment, the partially frozen Wyvern Grimm collided with the mountain, its enormous jaws swallowing Salem’s bisected body and everything around.

Salem didn’t even bother to move, taking the opportunity to finally think and energize the Grimm with her magic while increasing the gravity in the area around her, within a radius of one kilometer, dozens of times.

The human grunted, spitting blood as his body was slammed to the ground. His bones broke, and his organs ruptured under the weight pressing down on his entire body. His Aura pulsed gray, covered in symbols, marks, and blood-red veins.

His vision switched off into static as he fainted for a second, before the damage to his brain was quickly healed. The human didn’t allow himself to faint a second time.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the pain throughout his body, and punched the ground, clenching his right hand tightly as he commanded the VoidBag to pour the contents of a potion directly into his stomach.

At the same time, he made the mana flow through his body, directing part of it to the [Devas Ring] — the [Regeneration Band] having shattered under the pressure of gravity — and another part shaped into a spell…

Salem’s eyes widened as she felt the gravity of an area reverse, even if for a brief moment. Before she could condense gravity again, all the mana in that area disappeared.

“The Relic of Destruction... How many years of life did he lose for that?!” Salem growled, ordering the Wyvern Grimm to take flight, heating its scales with fire magic.

It was only when they approached the clouds that the witch sighed in relief and wiped her eyes, clearing the red blood that obscured her vision.

... Wait, what? — Salem illuminated the mouth of the Grimm with her magic and realized everything was covered in blood. It wasn’t black, as it should have been, but red.

... Red like roses.

Salem's chest ached, and her vision blurred for an instant. As she breathed, instead of air, blood gushed from her throat in large quantities. It took about ten seconds for her to finally regenerate, and when she did, she realized her skin was no longer as pale as she remembered...

He... He removed the miasma from the Grimm Pools from me? — Salem’s thoughts raced, with only a small part of her attention focused on the interior of the Grimm’s mouth. — Not only that, but my regeneration...

“Can he really kill me?…” she murmured, incredulous. — How? I didn’t even see him use that purple flame... How?!

Salem approached the teeth of the Wyvern Grimm, commanding it to open its mouth. The Grimm seemed to hesitate for a moment before parting its jaws.

She forced the cold of the environment away with her mana and looked down, searching for the human while commanding the lightning in the clouds to finally destroy everything around them… Or at least they should have, if not for the dirty silver obelisks that appeared in a circular area around the human, who was looking up.

Despite Salem’s orders and coordination, all the lightning headed toward one of the obelisks. Even with her forcing them, none of the lightning struck the human; the witch quickly realized why.

There’s no mana above him. Not only that, but there’s also no air! — She mentally snarled. — There’s no way for the lightning to reach him. How has he not died of old age after using the relic so many times—

Salem froze, not from the cold, but from shock and something more… The Wyvern Grimm shrank back in fear, barely continuing to flap its wings to fly. The people in Vale, fighting against the Grimm, froze; the Grimm they were battling began to tremble in place, no longer attacking anyone around.

Everyone, whether human or faunus, from Vacuo to Atlas, froze for a full second, while the Grimm across the planet shrank back in fear.

“It was only half… damn Wyvern… I got scared for nothing thinking this giant lizard was a dragon…” the human murmured to himself between bites. Even from a distance, Salem could clearly hear his voice. “But that’s okay… tearing the rest off will be easier… Tastes like shit…”

Salem slowly looked down at the human… who had his mouth completely covered in purple fire, while his teeth were cracked and bleeding, as well as his gums… in gold.

… The gold of the divinity of the God of Light that he was chewing on like candy, before swallowing.

“What… what are you?…” Salem murmured, for the first time in a very… very long time, genuinely afraid.

Her survival instincts were being activated for the first time since she had become immortal. Awakened by the thing that was committing the greatest sin possible for Remnant… Devouring a part of its creator.

The human looked at Salem with his head tilted slightly to the side, as did his jaw, which was covered in cracks bleeding gold. The orange glowed above while gold dripped to the ground.

The human’s mouth slowly opened to respond, cracking in the process…

“▂▂▄▄▅▅▃▃▄▄▅▅▂▂▃▄▃▄▄▅▅”

… Then Mountain Glenn was consumed by insanity.

[...]---[...]

About the chapter: Some actions— those of Ozma —might seem a bit off. But there’s a reason for it, and I’ll explain that in the next chapter.

Salem wouldn’t have messed up so badly if she hadn’t had the trust of someone who is, well, immortal and, again, powerful, with only one other being being her equal—someone who is currently very weak. If her instincts were better and she weren't arrogant as hell, Devas wouldn’t have sliced her up about 2,000 times in around 20 seconds.

Well then. I’ll keep this brief. Until the next chapter! Good night and happy reading!