POV The First Brother:
An inquisitor kneeled before the altar, his four tiny wings on his back moving as he prayed.
Suddenly the doors into the chamber swung wide open, revealing a white corridor with another inquisitor standing in the entrance. The kneeling inquisitor stood up, turning his attention to the newcomer.
The newly arrived inquisitor stood without moving as if collecting his resolve before finally speaking, “The angels have been defeated!”
Suddenly the winged inquisitor known as the first brother fell on his knees, a loud clang resounding through the empty chamber as his armour hidden under his robes hit the cold stone floor.
“No! No! You are a liar! No one can resist the might of the heavens!” the inquisitor touched his head, his head moving back and forth, his voice gradually becoming increasingly muffled and distorted.
He felt like his world crumbled, all of his sacrifices being wasted in vain.
“First, brother, we have to leave! Heretics are preparing to attack this church!”
A loud explosion shook the building, the white vitrages shattering with stone dust falling from the ceiling.
Dozens of steps came from the hallway. Bright light flashes flashed in the corridor, followed by screaming and shouting. Smaller explosions constantly resounded through the building.
Suddenly his resolve returned, with new energy filling his body and soul, “If they want to fight, then shall be it! I will teach them the power of light!”
The winged inquisitor stood up again, his whole body starting to glow dimly white. His hand grabbed a whip from his belt, a long string of bright light unveiling itself. The inquisitor moved his whip, throwing bright white sparks as he dragged it through the ground.
“Let’s go, brother. We will not falter before these heretics! We are inquisitors. It is our divine duty to punish those that sinned against god!”
With his four wings, the first brother stepped into the white corridor, his steps echoing through the empty hall as he walked forward, his eyes brightly glowing with his heart being calm without any sign of fear.
He turned behind a corner, his robes fluttering behind him.
Multiple inquisitors stood in the corridor, swinging their whips of light as they faced a crowd of heretical immortals. The whole gallery was tightly packed with them, the masked cultists with masks hiding in the crowd.
The inquisitors swung their whips, the strings of light moving through the crowd as a hot knife through butter. The light strings turned into a white blur, cutting and splitting the bodies of heretics into multiple pieces.
The heretics didn’t even falter, their cheers resounding through the hallway.
“Find the boss!”
“Let’s loot the church!”
Magical light flashed in the crowd, multiple brightly glowing projectiles shooting out, hitting the inquisitors and burning away their robes, revealing the silver amour under them.
The first brother felt rage surge through his veins as he slowly stepped forward, pushing himself through the inquisitors.
In an instant, the heretics became even more insane as they pushed forwards, all of their eyes greedily looking at first brother.
“It’s a miniboss! Quickly kill him!”
He ignored the insane ramblings of heretics as he poured his holy energy into his whip, its light brightening even more.
With a flip of his wrist, his whip turned into a bright light. A purifying power swept through the lines of immortals, burning them while sending even more flying backwards as if they were ragdolls.
At once, their whole formation fell into shambles, burned bodies sprawled all over the polished marble floor.
POV Vesuvius:
The dragon was resting on top of his tower when the air suddenly turned colder, a feeling of rot and death creeping around him.
His lids immediately opened, revealing his two reptilian eyes searching for any danger.
An old man stood on top of the opposite white peak. His black clothes were moving in the wind. The mist was slowly spreading down the mountain, drowning everything in an impenetrable veil.
“Dragon, this wasn’t part of our deal!” a booming yet frail voice reached over the gap between peaks.
The dragon spread his wings, his massive body lifting into the air, the thick black smoke covering all of the stars in the sky. On the outside, he looked like he was booming in confidence but inside, he felt highly concerned as the last thing he wanted was another fight that could cost his life.
He still had the vivid memory of the scythe just materialising out of nowhere and knocking the three-winged angel out of the fight.
‘They are fairly strong, likely fairly high ranked too, but I can’t feel any domain. They are either too weak to form one, miss some condition or are hiding it.’
Knowing he had to look powerful, Vesuvius confidently turned his golden eyes towards the reaper, his aura erupting out, pushing the cold feeling away from his body.
“Reaper, we have a deal, I give you lives, and you give me your services! I uphold my end of the bargain. The angels were unpredictable variable.”
The reaper looked unmoved as he just stood there without change in their posture, so Vesuvius decided to continue.
“In the end, you have profited out of this too. Lives of angels must be worth much more than these of mortals.” Vesuvius immediately noticed that the cold feeling was even stronger than during their last meeting.
The reaper suddenly leapt into the air, stopping mid-air. The elderly man levitated in the air high above a cloud-covered valley, mist spreading from his body.
“Dragon, I am not here to blame you for the stupidity of angels. I am here just to take my fair compensation for all of the extra trouble..”
‘And they are calling us dragon greedy. So many dead angels had to be a great feast, yet they still want more.’
Vesuvius didn’t relax as he carefully observed the reaper for any sign of attacking.
“I saw it you have curious power, with these curses of yours.” the walking stick in the hand of the old man suddenly transformed, turning into a terrifying scythe radiating cold out of its blade.
The dragon immediately flapped his wings, retreating back from the reaper, his eyes not moving from the scythe, his muscle tense, ready to react to even a minuscule movement.
“What is the meaning of this?” The cold and deep voice of the dragon vibrating with magic shook with the surrounding, starting a massive avalanche that swept down the steep stone cliffs.
The reaper didn’t even flinch as he pointed with his old, wrinkly hand at the shiny black blade of his scythe.
For the first time, the reaper’s voice changed, becoming slightly emotional, “Feed my scythe. She wants that power, too. Infuse her with your curse magic! They are a perfect fit!”
(AN: See it, I managed to avoid a cliffhanger!)