The Guardian Temple

Table of Contents
Chapter 17 l Chapter 18 l Chapter 19 l Chapter 20 l Chapter 21 l Chapter 22 l Chapter 23
Chapter 24 l Chapter 25 l Chapter 26 l Chapter 27

Xei

As the chaos of the battle ensued, I did my best to keep my head up, myself alive and the enemies dead.

But they seemed endless.

Even as my new allies helped to push back here and there, it seemed the saints were barely helping us hold the line.

I knocked yet another demon to the ground only for Vlad to skewer it with his pike, grunting as he gave a twist to ensure the demon had fallen, “You fight well, vampiress,” Vlad stated as he gave me an approving nod.

I forced a smile, “You fight well too, mortal.”

Vlad scoffed, withdrawing his spear from the fallen demon, “How many wars have you led, Undead?”

I readied my blade, “More of a fighter than a leader.”

Vlad moved to my side, thrusting forward and dragging a demon towards me, allowing me to stab into its eye sockets.

I glanced out into the battlefield, my eye searching for Demond and Tasha.

“If you have comrades on the field, it’s best to survive and defeat the enemy,” Vlad advised, “Do not get distracted in the hopes they survive.”

“Demond isn’t just a comrade!” I hissed as I dodged a mace slamming down between Vlad and I.

Vlad glared at the large two headed demon who stomped towards us.

I tried to flank the creature from the left while it seemed focused on Vlad, but it’s difficult to sneak up on a creature with two heads.

A second mace swung at me and it nearly took my head off before Vlad’s pike drove into the monster’s bicep.

I turned to thank him, but I only had time to shout out a warning as I saw the demon’s second mace swinging for Vlad, “Behind you!”

Vlad pulled the spear out of the demon’s bicep, black blood gushing from the wound as it roared in pain. But Vlad didn’t react fast enough, and the mace crushed his shoulder.

I ran past Vlad, leaping at the confused demon and slitting one of its throats, causing it to stagger back and collapse.

I rushed to Vlad’s side, looking to his shoulder, “How bad is it?”

Vlad winced as he tried to move, “Crushed…” He shifted his pike in his other arm, slowly getting to his feet, his arm swinging uselessly at his side. Though he did his best to hide his pain, I could see that every movement was causing him agony.

I ripped his cloak slightly, tying his arm tight to his chest despite his protests, “We need to get you to a medic. My sister can heal you, I know there are others who can do so.”

“I am to die on the battlefield,” Vlad stated, his dark eyes fixed on mine, “I need no medical attention.”

I fixed him with a stern gaze, “You’d be useless on the battlefield, you think you can thrust that spear with your shoulder shattered?”

In an attempt to prove me wrong, Vlad thrust his spear forward. While several spikes ripped out of the ground and pinned a few demons in place, he staggered forward, gasping in pain.

“So it’s settled then,” I announced as I rushed under his working arm and supported his weight easily, making my way deeper into the city, my eye on the lookout for any kind of medic.

I heard Olga’s voice call out, “I’ll cover you, Vlad! Do not fall just yet,” I could hear more explosions behind us as I carried him, “You shouldn’t fall to such a meager creature!”

Vlad gritted his teeth as I helped him escape the frontlines, “If I did, I would count on the Saint of Vengeance to live up to her namesake.”

Olga’s laugh vanished into the din of battle as I soldiered Vlad towards the back, “Medic!” I shouted.

A burly looking dark skinned man rushed towards me. He was shirtless, his onyx skin muddied with blood and gore, his blue jeans blackened with soot, “This way!” He shouted, his accent heavy.

In his free hand he carried a hammer.

“Hello, John,” Vlad winced.

The dark skinned man answered with a wide grin, “So, we can agree a hammer can do damage?”

Vlad gave a nod as John readied his hammer, ensuring our path towards the back was clear.

There I spotted Irfan, alongside other angels tending to the wounded. “Irfan!”

Irfan turned to me, forcing a smile. His face was covered in dirt, sweat and blood, “Ah, Xei! Is it a new feeling, saving someone from the battlefield?”

I tried to not take what Irfan said as an insult as I handed Vlad off to him, “His shoulder is shattered.”

Irfan gave a nod, his smile redoubling, “Ah, though beyond what I could fix, I believe we have someone here who can.”

I watched in shock and awe as a large red scaled dragon, which appeared to match my aunt and father’s description of the Dragons of Nite, exited one of the medical tents.

The creature walked on two massive clawed feet, cloth sandals covered in muck were met by a long set of white medical robes, of sorts. A bronze belt secured the robes to his waist. Massive red draconic wings loomed behind him as his thin maw turned to me, shimmering light green flame within his eye sockets turned towards us, “Saint Vlad,” the large red Niten Dragon called out, “Come forth.”

Vlad moved away from me before he knelt before the large red Niten Dragon, “Archangel Raphael… I am honored to be healed by your power.”

Raphael took a large staff in his left hand and lowered it over Vlad’s shoulder.

I watched in shock as a pair of glowing green angel wings spread from the tip and a pair of shimmering golden serpents slithered around the staff, coiling up towards the angel wings as they met to face each other.

A gentle breeze filled the air as a soft green hue surrounded Vlad’s shoulder.

The glow vanished and Vlad rose to his feet, appearing rejuvenated, “I shall return to the battle then!”

A Middle-Eastern accent caught my attention, as I turned to see a man clad in black, wearing a bronze and gold battle mask, his piercing blue eyes looking out from behind it, “Captain Jeanne d’Arc is making headway. Vlad, I would suggest you join her and Olga’s forces quickly. I can feel the manifestation of Avarice has appeared on the battlefield,” he turned, pointing, “So I would suggest you turn your attention to it.”

Vlad nodded, “Avarice? Ha, you know me well, Prophet,” Vlad said, “I shall strike down those who seek greed over glory!” With that, Vlad rushed past me before I could say a word, leaping into battle once more.

I was about to follow him before I saw a massive angel slam down before the medical camp, it’s form so massive and bulky I barely saw the face of the creature.

But the scent, the aurora, I remembered well.

The Avatar of Gluttony, Astaroth.

“There’s my missing pet,” Astaroth said with a wide grin, his burning orange eyes focusing on me, “I care not what pacts you make with our Lord. You will always be mine.”

I raised my blades up before Raphael quickly stood before me, “Back unclean devourer!” Raphael called out, his staff glowing, surrounding the camp with a protective shield, “Go find your prey elsewhere!”

“But the injured are easy to feast off of!” Astaroth roared, taking a massive cleaver up from his side and swinging it onto the shield.

A burst of red and green sparks exploded as the cleaver and shield contacted one another.

Raphael staggered back slightly, the shield wavering.

The black figure who Vlad called Prophet moved forward, “Archangel, let me through. I shall take this villain’s ire as you and yours tend to the injured.”

Raphael turned to the Prophet, “You do not have to-”

“I must,” The Prophet said as he approached the shield, “Let me pass, Archangel. It is why Allah has sent me to your side once more. To face this foe.”

Raphael nodded, waving his hand, allowing an opening in the shield, “As always, you have my flame, Muhammad.”

A scimitar at the black-clad Prophet Muhammad’s side glowed green, the sheath emanating with a powerful fire.

I gritted my teeth, “I’m helping!” I shouted, rushing towards the opening.

Muhammad stopped me, turning to look down on me, “Are you undertaking this action, so you may sacrifice your very life to protect others? Or are you lashing out at this Fallen Angel for your own vengeance?”

I looked up to him, my hands clenching my daggers, “Yes, I have vengeance in me, okay? But I also want to make sure this monster doesn’t inflict what he did to me on anyone else!” I shouted.

Muhammad gave a chuckle and somehow I could see a grin under this battle mask, “Then let us fight side by side to shield our injured compatriots.”

Astaroth grinned wickedly to Muhammad and I, his cleaver over his shoulder, “The Prophet and my Pet… What a lovely couple you two make,” Astaroth’s eyes lit up, “She’s a bit old to be a bride of yours, is she not?”

Muhammad drew his scimitar, within a burning white fire which pulsed with a bright light green light at its fringes, “Keep thy wives far from your tongue, wretch! Lest I slice it from your festering maw!”

“My sincerest apologies…” Astaroth chortled as he gave a mocking bow, “Do allow me to make it up to you… How about a reunion, yes? Those who once followed you, oh devout Prophet Muhammad! It seems they somehow were misplaced and given into my care…” His grin only grew as his fiery eyes focused on Muhammad.

Dark figures began to claw out from the ground around us. Their bodies appeared burned and singed, some were missing limbs and hobbled up out of the ground. They all groaned, wheezed and appeared in pain.

“They had a most curious case of avarice… Seeking riches and desires in the here-after? Whomever promised them such things for… What was it?” Astaroth chuckled, “Ah, yes… Martyrdom!”

The dark figures lurched forward, reaching out towards Muhammad and I, some called his name, others babbled incoherently.

Muhammad slashed at the first figure who approached him, turning to face Astaroth, “Do not think I am to be taunted by you parading those who misinterpreted the words of Allah into words of violence! Vile corrupters of faith and scripture like yourself shall face the wrath of Allah!”

Astaroth lifted his hands up, causing the ground to shake as the figures changed shape, growing in size all around us. Their forms also shifted, their human traits slowly vanishing.

I watched as the once human creature who was slashed by Muhammad’s blade groaned, then began to hiss and shriek. Black fur surrounded his body as his face stretched into a short muzzle.

Blackened eyes now glared at Muhammad as its mouth opened, hissing and roaring, swinging at us with sharp claws.

Muhammad and I jumped back as its transformation finished with a white arc of fur over it’s chest and a long furred tail.

Other’s changed as well. One man grew into a horrific looking pig-like demon, glaring at us with hungry eyes.

Another man’s neck stretched out long and thin, growing snake-like, its jaws unhinging in a wide hiss as it transformed, the body remaining humanoid, though covered in dark brown and black scales.

Yet another man’s head seemed to not only stretch, but thicken, changing into a massive cat’s head with a furry mane of yellow and brown fur. Horrific predatory teeth loomed from the massive creatures now gaping maw as it salivated.

“Creatures of gluttony…” Muhammad whispered, “Tread carefully, undead maiden, for if you allow them to get a hold of you, I imagine they will devour you completely.”

“How fitting to be devoured by those whom you mislead, yes?” Astaroth pointed to Muhammad, “There He stands, the false prophet who promised you an afterlife of delights for your sacrifices! Show him a taste of your suffering!”

The pig-like creature gave a horrific squealing roar and charged towards us, along with the other monstrosities.

I dove to the side, barely dodging the snapping maw of the snake-like creature.

As I avoided the serpentine creature, the large cat-man roared, its maw nearly closing on my hand. I managed to escape by flipping my dagger up, so that the blade faced its pallet.

As the cat-like beast closed its mouth down, the blade pierced its flesh, causing the beast to withdraw.

As I was locked in battle, in my peripheral vision I could see Muahmmad was fighting for his life as well.

The pig-creature and the furred-demon were both attacking Muahmmad. The pig-creature let out a brutal ear-piercing squeal as it tried to grab Muhammad’s free hand as he came down and slashed at the furred-devil’s arm.

Before I could try to aid Muahmmad, the snake-man managed to grab my arm, its mouth opening wide and coming towards my face.

I gasped as its mouth clamped down over my head, and in a sickening and gut wrenching moment, I felt myself lifted upwards as its maw quickly stretched over my shoulders.

I was being swallowed whole!

I struggled as my arms were pinned to my sides and I could feel the creature’s hands grabbing at my hips, in an effort to force me further down his gullet.

I closed my eyes and twisted my blades to either side of its neck, gritting my teeth as I pressed them against its throat.

I still descended downwards, even as I felt the trickle of blood.

I pushed the blades harder against the inside of the throat I was rapidly sliding down, trying to cut-away at the muscles which were tightly constricted around my body.

A sudden snapping of tension happened as one of my blades finally pierced through muscle and skin and I was able to push my arm out completely!

I pulled my arm back, just as I felt my head pop into what was likely the main body and pressed the blade against the fresh tear I had made in its flesh.

I heard the sounds of its gut grumbling as I felt the creature fall over.

I reached out of the hole I had made and pushed against the shoulder of the writhing creature. I barely moved, the mouth had closed around my feet, and all of the muscle in this creature’s body was pushing me downwards!

I closed my eyes tightly and pulled my legs in deeper.

My arm was out but wouldn’t be for long. I had only one hope, though it was all or nothing.

As my legs moved deeper with me, and my shoulder slipped back into the creature, I put all of my effort into finding the top of the tear with my foot.

Just before my elbow slipped back into the snake’s body, my foot found purchase, and I pushed hard against the top of the wound.

Now the creature flipped and tried to push my body back inside.

With every ounce of strength in me, I stabbed the snake-man’s shoulder, holding on tightly to my dagger as I pushed my foot up.

I could hear ripping, gurgling and was surrounded by blood as my leg finally extended and I was pushed out of the now massive gash I had made in the creature’s neck by the same force that was originally trapping me inside.

I landed, rolled back and looked to the snake-beast as it writhed in pain, grabbing at the massive gash in its neck.

I took this moment to rush forward, charging the snake creature and slamming my daggers into its eyes, forcing them deeper in a blind rage.

I screamed as I pulled the daggers out and sliced the beast's head off before taking a step back.

My hands were shaking, blood and sinew covering my body from head to toe, as well as other bodily fluids I’d rather not mention. My eye was wide as I realized I was nearly devoured.

“This… This could be the day I actually die. Oh God, what would it all have been for if-?” Before I could even finish my frantic thought, the cat-like beast was upon me.

It crashed into me, pinning me down, its massive maw opened wide as it tried to bite down on my head.

I barely managed to pull my head to the side, causing the beast to get a mouthful of dirt instead of me.

I tried to roll away, but its clawed hands held my shoulders down firmly.

The cat-like beast spat the soil from its maw out and tried again.

I dodged once more, the creature taking another large chunk of earth out with it.

As it spat this out, I noticed a sick grin on its face.

My eye went wide as it pushed itself up higher, forcing my shoulders down and turned its massive jaws sideways!

I pulled my legs up, and pressed them into his stomach, forcing him up and over me as I did.

He roared in confusion as he flew over my head, his jaws snapping just mere centimeters from my face.

I kicked myself back up to my feet, just in time to see the head of the furred rat-like beast roll to my feet.

I glanced to see Muhammad, his mask partially broken, now facing off against the pig-demon.

I grabbed the head of the slain beast, which even decapitated, was still snarling and snapping in a frenzy.

The cat creature was on all fours now and began to charge at me.

I charged towards it, screaming as it lunged towards me, its clawed hands reaching out towards me, its fanged maw opened wide.

I shoved the head of the still snarling creature into the cat-demon’s mouth and slid under it, jamming my daggers into its gut. I used its own momentum to slice open its belly, pulling the daggers out only once I reached its groin.

The cat-creature crashed to the ground, slowly standing up as its intestines spilled from the wounds I inflicted.

The cat-creature turned to me, growling as its jaws crushed the head of the furred-beast I had shoved inside, before collapsing in a heap of blood and organs.

I looked up to see Muhammad drive his blade into the pig-demon’s throat, withdrawing as the creature collapsed at his feet. “...You have my pity, every one of you.”

“How noble,” Astaroth chuckled, moving towards us with his heavy cleaver, “As much as I have enjoyed watching you eviscerate the rabble… I am done toying with my food,” he grinned, “Today will be the fall of many of God’s soldiers, but it will be known that the Prophet was slain by none-other than Astaroth, the Lord of Gluttony!”

I ran to Muhammad’s side and readied my blades.

Astaroth glanced at me and laughed, pointing to me tauntingly, “Look at you! Standing before me with that façade! But I see you for what you are, my pet…” He burning eyes locked on me, “Your heart hammers in your chest, your hands can scarcely stop from shaking…The air is so thick with your fear, that I can taste it,” he took a deep breath, licking the edge of his cleaver as he did, “And the flavor is so very savory.”

I glared at him, doing my best to steady my hand.

Muhammad glanced at me, one gray eye surrounded by olive skin peeking out from the damaged mask. “You fought bravely and well, but I insist you leave this foe to me.”

“I will not let you go alone!” I shouted.

“I understand,” Muhammad said, placing his hand on my shoulder, “But I cannot let you face him as you are,” I could see the smile in his kind eye as he looked to me, “You have a greater purpose. It is not here that you fall.”

“I’ll help you kill him,” I insisted, “We won’t fall!”

Muhammad glanced at Astaroth and then to me, his smile fading, “You won’t, I swear it.”

With that a green flame surrounded me and Muhammad forced me backwards.

My back slammed into the shield around the medical tents and I found myself on the other side, “What?!” I shouted, “No!” I screamed, rushing to the shield and slamming my fist against it, “Let me out!”

Raphael’s clawed hand landed on my shoulder, “Hush, child…” Raphael said as he gazed upon the sight before us, “It is his way.”

I could hear Astaroth gloat, “You only stay her execution, Prophet.”

Muhammad lifted his scimitar, his eye fixed on Astaroth, “You speak of those who were misled. Those men you brought back to slight me, they did not understand what it is to be a martyr.”

Astaroth gave a bemused grin to Muhammad, “Enlighten me, Prophet,” he mocked.

“Giving one’s life for glory is not the way. Giving one's life up for others, must be done without seeking reward,” Muhammad’s eye was burning with a fierceness I hadn’t seen in another mortal man before today.

“And yet, you give rewards for such foolery,” Astaroth laughed, swinging his cleaver down against Muhammad.

Muhammad raised his scimitar to block, but barely did so, only managing to barely parry the mighty swing.

“Reward? Yes… For those who truly sacrifice with good intention, with pure heart and who face great evils and odds, there is reward! But to do so for a reward is not martyrdom, but zealotry! To make kind acts to gain favor is a hollow act!” He shouted, “True charity is that done in secret, true martyrs sacrifice because they will take the arrows to protect those who stand behind them!” Muhammad jumped up, his feet landing on the back of Astaroth’s cleaver as he began to run towards Astaroth, swinging for his throat, “A true martyr gives everything, no matter the cost, to protect those who cannot protect themselves!”

He swung at Astaroth’s throat and I watched as the blade crashed against the side of his neck.

Astaroth hardly moved, a grin on his face as Muhammad’s burning blade was pressed against his flesh, the surface mildly burned.

A trickle of blackened blood dripped from the wound.

“What a lovely speech,” Astaroth roared as his free hand grabbed Muhammad, “Did you really think you could defeat an Avatar of Sin, little Prophet?”

Muhammad was silent as Astaroth taunted him.

“No more words, hm?” Astaroth shrugged, “Very well then…” He grinned, “Die knowing your ‘sacrifice’ meant nothing!” Astaroth opened his wide mouth and tilted his head back, his throat widening along with his mouth.

I screamed, “No!” As I hammered my fist against the shield, “No! Please let me out!”

Astaroth flipped Muhammad upside down, likely so we could see his face as he was devoured.

I expected a stoic glance or even fear. What I saw, instead, was that single determined gray eye staring back at us from behind the battle-mask, almost as if he were smiling.

As we watched Astaroth drop Muhammad down his gullet, I noticed Muhammad’s eye begin to glow. Even as Astaroth swallowed him, as Astaroth’s throat bulged slightly, I could see a light emanating from within.

Astaroth’s mouth returned to a smaller shape as he turned towards us, “Now… To make short work of your pathetic shield-” Astaroth staggered for a moment, then let out a belch with a wisp of steam from his mouth. His eyes widened for a moment before his belly distended and burst in a massive explosion.

Astaroth was hurled back from us as the shield was peppered with blood, flesh and guts.

Amidst the scalded and burning flesh, I spotted a scimitar in the ground. I fell to my knees, my hand on the shield.

Raphael’s hand never left my shoulder, “He knew what he was doing.”

Before us, however, came a horrific sight.

The ground shook as Astaroth landed before us, his midsection showing nothing but his bare hip bones and spine, blackened blood and burning green flame wrapped around his bones and the flesh which hung loosely around his blown out body cavity.

Despite this, a blinding fire burned in his eyes, “You pathetic moral whelps! How dare you!” He roared with enough force where his foul breath even made it past the shield. “The Avatar of Gluttony shall not be humiliated by a mere prophet, saint, nor even higher angel!” Astaroth roared, swinging his massive cleaver down against the shield, “You will pay for this humiliation! You will suffer for it! Death will be a welcome release that you will beg for! I shall torment every last one of you until your spirits break and your minds collapse!” Astaroth raged on, his voice deep and shaking the very ground we stood upon.

I watched as the shield began to crack and bend under the relentless strikes that Astaroth levied against it.

“I cannot hold it much longer!” Raphael called out, “Retreat! Everyone! Save yourselves!”

I turned to Raphael, “No, not you too!”

Raphael turned to me, bemusement on his face, “It is our burden to bear, little one. Now, go!”

…

Madison Hill

Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

I cannot catch a break today.

Then again, today seems to be Armageddon, so is anyone?

I growled to myself as I hunkered down with another soldier, looking around the chaos of the battlefield. “Fuck,” I spat as I helped patch up the soldier who’s arm was rather battered and bruised. Her shoulder was dislocated, and I was getting ready to pop it back into place, “You ready?”

She took a wad of cloth and bit down on it, nodding to me.

I gave a firm push and felt a snap as she groaned in pain, “There you go, sunshine.”

She spat the wad of cloth out, “Fuck your ‘sunshine,” she rubbed her shoulder, “This is impossible…”

That was about when I spotted a smaller woman, certainly not a Penthesilean warrior, charging towards the line of demons on a brilliant white horse.

She was adorned with a Fleur-de-Lis on her chest and held a sword out ahead of her, an army of Penthesileans at her back.

I squinted, my mouth agape as her features, armor and somehow demeanor somehow sent a chill of recognition through me, “That… Cannot be…”

As she passed us, she caught our gaze and let out a battle-cry, “Pour Dieu, Pour la Patrie!”

I could only blink in shock as I grabbed my sword, a sudden surge of inspiration hitting me.

“Do you know that warrior?” The soldier I helped asked, standing next to me.

“I… I think that was fucking Joan of Arc,” I stammered, flabbergasted.

Walking up to us, much less ceremoniously, was another woman. A thick Slavic accent hit us first as she addressed us, “Indeed, that is Saint Jean d’Arc,” the woman scoffed.

I turned to see the face of the woman in question. A golden crown over a white cowl covering her hair and face, white and brown robes, and an aura of danger seemed to surround her, “And who the hell are you?”

The soldier next to me didn’t miss a beat, “Wait, if there are literal saints running around…” Her eyes went wide, “Are you St. Olga of Kyiv?!”

St. Olga turned to the soldier, a sly grin on her face, “Why yes, I am. You know of me, mortal?”

“You’re a fucking badass!” The soldier gushed, “I read about you in school!” The soldier nudged me in the ribs, “Don’t piss her off, Colonel, she’ll bury you! Literally!”

“I believe we have some more pressing matters, yes?” St. Olga asked, “Are you ladies able to fight? If not, I suggest you head to the medic tents.”

“I can fight!” The soldier next to me shouted, grabbing her sword with her good arm.

“Soldier,” I glared, “You need to-”

“Commander, please,” she looked at me with desperate eyes, “I can either go to the medical tents and call it quits for the day… Or I have a chance to die in battle alongside Jean of Arc and Olga of Kyiv,” Her eyes appear glassy, “Please… Do not take that honor from me.”

I sighed and shook my head, “Come on then,” I said as I picked up my gun and blade, heading out along with the other soldiers running after Jean.

“Oh my Goodness look at you! Running against demons alongside saints and such!” I could hear Eris’s voice sing-singing in my head, “Lucky gal!”

I closed my eyes, shivering, “May the chaos surround me and not consume me.”

“No promises,” Eris’s voice lilted, “But if you do survive, I have only one favor: Do find a woman named Juventas.”

“Who’s Juventas?” I asked.

“Pft!” Eris’s voice mocked, “Spoilers. You’ll find out.”

I flinched. Whenever Eris said “Spoilers” I often feared the outcome more than if she merely didn’t answer at all.

Which was probably why she enjoyed using the term so much.

Soon the line of soldiers hit a particular choke point, of sorts and I saw the line of soldiers now lead to a massive battlefield before the walls of the city.

I winced, “Oh, Empress Ragna’s gonna be pissed…”

St. Olga’s hands were ablaze as she walked towards battle, “The Wrath of God is far greater, I assure you.”

The soldier rushed alongside her, “Point me at something to kill, St. Olga!” She shouted in glee.

St. Olga grinned and touched the soldier’s blade, wreathing it in flame, “Go forth, warrior and slay these enemies of God in my name!”

The soldier’s eyes lit up and she rushed off into the fray.

I frowned, “Will that help her?” I asked.

St. Olga turned to me, “She was emboldened, was she not?”

I frowned, “So… No?”

“You’re a rather dower person, no? Has St. Jean d'Arc not shown you that inspiration is often enough to win the hearts and minds of the soldiery?” St. Olga asked, “As an officer, I’d expect you to understand the importance of a soldier's morale.”

“I know there’s no point in lying to my fellow warriors,” I explained, readying my sword.

St. Olga eyed my blade and lifted an eyebrow, “From a follower of Discourse, such an opinion is quiet confounding, young officer,” She said before she made her way into battle, thrusting out her hand at the occasional legion to cast flaming balls for holy fire at them.

I shook off her comments and ran towards the fray, sword drawn.

With several slashes I cut down a few demons, noting that they seemed to go down fastest when their heads were taken clean off.

As we continued, it seemed we made progress and I looked out to see a woman, clad in holy armaments stained with the blood of demons. Her face was covered in soot, ash and blood, her shoulder length hair matted with sweat as she looked at our forces, pulling her blade from a large beast she had felled.

She raised her sword up, her horse rearing back as she did, “Victoire pour Dieu!”

I was still shocked to see Jean of Arc, in battle

From the ash filled air a glowing yellow whip lashed out and wrapped around Jean’s forearm.

“Declaring victory before you’ve won the day, how very prideful of you, Maiden,” A seductive woman’s voice carried over the battlefield, causing an odd shiver to run through my body.

From the sky around us women and men with wings and cloven hooves landed, surrounding us.

They numbered in the hundreds at first, but soon we saw thousands.

These weren’t the simple grunt-like demons of various animal and human hybrids. These were more humanoid creatures. All wearing stained leather or mail armor, all of them looking immaculate and beautiful despite being on the battlefield.

I turned to see they were looking at me lustfully. I tried to ready my blades, spotting the men and women, all looking at our army in a seductive manner.

I saw a few warriors looking back.

“Don’t give into their temptation!” I shouted, “They’re demons!” I snapped.

A few soldiers snapped out of their lustful gazes, a few didn’t.

A melodious laugh came from behind plumes of blackened smoke, the same voice who taunted St. Jean called out “Did someone say Temptation?” The voice lilted.

Massive yellow wings exited the plumes of smoke before us. A large yet delicate hand grasped the handle of the yellow glowing whip wrapped around St. Jean’s forearm. A towering woman with massive blackened horns and burning yellow eyes loomed over us. She wore long leather armor, almost fashioned into a dress.

Sharp cheekbones emphasized ruby red lips over olive skin as her burning yellow eyes stared down at us with bemusement. A whip-like spaded tail playfully swung behind her under her armored skirt.

“Rare to see a virgin of your age and skill on the battlefield… I’d have thought by now you’d have found yourself a proper husband,” The giant succubus’s perfectly sculpted brow rose tauntingly, “Or is cock not to your taste?” She purred.

Jean pulled her arm, unable to free it, “I am a Bride of Christ and no one else!”

“Pity,” The large demoness said as she pulled her burning whip back, tugging St. Jean towards her, “You’re rather cute. I’d offer you a place in my harem, but I do feel you’d decline no matter the offer.”

St. Jean grabbed the sword from her bound hand with her free one and slashed down at the glowing whip wrapped around her forearm.

Melodious laughter filled the air as a second whip flew forth, wrapping around St. Jean’s horse, pulling it down to the ground.

St. Jean tumbled forward, rolling to the ground and tossing the limp whip from her forearm, her teeth gritted as she glared daggers at the towering Succubus, “I’ll put you down, in the name of God Almighty!”

A battle-cry was let loose from St. Jean’s lips as she charged forwards. As she did, I watched as a pair of glowing white lights surged from her shoulders!

They were like wings, casting her in a glowing white light as she charged towards the huge demoness. Every footfall she made glowed white-hot as she let out a battle-cry, leaping into the air, sword ready to strike.

The Demoness dodged to the left, letting St. Jean’s attack fall to the wayside. She continued to dodge St. Jean’s attacks as she pressed forward.

As she did, the other soldiers took St. Jean’s attack as their signal to begin to clash with the army of succubi and incubi that had surrounded us.

I paused as I watched The Demoness finally move to attack. Her whip lashed out and wrapped around St. Jean’s arm once more. As she did she stepped on the whip, tugging St. Jean onto the ground before her.

“How Rude of me, I ought to have introduced myself!” She said with a smirk on her flawless full lips, “I am Khairunnisa, Queen of the Succubi and Avatar of Lust,” with that she knelt down slightly before St. Jean, getting eye to eye with St. Jean, “And you, little saint, are outmatched for the likes of me."

St. Jean pulled hard on the whip around her arm, slowly getting to her feet.

Khairunnisa lifted an eyebrow, curiously, “Oh? You still have some fight in you?”

Jean continued to pull on the whip, Khairunnisa’s flawless lips turning into a bemused smile.

That smile didn’t last as St. Jean gave a thrust into Khairunnisa’s eye socket.

A burst of yellow flame blasted from Khairunnisa’s eye socket as she staggered back, “You horrible little mortal bitch! How dare you harm an Avatar of Sin!”

St. Jean lifted up her hand to the heavens and a bolt of lightning rocketed into her hands, solidifying into a spear with an ivory handle. “Praise be to God, Praise be His Glory and let the wicked fall at the sound of His name!”

Khairunnisa’s smile returned as she removed the sword, “Oh so serious little mortal girl…” Khairunnisa chuckled, “Though it seems you’re not a typical little mortal girl, are you?”

St. Jean readied her spear, “I am Saint Jean d’Arc of France and I will cast you out, foul temptress!”

“How cute,” Khairunnisa said, lifting her hand daintily to her lips with bemusement, as if she were a Queen laughing at the peasantry, “I’ll humor you, St. Jean,” Khairunnisa’s hands snapped out to either side of her, as glowing yellow whips filled each hand, “Show me what faith can do!”

Khairunnisa spun the whips around her, cracking them menacingly towards St. Jean.

St. Jean rushed to the side and started to charge forward, her spear at the ready. Even as she charged, fearlessly, a crack of Khairunnisa’s whip slashed at her face.

Still St. Jean charged onward, the wings on her back glowing brighter as she let out another warcry, thrusting her spear forward.

The spear thrust past Khairunnisa’s whips and I watched as the tip flew forward, clashing into Khairunnisa’s armor.

There it stopped dead, with a loud and ear piercing scrape, sending St. Jean off to Khairunnisa’s side.

As St. Jean stumbled past her, Khairunnisa cracked her whips cross St. Jean’s back!

St. Jean screamed in pain, turning quickly. But I could see blood dripping from her back. Still, her eyes were focused on Khairunnisa, filled with an unshakeable determination. “I’ve felt sharper stings of whips from the damned British!”

“Now that’s more damage than you’ve done this entire bout, little girl,” Khairunnisa hissed through her grin. As she spoke, the whips changed, no longer just glowing tendrils, now blades began to slink out from within the whips, “I know I can do far better than the British.”

“Hm, even in Hell, they have a reputation?” St. Jean said, lowering her stance, ready to strike.

“My previous Queen was British. She was Queen of the Succubi, of course, until I took her role,” Khairunnisa gloated, “Now I am Queen and she is just a beast.”

“You’re a monster!” St. Jean shouted, charging forward.

“Come girl, have another go! I’m sure the outcome will be different this time!” Khairunnisa laughed, spinning her now bladed whips around her, “At least one of us will be right by the time this is all over.”

St. Jean leaped into the air as Khairunnisa brought her right-most whip-blade down on her. St. Jean’s boot then landed on the side of one of the whip blades and she used it to launch herself towards Khairunnisa’s face, spear aimed at her eye once more.

This time Khairunnisa dropped her left whip in an instant and grabbed St. Jean’s spear by the shaft, stopping it before it could strike, “It’s amusing to me, you think my eyes are my weakness, child?”

St. Jean struggled to pull the spear from Khairunnisa’s iron grip.

“I am no monster,” Khairunnisa explained, her large yellow bat-like wings spreading wide, blasting dust and smoke away from her and St. Jean, “I am no demon! I am flawless beauty, I am Lust personified,” Khairunnisa grinned, “And you… You’re just a human, with a little sprinkling of holy spirit.”

St. Jean let go of the spear and reached into her waistband, pulling out a dagger and swinging it at Khairunnisa ‘s hand.

Khairunnisa's hand was stabbed, the blade barely sinking into the back of her hand as a trickle of blackened blood seeped from the wound before it evaporated into yellow mist. Khairunnisa twisted her wrist, the bladed whip wrapping around St. Jean’s leg and soon moving up to her neck!

I watched a blade press into St. Jean’s throat, a trickle of red blood slipping from the blade.

I tried to attack, but an Incubus slipped in front of me! I fought him off, but I couldn’t reach her!

To her credit, St. Jean spat in Khairunnisa’s face, “Fille du Diable…”

“Hm… It is true, anything said in French sounds so lovely, despite the venom behind it,” Khairunnisa said with a chuckle before she twisted her wrist again, the whip constricting suddenly, cutting St. Jean to ribbons..

“No!” I shouted, turning from the gruesome sight.

Out of the corner of my eye, as Jean’s body fell to the ground in several sickening thuds, I spotted the glowing white lights attached to St. Jean’s shoulders flicker out of existence.

“Kneel before me, swear to me your souls and I promise you an everlasting life of pleasure…” Khairunnisa purred as she stood and turned to us, “Deny my kind offer and wind up like this one. Dead and a virgin. How sad!” Khairunnisa gave a haughty laugh.

I heard a growl from behind me and turned to see St. Olga. Behind her a glowing set of small red wings burning. Her head wreathed in a fiery halo as her eyes glinted white. “Fucking Whore!”

“Another little saint,” Khairunnisa chuckled, “Want to join your friend?”

“I’m not just some little Saint, you overgrown slut! I am St. Olga of Kyiv,” her hands glowed with holy white fire as the ground shivered around her. A swarm of birds soon filled the sky before each began to glow and ignite, crashing down upon the unsuspecting Succubi and Incubi surrounding us. “But you have just slain a close friend of mine,” St. Olga’s eyes narrowed on Khairunnisa, “And I am the Patron Saint of Vengeance!”

She cast her hands out as a fresh burning flock of birds rushed towards Khairunnisa.

I picked up my blade and charged forward as well, before a white light washed over us and to my shock, we were no longer on the battlefield.

We stood now in a massive temple and I looked around befuddled and confused, “What?”

St. Olga let out a scream of frustration, glaring, “Who dares rob me of my vengeance?!”