Book 7, Chapter 63 - What We Need Are Miracles (1/2)

Book 7, Chapter 63 - What We Need Are Miracles

Belial’s mood could be no lower.

He bowed under the weight of his yolk. There was no escape, for if he tried neither god nor demon would show him mercy. Gloomy though the outlook was, if he stayed there was at least the chance to fight.

Belial could not for the life of him understand why the Elder of the Second Seal would bow to a lowly human. Whatever the reason, he had no choice but to kowtow to Cloudhawk. They had a larger enemy on the battlements, that had to be his focus.

When he returned to his oasis in the Cursed Desert, Cloudhawk was busy with some project or other. He was not surprised when Belial presented himself and pledged his service.

“Now that you’ve realized the virtues of resistance, I hope you understand that I can’t tolerate desertion.” Cloudhawk graciously accepted this new subordinate from Wolfblade. He didn’t need to ask anything, he knew the demon had a thousand years of experience in crafting relics. That was all he needed to know.

But there was something that occurred to him. “Ah, by the way. I need to see something – the Black Heart.”

Cloudhawk had experienced the power of Belial’s indentured servants. It went without saying that Belial himself was a coward, but his oasis was packed with over a thousand Eternal. Many of them were demonhunters Belial had ripped from the Elysian lands over a thousand years.

A fair number were accomplished men and women who were deluded into pursuing immortality by Belial’s poison words. Others were pilfered from prisons by the demon’s network of helpers. The result was an army of powerful – if nihilistic – soldiers. With the advantage of their undying bodies they made for quite a formidable force.

They were the most powerful tool in the Elder’s arsenal, and the one he’d spend the bulk of his efforts to create.

How was Belial able to control this army? Through the Black Heart. It was a relic that bound the Eternal to whoever held it. Whoever bore the Heart stood at the fore of an immortal host.

Wolfblade commanded the ever-reaching Hand of Gehenna, so had no interest in Belial’s Black Heart. However, such an army couldn’t be left under the artisan’s control. His loyalty was too much in question to allow him such a tool.

Full of reluctance, Belial obeyed. What he presented was not a beating heart but rather a staff. It was around two meters long and affixed to its three-pronged crown was a black jewel. Crimson lines wormed their way through the fist-sized stone.

“The Black Heart controls the Eternal,” Belial explained. “Whether in action or will, the staff can empower or inhibit their powers. The Black Heart gives you powerful allies.”

Belial’s greatest regret was that he had been unable to exercise his full strength. If he’d had the chance to face Cloudhawk and his allies while commanding an army of undying, the situation would have turned out very differently. He doubted they would have even been able to enter his stronghold.

Unfortunately, Cloudhawk had arrived as Belial was trying to force his way through the Source. It was too narrow a space for his army to be of any use. The loathsome human had robbed him of any advantage.

Anyway, it was too late for regrets.

Cloudhawk took the Heart and looked it over. He could feel the power in it. How would he choose to use it? By handing the relic directly to the leader of the Eternal, Husk. “As promised, the Black Heart belongs to you. From now on the Eternal answer to no one.”

Belial could not believe what he was seeing. Was he insane? He was willing to just give away the Black Heart? Did he not realize he needed all the help he could get? Instead he cast aside countless years of Belial’s hard work.