Overlord And The Blue Citadel - Chapter 6

Neia was on her knees, sitting in front of the fire out in front of her beneath the mantle. They had talked for what seemed like hours, and it seemed, he was cementing the facts and clarifying her claims. It sounded like he wanted to deny he wasn’t within the realm of the Gods, as if everything had been an accident, he didn’t mean to come here. That look, that feeling, of loss was still in his eyes but it was becoming clearer and clearer that he wasn’t going to let that define him.

Her God was no longer alone. Her God was surrounded by the children of his lost and fallen friends, friends that formed a Fallen Pantheon. They had all created a part of this place that she now stood in. To think that they had created Angels, rather than summoned them. Only God could do such a thing. The more she learned, the more he told her and the more she told him… It gave her all she needed to believe in him as some sort of all-powerful being.

Yet this was also Heresy. The Paladin Order, their Temples of the Gods, her Kingdom would not accept him widely as the Holy being that he was. She clenched her jaw in secret as her eyes watched the flames flicker wildly in front of her.

Her cloak had since dried, and while the sting of betrayal still burned in her heart, she was now filled with a cause far greater than any Paladin’s she had met. She now wondered what each of those children were like, if they were humanoid just like him, or if they were monstrous like Pelleon.

The young blonde let her hands clasp together over her lap, letting her ears settle in on the howling of the wind outside. The fact that this place wasn’t a world on its own, it was strange how it emulated so much from the outside world.

She remembered her first winters, blizzards, how people in lesser villages and towns froze to death. Neia was small when she first saw her parents slaughter a house filled with undead, people who had frozen to death and later reanimated with a seething hatred for the living.

Perhaps they hadn’t deserved to be alive, for her neighbors had frozen to death and they had done nothing to help them. Selfishly they kept their blankets to themselves, their holeless ceiling, their glass windows, their insulated walls.

This fire symbolized what it was like to live, and outside the cabin, was what it was like to die.

Though her glare was intense, she could feel that Fenrir or Jakku, whoever he was… He wasn’t in the slightest put off by her appearance. Even if he put on a facade of callousness, a warm felt smile or an encouraging speech… He didn’t make a comment of her being murderous, crazed or even feral. Even though he was so high up, he respected her as she would respect just about anyone else of the same standing as herself.

He must’ve been used to being in the company of Gods and their children. Perhaps he was just confusing her with them, or he saw everything that was within the grasp of Justice as his. He had, of course, spoke of Justice, Paladins, how they should be and their power.

“I believe we’ve waited long enough,” his words broke through her thoughts like an icepick.

She nearly jumped out of her skin, startled, as she felt his hand go under her arm and help her to her feet. His strength was immersable, she felt no struggle to lift her once more, as his grasp was so gentle she could hardly tell what he was doing.

On her feet, Neia’s eyes met with the tall figure. He was eight feet tall, a giant compared to herself. Though she had seen many a giant, as they were employed by her people, and he was truthfully still dwarfed by them.

“Are we going to your throne room?” As his squire, she asked this with a polite and sturdy tone, but it had a decent softness to it, “Fenrir-sama.”

Fenrir nodded lightly to her question as he placed the hand he had used earlier onto her shoulder, close to where her neck connected with it. Feeling his bare hand on her skin, made her almost shiver.

It was warmer than any person she had ever felt. It was welcoming, it felt as if he was just embracing the slightest of touch. Her eyes wandered to his other hand which held his glove, then looked up to him curious.

Merely touching a peasant like herself so freely, she had never met a noble who would do such a thing. Awkwardly though, it felt like he was grasping at her heart now that she was under his influence.

Seeing the ring on his finger glow ever so slightly, that was when their surroundings suddenly changed. No longer were they in the secluded cabin of a winter wonderland. Instead, they were now standing in a giant colosseum, littered in statues of chess pieces.

No, this wasn’t just a colosseum filled with chess pieces. As she looked around at the surrounding area, she found that the entire floor was that of a giant game of chess itself. Her eyes widened in disbelief at the life-sized game that now surrounded them.

The structure of the colosseum consisted mainly of smooth black bricks that gave a light glistening green shine, a luster that was often seen in Adamantite. Not all too far above them overlooked the entire plane of the board.

Giving the chessboard another once over, it was clear that it was all made from the same material. Perhaps it wasn’t Adamantite? Perhaps it was something entirely different, but she wasn’t quite sure. Either way, it was breathtaking.

The next thing she noticed though was that there was no one here, at least not visibly.

“Welcome to the Final Floor! I trust you have treated my father well, Mortal!” Boomed a young woman’s voice and the fluttering of wings, soon enough a Seraph appeared. Blonde long locks of hair, gentle almond-shaped crystal blue eyes with subtle signs of bags beneath them, a small palm-sized black pointed crown upon the side of her scalp. What Neia saw now hovering in front of the throne, was a slender and pale looking woman. A single pair of superficial black wings displayed from the base of her lower back.

It had to be Lucifael, the Seraph in which Fenrir had named. Her beauty was stunning, even for her own eyes. Neia took in the simple design of her dress, black secondary layer over a white underdress. Her stockings were made of black wraps that were undone around her dainty bare feet. Her form was the epitome of elegance, it felt as if she was staring at the center of the universe.

She was meeting a true angel? An Angel that was close to God? Her eyes moved to Fenrir as he said nothing, but a smile was there printed across his lips. This smile spoke legions as she looked forward once more.

Two portals opened up at either side of the Angel, Pelleon appearing from one of them, and another angel emerged appearing to be entirely composed of over several dozen wings. Her mouth nearly dropped open as she needed to very much correct that observation.

This one had to have been Nidrennyius, the Ophan, they were all counselors of the First Sphere… Creatures that had never even been thought to have existed!

Nidrennyius was a giant black orb surrounded by purple and blue flames, the orb was about the size of her torso alone! The Ophan had a bright pink iris and hot pink sclera, its pupil was an upside-down black triangle, the eye itself located in the center of the sphere. In a way, the dozens of wings that sprouted out from surrounded him reminded her of a flower.

Though she wasn’t quite sure whatever the Ophan could be classified as, be it male or female. But she was quickly aware that the singular eye was not alone. At a closer inspection, even from the ground below, there were thousands of smaller eyes of varying sizes which stared down at them silently.

“This is the Squire?” The Ophan finally spoke, his voice overlapping itself supernaturally.

“Yes… Fenrir-sama’s personal Squire.” As Pelleon replied to his fellow Guardian, it was clear he had heard their conversations prior to appearing back in the snow biome on the second floor.

“Interesting…” Nidrennyius mused as he studied her from afar, his eyes moving to the Supreme Being and then back towards the human creature. “Are you sure it is a Squire? Subaran-sama would’ve most definitely paired him with such… Hm… Prey.”
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Lucifael blinked looking over towards the Ophan, her fellow Angel and raised a brow as she whispered, “Are you trying to ship my father with a mere Squire? Hmph!”

“Lucifael-sama… He is touching her bare skin… His glove removed.” Pelleon whispered with his naturally raspy voice, smiling creepily. It seemed he agreed with the Ophan’s observation.

Then that was when both Pelleon and Lucifael both paused and looked to the Ophan created by Subaran, one of the Supreme Beings of the Citadel.

Lucifael crossed her arms over her chest. “Nidrennyius-dono… Did you just say prey? Knights such as our Lord and Creator do not eat their Squires or their underlings.”

If the Ophan had a mouth, it would most definitely be grinning almost manically.

Seconds later a number of other portals began to open all around the colosseum, each one being opened by someone of high caliber skills and power.

Neia’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she watched an Arch-Devil, Beelzebub, a towering humanoid beast of twelve feet tall come shambling onto the board. His overall structure looked almost like an entirely human muscle, made of rocky alabaster grey material instead of flesh. He wore a horrific and terrifying face that caused her heart to quicken in fear, displaying expertly sculpted jagged death and a pair of horns upon the top of his head. Those of his were glowing like embers.

With him, he brought his own light, as his hollowed torso lined by his ribs was filled with bright yellow and red crimson flames. There above his head was a black halo hovering. Down his back, along his spine, was producing bony structures that appeared to defensive spikes of a monster.

What caught her off guard though was what held in his hand. In that hand of his was something she could only describe as his very own beating heart, but he was wielding it like a weapon.

This fiend served a God, no matter how unholy it seemed, it was there and serving Fenrir.

A black-winged crow harpy gliding in freely from above, her talons glistening from the simulated stars from the sky above, having ejected herself out of a portal at high speed. “Raaah! Raah~! Nyriane, Champion of Darkness, Queen of Harpies! Raaah~! Here! Here!” Her face seemed to be the embodiment of innocent and youthful beauty, she wore nothing by brown burlap rags that hardly covered her hips or her shoulders. Despite her slender form, she was no doubt a mature adult and had since stopped growing. The Harpy had big blue, a sharp jawline, and soft delicate features. It was as if she was designed to lure men to their deaths.

It felt like the creature would soon lure her forward as well if it weren’t for Fenrir’s hand on her shoulder. Even as she felt its gaze on her as it flew, circling overhead, she found it hard to pull her attention away from it.

Next was a pair of black and white cat folk entering from another portal, holding hand in hand as they did. They had a dubious appearance, they were tall and strangely lithe. Each step they made, had no sound, and as they moved it was hard to keep her eyes focused on them.

They were Ninjas, masters of disguise and tricksters. They used illusions and tricks in order to remain untouched and quick to take down their opponents. Though she couldn’t see their eyes, she could feel them on her, scrutinizing every bit of her human body, as if they wished to take it.

The very sensation made her shiver.

“Pay heed! Anima has arrived!” Shouted a self-absorbed tone of woman other than Lucifael, dragging Neia’s attention over towards a new figure that had appeared.

A Valkyrie came strutting into the center of the room. She wore tight-fitting blue, almost black, armor with skirting down her backside. In her scabbard was a long sword that appeared to be derived from the body of an automatic rifle, a weapon she didn’t recognize.

Anima then turned and looked towards Neia, before freezing seeing the iconic feral gaze. “Such Rude eyes this one has!” She shifted onto one hip as a hand on her hip, looking over the Squire.

Neia smiled awkwardly seeing what looked like another human taking a gander at her. It was as if this one was picking out all of her imperfections without saying a word about it. She ignored the comment as it seemed Fenrir didn’t mind them.

“Don’t pick at my Squire, Anima. You all exist because of me, and so does her continued existence, she will be no different from you… My Creations, Children of the Gods… Children of Hel.” Fenrir commanded not just the Valkyrie, but all of those present and to be present, with his voice.

Unanimously they united around his words alone.

“Of course, Fenrir-sama…” Anima immediately bowed her head, before silently joining the two lithe cat people who were standing off in the corner of the Colosseum where they’d talk amongst themselves.

A snaking body of blackened brimstone and flames came slithering into the room, its upper body held high. A Primal Fire Elemental, named Helibrimin, towered over the many creatures within the gathering. His chest sculpted in stone, as was his head which showed vague impressions of eyes and a mouth. His hands were clawed with massive swords.

It was clear that this creature was not of a holy or an unholy element. He was clearly that of pure flames! Just like all the others, though she couldn’t discern any expression of his, it was curious.

The next sensation confused her greatly. It felt as if something was now standing on the bare skin of her left shoulder. Nothing was that small, right? Neia’s head slowly turned to the side, her peripherals being greeted by a pleasant glow of phosphorescent blue wings.

It was a tiny girl with a white dress, about the size of her whole hand, with long blonde locks reaching down to the backs of her legs. Neia could only gasp soundlessly as a fairy was standing there, staring back at her with a soft smile across her lips.

“Ah, Hello Lemonbite,” Fenrir chuckled seeing the fairy standing on his Squire’s shoulder, examining Neia’s face closely as if inspecting her for any imperfections.

“Fenrir-sama,” the fairy playfully stuck her tongue out at the massive Supreme Leader.

“Is she a…”

“Yes, she is a Fairy… A Fairy Queen to be exact.” Fenrir said as he reached over and pat the top of the Queen’s head with his finger. “The Crow Harpy above is the Queen of her race as well, she is the Champion of Shadows.”

“Ah… Fenrir-sama, so there are more of their people here within the Citadel?” Neia asked curiously, as it seemed there were a number of non-human beasts here, even heteromorphic or demihumans.

“Yes, depending on which floor they rule their particular species presides.” He apprised her of the information she sought to obtain as he watched Lemonbite flutter her wings. Soon enough the Fairy Queen was on up to the top of Neia’s head, where she nested herself.

Neia stood awkwardly still, facing forward as the Queen was seated in her hair.

That was when the last guardian entered the room. It was like watching a pillowing steady stream of black smoke flood into the room. It didn’t fill the room though, it collected itself into a mass that could only be defined as the embodiment of Shadows.

“What is… That…?” Neia exclaimed as she could see dozens of smoky hands protruding from an incorporeal mass of darkness. Sharp white blazing eyes smilingly glared down towards her with their crescent forms. It reminded her of the particles which were seeping from him in his Nightmarish Werewolf form. She felt as if she’d die if she even looked away.

“Archona, the Shadow of Death, an ancient spirit and one of the oldest here aside from Lucifael.” Fenrir informed just as Gravelyn stumbled in through a portal.

Her wings were retracted into her back as she was dressed in her crimson armor, that matched her hair. Those blue eyes of hers narrowing on the young woman beside Fenrir, then looking to the Supreme Being. “Greetings, Fenrir-sama… I saw you down on the ground floor, it is good to see you were alright. Please, forgive me for not stepping in against the Apostates who attacked your sanctuary.” Almost immediately Gravelyn dropped to one knee in a bow of fealty, asking for obtainable forgiveness.

“It is quite alright, Gravelyn, you may rise. Your father would be proud of you, as your heart and sense of duty are in the right place,” Fenrir gestured for her to rise as he asked her to do so, a faint smirk across his lips as he turned to everyone else as they began to gather.

“This is Neia, my Squire as you’ve heard!” Fenrir announced, introducing her to everyone at once.

Lucifael was the first to come landing in front of them. She was about the same height as Neia herself, if not an inch taller. Forcefully taking the girl’s hand, the fallen Seraph grinned cockily. “Welcome to Hel, don’t let the frozen hearts of the Draugr bother you too much.”