Arrival of the Demon Prince (Marco)

[Anatoly Khlystov]

Arc City, Here I am

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Holy hell! I can’t believe that I’m finally going to Arc city. And here I was thinking that I was going to rot in Russia for the rest of my life. Honestly, I was beginning my slow descent into insanity, knowing that something big was happening all the way across the Pacific, while I was stuck back in the Mother Country. But guess whose luck finally turned around? This guy's!

The big shots back home decided that there was nothing else I could learn over there, so where do they send me? Arc city, that’s where! Where else can I earn my metaphorical, demonologist Boy Scout badges than in the city where the greatest flipping supernatural war was currently being waged? Here I come Arc city, you better be fucking ready for me.

---

Airport Road - Outskirts - 5:30 pm

The road between Cauthon International Airport and the actual city had relatively little traffic on a normal day. Cabal city wasn’t exactly the most amiable vacation destination, and mostly the airport existed because there were plenty of rich bastards in the city who needed a place to condescendingly park their private aircrafts…or so it was said. This particular day however, although to be more accurate it was nearing twilight, the road seemed to have an unusual amount of cars speeding down its length.

The vehicles were moving freely, quite fast actually. It could actually be described more easily as a parade yanked out from some cliché mafia flick. The entourage was led by two men on motor cycles; they wore light armored black motorcycle gear, the visors of their helmet tinted to hide their faces. Each escort had a holster with a handgun under their arm, and a sub-machine gun was strapped unto the sides of their bikes. Following the bikers were large SUVs that looked like they could easily plow through barricades and much smaller cars (not to mention people); Sandwiched between those two cars was a ZIL-41047 limousine. The sleek and elegant car obviously belonged to someone of importance, it lacked flags on the hood to indicate that its occupant was a dignitary, but the iron worked crest fixed over the grills was an immediate indication of who was. The crest was simple enough, an upturned demon head enclosed around a pentagram, embossed on the demon’s forehead was the cross symbol of the Russian Orthodoxy. Looking at the rest of the escort, one could see the same sign emblazoned on the shoulders of the bike riders, and stickers on the corners of the SUV windshields. Although most would consider the crest a bit gauche, it was respected in the business world. In the supernatural underworld, if it wasn’t respected, it was feared.

Inside the limousine, Anatoly Vsevolodich Khlystov, sat at the right most corner of the seat, resting his head against the heavily tinted glass window. The glass was cool against the skin of his forehead, and the tint combined with the already darkening day cast a shadow across the land outside. It was mostly grasslands cleared out from the forest on either side of the wide road, but Tolya could easily see where the trees started again. Not for the first time, he wondered why his father bothered to have the car tinted, yet emblazoned their family sigil on the grills for everybody to see. Tolya didn’t like the tint; it always made him think the day was later than it actually was. He finally straightened up and looked ahead at the television screen that also functioned as the divider between him and the chauffeur. The screen wasn’t turned on so Tolya could see his reflection across the dark surface. Despite his age, he looked every bit the mafia prince that he was. He was young man. Tolya would argue that he was already a man, but he was actually just seventeen years old and technically still a boy. Close, but not yet. He was quite handsome, a lot of people said so (they actually used the word adorable most of the time, but he detested that) and was dressed in a form-fitting cold grey suit with very-thin black vertical pinstripes. He had leather shoes initially, but had discarded those in favor of dark red Supras. His fur lined black coat lay in a rumpled mess to his left, this wasn’t Russia anymore and Tolya had o admit he could start enjoying this warm weather. His hair looked weird, having his head pressed against the window like that had flattened it against his scalp; he combed it back with his fingers in a vain attempt to tame it, but it did little good.

With a sigh, he decided to stop bothering with his hair and leaned forward and took a glass from the miniature-cocktail bar inside the limousine.

“I hope you’re only going to fill that with milk.” came a voice, from the opposite end of the seat. The voice was twinkling and bell-like, with just the right amount of sultriness about it to melt a man where he stood. The owner of the voice didn’t even look up from the folder she was reading, on her right were more folders arranged in a tall stack. Like her voice, she was stunning; a perfect mix of features from Chinese and French heritages, Sophie Yaofu wore her own business suit in an extremely deep wine-red. The suit clung to her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination; a snowy white lace shirt peaked from the lapels of her jacket. Her stilettos were made of black straps with heals that looked like it would have an easy time going through a man's head. Her lustrous black hair hung freely over one shoulder, as she idly tapped her lips still reading the contents of the folder and still not looking at Tolya.

Tolya pouted his lips and took an infantile expression as he let the han
d that was going for the Vodka move towards the aluminum container for the milk. He poured the liquid into the glass, hesitating to fill it half-way since technically a White Russian needed half and half. Tolya spared a moment to consider, and then decided to fill the glass all the way to the brim before practically throwing the aluminum container back on the bar. He leaned back against his seat muttering indistinguishable Russian phrases into his glass.

“Don’t sulk Tolya…it doesn’t suit you.” said Sophie, as she picked up the next folder and began to read through it. She was his father’s secretary, and was beyond fervent when it came to work, and following instructions it seemed.

“I don’t understand why I need to stop drinking now. I’ve been drinking for more than half my life already.” complained Tolya over the rim of his glass. He began taking little sips of the milk only to make weird faces afterwards; he was obviously not used to the taste of milk without vodka anymore.

“Neither do I, but you’re not in Russia anymore. You're four years shy of being able to drink legally here, and your father explicitly mentioned that you should follow the law.” Replied Sophie, sounding as if this was not the first time this conversation had happened.

“So he has trouble with me drinking before I’m legal, but absolutely no problem with me shooting down a guy in cold blood”

“That's exactly right,” replied Sophie mechanically “If you have issue with it, speak with your father. We’ll be arriving at the city soon enough. Now drink your milk and be quiet.”

Tolya pouted his lips even further than he already had. “You sound as if you’re my nanny.”

Sophie finally pulled her attention off the folder and turned to look at the teenager. As she did, her form seemed to shimmer, as if through a heat haze, and in the fraction of a second the beautiful Chinese-French woman was replaced by a tiny but stern looking old Russian lady, in a harsh high-necked governess' dress with her iron-grey hair pulled up in a tight bun. Her face was severe, demanding no-nonsense. Tolya remembered that face from his childhood, he also remembered it under the name Ilya.

“It wasn’t too long ago that I was your nanny Tolya. It wasn’t too long ago that I had to spank your bottom when you were throwing tantrums” her voice had changed into an old woman’s voice with an extremely strong Russian accent. “You’re not throwing tantrums now are you?” she asked, arching her eyebrow so high it almost seemed to touch her hairline.

Tolya snorted and turned away with furrowed eyebrows refusing to give an answer. The truth of it was, Sophie wasn’t even human. She was a demonic slave (succubus specifically) employed by Tolya’s father. Apart from that, part of her service had been to nanny Tolya growing up, when he didn’t need her anymore she resumed her work as the secretary of Tolya’s father…needless to say she was a whole lot easier on the eyes now. Tolya heard Sophie give out a little chuckle, her voice changing half-way through the cackle of an old woman back to the beautiful chuckles of a maiden. Tolya suspected that should he turn, he'd see the modelesque Eurasian again. Well that was the end of that argument. Tolya had no trouble remembering the times when he had been spanked, and he just had to say that demons possessed superhuman strength and were quite liberated with its use.

But then again, he had grown a lot since then, not just physically but also in his magical skill. Should Sophie try to bend him over her lap and spank him right now, he could probably employ ten different curses to shrivel up her essence into nothingness.

But her words were really more of a disciplining method rather than an actual threat. And Tolya actually liked Sophie a lot, demonologists were never supposed to form attachments to their demons, but he had always viewed Sophie as a special case. As far as he knew, she was fanatically loyal to his father, and for some reason genuinely cared for him as well. A caring demon? If Tolya didn’t see it sitting across from him in the car with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it.

He downed the rest of his milk in one go, perhaps the action would help him pretend that there was some Vodka inside the glass. It didn’t though. Either way, he was finally at Arc City. He had only heard stories of it before, but then it was recently decided that Tolya could learn nothing more in Russia and had to go where his father had gone. Tolya finished the last drop of milk and stared down at the empty glass. He had to say he was terribly excited; after all, Arc was a city at war. He should have been terrified, but Tolya wasn’t in the slightest. On the contrary, he thought that it was going to be an awfully big adventure.

“If you want me to stop treating you as a little boy, Anatoly, maybe you should wipe that milk mustache off your face.” Said Sophie, with a jeering tone to her voice.

Tolya had his face contort in anger before he could control himself. Suddenly those curses seemed extra-tempting, especially number six. Yeah number six would show Sophie to shut her smart mouth

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[Marco Stregoni]

Be prudent in striving for perfection for one who aims for it in everything achieves it in nothing

[STYLE=text-align: justify; border-bottom: 10px solid #4d4d4d; padding: 10 0 10 0;]In Arc city, a single rumor uttered spread like wildfire, creating a thousand variations with each retelling as improbable as the last. The rumor in question? The coming of a Khlystov. Of course those who had potere reale (real power) could separate speculation from fact and with the Stregoni being one of many groups who had real power; they were able to obtain the information they needed.

The objective was simple: capture the kid. Preparation was imperative for this to work. Not only would security be intense, but the target too was highly adept in his art, add to that that this would escalate the Stregoni-Khlystov skirmishes to new heights. But the Don saw an opportunity, many in fact with the coming of the so called “Prince of Demons.”

In comes Emilio Vespucci. For many belonging to the Stregoni Mafia, the name would be familiar. He was one of the more aggressive Capos in the Mafia, yet he was also one of the most successful Capos. He had the mindset of the Stregoni, always wanting to work with the most efficiency so that nothing would go to waste. Add to that with his mix of ruthlessness, tenacity and skills that he got in the Mafia as well as being a former captain in the Italian army, all of these has made him the best candidate to lead this particular operation.

And for this operation, the Don wanted the best.

Emilio was standing in a small clearing with several other people. Those people weren’t all his soldati (soldiers). They were split into numerous groups and spread throughout the forest. He glanced at the soldati who were with him now. Some were doing last minute spells and adjustments to their equipment, a mage was applying a barrier spell to a fellow soldier, some were softly mumbling something (if it were spells or prayers Emilio didn’t know). Everyone looked calm, but that atmosphere was far from it. And who could blame them?

The Don had made it quite clear that while Emilio and his soldati would be an integral part of the operation there were still a lot of things the Don started stirring. As far as Emilio had remembered, one of the Capos was assigned to stir up some trouble with the werewolves and vampires and to make the two groups start fighting again while keeping the Stregoni clear. An additional requirement was that a fight break out between the two in this very forest. The Don set that Carnivale was to start today. So many things were moving today.

He shook his head; he was content with serving as Capo. The higher you go, the larger the scope of the job. No he didn’t want that, he was just happy with managing his own set of soldati.

“Alessandro,” he said, his low, raspy voice cut through the silence.

As Alessandro looked at Emilio, an eyebrow went up in question.

“The barriere (barriers)?”

“Si (Yes), I already cast one on everyone,” Alessandro looked around, counting the people that were there, “yeah, everyone has one already. Hey have you seen – EMILIO!”

BANG!

The cracking sound of a gunshot surprised everyone. Everyone just looked at Emilio and his…target, Donatello. Emilio actually cracked a small smile.

“Buon lavoro (Good work) Alessandro,” he said. Before walking and picking up the bullet that ricocheted off the barrier. It was crushed as if it smashed against a concrete wall. The bullet that he used was an enchanted one, magically tampered so it had much more concussive force. That and with him shooting at near point black range, the barriers Alessandro put up were good.

“Where’s Marco?” Alessandro suddenly asked. Everyone looked around looking for the other Italian.

Well it seems that the regazzo (boy) disappeared…again. Well nothing unusual, Emilio had worked with Marco before, if one could call that work.

“Never mind him, he’ll show up when he needs to,” he turned to Alessandro, “start the heptagram .”

As Alessandro was drawing the heptagram, Emilio looked up. The moon was there, it was hardly visible in the pale blue sky, but it was there. He smiled and prayed to the goddess. Now where was Marco? He knew the boy had a habit of just disappearing, but everything was going to start soon. Very soon.

---

Black poppy. Mandrake root. Smilax. Cyprus leaves.

In the bare earth, there was a heptagram drawn with chalk. At the center of this heptagram was a wooden bowl. It was filled with salt water and an alcohol based liquid which enabled fire to burn on the liquid’s surface. There was a large candle set behind the bowl and seven smaller candles placed at the seven corners of the heptagram.

Marco Leonzio Stregoni, wearing a dark gray suit and an off-white long-sleeved button down polo shirt and a pair of black leather Italian shoes, was kneeling down and preparing the herbs.

Black poppy. Mandrake root. Birds of Paradise. Cyprus leaves.

A black poppy? A powerful herb to use, no? said a voice inside his head.

Marco didn’t even cock his head in the direction of the voice, he knew who it was already. Well it’s a big day, he…thought. With a Lares, conversations can often be confusing for one who isn’t used to it yet. Most of the time, especially with your own Lares, it was telepathic and we all know how random the mind gets.

"Dall'aria, dammi fuoco (From the air, give me flames)", Marco muttered. The small fire suddenly appeared in each of the candles.

"Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers, maiden most perfect, lady of light, with a noise of winds and many rivers, with a clamour of waters and with might…” Marco continued the ritual. It was a ritual for protection, asking Dianna to watch over him and protect him.

Once done, he packed up and moved towards the edge of the forest. The sun was setting behind him, and the trees were forming shadows beyond him. The road was before him, it was going to be a battlefield within the hour. He looked up. At the pale blue sky, the moon was visible. It was a pale version of itself since that sun had not yet disappeared, but it was there nonetheless. He smiled at that, perhaps the others would find some sort of assurance with its appearance.

“The others don’t know how to react with your calmness” the Lares suddenly said.

Marco just shrugged, “Well, it’s not as if anything can change if I stress out.”

“He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves, and sharpens our skill. Our nemico (enemy) is our helper,” the Lares said in an assuring tone.

“I think it’s better if you tell them that,” Marco said, then paused. “Fons, can you change form during the fight?”

“In order to look more incospicuo (inconspicuous)? Or have that image of a young man who looks like a speallweaver?” the Lares replied with a mischievous manner to it. With that, the air around him seemed to be shimmering and in an instant the lion disappeared and was replaced with a young and rather muscular man. He had short brown hair and was wearing a navy blue suit, with a pale blue long sleeved polo underneath that. His pants were also of the same navy blue shade and he was wearing black Italian shoes.

Marco nodded in approval, “Well yeah. Wait, how old are you supposed to be?”

“Around your age, I think. I never paid much attention when I was actually alive, but I was in Firenze at this time, courting a certain bella donna, she was rather – “

Suddenly, it was as if an ice had been dropped in his stomach. That nervous feeling as if he was seconds before performing on a stage. It was going to start now. He didn’t know why, maybe it was his powers telling him something, but he could just feel that something was going to happen. Soon.

“Let’s talk about that later, right now we have a Khlystov to capture.”

The two hurried back to the clearing.

“Ah there you are,” Emilio said, “just got the call, they’re here. And who is that?”

“It’s Fons,” Marco saw Alessandro was busy muttering a spell, the others too were preparing for something, Marco stepped into the heptagram as well. Marco had his atheme ready, his guns were loaded and he had enchanted bullets ready as well.

The heptagram suddenly started to glow softly. It was designed such that each group was protected by their own heptagrams and at the same time the heptagram concealed their magical auras so at least they would catch the Khlystovs completely by surprise.

Marco looked at the road and suddenly he saw the parade of cars. The motorcycles, the SUVs, the limo. They were here. Suddenly, the tires of the SUVs were suddenly set aflame, yes, the handiwork of one of the groups. A second later Marco could see spikes of earth raise from the ground, trying to impale the motorcycles.

They had been through this numerous times, Marco closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he started reciting a spell.

“Ora! (Now)” Emilio said.

He opened his eyes and concentrated on the limo. The mages in front of him cast a spell and the limo was suddenly thrown into the air. Marco stretched out his hand and a magic circle suddenly materialized in front of it, as he closed his fist, the limo started compressing as well, as if a giant hand was crushing it.

It wasn’t before long Emilio pointed at it with an atheme and recited a spell. The limo was hit with a very powerful concussive force that sent it flying.

---

In the city, in the Carnivale di Venezia, fireworks started shooting. The Don was with his wife, admiring the fireworks from the upper floors.

“It’s begun hasn’t it?” she asked her husband in a grave tone.

“Yes, il mio amore (my love)." Many things have started tonight.

[Anatoly Khlystov]

Tolya had taken to leaning his head against the glass window again. Milk made him sleepy, not groggy like alcohol would have, but it was a nice warm feeling at the pit of his stomach that kind of made the prospect of curling up under a blanket that much more tantalizing. He watched through the tinted window and then the moon suddenly caught his eye. It was not yet night, not by thirty minutes or so at least, but the moon was already visible, even though it was only in its waning stages. Tolya’s finger went to the button of the window and he pressed down, causing the tinted piece of glass to descend.

“What are you doing? Stop playing with the window.” said Sophie in the same tone, a person would use on somebody they knew was up to no good. Although, some part of it also seemed resigned to the fact that whatever Tolya wanted to do, he was going to do it anyway.

Tolya shrugged her off with a click of his tongue. The tint was messing with his perception of the colors of the sky, and he needed to see and make sure of something. Searching the slowly darkening expanse of the sky, he brought his gaze to the general area where practice and study told him it would be. Sure enough, what Tolya was looking for flashed before him in pale-red, barely visible enough to see: it was Mars. Tolya had to admit that he preferred spell casting and potion making to divination, but his tutors always told him to never underestimate the power of knowledge about the future. Originally, Tolya gave about as much fuck for divination as he did for the growing prevalence of feet fungus in Bengal. However, after that incident when had ignored Bifrons saying that the positions of Saturn and Mars was trying to warn him of an impending danger, almost caused him his life, Tolya was forced to rethink his position.

Divination wasn’t always exact, more often than not it was just a bunch of clues and signs that the mage had to watch out for and interpret. The moon was an attention grabber for Tolya, it was usually a sign for safe travel but seeing the moon and seeing it fade seemed to announce that it offered no protection today. Then of course, there was Mars off to the distance. Mars had saved Tolya’s life before, so he put quite a bit of trust in it. Mars was a preservative against the attacks of dangerous enemies. Its influence keeps at bay the danger of death in battle or of violent death by torture. There it was in the sky, not really where and when it was supposed to be, but the blinking red planet looked as if it was putting as much effort as it could into getting noticed. Knowing this occurrence was happening despite its improbability should have unnerved Tolya, but then again he was a mage. Whatever science proved, Tolya knew that one way or another, magic could fuck it up through the ass and back.

“What day is it today, Sophie?” asked Tolya as he leaned back and hit the button that automatically closed the window.

“It’s a tuesday, why do you ask?” She lowered the folder to her lap as she raised an eyebrow at him.

Tolya knew what she would say even before she opened her mouth. “Something’s going to happen” he said softly, but enough for Sophie to hear. As if his voice had been an activation trigger, the sound of explosions and tire screeches erupted outside. Through Sophie’s window, he saw one of the SUVS spin out of control with its wheels of all things set on fire. More noises came about; this time they were more unnatural, like the earth groaning below them. The asphalt cracked open before spikes of earth began jutting out, adamant to destroy the convoy. Tolya couldn’t see what was happening outside because the divider between the back seat and the chauffeur was still up; he did know that the driver was pulling out all the stops to snake between the erupting spikes of earth. He turned to look at Sophie, her face was dark with fury but somehow she was steady on her seat, one arm outstretched towards him and clinging on the sleeve of his coat. He was still getting thrown around inside the car like a rag-doll, and was actually half-thankful when the limousine was lifted into the air. The smell of gasoline began to waft; in the air as the car’s motor and pistons whirred loudly. The driver must have been ramming the pedal to the floor trying to get away but the car was no longer on the ground so the wheels had nothing to apply traction to. Sophie released a hiss in anger (which honestly kind of freaked Tolya out) she was a demon, a creature of magic essentially. The fact that she didn’t sense these spells coming must’ve hit her pride like a sledge hammer.

“Well, this surely is something.” Said Tolya jokingly as he watched the glassware from the bar begin floating into the air, in fact even he had floated out of his seat along with everything else in the car that wasn’t strapped down. Tolya couldn’t help but smile to himself as he watched the things suddenly flying, even the spilled liquids formed into tiny individual droplets. His signet ring felt icy-cold against his finger, signifying that magic was being used against him, although he didn’t quite need the ring’s warning anymore.

“These are some pretty powerful spells, and hidden under enough magical suppressants that even you didn’t feel anything…impressive.” continued Tolya, as he raised his hand to steady himself against the car’s ceiling. He was still admiring the intricacy of the spellwork; even he had to admit that the design wasn't easy to comprehend. Upon activation, the magic released traces of its construct, so now Tolya was trying to study the nature of the trap and hopefully break the spell. He would have been able to had there been time, but whoever was staging this attack wanted it over and done with because the next thing he knew the car was closing in around him. His driver screamed only for a moment before it was cut off because the imploding metal shell of the car finally crushed him. Tolya sensed the flaring demonic energies coming from Sophie as she kept the spell at bay around him and her. Well, if they were this prepared to begin with, what would stop them from being prepared even more moves ahead? Tolya was familiar with that kind of thought process; he was a chess grandmaster after all. He seemed to be in a case of The En pris, or in a position to be taken, it was described as a piece exposed to a material winning capture by the opponent. But there was always another move to be played. He suddenly turned his head towards the left, where a gigantic wave of force was hurtling towards them. It was powerful, enough to send a ripple of magical energy that served as a good warning.

Sophie didn’t say anything else, she practically threw herself at him, as large, dark-red, leathery wings erupted from her back and enveloped around him. “Wait the vod-“ was the only thing that Tolya was able to say before the wings closed off all the light. Tolya was thrown into darkness, his arms pinned against his sides by Sophie’s powerful (and newly grown) appendages. It was an abrupt moment as he felt gravity snap back into normalcy - and Tolya wished it hadn’t. He felt the entire car spinning, and hitting the ground repeatedly.

If it wasn’t for Sophie’s protective embrace, he would have broken his neck a hundred times over. The sheer impact of the falls and the time in between them was flattening this car around them. Even in his seemingly helpless state, Tolya was thinking, planning, he was at a disadvantage but enough skill and a smidge of insight would turn all of this around. Damn Sophie…she wasn’t his demon so he couldn’t control her, she’d take his father’s commands over his, and apparently that included, keeping him safe above listening to him.

Suddenly the car smashed into something big, and stopped spinning. The flash of light came instantly as Sophie unfurled one wing, simultaneously sending the metal smashed around them, flying into the air. The area was dark, as if they were still behind a tinted window. But Tolya knew it was because the sun had completely set, whilst he was inside that spinning metal deathtrap.

Sophie stood up - at some point she had taken on a complete change to her form. There was still some semblance of that beautiful Eurasian woman. But now she was anything but human. Her eyes were pitch black and pupil-less, her skin a light milky shade of red. She had slender horns projecting from her forehead and the large leathery wings, flapped on either side, her spine extended out to a serpent that acted as a tail. She was completely naked, her body still beautiful, but in an exotic savage way. She held out a hand, and helped Tolya up, even going as far as to brush off the dust from his clothes (some habits didn’t disappear with time).

Tolya looked back at the heap of metal that used to be his car. Good thing that his stuff wasn’t in that car. Otherwise he would have been majorly pissed. He made a swiping motion with his hand and with it, more of the metal flew aside until he found his coat…or what was left of it at least. He held out his hand and the torn rags flew into his grasp. His mouth twisted in contempt as he tightened his fist around the remnants of the coat. Calling unto demonic energies, he muttered a curse that rotted the cloth inside out until it crumbled to dust in his grasp.

“I really liked that coat” He said to Sophie over his shoulder. Sophie gave an irritated snort before she spoke.

“How do you think I feel? I was working on those files for weeks.” Even her voice had taken on a more sinister tone; there was an echoing reverberation about it now, as if Sophie was speaking inside a deep cavern.

Tolya looked out back towards the road, no further attack seemed to be made just yet…they probably thought to kill him and be done with it. But surely they couldn’t have thought so little of him. Tolya’s arrival was supposed to be secret, fake dates were sent out and the preparations were concentrated around a small fast moving force of elite protectors…maybe decoys would have been a good idea. That way Tolya wouldn’t have lost his coat.

He turned around and faced towards the general direction of the attack. It seemed like the Khlystov force had gotten some its bearings back, one of the SUVs laid on its side, but the fires had been quenched. The others were off to the side and formed a sort of barricade where his men crouched and waited. He made out five men each sitting cross-legged on the ground out at strategic points so that they formed a pentagram. About a dozen demons circled above them like birds of prey, one just returned to the circle after what seemed to be a comb over of the general area. As soon as the demon joined the circle, another one went out to take its place and look for the attackers. Magic circles lit up on the ground as more demons were being summoned into the fore.

“Let’s go, Sophie.” Said Tolya, and she nodded her head before taking him by his waist and flying him to where the barricade was. She set him down gently, and he walked towards the captain of his escort force, desperately trying to look dignified despite being handle by Sophie like a baby.

“Okay , Kostya, kakogo khrena sluchilosʹ (what the fuck happened)? called out Tolya. The captain stood up, he was a large man with a bald head and a tattoo of a serpent over his left eye. Right now, a grizzly red gash split the serpent in half just below its head. He was dressed in a plain black suite that was singed at some places. The over-turned SUV had been his. He seemed more than relieved to see that Tolya was alive.

“All our fake trails were discovered, somehow they found out you were arriving today and at what time.” He began, “A lot of preparation went into the attack, meaning they must have known about everything for a week at the least. Maybe a leak in our ranks, but it’s better to address that when there isn’t a rival mage family breathing down our necks. ”

Tolya nodded, it was better that they didn’t let their paranoia set-in, at this moment they had to trust each other and try to find a good way to escape this shithole. Tolya grit his teeth, if he ever found out that somebody from the Bratva did rat him out, he’d make him sorrier than a demon subjugated with the essence rack.

“So, who are the zhopy (assholes)” asked Tolya, looking towards the east where the blast of invisible force had come from. That was the only lead he had, that was the only lead any of them had at the moment.

“Antonin is our best sensor, he says they’re somewhere in the forest but their magical aura is hidden well. But no doubt about it, they’re Italʹyantsy Italians. Stregheria is the only kind of magic that leaves this kind of mark in the air. I’ve made the men put up barriers around the perimeter, we don’t have our requisites but we stacked multiple self-regenerating layers on top of each other, it’ll hold for a while. We also sent some demons to scout the area, but those Stregoni do their job well. They even knocked out communications, magic and otherwise. As far as I can say, we’re in this alone for now. Don't leave the barrier Tolya, if we lose you, eto vse bylo zrya (this would all have been for nothing) ” with that, Kostya turned away and proceeded to direct his men.

Tolya looked around; it was really the best they could do of the situation given what they had. He turned to Sophie, who had never gone further from an arm’s length away from him. “I doubt I’ll be able to persuade you to go to the forest and look for them right?”

She shook her head, the long black tresses swaying across her back and shoulder as she did. “Your father instructed me to keep you safe, I don’t care if everybody else here dies as long as I bring you to him as not-bloodied up as I can. If you even try to leave the barrier, I will pin you down and sit on you.” He rolled his eyes at her, whatever she was trying to prove it was useless and annoying. He reached up to his right hand and twisted the signet ring a couple of times around the finger where he wore it. It was a habit of his, something akin to cocking a gun.

“Dantalion, where are you?” called out Tolya, and one of the bikers heard and moved towards him. The biker took off his helmet and revealed himself to be a handsome young man, barely older than Tolya himself. He had long black hair that normally would have flared to his waist, but was now neatly braided.

“A pity, I really wished that you had finally died this time.” He said, his voice matched his face but the malevolent smile did not.

“You always wish that, now shut-up I have a job for you. I want you to go into the forest and kill every single bastard, who even remotely smells like tomato-sauce. I want every fucking Stregoni in that forest dead, do you understand.” Dantalion wasn’t just a normal Khlystov soldier; he was also a demon, a great duke of hell who controlled thirty-six legions.

“As much as I live to serve a snotty, little prick like you, how the hell do you expect me to find them? Those flying fucks overhead will do a better job together, than I will alone you know.”

“Geez! Shut-up you whiny bitch, of course I won’t be letting you go alone.” snapped Tolya. Turning away from Dantalion, he closed his eyes, and extending his arm forward. He went through the processes methodically; it was second nature to him now. Tapping into that part of his soul that made a mage a mage, he opened himself up to the demonic energies. It was just like every other time he had done it before; he was locked in an eternal battle of ice and fire, a powerful corrupting essence that threatened to take over his soul through intense pain and pleasure. Like every other time, he controlled himself, took hold of his will and with the sheer strength of it, forced the demonic energies to his will. He opened his mouth and a magic circle ignited below his feet, while the triangle of Solomon ignited a few paces ahead.

”I conjure thee Shax the Great Marquis of Hell, who has power over thirty legions of demons on evil horses. I invoke you, and by invocating, conjure you; and being armed with power from the supreme Majesty, I strongly command you, by Him who spoke and it was done, and to whom all creatures are obedient; and by this ineffable name, TETRAGRAMMATON JEHOVA.”

Tolya’s voice seemed to take on a double-tibre as he recited the conjuration. He had already bound Shax into his service, and the seal of the demon was inscribed on his ring as was Dantalion’s. He only required now the circle and the triangle, which were both provided to him by his ring. In the center of the triangle erupted roaring flames, it twisted and turned with the acrid black smoke rising from its center before morphing to take a more solid shape. In a few seconds, where before there was nothing, now stood a creature reminiscent of a giant canine skeleton with internal organs created from fire and shadow.

“Yo…” said Shax, casually. He sat erect like a dog, before scratching a non-existent ear with his hind leg.

“I’m in need of your tracking powers Shax. I need you to find the assholes, who attacked my convoy. They’re somewhere in the forest, but they’re hiding behind some strong magic. Do you think you can do it?”

Shax began to laugh, his laugh sounding like a crackling bonfire. “Come on kid! You know I’ve got the best nose in the biz. I actually feel insulted that you had to ask!”

“Fine then! Take Dantalion, and the both of you better make a damn mess of those bastards.” Said Tolya, Shax nodded at that before he leaped out of the Triangle and on top of one of the over-turned SUVs.

“Keep up Dandelion!” shouted back the demonic marquise, with a boisterous laugh that now sounded more like a brush fire. He leaped out of the barrier perimeter and ran towards the forest.

“I told you to never call me that!” shouted Dantalion as he inhumanly leaped over the barricade after Shax. In mid jump, he shed his human form and instead took his true form, that of a paper-white skinned young man with his arms and lower half armored in black beetle carapace. The two long feelers extending from above his brows was the last thing Tolya saw before Dantalion also disappeared behind the barricade. Despite not seeing them, he was aware of them through the magical connection that bound both of them to his service. Tolya couldn’t help but start smiling. These Italian bitches had nothing on him, Dantalion and Shax would obliterate them.

---

Dantallion was able to catch up with Shax, the other demon lopped across the land with some semblance of bestial grace. He himself ran, each stride taking him further than any human could. They passed through what was left of the airport road, before entering into the forest. Shax seemed to be in the zone and said nothing, but moved with the sure purposefulness of a lethal hunter stalking its prey.

Dantalion had to admit that the magical wards set-up by the Stregoni were powerful, he couldn’t sense anything remotely magical around the area. But Shax seemed to be picking up on something that he wasn’t able to, and made turns and went around corners without hesitation.

“How the hell are you finding them?” finally asked Dantallion.

“It’s my thing Dandy, plus it’s not always about magical auras, sometimes you have to search around for intentions, and sometimes you just got to follow your nose.” They turned around a corner and entered a clearing where, sure enough, a contingent of Stregoni mages was circled around their heptagram maintaining their spells. The heptagram provided a degree of protection, but Dantalion was an 8th circle demon. He could rip through the barrier effortlessly.

“Well,” began Dantalion as he raised his arms to the side and two cruel looking swords made from hellfire materialized in his grasp. “You heard the little prick, every single Stregoni in this forest dead.” With that, Dantalion moved at a blink. One moment he was at the edge of the clearing and the next he was at the center of the circle. He moved like a viper, sinuous and deadly. There was a dancing-quality to his movement despite it being the act of lopping off heads like they were cantaloupes on sticks. The men scattered, trying to get away from the demon. One of them almost made it, but out of nowhere Shax pounced on him, his razor sharp fangs sinking into the man’s jugular and killing him instantly.

“That was anti-climactic. I expected a bit more from the guys who had enough nerve to attack the Khlystovs like that.” said Dantalion as he pulled out his flaming sword from where it was sheathed inside one of the Stregoni.

"Ooh, suddenly all excited are we?" replied Shax, after he relieved himself of a mouthful of mage. "If you're after more blood don't worry. I know where all fourteen groups are. They're scattered all around the forest. I chose the weakest group to attack first, that way we can work our way up."

"Dantalion merely rolled his eyes as the demonic marquis. "Whatever, let's just finish the job to we can all go home."

[Marco Stregoni]

Be prudent in striving for perfection for one who aims for it in everything achieves it in nothing

[STYLE=text-align: justify; border-bottom: 10px solid #4d4d4d; padding: 10 0 10 0;]“Targets on your scopes!” shouted the team leader.

On a rather high hill, one of the Stregoni groups took their place there. They were a rather unusual group compared to the others. Aside from the fact that within the heptagram they were lying on their chests and that they were wearing dark shirts, dark denim with leather jackets instead of suits what was unusual about them was that most of them were carrying snipers.

Their task was the same as any sniper group: engage units from afar, kill any prominent persons, and simply add to the chaos and confusion once the other groups start the assault.

As the Russians had passed them to their right, they were all targeting something through their scopes. As this was an extremely important person the Russians were moving, almost everyone in that group would be better off dead. So targeting wasn’t an issue. The problem was in making sure that they hit their mark. Spells were already laid upon them, enchantments already cast on their snipers and bullets. They were ready.

“Fuoco! (Fire!)” shouted the team leader.

Bullets shot in the air, zooming towards their targets. A loud bang came from each of the snipers, but thankfully with the heptagram, it also served as a sound suppressor.

But the bullets never killed their respective marks. Sure, the bullet something, but it didn’t hit them.

Through one of the scopes, one of them noticed something. The parade was swelling.

Demons.

“Their demoni (demons) were already out!” one of them shouted to the team captain.

What’s happening? Echoed a voice in his head. It was Emilio. He shook his head, just when they thought everything was going to go this smoothly.

---

The smell of burned tires wafted into the clearing Marco was in. The sound of motorcycle tires screeching against the hard asphalt pierced the air, as well as the occasional sounds of something crashing or exploding.

Marco was reading for his next spell but suddenly he glanced at Emilio who had runes circling his head. Telepathy spell. His face looked grim. What did the other groups report?

“Demons?” he muttered.

Marco immediately looked at the direction of the parade and sure enough, the initial parade was growing. Suddenly there were…things that were flying. Scaly, reptilian things with horns and other animal appendages seemingly sown together to create an…an abomination.

Were the snipers the one who reported this? He wasn’t a Capo, but a little perk for being the Don’s son was he knew the plan. The snipers were going to come immediately after the initial attack. Maybe it was them who first saw them.

Emilio suddenly put his hand up. Closed fist. He and the others immediately stopped preparing for their spells. “Change of plans,” Emilio said. The runes circling around his head seemed to glow more intense. Was he talking to all the group leaders?

Looking out, Marco saw the demons erect a wall, some were stabilizing the cars and before he knew it there was a perimeter in place. A sphere of red energy appeared but it quickly disappeared as well. There was now a barrier in place. He had to hand it to the Russians, they knew how to react fast.

“Barriers. Annoying piccola scopata (little fuckers),” Emilio said as he shook his head. “Alessandro, how do we get that thing down?”

Alessandro stood up and grabbed a set of binoculars. “Hmm...it seems that demons are making it – wait. Dimenticare che (Forget that). Five mages, they’re the ones maintaining it now. Brute force won’t put it down, perhaps just take away one mage the barrier would dissolve immediately. I can astral project if you want, so I can look at it closely," he said.

Emilio nodded. "Alright, be back here in twenty minutes."

---

In the astral world, things were much different. The colors for one thing, they were much more vibrant than in the physical world. Alessandro ran towards the barrier. In the physical world, as soon as the demonic energies stabilized, the barrier would soon become invisible unless something was acting against it.

Another thing in the astral world was that fatigue was not determined by one's physical endurance, instead on his/her magical reserves. Alessandro had a lot of that.

It didn't long before he reached the edge of the barrier. He knew he wasn't detected. He wasn't stupid enough to charge in there with other mages who might detect him. He was careful as always, always thinking a step ahead. This time he cast another protection spell on him he even asked Fons if he could cast an extra layer of invisibility and protection on top of that spell. But even with the spells laid on him, he still worked as cautiously as possible.

He circled the barrier, applying just the right amount of pressure to know what they were dealing with yet at the same he was avoiding just enough to avoid being detected. This made his work stretch out longer than it should have.

Checking his watch, it seemed that he was already studying it for almost fifteen minutes. Just a few more spells to know how to get rid of it.

---

While Alessandro was out, the sound of wings flapping took everyone’s attention. A great winged demon suddenly appeared. Obviously it was looking for them, but thankfully with the heptagram it wouldn’t detect them but even with that, Marco still couldn’t help but feel cold sweat forming in his palms. The group too seemed tense, like everyone was holding their breath. The demon perched on a nearby tree, its dark muscles were tense, the head was sniffing for any scent of them.

But thankfully, it didn’t notice anything so after a few moments, in one beat of its wings it was away. Marco followed the demon's path and saw the rest of them, circling the area like some bird of prey. The tense environment inside the heptagram suddenly evaporated.

He suddenly heard a sharp gasp and turned. Alessandro was back from his little reconnaissance mission.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked.

"Niente di più (Nothing much)," Marco said with a small smile.

"What did you see?" Emilio's raspy voice suddenly boomed.

"Self-regenerating, multi-layered barriers," Alessandro said as the others helped him up. "There's a spell for that, but I need to have direct contact with it."

Emilio nodded. Runes suddenly appeared once more. “Alessandro, I want you and – “ He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, “Alessandro! Try to make contact with the Amborigo group now!”

Alessandro immediately sat down again in the center of the heptagram. The soft glow intensified a little bit. Everyone was looking at him with grim expressions. What had happened? Suddenly, Alessandro opened his eyes, shock was registered in his face. “Andato (Gone),” that was the only thing he said.

Gone? Already? Marco’s mind was racing with reasons as to how this could happen. Barely forty minutes had passed and one of the groups was gone already? A tracker? Some complex detection spell? He knew the heptagrams were designed to keep their presence hidden in all levels.

“The Nestore group too. Gone. Just now” Alessandro continued on, his eyes were wide with shock.

---

Emilo looked grim. He turned and looked at the Russian perimeter. “Damn Russians,” he muttered. The runes circling his head flared for a little before disappearing. He told all groups in their side to rendezvous at their location, they were better of surviving if they were all in one place. As for the groups at the other side of the clearing, they were to rendezvous at the south area.

He turned back towards them. “I will be honest, this operation will get real nasty, real fast. They have demons and powerful ones too. But you must not be afraid. We have a job and I prefer that we all,” he paused, “that il resto di noi (the rest of us) make it out alive.”

The little speech had some effect to the group. People stood up more straight, there was a look of determination in each other’s eyes. Marco nodded at the speech too. He would not die today. Marco looked at Fons and nodded and Fon’s knew that look in Marco’s eyes very well.

“Alessandro, stay here and flare the two heptagrams when I say so. Marco – “ he looked around. The young Marco wasn’t there. “Where is he?” he said to the group. His eyes widened in anger. “Damn, it seems Il Puma has done it again,” he noticed another of the group make a small smile. “Che cazzo stai sorridendo? (What the fuck are you smiling at?)” he snapped, “You, look out for the others who are going here. And the two of you maintain the shield and make sure no fucking demon will get passed it…” he continued on giving orders.

---

And you think that we’re the ones going to destroy that barrier? Fons asked Marco.

Yeah, with Alessandro keeping the fort, who else would do a better job? Marco replied as he and Fons were walking towards the camp. The two were cloaked in an invisibility spell made by Fons. The invisiblity that Fons placed on the two of them was powerful enough and like the heptagram, clocked them an multiple levels. But even with that the two still moved rather cautiously.

True, Emilio will be pissed though. The Lares replied. Speaking of Emilio…

Marco Leonzio Stregoni! Emilio’s voice echoed in his mind. Marco shook his head, Emilio was such a nanny at times.

Yes boss? Please don’t be so loud, the others might hear you. Marco said with a slight grin on his face.

Don’t tell me what to do! Where are the two of you?

Before Marco could reply to that, Fons cut him. Well Marco believes that it is us who will destroy the barrier and since we’re almost there, just tell us the specifics.

There was a pause before Emilio replied.

Fine Emilio said. And before Marco knew it, images were flooding his mind. A pillar of energy, a small hole in the barrier, blue energy coming from Fons and suddenly he got it.

You know what to do? Said Emilio.

Sì sì (Yes, yes).

---

The two reached the perimeter. Marco and Fons crouched at one of the SUVs that had been overturned. Marco took out his athame and recited a spell he was about to stab it in the barrier but Fons suddenly grabbed his wrist.

He looked at the Lares with a surprise at his face and he suddenly remembered why.

---

Runes appeared again in Emilio’s head. Are you in position?

There was a slight pause before Marco replied. Yes, yes. We’re here.

Good. Just wait for my signal.

He turned to Alessandro. “Flare it.” Alessandro nodded and the glow in the heptagram suddenly glowed intensely.

They lost more men after the Nestore group fell. How many more groups did he have to loose before this mission was over? Thankfully the others were here, together they could repel whatever demon was stalking them in the forest.

Suddenly a great surge of energy flared to the south. It was in the first heptagram group that fell. The other two heptagrams suddenly flared their power as well. The effect was almost immediate. The surge of power filled the air and now every single magical being who was sensitive to magical energies could feel it all around them.

It was like a sandstorm, reducing visibility or in this case a sense of where Stregoni magic was being cast. Since the magical energy, specific to them was practically everywhere right now; their chances of detecting Stregoni made spells were greatly reduced. But Emilio was not so stupid to let the magical energy flow out of the area. There was a heptagram keeping all that power within that area only.

Okay. Go. Emilio said to Marco. He turned back to the soldati (soldiers). “On my signal,”

---

Marco felt that surge of energy suddenly take over him. So that’s why his father was so particular with those heptagrams. Well now that their energies was like a fog placed over the area. The barrier was much more visible now since it was reacting to the Stregoni energy. Marco took out his atheme enchanted with a spell that Alessandro taught him.

Without any hesitation he stabbed the barrier. It pierced through the barrier easily enough, the point of contact between the dagger and the barrier glowed like white-hot iron. The difficult part came in twisting the athame so that he could create a small hole but he succeeded to after a few minutes. He took the atheme out and Fons immediately placed his hand over the hole.

Suddenly one of the mages inside was hit with a spell. The mage screamed as it seemed that a hand had taken grasp of its heart, squeezing it. Outside the perimeter, Fons swirled his finger once and the mage’s heart exploded.

With the mage down, the barrier collapsed but before it could do so, the magical force that was made from it suddenly flooded out, making a concussive blast. Fons flung over Marco, protecting him from the explosion.

The two were flung back a certain distance. And when the two regained their bearings, Marco could see the first spells from the hill being fired.

---

At the hill, the snipers were joined by more people. Mostly mages, the barrier was as powerful as ever but the snipers were not focusing on that too much. Once they saw the barrier collapse they immediately let loose their bullets.

One by one, the demons circling around the sky like ravens suddenly screamed in pain.

[Anatoly Khlystov]

Dantalion and Shax were systematically taking down each and every group. It was actually fairly easy since the people inside the heptagrams believed that they were safe, and were too surprised to react speedily when Dantalion flickered suddenly in the middle of them slashing wildly with his swords of hellfire. But of course, it didn’t take long for the Stregoni to realize that staying scattered as they were, they were easy pickings for him and Shax.

They actually went on the move, leaving the protection of their heptagrams but only to regroup somewhere else. That called for a change of tactics for Dantalion and Shax as well. Whereas before they were like foxes, attacking rabbits from right within their burrows, now they were more like wolves running down their prey, before they reached a place of safety. The groups they met in the forest, weren’t as caught by surprise as before, some of them even put up a good fight but ultimately Dantalion and Shax over-powered them.

“I can actually now see the two main locations they’re gathering at. The groups aren’t all there yet, but they’re heading to the hill across the road, and another one not too far from us.” said Shax as he ran across the ground faster than any dog or horse could move. Dantalion was leaping from tree branch to tree branch over head, that way he could have a wider view of the forest.

“Okay, let’s go to the nearer one.” replied Dantalion, “I don’t want to have to cross the river, only to come back here later. Besides, out of the heptagrams I can already sense them as well. From what I can tell, we’re going to have more fun massacring the lot of them collecting on this side.”

“So you admit you’re having fun?” asked Shax, as he made a sharp turn around a half-rotted tree.

“Yeah, I’m imagining each and every head I lop off, belongs to the kid. It’s practically therapeutic!”

Shax just let out another loud crackling laugh.

---

Tolya was lying down on the ground, his hands crossed behind to support his head. He had also taken off his jacket, and rolled it up to make a make-shift pillow. The convoy was still far enough away from the city to see the stars clearly, and for what it was worth, staring at them helped him pass the time. Somewhere along the way, Tolya actually thought that the Stregoni wouldn’t even need to kill him face to face, because the situation that they put him in was killing him with boredom. He could sense Dantalion and Shax through the linked provided by their contract, that meant they weren’t dead yet and based on the purposefulness of their movement, Tolya could guess that they were fulfilling his instructions effectively. Even though he wanted to go with Dantalion and Shax, Sophie had never strayed too far away from him and he didn’t want to take her up on her threat about sitting on him. So he was stuck here, waiting out the Stregoni attack while his demons did all the fun stuff on their own.

“Zdesʹ.(Here)” said Sophie. Tolya looked up and saw that she was handing him a bottle of water, she was still in full-on demon attack form so it was kind of weird. “Drink it Tolik, you shouldn’t let yourself get dehydrated.” He pouted his lips upon hearing her use the diminutive version of his name that was only used for little kids. She just stared him down, the bottle of water still extended towards his face. Tolya finally sat up and took the bottle from her; she took the liberty of twisting the cap open before giving it to him though. “Where the hell did you even find this?” asked Tolya before he took a swig of water.

“It was inside one of the cars. One of the men actually has a sandwich if you’re hungry.”

“I’m not hungry! I’m friggin bored!” shouted Tolya, as he threw himself back down on the ground. He immediately sat back up again and looked towards Sophie, irritation on his face. “Why don’t you just go out and help Dantalion and Shax finish killing these italʹyanskiĭ ublyudki! (Italian bastards)”

“Excuse me, young man.” began Sophie as she crossed her arms over her impressive bosom, her breasts squeezed together and Tolya had to admit he was unnerved somewhat. “I’ve been in this city with your father far longer than the few hours you’ve had since getting off that plane. The Stregoni aren’t easy pickings for us, if they were then your father would have wiped them out already. They’re dangerous Tolya, some of the most dangerous ones you’ll come across when you arrive at Arc. So you better grow up and stop believing that you’re invincible. You need me here beside you in case anything happens.”

Tolya remained silent; he came close to sulking but caught himself before anything showed on his face. He didn’t want to hear another tirade from Sophie, and the best way for that to happen was to not give her any reason to start flapping her lips again. After a while, he finally stood up and began walking.

“Where are you going now?” asked Sophie, keeping pace with him at once.

“I’m going to look for Kostya and ask what the hell is happening.” Tolya walked across the impromptu camp set up by the Khlystovs, the feel of it was that they were all resigned to the fact that they were going to have to hold off throughout the night. The place was also lit up with orbs of artificial light created from magic; the men were scattered doing a number of things like playing cards or checking their weapons. The demons patrolled the perimeter both on the ground and in the air. While walking, Tolya spotted two of the men maintaining the barriers, they all sat down on the ground cross-legged seemingly lost in a trance-like state, behind them stood their demons feeding them the required magical energy. The weapons retrieved from the SUVs were laid out for easy access for everyone, even though the moment seemed calm and peaceful everybody was still alert, none let the chill of the night set into their bones, but then again they were Russians after all.

Tolya finally found Kostya, talking with Antonin rather heatedly somewhere in the middle of the camp. The two men couldn't have been more different, Kostya broad-shouldered and bald, while Antonin was lanky, stood with a slight stoop and had stringy black hair. He recognized both their demons, who were obediently attending their masters. Kostya’s Aphtar, stood behind the captain, looking like some large bat made out of obsidian stone, from the cracks across his craggy exterior pulsated a purple colored energy. Antonin’s Nhaetudon, took the form of an electric blue serpent with a ridged back, the demon was coiled about Antonin’s shoulders and looked a bit abashed like his master. Tolya arrived just in time for another outburst from the former.

“Yebatʹ! What do you mean he got away? I told you to keep track of anything remotely magical within 100 meters of this camp.” Shouted Kostya, it wasn’t like him to shout or lose his patience, but obviously things didn’t help him keep calm and collected. Everything could go wrong, so the little mistakes would mean a lot more than they would usually do.

“It’s difficult to keep track of everything!” replied Antonin, “Even for me, there’s so much magical energy being thrown around half my effort is just to distinguish which one is old and which one is new. And I already told you, he was cloaked heavily. It would have taken enough magical energy to move a house put into his cloaking spells if he was able to hide from me at that proximity. Nobody else would have been able to sense him; it was a miracle that I was even able to at all.”

Kostya massaged the bridge of his nose, and Tolya chose to speak up. “Somebody got through our defenses?” he asked, slightly surprised, Antonin was indeed one of the best sensors in the world, if a mage was skillful enough to hide his presence from Antonin then perhaps Sophie was right about these Stregoni being a big threat.

“Somebody was poking at our barrier in astral form. I was able to sense him and I called out Nhaetudon to attack, but he winked out before we were able to reach him.”

“And what could they have been doing?” asked Kostya.

“Probably trying to find a way through, that’s why I told Yuri and the others to increase the layers. But we can’t keep over working them, if we plan to hold out until help comes.”

“Phaw! We’ve just been handed hell in a hand basket! We’re demonologists for fuck’s sake, aren’t we supposed to be handling this well?” with that, Kostya walked away barking more orders to the men who were playing cards, Aphtar lumbered behind him awkwardly.

Tolya turned towards Antonin, who was now looking far towards the general direction of the forest.”You guys called for help? How were you able to do that? I thought they brought our communications down.” He asked the older Bratva member.

“Grubs, we summoned a couple of 1st circle, worm-demons and implanted a message into them. They’re currently burrowing about 30 miles below the ground and headed towards Khlystov World Tower. They’re also pretty weak, so the Stregoni won’t pay much attention to them, assuming they can even sense those things 30 miles below the ground and all. But as a precaution we still cloaked them.”

The ingenuity of it was impressive. It was an idea that Tolya would have come up with himself, but why didn’t he? Honestly, it was because he believed Dantalion and Shax would be done by now. Suddenly Antonin placed his hand against his temple, an expression of intense concentration painting itself across his face.

“What is it?” asked Tolya, his fists tightening as he too looked around the area. For what it was worth, Tolya was a talented sensor, nothing close to Antonin of course, but he could hold his own. He felt nothing out of the ordinary, but the older man had been right about the entire place being saturated with magical energy.

“I think there’s something, but it’s difficult to zero in on it.” Before Tolya could answer, a sudden influx of magical energy erupted all around them. It was distinguishably Stregoni, it didn’t do anything. In fact, if Tolya wasn’t a mage he wouldn’t even have known that anything happened at all. Antonin’s eyes just widened, what were the Stregoni planning? Right now it seemed that they were just wasting a whole lot of magical energy. The Khlystovs remained wary for a few minutes, they all looked around for any hint as to what would happen. But then, it was too late and the barrier exploded outwards. Demonic energy was always volatile, especially when being channeled through a mage, if a proper flow wasn’t maintained it usually ended with destructive outcomes. No harm came from the Stregoni party because the explosion had been outward, but as soon as the barrier cleared the barrage of bullets and spell work began. Sophie and Nhaetudon reacted quickly, each raising their own protective barriers for their charge. The other demons erected their own barriers as well, but a split second made all the difference as some of the demons began falling out of the sky.

The Khlystov’s didn’t waste any time though, it was obvious from where the gunfire had come from now. The game of hide and seek between the two groups had come to an end, and now the battle had gone into the open. There was a gigantic rush of wind, as a low-flying Aphtar swooped overhead with Kostya riding on his back. Whatever awkwardness the demon had on the ground was now lost, as he flew across the sky masterfully, avoiding all the gunfire and magical projectiles. Kostya stood on his back, wielding a sub-machine gun in one hand, while his other hand just released a particularly large blast of summoned demonic fire. They headed straight towards the hill, a particularly powerful barrier protecting them from the close-range fire, just when it seemed that Kostya and Aphtar were going to crash into the hill, they made an extremely sharp pitch upward and rose to the sky. Aphtar was able to grab two Stregoni soldiers during that fleeting moment. They halted about fifty meters above the ground before letting the two captives go and fall to their death. Not far behind him, some of the other Khlystovs also flew towards the hill, riding demons of varying flying shapes. They returned fire at the Stregoni, strafing them with bullets and combat spells while rising to the sky to gain the advantage of higher ground. The Stregoni reconcentrated their attack from convoy, and began trying to shoot down the engaging Khlystov force. Antonin flung his hand to the side and Nhaetudon, coiled around it before sprouting two ribbed wings of his own. The demon flew up, carrying Antonin with him and both of them made their way towards the hill.

“Klass! (Cool!)” shouted Tolya, his mouth wide like a kid in a candy store. “Come on Sophie! We should totally join them!” He lifted from the ground under the influence of his stolen demonic power of flight, but Sophie’s wrist quickly closed around his ankle and dragged him back to the floor.

“Tolya! Didn’t I just lecture you? You’re staying here where it’s safe!”

Tolya pouted again and crossed his arms in irritation; he thought that coming to Arc meant that he was going to take part in more supernatural battles. I he didn’t fly all the way from Russia to be made to sit down and twiddle his thumbs while everybody else got a piece of the action. He wanted his piece of the combat cake! He turned his head and noticed something, which apparently nobody else did. Everybody was so concentrated on engaging the force on the hill that they didn’t notice those two guys, standing up from grass. Tolya closed his left eye, and while he did his right eye suddenly changed. It morphed and became lidded in flames, with single narrow slit of black for a pupil. Due to his human physiology trying to support the demonic eye, the veins and arteries bulged out the side of his face. With the eye, Tolya scoped in and found two young men, both barely older than him. Tolya made his eye scope even closer and saw that one of the two was carrying a dagger in his hand, the dagger had inscriptions across it and at that moment it was smoking as if it had just been pulled out of the forge. That could mean many things, but Tolya would bet his testicles that those two were responsible for bringing down the barrier. Tolya let his eye return to normal, but he could still make out where the two were standing in the clearing. He thought about summoning Bifrons, but Dantalion and Shax were already called out, it would be dangerous to manifest all three simultaneously.

Tolya looked towards Sophie; she would never let him personally participate in a fight that much she made clear. So, that only meant that he had to find a way to get out from her tight reins. He suddenly realized that he was still holding unto the bottle of water from earlier, and just like that the plan formed itself in his head. He looked up towards the demoness and called to her.

“Hey Sophie, catch.” He threw the water bottle, and while it was in the air his shadow came alive below him and struck out like a viper.

Sophie caught the bottle effortlessly, and with furrowed brows opened her mouth to reprimand. “What now To-“was all she was able to say before Tolya’s living shadow wound around her ankle and yanked to pull her off her feet. Laughing like a maniac, Tolya shot into the air and towards the direction of the two men towards the clearing. She tried to grab him again but missed his foot by a hair's breadth. Tolya flew fast, but whilst he did he already began muttering an incantation under his breath.

”I conjure ye most powerful lance of ELOHIM GIBOR, which showeth forth the Strength of the All Powerful, who punisheth the crimes of the wicked, Who seeketh out and chastiseth the iniquities of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation. by the heavens; by the earth; by the sea; by the depth of the Abyss, and by that firmament which the very Spirit of God hath moved; by the sun and by the stars; by the waters and by the seas, and all which they contain; by the winds, the whirlwinds, and the tempests; by the virtue of all herbs, plants, and stones; by all which is in the heavens, upon the earth, and in all the Abysses of the Shades.”

As he flew and went through the words of the spell, magical energies began circling around him violently. Runes appeared and began to dance about Tolya’s person while the power reached spiking levels. Just as he arrived above the two men, Tolya finished the incantation. He flung out his hands towards them, and an orb of energy materialized before him. The orb was barely larger than Tolya’s head, but inside it seemed to be compressed all the storms in the world. Tolya was just able to let his mouth quirk into a smile, before a blinding bar of light blasted towards his target.

[Marco Stregoni]

Be prudent in striving for perfection for one who aims for it in everything achieves it in nothing

[STYLE=text-align: justify; border-bottom: 10px solid #4d4d4d; padding: 10 0 10 0;]With the heptagrams flaring the Stregoni magic, it was practically everywhere. But the heptagrams did more than just flare their magic so that they wouldn’t be detected that much, it also made it easier for them to detect any form of magic that was not theirs, mainly the Khylstov magic. Alessandro could pick up bits and pieces of foreign residue in the clearing, yet there was an extremely strong concentration of that not too far from where Marco pierced the barrier. He shook his head, maybe it was the residue of the barrier.

Alessandro could also sense a large part of the Russian's magic at the hill. For obvious reasons. It was utter chaos by the looks of it. There would be sparks and great pillars of fire that would randomly erupt around the hill, great demons with wings were flying about, gunning down his fellow Mafioso in a barrage of bullets and magic. The ones left on the ground were also there, throwing everything that they had at the group of Stregoni.

Yet, they Stregoni kept their ground.

The barriers were still up, the heptagram was still standing. Alessandro could sense flares of Stregoni magic originating from the hill. They were fighting back and with full force. After one particular strong attack from a demon, he saw silvery ropes suddenly entangle the demon’s ankle. It struggled to get back into the air, flapping its wings more violently.

“The binding spell,” he muttered under his breath.

The silvery ropes suddenly glowed in a white-blue hue before transforming into long chains. The demon roared in frustration in the conflict when suddenly the chains were now zooming towards it, entangling itself with the demon before tightening. Another roar came from the demon as the chains were crushing it.

Alessandro could see the demon’s hand desperately struggling to get itself free but after a few moments the chains were so tight that they cut the demon into numerous pieces.

“Bene che è uno di questi demoni verso il basso (Well that’s one demon down),” he muttered. He saw more spells after that. Lightning bolts, bars and pillars of energy, demons swooping down.

They needed to help them.

He turned to look for Emilio. Why was the man not telling them to go to the hill and help the other group?

He found Emilio, looking grim with runes circling around his head. Maybe the battle wasn’t going as good as he thought. Alessandro suddenly felt nervous, were they loosing? After a while the runes disappeared and Emilio breathed deeply.

“Anything wrong?”

“Niente (Nothing),” the older Stregoni said.

This time it was Alessandro’s turn to have runes circle in his head. Please, tell me what’s happening, he thought as Emilio moved to another side of their camp.

There’s nothing to say, they’re doing what they’re supposed to do. We’re doing what we have to do. He replied as he still continued to walk.

But won’t we help them?

No.

Alessandro froze. No? They were not going to help them? Were they just going to leave them with those demonic abominations running around trying to kill them? Why, Emilio. Why? He thought back. Emilio stopped at his tracks, yet did not face the mage.

Because they’re doing their job, we have ours. We have to capture the kid.

Alessandro glared at Emilio’s back. Hoping that Emilio could at least sense his frustration. So we’re just going to leave them there? To die!

No one else is dying today! Shouted Emilio through their telepathic link. Fiducia (Trust) Alessando! Fiducia (Trust)! That is why we will not go to lend our hand. I trust them enough to know that they will do their job properly. Do you think that I don’t want to go and help! They have their duties and we have ours.

Alessandro didn’t know what to say.

But the waiting – he started but Emilio cut him.

Yes, the waiting. The most annoying, the most painful thing in the world. Yet when you trust someone, that’s the only thing we can do. Emilio said as he resumed his walking. He grabbed a semi-automatic machine gun and cleared his throat.

“There are two demons, entities or just plain fucking Khlystovs approaching,” everyone in the camp suddenly shut up. “They’re powerful, so if you don’t want to die, preparare (get ready).” He said in his authoritative voice. After his little speech, Emilio didn’t bother to look at Alessandro anymore.

Alessandro walked back to the edge of the clearing once more. The fighting was still continuing. Flares of Stregoni and Khlystov magic were randomly popping up. But there was one flare that suddenly appeared. Far from the chaotic hill. It came from a location not too far from the early Khlystov camp and it was zooming in on…something.

Marco and Fons.

Alessandro’s eyes widened at the realization. He looked back towards the camp, everyone was busy doing their own thing, preparing for whatever was to come. He looked out once more, Marco and Fons, left with that thing? He needed to do something and he needed to do it fast.

He would have to pull of an Il Puma.

---

With a groan, Marco opened his eyes only to see the darkness of the sky. Well it wasn’t completely dark, the moon was there, as well as stars and the occasional flashes of light that came from Stregoni and Khlystov spellwork. What the heck was happening?

Marco tried to get up, but his arms struggled to support him and he collapsed back on the ground. His damn back was hurting too. He heard a sound to his side and cocked his head toward it. It was Fons approaching. Why was the Lares still looking pristine? But Marco shook his head at the question. Fons was a Lares, that in itself was a decent explanation.

Feeling better? The Lares said through a telepathic link.

Marco groaned again. I guess, he answered. Fons approached him and helped him up, Marco placed his arm over Fons' shoulders so that the Lares could support him standing up. Che cosa è successo? (What happened?) He asked when he was able to.

When I killed the mage and your broke the barrier, it collapsed. But demonic energies are volatile at best. So when the magical energies came rushing out and –

Marco cut him impatiently. Aspetta. Per favore. Parla Italiano (Wait. Please. Speak Italian).

Fons paused for a moment. Their barriers self-destruct when they’re destroyed. We got caught in the explosion.

Oh alright. Grazie (Thanks). Marco said, struggling to keep himself standing. He looked up and saw that he and Fons were flung quite far from the Khlystov’s camp. And with a force that powerful, he was actually shocked that he didn’t break a rib.

“Thank you,” he told the Lares once more out loud. He could sense residues of demonic energies in the area. Alessandro could have at least mentioned that little fact about demonic barriers earlier. Well what was done and he didn’t die or break something important. Thank Fons for that.

Suddenly a silvery ropes suddenly appeared from a hill, entangling a great demon that struggled against it. It seemed that with what Marco did, the fight was now in the open. He needed to help. He was a good mage and a good marksman. He may not be as good as Alessandro but he was definitely more powerful than him, at least in terms of raw power. He tried to move forward but his muscles became tense and he stumbled down.

He would have fallen to the ground if not for him still having his arm over Fon’s shoulders. He cursed under his breath at the predicament he was in.

Relax, you were hit by demonic energies, the Lares said to him. Sit down and let me help.

Marco sat down, with Fon's help, and suddenly he was at the center of a heptagram. Fons placed his hands over him and suddenly a soft breeze brushing against him. Soft, playful, relaxing. He felt as if a great weight had been lifted off him, that something had soothed his muscles. He even closed his eyes as he the demonic residue was taken out of his body.

Finito (Done), said Fons telepathically. Marco took a deep breath and stretched his muscles. They were not hurting anymore. He got up ready to join the others and fight but before he could do he spotted something. It was a sort of glowing thing, it was white and it was flying towards them. Marco wasn’t a good sensor but with Stregoni energies everywhere he knew it wasn’t one of his fellow Mafioso.

Fons we have company, Marco said as he got his athame.

I know, the Lares replied. Start a spell, I can deflect the attack long enough.

Marco wasted no time, “Stars, children of Diana give me hope that I may conquer this trial. Earth, bearer of mankind, give me strength to endure and be steadfast in my journey. Moon, Diana, Mother of –“

Suddenly a great beam of white energy suddenly erupted from the caster’s hands. Fons immediately made a barrier. White energy met blue barrier. Go on, continue! Fons said to Marco.

“Diana, Mother of my ancestors, grant me the wisdom to illuminate all truths and cast out the shadow,” the atheme in his hand suddenly lifted and was hovering in front of him, rotating as it once more glowed as if heated at great temperatures. He brought his hands nearer, as if cupping the atheme. The blue barrier Fons made suddenly cracked. Marco’s eyes widened in shock. Who could possess the power to shatter Fons’ magic? He took a deep breath and went back to his spellcasting.

“Oh great triumvirate, Star, Earth and Moon, lend me the power to cast shadow into abyss. Grant me the power to cast shadow into abyss. Dammi il potere di gettare ombra in abisso! (Grant me power to cast shadow into abyss!)” he finished his spell and he immediately grabbed the athame and brandished it in front of him.

White flames erupted from the athame, creating an arc as Marco brandished it. The flames were heading towards the caster. Marco saw the shield, cracks were forming and Fons grit his teeth. Fons, gritting his teeth in a magical conflict. Was this the kid he was supposed to capture?

Suddenly Fons disappeared in front of him and something pulled him from behind. He could see the shield crack until it was totally obliterated by the other spell. It hit the ground and a massive explosion occurred followed by a blinding white light.

A few meters away from the explosion, Fons put Marco down. The caster, it was a regazzo (boy), Fons said.

Marco held his atheme as he took out one of his guns. Well I guess we found our target.

[Anatoly Khlystov]

As always, the torrent of demonic energies threatened to overwhelm Tolya. Liquid fire and blistering winter coursed through his veins instead of life-blood, and nothing but his sheer force of will held it back from consuming him. Any second, he could lose his control over the massively corrupting powers he dared to take command off. The wind whipped violently around him as he hung suspended fifty meters in the air. His right hand still remained outstretched, a lance of pure energy discharging from it violently. At the other end of the spell, Tolya could make out a wall of blazing blue energy. One of the two men was able to erect a barrier faster than the lance of light could travel. Even for a spell weaver, that was already impressively fast, but Tolya knew he wasn’t dealing with a spell weaver. When Tolya had activated his demonic eye earlier, he didn’t see a man, but rather many flashes of images: a great lion, a being created out of light, a man dressed in renaissance attire, and other things that couldn’t be described in human terms. Tolya didn’t care; it was just a spirit. Hell, it wasn’t all that different from his demons and obviously he wasn’t scared of those bastards.

Tolya’s grin turned into a snarl, then into a howl of rage, as he gripped the wrist of his right hand for support. He was the Demon Prince of Khlystov, in his entire seventeen years of existence there had never been a mage who had as much strength in the power as he did. This spirit could throw up his flimsy barrier, but Tolya barely even touched on the true extent of his abilities. Around Tolya’s outstretched arm, the shaft of energy intensified. It was no longer a focused stream but instead became unstable, with stray arcs of energies carving out deep furrows in the earth. The hair at the back of Tolya’s neck stood up because the air around him was ionized by his spell. So much power dumped into the air like that; it ripped apart and rearranged the molecules causing Tolya to smell nothing else but the electrified smell of ozone. His soul was overflowing to the brim with demonic energy; it was a terrible blend of ecstasy and pain. The excess demonic energies surged out of Tolya’s body; black lightning fluctuated about his limbs and formed a light-eating corona around him.

He felt the resisting force of the barrier waver at the focal point where the two opposing magics converged together the most. Tolya narrowed his eyes in concentration, pushing the spell to its limits of destructive power. Finally, there was a resounding boom as the spell finally broke through. Everything was vaporized in a flash of blinding light. Tolya finally snapped back his arm, his hand was smoking and the veins bulged out noticeably. That performance would have been suicide for any other mage, but for Tolya it was possible. He didn’t have enough years under his belt to be able to master the Solomonic discipline just yet, but what he did have was an insane capacity to channel and control magical energies. Enough power behind even the most basic of spells could still prove to be devastating. Letting his aura of demonic energy ebb away, Tolya examined his hand. The strain of the spell still had its visible effects, but those would recede in time. He moved his gaze back down, where a giant dust cloud obstructed his view. He prepared to extend his magical sense towards the ground and see if his two targets were still alive. But before he could, a warning ripple of magical energy alerted him. Tolya’s eyes widened as a sweeping arc of white fire burst through the dust cloud, heading straight for him. The arc was too wide and two fast for him to fly away from. He opened his mouth to begin the incantation of a protection spell, but he already knew that he wouldn’t be able to get through half the spell before that thing reached. But what other choices did he have? He could only start the spell and hope he could get it up at the final second.

The first sound barely exited Tolya’s lips, when he suddenly felt something strong wrap around his waist and turn him away from the flames. He was caught in shock, as he watched the white fire stream at both sides, the intense heat of it blossoming across his face. Finally, the flames dissipated and winked out into nothingness, and for the first time Tolya noticed the pink arms twined around his midsection, and the heavy breathing of someone behind him. He broke away from the arms; they didn’t try to put up much of a resistance. Looking back, he saw Sophie. Her jet black hair hung over face and her great black wings were spread out. Holes seemed to be burned into them at some places, and trails of smoke rose from them towards the air. The edges of the holes were still lit with tiny embers, but Tolya could already make-out that they were regenerating themselves.

“S…So…Sophie, um…spasibo (thanks)” said Tolya. He wanted to say something else, but he couldn’t think of anything. In the same time, her wings patched themselves back completely and she flipped her hair out of her face, and crossed her arms over her chest. She would have been tapping her foot impatiently if she and Tolya weren’t flying in the air.

“You are in so much trouble, little boy.” said Sophie. The searing anger was so apparent in her eyes that Tolya unconsciously moved away from her. The image that flashed in his head was of the time when he was four, and he had gotten into the pantry and made a mess of it. Sophie had a very similar expression then as she did now. Back then, she also had a slipper. Tolya was about to try and come up with some long convoluted explanation for his actions but a blast of blue energy came from below. Sophie spun around, pulling her wing in front of her; she used it to swat the energy away. There was a resounding boom like thunder, as the bar of light impacted against her wing and ricocheted off to the side upending the ground. The back of her wing was smoking but Sophie didn't seem to care, she materialized chains into her hands, each one extended a few more meters below her feet and ended in a cruel looking spike.

“So I take it that I’m not in trouble anymore?” asked Tolya, he flashed a fake innocent smile.

“You’re not that lucky, Tolya.” answered Sophie, “You’re still in trouble, but for now you stay back and not do anything stupid.” Another blast came from below and Sophie lashed the chains forward, they came alive undulating through the air like a mass of metallic serpents. The first chained spike pierced through the crown of the energy blast, forcing it to begin collapsing into itself. The other spikes struck as well, boring through the energy blast before ultimately ripping it apart. “Nothing’s going to touch you while I’m here.” she said. Tolya sensed her demonic energy suddenly flare. The intensity of her power made Aphtar look like a 1st circle demons, by comparison.

---

Dantalion leaned against some random tree trunk while Shax stood a few paces ahead sniffing the ground. He looked up in the air and watched as the sky warped unnaturally at the astral plain. The entire forest was practically drowning in magical energy. The mages would have been able to sense it, but for spiritual entities it was an entirely different experience altogether. It wasn’t necessary for demons to breath, but Dantalion could guess that this was probably how humans felt when they were inside an extremely stuffy room. Since the flare, it became more difficult to track down their prey.

He turned towards the other demon, while he drummed his fingers against his forearm. His claws made light tapping sounds against his carapace armor, and his long feelers twitched impatiently. Shax moved around the general area, his nose pressed against the soil. So far, there had been no more encounters with Stregoni mages, all of them seemed to have reached their destination. To the distance Dantalion could make out the battle of spell work. Even though Dantalion’s war expertise lay more in intrigue and propaganda, he couldn’t deny how glorious a battle was ensuing on the hill. King Beleth would have been pleased.

Shax finally raised his head. “So, anything new to report?” asked Dantalion. Shax turned to face him, before answering.

“These Stregoni are crafty aren’t they?”

“I think we’ve established that.” said Dantalion sardonically.

“No they really are! I think I’ve figured out their entire set-up. The fourteen groups, each one with a heptagram. They aren’t just about scattering their forces evenly. There’s a method behind it. It’s all kind of really complicated. I’m actually more partial to the Khlystov way of bullying everything into submission. Seems a bit more honest don’t you think?”

Dantalion raised an eyebrow. “You got all of that by sniffing the ground?”

“Among other things,”

Dantalion rolled his eyes before he pushed himself off the tree. “Nevermind. So, have you found the group we’re looking for yet?”

Shax nodded his head. “Their leader is in that group as well. Although, one of their best practitioners just got up and left.”

Dantalion had no idea how Shax figured out all of that, but then again they were different demons and they were spawned at different corners of hell. It would be useless to try and even understand. “That just makes it easier to kill them all. Go on then, lead the way.”

Shax nodded a second time before he went on the move again. Dantalion followed closed behind, the two of them a solid-working team. The two of them weren’t exactly fond of each other, but at the same time they didn’t have any open animosity. The kid chose his set of demons well, it wasn’t always about fire power, sometimes dynamics were more important.

Shax came to a skidding halt, and Dantalion followed suit. Before them was a group far larger than any they were able to encounter previously. They also seemed to be expecting them already; no doubt word had gotten ahead. Dantalion crouched down low to the ground and materialized his flaming swords again. He crossed the demonic blades over his chest, before speaking to Shax over his shoulder.

“Surprise won’t really work anymore.”

“Nope, I don’t think it will.” said Shax.

“I guess we should take a cue from our beloved masters and…how did you put it…bully everything into submission?”

“As good a plan as any” replied Shax. He then opened his jaw as wide as it would go. He gathered pure demonic energy, shaped it into a sphere, and then compress it inside his mouth. The energy ball was incredibly dense, that Shax sunk the ground beneath his weight after he swallowed it. Dantalion could feel the pressure build inside the other demon until it finally reached its peak and Shax opened his mouth again to release a gigantic wave of crimson energy. Dantalion didn’t waste any time, as Shax carved a swath through the mages he also flashed into the opposite edge of the clearing. He hewed a man diagonally across the chest before moving the gut the next closest one. This group needed to be brought down as quickly as possible.

[Marco Stregoni]

Be prudent in striving for perfection for one who aims for it in everything achieves it in nothing

[STYLE=text-align: justify; border-bottom: 10px solid #4d4d4d; padding: 10 0 10 0;]Did you see the boy? Marco asked the Lares through the telepathic link.

Yes, I saw him, Fons replied. There was a certain happiness in how he projected that sentence back to him.

Are you actually happy that the regazzo (boy) is this powerful? Asked Marco.

Why not? Remember what I said about having good enemies to constantly improve yourself?

Yeah, what about it?

Well, the boy definitely makes the cut. Besides, how long has it been since we last faced an enemy that was this good? Marco was just about to reply but stopped himself from doing so. The Lares made sense. When was the last time they actually faced an enemy that was this powerful? Especially for Fons who already had lived one lifetime. With the stories that Fons would tell him, life in the Renaissance was good and easy yet when enemies came, the battles that he had fought in were intense and bloody. Since then, he hadn’t faced anyone as dangerous as before.

Marco looked up. The dust cloud was obstructing his view. He would gladly move it with a simple wind spell, but that would leave him visible to his enemy. He could sense the enemy at the other side of the dust cloud. Who couldn’t? The boy was emitting large amounts of magical energy and with everything saturated with Stregoni energies, it was even made more obvious. The boy was practically a beacon! He wasn’t even sure if he was totally invisible to the enemy. The boy proved to be exceptionally powerful. But who was to say that he hadn’t even tried to use a fraction of his power when he was breaking Fon’s barrier? How could the boy have seen he and Fons at that distance?

His spellwork may be quite simple but, wow, the sheer power of it is just incredible, Fons cut in. The Lares could hardly keep his excitement inside. The Lares took a deep breath and when he exhaled, out came a mist-like substance. It was magical energy. The area was so saturated already that with Fons spewing out his own magical energy, he produced the right amount of it to make a visible mark.

Simple, that spell was simple? He asked the Lares. Again Marco was left dumbstruck. Well the boy’s spells were definitely powerful. But simple? Marco wasn’t that deep into Stregheria, he knew how to cast complex spells but to just to look at one and judge it off the bat and say that to cast that spell was just a simple matter, he just couldn’t do that yet.

Suddenly numerous blue spheres appeared around Fons. Well yeah, trust me, compared to the spell you cast that spell was simple. Fons looked up with a mischievous face and one of the spheres shot away from him and shot into the air. A few meters after it was launched the sphere elongated, becoming a bar of blue light.

The bar caused the dust cloud to part slightly. Marco could make out a silhouette with the bar’s light. With a boom like a thunderclap, the bar made contact but it was redirected somewhere else. Marco’s eyes widened in shock. Did the boy also have the power to swat magical spells like that away like flies?

We have company, Fons said. Suddenly Marco’s mind was filled with an image seen from Fon’s eyes. The boy was there but with him was another demon, but it wasn’t an abomination like the others, but it took the form of a woman, a beautiful one at that. She was actually a beautiful entity, to think that that thing was a demon. A beautiful one was just as rare as an innocent politician. Yet with the image Fons showed him, Marco saw her face. It was twisted, full of rage; her eyes looked like great burning chasms. The demon had wings and one seemed to be smoking. Well that’s what swat the spell away.

Marco took a deep breath. Great un altro nemico (another enemy) to deal with. And another one that could go toe-to-toe with Fons. But then again he knew that this would not be an easy mission.

Fons suddenly launched more spheres and thus more bars appeared in the air and Marco wasted no time in casting another spell.

He took a deep breath.

“Azure cremisi luna e il sole, più luminoso giorno e notti più buie ... (Azure moon and crimson sun, brightest days and darkest nights…)” he started. Runes started circling him as he continued to recite his spell. He felt magical energy flow into him. It was a warm feeling, a nice feeling. His fingers slightly tingled, yet it did not hurt. He felt warmness enter his body, as if having a good cup of hot chocolate in a winter night. He regulated his breathing as he continued to cast his spell. A circle of runes started forming below him.

In front of him, Fons was still continuing his attack on the demon above them. But with every spell he cast, the demon just countered it. The collision of their spells let out a great flash of light as well as a booming thunderclap, yet Marco did not let these distract him from casting his spell.

…and in the powers of chaos, grant me control,” he finished. Suddenly, from the runes circling him and the circles of runes at his feet came out a rush of golden magical energy. It collected at the end of the barrel of Marco’s gun where it compressed to a very small sphere.

Marco raised his gun at the boy’s direction. With Fons distracting the demon, perhaps it was easier to just target the boy. It was easy enough finding the boy with the boy flaring his power. With the trigger pulled the bullet came into contact with the sphere and a bar of golden energy shot out. But what was different about this time was it wasn’t that rigid and slithered in the air. Whenever it came into contact with a spike that was trying to pierce it, it simply split into two separate slithering bars and continued their path towards the boy.

He took his atheme out, ready to use it for a secondary strike, but Fons suddenly spoke within Marco’s head. Not yet, we need a new plan if we are going to capture the boy.

---

Alessandro! Alessandro! Runes were circling Emilio’s head as he was trying to contact Alessandro telepathically. But there came no reply. Damn it! In the most dangerous fight of their lives, Alessandro decided to pull an Il Puma!

He could sense the tenseness in the air around him. Everyone in his group was anxious and terrified with what they were about to face. Like prey hiding from a snooping predator. But they would not die today! Not with him at their watch. He was not the friendliest person in the Mafia, he was not the person who would greet you good morning and ask about your wife and children. He was simply not that kind of person. But he was the person who had enough experience and decisiveness to make sure that you went home alive.

Emilio sensed flares of magical energy from the hill to the south, the fighting was still on going. But there were other flares of magic, not too far from him. Marco? But before he could look into it, Emilio suddenly sensed something else. From the south, a great wave of energy was suddenly released.

They were here.

Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of gunshots and of men shouting.

He suddenly sensed a torrent of energy approaching. “You three, ready yourselves,” Emilio said. After a few moments he saw the crimson torrent of demonic energy “Barriers!” he ordered the soldiers following him. Each held out a hand, and was muttering a barrier spell.

The barrier formed, a blue wall of energy met with the crimson torrent of demonic energy. The mages grit their teeth as pressure was applied to the barrier. Blue runes were circling Emilio’s head, telling the men what to do. They moved the barrier a few meters back, the crimson torrent charged once more, but when it made contact with the barrier, the barrier was shaped differently, it was curved. When the crimson force made contact with it, the energy simply followed the curvature of the barrier until it was redirected upwards.

Emilio let out a deep breath, okay. One crisis down. He could sense less and less of his men. They were dying.

He grabbed his athame was muttering a spell. The biggest concentration of their force was here, if they wanted to eliminate him, they would appear in this area.

True enough, after a few moments the two entities appeared. They were Khlystovs but they weren’t human. One was a poor excused of a Doberman with its flaming internal organs and black exterior that was seemingly made out of smoke. Just beside the thing, the demon took the form of a young man and extremely pale with long hair. It wasn’t only his paleness that gave him away, but the dark beetle-like exoskeletons that he had for gauntlets and the feelers that grew from his forhead.

Just two of these, killing so many people.

Emilio finished his spell and pointed his atheme at the more human-looking demon. Runes circled around his head as he shouted orders telepathically. They were going survive this.

[Anatoly Khlystov]

It was a rare moment that Tolya chose to be obedient and do what he was told. For what it was worth, Sophie had already saved his life twice within the span of twenty-four hours, so he owed her that much at least. Tolya may have been incredibly immature but he was capable of seeing sense, at least on better days. For what it was worth, Sophie seemed to be handling the situation brilliantly. She moved like a goddess of vengeance, her hands conducting an orchestra of demonic chains. Nothing could get past the protective perimeter she had raised. Tolya was confident that Sophie would be able to hold off everything and he placed his hands behind his head and lay back against an imaginary bed. He remained floating there while Sophie continued to keep up the defense.

“Does it count as stupid if I summon a pillar of hellfire where they’re standing?” he asked jadedly. “I mean it does simplify things.” After his last performance he doubted Sophie would let him use anymore magic aside from sustaining his flight. In fact, if it wasn’t for the point of them keeping the advantage of the high ground she probably wouldn’t have let him do that either.

“No chance Tolya. You have no concept of control.” said Sophie, “Just because you can use a hundred percent of your power effortlessly doesn’t mean you have to every time. Your father mentioned that being economic with your magic was one of the most important lessons you have yet to learn.”

Tolya rolled his eyes behind Sophie’s back. “Everything that comes out from dad’s mouth has something to do with economics. I think it makes sense that when you have big feet, you stomp on the littler guys.”

Sophie didn’t answer anymore, but Tolya could make out that her pointed ears were twitching with irritation. What the hell was wrong with what he was saying? The motto of the Khlystov family was “ Komanda i vlastvuĭ”, it translated into Command and Conquer. Tolya honestly thought that his big feet philosophy was in line with that. Curiously, he extended his magical awareness towards their enemies, but the supersaturation of magic prevented him from picking up on anything worthwhile, it was like trying to make out a picture on the television despite terrible static. Tolya knew that his sensor abilities weren’t up to the challenge, but he did have another option. His demonic eye saw many things, one of those being the store and flow of magical energy within a mage. Were they really wearing themselves down trying to get past Sophie, compared the earlier actions of the Stregoni it didn’t seem like the bombardment of arcane blasts was in line with their creative tendencies.

Just like before, the effects of Tolya activating his demonic eye was noticeable. The whites of his eyes became flooded with fire and his pupil pushed into itself until it was just a narrow slit of pure blackness. It gave off small fluxes of fire and magical energy as Tolya manipulated its sight. He chose to look past the physical plane into the plane where the soul was visible. The spirit still flashed across different images but Tolya was quicker to pick up on the actual mage.

The mage also had quite a large reserve of magical energy. Even though it’s maximum was only about one-fourth of Tolya’s. That in itself was already quite vast. His strength in magic was undoubtedly above average, which made Tolya begin to speculate on who they were actually fighting. Strong mages usually came from old and powerful magical lines. There were exceptions to the case of course, but it was very likely that he and Sophie were dealing with some high-up Stregoni. Tolya let his demonic eye return to seeing only the physical plane and he examined the mage’s face; older than him for sure, but only five years at the most. That would mean that this guy was also a magical prodigy. Tolya’s lips tightened in slight irritation. He hated it when something made him feel not as special anymore. Hell, if there were hundreds of magical prodigies walking around, then all of them might as well just drop the title entirely.

The guy was mouthing something. Judging by the way his eyes kept perfect contact and the fact that runes were circling about his person, it could only mean that he was casting a spell. The spell was probably something nasty again, like that gigantic arc of white flame from earlier. The guy raised his gun and a visible orb of golden light was collected at the end of its barrel. Everything snapped back to normalcy as Tolya dismissed his demonic eye.

“Sophie, they’re going to fire something bigger.” He warned her.

Sure enough the blast of golden energy corkscrewed into the air. Sophie hissed before she directed a set of her chains to attack it like before. However, as soon as the wave of energy was touched by a chain it split into two bars. Sophie’s eyes widened for a moment, before they took on a determined quality. Portals erupted around her and from within them a hundred more chains spewed out trying to overwhelm the Stregoni’s assault. Tolya just watched at what seemed to be a reenactment of Hercules’ battle against the hydra. Each time the chain tried to destroy the beam, it split into two. The area was ignited by a blare of gold light emanating from the spell; it would have been noticeable for miles around. Not only that, it was less than thirty paces away from Tolya and Sophie now, and quickly closing in.

“I don’t think that worked…” said Tolya. There was still a semblance of a joke in how he said it, but it wasn’t a very funny joke. He immediately tried to fly away, heading to the east instinctively, but a chain wrapped around his midsection and he got yanked unceremoniously the other way. Tolya was disoriented with being dragged around like a kite, but there was another rough tug on the chain and the next moment he found himself being carried over Sophie's shoulder, her ribbed-wings flapping dangerously close to his face. It took him more than a few seconds to completely understand what was happening.

“What the hell Sophie! I can fly you don’t have to carry –“he didn’t get to finish his sentence as Sophie made an extremely sharp turn that knocked the wind out of Tolya. He felt like he was going to spew out all the milk he had drank from earlier.

“You can’t out maneuver those beams; humans were never built to fly Tolya.” Tolya actually felt some protective film of magic envelop him. At the speed that Sophie was flying, the air friction and the speed forces would kill him without the magical safeguard. The demoness spun, and looped in the air her wings beating powerfully as she tried to avoid the pursuing chords of light behind them. It was like riding an unpredictable roller coaster. He wracked his brain, despite the chaotic ride. There had to be a way to deal with all these beams, if they couldn’t destroy it then they had to negate it somehow. Sophie made another abrupt turn and this time Tolya actually half threw-up in his mouth.

“I have an idea!” he suddenly exclaimed. He didn’t know what spurred it, probably the combined taste of milk and bile in his mouth.

“What is it?” asked Sophie. “This better not be risky and stupid.” She began a straight pitch up into the air hoping that she could at least exhaust the chasing spell.

“I’m a genius Sophie, I know what I’m talking about!” Tolya had to shout over the increasing rush of wind. “You have to corrupt it. Then I’ll take it into my soul.”

“That’s too dangerous! You can’t absorb that much magical energy you’re going to kill yourself.”

“No I won’t! I’ve accounted for it, I’ll make it.” In all honesty, Tolya didn’t completely account for it. It was impossible to gather accurate data about the spell work whilst in the middle of an aerial circus act. But whatever, Tolya was powerful he could probably handle something like that…probably. “Come on Sophie, we can’t just keep running away from it.”

She seemed to contemplate it for a time, before finally deciding that Tolya was right. She pushed her wings to propel them as far forward as possible so that Tolya would have more time to prepare. A play like this, every single second would have to count. She let him go, and he re-sustained his flight before turning to face the oncoming energies. Sophie flung her hands forward and released the pure corrupting essence of her demonic magic. Even though the power sources of Khlystov and Stregoni spells were different, it was ultimately a magical force. Sophie’s essence would corrupt the spell, but that alone would not do much except incinerate her and Tolya with a more personal touch.Tolya’s plan was sound, once again, it was back to basics for him. The corruption would turn the spell into something more closely related to demonic energy, and essentially that was what Khlystovs used to cast their own spells. Tolya would simply take the energy into his soul, the same way he invoked and channeled demonic energies when he cast spells. Any other mage who attempted to do this would probably die since they wouldn’t be able to handle the large quantity of energies. But as if it wasn’t mentioned enough, Tolya wasn’t just any other mage.

Sophie’s essence made contact with the energy and at once it took effect, spreading through the beam and twisting it into something similar to the magical energies that her form was comprised of. Simultaneously, Tolya placed a hand on her shoulder and opened that part of his soul that made a mage a mage; he began muttering an incantation that would facilitate the siphoning of the energy into his soul.

”By these seven great names where with Solomon the Wise bound the seventy-two in a Vessel of Brass, ADONAI, PREYAI, TETRAGRAMMATON, ANAPHAXETON, INESSENFATALL, PATHTUMON, and ITEMON; The sermon goes mourning, pricking its hail. Slothful child that preys on the seed shall behead the drought. Glossolalia coats my skin and the turbulence shakes my voice. Corrupting natures of hell, pure essence of sin comest quickly and without delay from all parts and places of the earth and world wherever thou mayest be. I conjure and constrain thee, by all the names aforesaid. I will in the power and by the power of the name of the SUPREME AND EVERLASTING.”

There was a visible part where the once golden energy was corrupted into a mass of shadow and demonic fire. It twisted into each other, becoming a single tendril that was rushing into Tolya. His face was a mask of strain, but he clenched his teeth so hard that it hurt his jaw. There were times when his eyes threatened to roll up into his skull, but he fought back the urge. His blood seemed to boil and freeze simultaneously, and all the sensations with having demonic energy rage through his body rose up again. Tolya felt close to reaching his limit, he was virtually consuming the magical equivalent of a high explosive. His veins darkened becoming visible, marring his handsome features with something considerably demonic. It rose above his shirt, rising up his neck like some twisted tattoo. His complexion flushed making the dark network of veins more visible as it now spread to his cheeks and fingertips. Tolya didn’t know how long it took, to him it seemed like an eternity, but finally the last of the energies entered his soul and by sheer force of will he contained it.

It was exhausting, as exhausting as controlling an out-of-control river then abruptly closing the flood gates on it. Tolya couldn’t even spare any thought to maintain his flight anymore and Sophie had to catch him and bring him safely back down to the ground. She supported his weight as he breathed heavily making sure that the gigantic mass of corrupted energy was under control.

“Easy, Tolik…” said Sophie, the concern very apparent in her voice. Tolya kept the part of his soul open still, it was filled to the brim with the corrupted energies but slowly and surely he was dumping it back into the place where he would normally channel his demonic energy form. Tolya had to be careful, it would have to be the right balance of keeping the energy under control and letting it seep away from his soul. If he let it drain away too fast his life-force might go with it. Sophie was right beside him, that was good because right now he was vulnerable and she was the only protection he had.

[Marco Stregoni]

Be prudent in striving for perfection for one who aims for it in everything achieves it in nothing

[STYLE=text-align: justify; border-bottom: 10px solid #4d4d4d; padding: 10 0 10 0;]The sky was completely black now. Well save for the moon and the stars that were barely visible to those who had normal vision. Still, even with enhanced vision the stars couldn’t be that visible from the amount of flashes that came from the spells that were cast in the area.

From Marco’s view, flashes of light came from the hill as well as from the forest. Every Stregoni was now out in the open and was engaging the Khlystovs. But for what? Right now, everything was just a distraction for what he was currently doing, trying to defeat the boy. The boy had proven that he was powerful, but what would it take to defeat him? How many more lives should they throw away just so they could capture the boy?

Stregoni magic flared in the area. Even with the area oversaturated with their power, for someone like Marco it was relatively easy to sense where the more concentrated areas of magic were. There was too much magic in the area, it was getting rather stuffy. Yet, he had to see past that. He had to take out his distractions. He could not pay attention to any more flashes of light, the moon and the stars, the fighting that was happening in the forest and on the hill.

He had to concentrate on the spell he cast.

The spell was powerful and extremely useful in dealing with the demon and her chains. Yet, the spell needed a lot of concentration to maintain. A single beam was like trying to control a hyperactive Newfoundland dog, an extremely hyperactive and an extremely big Newfoundland dog. Whenever the beam split into two, Marco needed to deal with another Newfoundland. And with the amount of times he had to split the beams just so they wouldn’t be obliterated by the demon, he had his hands full in an extremely short amount of time.

Marco was standing, gun and atheme still griped in his hand, his palms were faced upward. A golden magic circled hovered a few centimeters above his hands. He was looking at the sky intently, manipulating the golden threads and making sure that none were being destroyed. At first it was an easy task but with every split the magic became more chaotic and with every split the magic circle became heavier.

But he couldn’t fail. So much was at stake, so many lives would be for nothing if he wasn’t successful. So he fueled the spell even more, the circle hovering above his palms grew more intense while the beams became more ferocious. Soon enough, the demon grabbed the boy and was flying away. Marco needed all the effort he could muster in manipulating the spell properly.

The spell called upon the dualistic nature of the world. Light and dark, sun and moon, life and death. Ultimately, Marco called upon a more offensive side to that philosophy by calling upon the God and Goddess to grant him the powers of chaos and control. Initially, the chaos part of the spell worked for him by making sure that the spell wasn’t destroyed by the demon but now that the demon took a more defensive stance and it was Marco who was pushing the offense, the chaos was working against him. He needed all the beams under his control and with the demon doing impossibly complicated aerial acrobatics that just made the job a whole lot worse.

Marco was looking intently at the demon, the beams were chancing them but with the number of beams Marco had to manipulate that was all he was able to do. Suddenly, in one massive flap, shot straight up into the air. Marco let out an exasperated groan, he was losing control. The circles were getting too heavy, the golden light from the circles started flickering. Overhead, the spell was getting erratic

“Fons” he said softly. The Lares was in front of him, blue spheres lazily floating near him and he was ready to strike just in case the demon and her ward decided to do something. He immediately went to Marco and grasped his arms, steadying them.

A little help? Fons said as suddenly a magic circle started forming below the two of them. It was the exact same one that was in Marco’s hands and it was of the same golden glow. Then everything just became…better. His head wasn’t so heavy, he wasn’t so exhausted anymore, the circles at his hands weren’t as heavy. He took a deep breath.

His eyes went back to the demon. With Fons lending a hand in keeping the spell in check, Marco looked at the demon once more. His newfound strength let him manipulate the beams with greater control.

The beams weren’t just traveling in a linear direction anymore, Marco was able to manipulate each beam individually. Yet the demon still evaded him.

Careful, the demon is planning something. Fons warned him.

The demon flapped her wings gained a lengthy lead over Marco’s spell, but instead of continuing on, the demon turned back to face the spell dead on. Did she think that she could counter the spell just like that? But true enough with what Fons said, the demon flared her power and unleashed towards his spell.

Soon Marco started losing his grip over the spell. Like it wasn’t his anymore. It wasn’t that his spell was hijacked, it was the very power of the spell that was changing, it was changing to something that he couldn’t manipulate anymore.

Marco, dissolve the spell! Fons said at once. Marco did, but a sizeable amount of the spell was already lost to them. Marco grit his teeth, Fons was already poised to defend the two of them. Marco cursed softly, he couldn’t see much from where he was, thankfully Fons provided him with images from his point of view.

The boy was casting…something. Marco couldn’t hear, since Fons didn’t let him hear that much but the spell. The former golden beam was now corrupted, it was a deep dark red and headed straight for the boy. Marco’s eyes widened in shock as the boy seemed to be consuming it.

Is he using that power to charge up another spell? Marco asked Fons.

Not likely, look at him.

Marco looked at the boy. A determined face was on him, he was what one would call having angelic features but the boy was anything but right now. Black veins were visible in his pale skin, eyes of blackness as well. Yet even with those grotesque features, the boy seemed to be struggling. Fons focused on the tenseness of the jaw, the furrowed eyebrows, the clenched fists. Yes, the boy was struggling as well.

Finally the boy was done and the demon came over to support him. Well at least his spell did something. The two were descending.

Marco, you can handle the boy. I’ll take care of the demon. Fons said the spheres of light started pulsating. We can’t do anything as long as the demon is with that boy.

Marco nodded. Fine.

Fons touched the atheme with his index finger and a second later runes were starting to form at the metal. It’s the sacred fire from your spell.

Marco nodded. Grazie (Thanks). Another hassle when dealing with the Khlystovs, they couldn’t use regular fire since most of the demons were immune to it. He looked at Fons, worry was in Marco’s eyes.

I’ll be fine, the Lares said nonchalantly. Rilassarsi (Relax), when’s the last time you faced an enemy this powerful? Before Marco could reply, Fons immediately disappeared. He soon found the Lares, around fifty meters above the ground. Fons was waving his hand, as if searching for something.

Finally he seemed to have found whatever he was looking for and yanked at it, suddenly one of the beams suddenly reappeared and was heading towards the boy and the demon but as it was approaching, the beam turned into chains. The chain slithered toward the demon and finally made contact with the chain that was around its waist like a sash.

Then the chain around its sash began changing. It was as if it was seeing it rust at an extremely fast rate but instead of rust it was simply turning blue like the chain Fons held. After a second or two, Fons yanked the chain upwards. Sending the demon towards the sky, he also threw his end of the chain towards the demon and it weaved through the air, trying to entangle her.

Marco took his cue from there. He looked at the kid, tired from consuming his last spell and pointed his atheme at him. A small ball of white flame appeared at the tip and with a thought an incredibly large jet of it was zooming towards the boy.

[Anatoly Khlystov]

Her instructions were simple, keep Tolya safe and alive. Gremory, or Sophie as she was called currently, found that the simple instruction was proving a lot more challenging even for a demon of her caliber. To objective of the convoy was to have a small fast moving force. There was only Kostya’s elite team of mages and each of them had very reliable demons, none ranking below the 5th circle. There were also about fifty more minor demons brought into the fore, and all of them were essentially meant to protect Tolya. If it wasn’t obvious, something had gone wrong. Despite all the preparations, things were now far from controlled. Kostya’s force was fighting at the hill. Tolya had made the inane decision to send the only other two Goetic demons far away. Right now, she was the only other protective layer than separated Tolya from being completely open to a Stregoni attack.

She looked down at her charge; he had consumed so much magical energy. The last spell he cast was actually something demonologists were supposed to use in a concert of three or more, it was meant to allow all of them to ease the flow of demonic energy whenever they were attempting to summon a high-leveled demonic entity. But what did Tolya use it for; to absorb a torrential gale of corrupted magical energy. Humans weren’t supposed to be able to do something like that; their souls weren’t meant to handle such high levels of raw power. But somehow the stupid little boy was alive. He had the devil’s own luck, if she should say so herself. She tried to steady him, keeping him from falling down and compressing his lungs. The way he was, even the act of consciously breathing might decide whether he would live or not.

Gremory was too distracted with Tolya’s safety, that she was too late in noticing when a chain wrapped itself around her, pinning her wings and arms to her side. She let out a hiss, and tried to break free but a magical reinforcement flowed through the chain and her brute strength didn’t suffice. Suddenly she was yanked high-up into the air and it was all she could do just to watch as Tolya dwindled smaller and smaller while she was pulled into the sky. She turned her head and followed the chain it to its source and found the Lares. Tolya didn’t know about them, but she did. The Khlystovs and the Stregoni had their animosities date back quite far and in her service, she had come across many, battled many, and killed too few than she preferred. They were once living mages that ascended into a higher form of being. Even though they weren’t as powerful as her or the other Goetic demons, they could still perform spells, which made them that much more dangerous.

Her eyes blazed with energy and a flaring red aura ignited around her body and with a wail she shattered the chains under the force of her power. Her wings spread out on either side and she prepared to swoop down to Tolya again, but suddenly the Lares was in front of her. She tried to move around him, not even trying to engage in a fight but merely get back to Tolya. She managed to get a little bit closer this time, but once again he blocked her path.

She hissed at him again, baring her fangs. He was trying to keep her from returning to Tolya, apparently he knew how to deal with the Khlystovs. Tolya was much more powerful than the other one, he just needed to recover in time.

---

Tolya was down on all fours, but Sophie was just there making sure he was steady. He could barely spare the tiniest bit of attention for controlling his limbs or maintaining his balance, not without risking his life, or worse his ability to channel magic. The plan worked though. But damn…for a moment there Tolya actually thought that it might fail. What had he been thinking? Well, he was thinking that he was awesome and indestructible, that was what. A smile crept on Tolya’s face at his own thoughts but he suddenly felt his hold over the energies waver. He quickly focused back on the task of controlling and releasing the energy. Thankfully, Sophie was right there her task was to protect him and even though he would hate to admit it, that’s what he needed right now.

Suddenly he felt Sophie’s supportive hold on his shoulders get yanked away, Tolya was surprised but he couldn’t afford surprise with his current predicament. He just watched his view change from grass, to the line of trees, to a night sky set ablaze by warring spell work as he fell on his back. Sophie was getting pulled higher into the sky, a glowing blue chord wrapped around her mid section. Tolya would bet that the Stregoni spirit was at the other end of that chord; he was beginning to really hate that thing.

By now, Tolya had managed to release enough of the corrupting energy for him to regain control over his body; he pushed himself up only to realize that the other mage was on the aggressive again. Of course, that was such a basic tactic when dealing with other practitioners, particularly evokers like the Khlystovs. Isolate the master from their slave, and then make your move. Spells took time so without the ability to rely on a demon’s arsenal of powers things were usually in the realm of the fucked up.

Tolya watched as a ball of flame condensed at the tip of the atheme, that couldn’t be good. The mage purposely aimed the ceremonial dagger at Tolya, confident that without the demon there would no longer be any difficulties. The ball of flame quivered a little before it imploded into itself and spewed out a violent stream like a flame thrower. At this point time seemed to slow down for Tolya, he didn’t know how. Maybe it was just the vivid prospect of his own demise that pumped adrenalin into his brain. The point was he was aware of every painful second that the jet of magical fire ate up the distance between him and the mage. He was aware of how perfectly useless he was just half-sitting there, filled with corrupted foreign magical energy to his core but having too much of it to control safely. Maybe this was what his father meant by being economic with his powers. Just because he could afford to call unto a hundred-percent of his ability so easily didn’t mean that he needed to do so all the time. Trying to contain and control this much energy was like trying to ride the world’s most violent and most stubborn horse bareback and greased. Invoking demonic energy was something, or in this case releasing it, was totally different from using spells to form that energy into the outcome you wanted. It was about as impossible to perform them together, as it was to look left and right at the same time.

The fire hadn’t quite reached, but once again Tolya could already feel the heat of it blossoming on his face. As far as he was concerned, the fight had turned into nothing but a twisted race of speed and luck. In those few seconds the only thing that mattered was whether Tolya would be able to release enough of the energy and cast a spell to defend him. Some part of his mind was portioned into running through the list of protective spells which he was familiar with, none were remotely short enough to recite without being hit by the fire first. This fight seemed to be exhausting his ability to think outside the box, but he needed one more hat trick, just one more metaphorical fluffy white bunny.

The fire was about two meters away, by now the weaker willed would have accepted death. Maybe Tolya would have done so as well if he wasn’t so concentrated on the magical energies raging inside him. Suddenly, there was a sort of click inside. For a moment he thought he might just have been imagining it, but then he was sure. Tolya brow furrowed and he trained his gaze at the Stregoni mage ahead of him.

”ANAPHAXETON. Breaking bones, Impatient Lantern.” Tolya tread dangerously close to not enunciating the words properly, and the speed at which he drew the tiny pentagram on the soil with his finger just barely got the proportions right. But the spell activated at once, and a certain sense of nostalgia hit Tolya because this was one of the very first spells which he learned, he would never have thought that he’d revisit it again, let alone use it to save his life. The pentagram ignited with an eerie blue light and about six feet above its center a ghostly orb of light twisted into existence. It was a basic illumination spell, but Tolya fed it so much energy that it burned bright enough to blind everything within a hundred meter. But obviously blinding people wasn’t Tolya’s intention, the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, and Tolya needed his own shadow to be as dark as it could. He made sure to keep his head down; looking directly into his own spell would have burst his corneas as easily as it would have anybody else’s, but right beneath him there was no lack of activity.

Tolya felt his consciousness extend out from his body and seep into his shadow. To anybody watching Tolya, they’d see the shadow below him suddenly bubble and take on physical qualities like it were a mass of heated tar. But it didn’t stop there; Tolya’s shadow expanded outward, completely neglecting the laws of physics regarding the projection of light. Numerous tentacles like appendages sprouted from below and immediately twisted themselves into a protective dome around Tolya. This wasn’t a spell - well not like usual mage spells - it didn’t require a ritual. In many ways, this power was now a natural part of Tolya, almost making him gifted in a way. It was stolen from a shadow demon one of the six powers that Tolya had imbibed into his soul through Solomonic demonology rituals.

Above him the spell imploded in itself after a few seconds of existence, such a basic spell didn’t have near as much capacity to handle so much energy and so the orb of light burst apart like a light bulb that had too much electricity run through its filaments. He watched through the semi-opaque blackness as the fire enveloped his barrier of shadow. The fires were obstinate trying to eat at his magically augmented shadow. Tolya knew his shadow would hold, but he wasn’t about to keep defensive. Tolya stood up and he began muttering a curse…no not a profanity…an actual curse; this one caused a person’s shadow to take on qualities similar to a magical EMP. Tolya had made sure to learn the spell considering its ideal application to his unique skill set. He took his time with the spell; he was no longer in the danger of killing himself. He touched five points in the air as he recited.

”In the names of SHELHABIRON, ADMIRON and GOLOHAB, I call thee, in the name of PATHTUMON, and by the created QLIPPOTH to torture and burn, to torment. A terrifying company of ravenous teeth, and amorphous tendrils of wire…”

The five points where his finger had hovered suddenly there were small tongues of fire. They flickered for a moment before moving and leaving a tail for fire in their wake to form a pentagram in the air. Tolya waved his hand and the pentagram was enclosed in runes and written secret names.

”…Those, who have the ability to merge together into a frightening mass of rolling destruction. They undulate and consume man leaving Living Dead in their wake. They care little for the pain of common man, but love the torment of those who are aware.”

Tolya made a motion as if swatting away some insignificant bug and at once the pentagram expanded pressing against his dome of shadow and melting into it. The dome of shadow burst like a bubble, tendrils of blackness consumed the sacred fire banishing away the magical energies that held their shape. Tolya was exposed once again, standing there as his shadow was receding back into its original form. He was laughing manically, as he audibly cracked his neck and other joints to loosen them after the near-contortion experience he just had. The veins on his face were visibly receding causing his cherubic countenance to return, but still there was something considerably demonic by the way that he was carrying himself. He began to walk towards the Stregoni and as he did, his inhuman shadow moved with him, traveling across the face of the ground in the form of many arms sinuous arms.

“I have to say, you’re pretty good considering that you’ve almost killed me thrice now.” Said Tolya, he finally switched to English, he could have chosen to speak Italian but that would somehow seem like deference, and he wasn’t comfortable with the idea. “That doesn’t happen very often, and here I don’t even know your name.”

There was a loud bang as a shot was fired, but Tolya was fast and he didn’t even waver from his slow advance. One of the shadowy arms peeled itself off the ground and moved fast enough to catch the bullet an inch away from Tolya’s face. He held out his hand and the shadowy tendril dropped the bullet into his palm. Tolya examined the thing between his fingers. It was a pretty powerful round, all the more dangerous considering the runic inscriptions engraved into the cap. Tolya closed his fist around the tiny projectile and recited another quick curse that melted the thing in his grasp.

“Okay, so you don’t seem to want to be civil, so I’ll go first. My name is Anatoly Vsevolodovich Khlystov, I am the fourth son of Vsevolod D’yavolich Khlystov, Vor v Zakone of the Khlystov Bratva. Random facts about me, I’m approximately the magical equal of four of you on your best day. I have an over-protective demonic nanny who’s been keeping me on a short-leash. But now that you’ve taken her out of my hair there’s really little else stopping me from crushing you under the soles of my really nice and expensive sneakers. So, you feel like giving me your name yet?”

He finally stopped walking, and was about ten paces away from the other mage. Tolya did that on purpose, if this was going to be a face to face magical duel, then better start things off with a traditional flare.

[Marco Stregoni]

Be prudent in striving for perfection for one who aims for it in everything achieves it in nothing

[STYLE=text-align: justify; border-bottom: 10px solid #4d4d4d; padding: 10 0 10 0;]Marco, be careful. They boy an immense amount of magical energy. Power-wise, he’s like four of you put together, said Fons in his head.

Marco let his spell continue. Four? Four times the magical powers he possessed? What chance did he have against those odds? What on earth was he going to do in order to –

He forced himself to stop thinking about that and he concentrated once more on the jet of what flame coming from his athame. The force was so strong that he needed both hands just to support it. he let himself clam down. No, he would deal with just like the others. He just had to have a much more creative plan of doing this.

Wait, I thought you were dealing with the demon? Marco spared a thought to reply back.

Pretty much, all I need to do is piss her off and that’s an incredibly easy task right now.

Marco was just about to reply but suddenly there was a flash of light. It was so intense that for a moment Marco lost control over the jet of flame and took a second to refocus it back at the boy. But as soon as he recovered from that flash, he once again looked at the direction of the boy.

Even with a flash of light, the boy was suddenly protected by a semi-opaque black orb. Why did he need a flash of light? The flames were hitting the barrier hard, but it was still standing. Marco cursed under his breath. Well he was fighting someone four times stronger than him, to think that he would win with such brute methodologies was a joke. Still, that did not stop the sinking feeling that his spell was being countered so easily.

The boy was muttering something, for Marco that was the signal for him to stop the spell. There was no use battering that barrier anymore. There was another time where he could use that energy. Marco started muttering a spell.

The orb of blackness suddenly exploded like a bubble and tendrils of black…things were starting to consume the white flame. Marco’s eyes widened a bit, panic started to blossom but Marco was familiar enough with that feeling to easily quench it down. The boy’s laughter filled the air and even though the boy didn’t have any black veins in his face anymore, it was the boy’s posture and demeanor that made him look equally demonic.

Now that was when Marco was a little put off. Where before his eyebrows were arched in surprised; now they were furrowed in frustration. He had completely no regard of what was happening. Marco had a feeling that the boy was just treating this like some big and elaborate game. Lives were put on the line and the boy could just laugh about it?

The boy started to talk. No spells, no attacks, nothing. At least not yet. But what he did even frustrated Marco even more. The boy was treating this like a big game! Marco took aim and shot a round at the boy. Suddenly a black hand sprouted forth from the boy’s shadow and caught it. So, those were shadows…

Marco was at the last word of his spell, but deliberately stopped. It was a peculiar feeling. To stop a spell at the last word. It was like an itch that you just wanted to take care of, a burp that had developed but you just wanted to stop it because it was inappropriate, but to release the spell prematurely would have no tactical purpose.

The boy started speaking again. After melting the bullet he was holding with a curse. God, Marco was even more infuriated, actually he didn’t know what he was feeling. It was said that there was nothing perfect in the world, that no matter how good a thing had, there was always the flipside of it. For the boy and his talk about being four times more powerful than Marco on Marco’s best day and his expensive sneakers which he described as extremely nice (but was looking so tacky that it begged the question of the boy’s taste or lack of) and telling Marco how to be civil but introducing himself with a sentence that Marco could only describe as a lot of V’s with vowels attached to them, sure the boy may be powerful but by the gods Marco was dealing with a self-absorbed, egotistical, narcissistic megalomaniac and, yes, he had to use all those adjectives because just using one word cannot hope to capture the boy’s extremely bloated sense of self-worth.

“Yeah for someone four times more powerful than me, you also talk four times more than the average person,” he replied, “call me Marco. Oh and oblivion.”

That was the last word of his spell. Marco was suddenly pulled back. It was one of the effects of the spell but it surprised him nonetheless. Suddenly the place where Marco was just standing was the center of an enormous and powerful explosion of blue energy. It was at least twenty meters in radius and it expanded terribly fast.

As soon as the spell stopped pulling him back, he took deep breaths to get his bearings. He was a few steps outside the explosion’s radius. He looked at the general direction of the boy, Antoly. At least he could attach a name at his target. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be happy or just frustrated once more. The universe can be a very funny thing at times; right now it seemed that it bestowed immense power to an extremely "mature" teenager. He didn’t know if the universe was just screwing with them or just adhering to the saying that nobody is perfect. Either way, Marco needed to finish this soon.

---

Fons was in the sky with the demon. For a supposed fight between two powerful entities, there was a relatively little exchange between the two of them. Sure, she launched a few projectiles at him while he attacked with a few spells but neither one was really in it for the fight.

Their thoughts were on other matters.

Fons was confident that Marco would find a way to overcome his enemy. He was a Stregoni after all. Even in Fon’s time he faced an enemy that was at least twice as powerful as he was. He remembered that he defeated that sorcerer by non-magical means. Well that wasn’t exactly appropriate for this fight but it seemed to him that the pattern of the Stregoni fighting enemies that were more powerful than they were was a pattern that tended to repeat. Well, bottom line was that Marco needed to think of something creative if he was going to win this one.

He looked at the demon in front of him. If she was capable of casting the Evil Eye, well with her face with an expression like that, he would have been dead already. The demon made a quick movement to her right, Fons followed suit. The hissed in annoyance at Fons’ interfering but he wouldn’t have it. He had to give Marco a fighting chance in defeating the boy and with this demon hanging on to the boy like a warden to a prisoner that wasn’t happening.

He made a big and goofy smile at the demon. His task was to piss her off and with the amount of pride that she had, there was no quicker way to piss her than to goof around.

“You aren’t trying to get away from me aren’t you? I thought we had a really good thing going on back there.” He said while making an adorable sad face. He was thankful that Valentino shared with him his experiences in dealing with this particular kind of demon with Vincenzo and Vsevolod constantly butting heads the those two had met more times than they wanted too. I had reach, she had flexibility, the older Lares usually said, but as to what Valentino meant Fons never really tried to find out. Either way, the whole thing was peculiar, wasn't this demon working for Vsevolod? Or did that other demonologist just give the demon to his son? The latter sounded more probable, how else could the demon just act so motherly toward her charge?

Far off in the forest, Fons could sense magical energy building up. That was peculiar. There were three theaters of engagement so far and that was far from any of them. But whatever it was, it was Stregoni in nature, even as an entity Fons couldn’t help but pray to the gods, hoping that whatever that was, it was going to help out Marco.

[Anatoly Khlystov]

“Yeah for someone four times more powerful than me, you also talk four times more than the average person, call me Marco. Oh and oblivion.”

Tolya didn’t have time to react the older boy’s repartee, because he went along and had to ignite one hell of a detonation spell. Tolya threw up his hand and once again his shadow rose up from beneath him and enveloped him like a cocoon. His previous spell was still in operation, so his shadow still retained the properties to disrupt the frequencies of other magical forces. The detonation of arcane energy was defended against, but the concussive force that came with it still blasted Tolya off his feet. The shadow that wrapped around him desperately tried to stay attached and for a moment it looked like Tolya had a wad of tar that connected him to the ground. But finally it gave, ripping off from his feet as he spun across the air. Tolya furrowed his brows and with an impetuous force of will, he forced himself to stop in midair with power of flight. Okay, that was four times now and in Tolya’s opinion it wasn’t funny anymore.

What was it that the other boy did? Was he a spell weaver? At that age? Tolya didn’t think so; it must have been a delayed incantation. If Tolya wasn’t so miffed he could have appreciated the skill of the other mage. Delayed incantations were difficult to pull off, even he couldn’t do it. It was like bringing water to a boil but then holding down the lid. It wasn’t very easy, and it often ended with getting your hands burned. A pang of jealousy washed through Tolya as the realization slowly sunk in. No, he couldn’t have this Zalupa showing him up anymore.

He flew forward much too fast and much to aggressive as if he aimed to flying-tackle the other boy. But at the last moment Tolya pitched up and came to a stop before landing a few paces from where the other boy was standing. The ground beneath Tolya’s feet was blackened to char by the spell, but he didn’t care and barely even noticed the crunching sound that his feet made as he landed.

“Okay, Marco is it?” began Tolya his brows were furrowed and he was grinding his teeth, which was a sure sign, for anybody who knew him, that his temper was flaring. His fingers also flexed and Tolya wanted nothing more than to close them around the other mage’s neck and throttle him until his eyes rolled behind his head and he frothed in the mouth. “You want to play like that? Well, you better hold onto your knickers because I’m about to call in my starting line-up.”

Tolya lifted his hand over his head, and a pulse of energy emanated from the ring he wore. The magical circle ignited beneath his feet, a harsh crimson light. A few paces ahead, two Triangles of Solomon also appeared, drawing themselves upon the earth with the red energy.

“Dantalion, Shax…attend!” shouted Tolya, and as he did his voice seemed to take on a double timbre, it reverberated around the clearing. The words left his mouth, the power of the circle morphing it turning it into magic and transmitting it across the triangles of Solomon towards wherever the summoned demons were.

---

Dantalion’s face was a mask of pure malevolence and hatred, and it was all directed right at the Italian man that he held by the throat. His feelers twitched in hatred as he looked deep into the other man’s eyes. The other man stared back still cocky and rebellious despite the damage that Dantalion and Shax had done to his group. The ground was practically littered in mage bodies, there would have been more but this same man had ordered the other to scatter. Obviously he realized that having them all clumped together just made it extremely easy for the Goetic demons to drop powerful attacks that took out dozens of them at a time. But Dantalion and Shax weren’t without their own casualties; in fact Dantalion had his right arm and most of his right shoulder completely blasted off. Once again, it was this guy whom he had to thank.

Shax as off to the side, he was sitting erect like some obedient dog waiting for his master, but in actuality he was chasing down the other members of this group. As he stood there, dog-ish creatures of fire and shadow moved out from his body and ran into the forest. The mages who had escaped were stragglers at this point and Shax’s minor manifestations of himself would suffice to deal with them.

Dantalion brought his attention back to man he clutched in his hands. His mind was proving extremely resilient to crack; Dantalion had been at it for quite some time now. Not too far off from where he stood one of the other Stregoni mages was screaming and writhing on the ground, she was probably beyond any point of mental help now. The visions that Dantalion embedded into her mind would drive even the most hard-worn warriors to insanity. He was trying to do the same with this man, but the mage was powerful and he was unyielding.


This was his specialty, shattering super-egos and defiling psyches. He knew that if could bore into this man’s head he could quite possibly affect every other person he was telepathically linked to. “I swore I was going to make you pay for my arm, and I meant that.” said Dantalion through gritted teeth. His words were met by a spit to the face, the man still had enough nerve and strength to do that it seemed.

” Tornare ai vostri padroni, schiavo. (Go back to your master, slave)” said the man to add insult to injury. Dantalion couldn’t even wipe the spit away since he was missing in arm. Dantalion just smiled a very wide grin; despite his handsome face the smile was frightening. Not for the first time, he didn’t appreciate his power to understand every single language in the world.

“Okay, fuck this…I’m just gonna go ahead and kill you.” he tightened his grip around the mage’s neck. He wasn’t breaking it yet, but he would slowly and tantalizingly. He was literally a hair’s breadth away from hearing bones crack, but instead Dantalion heard something else…it was the fucking boy’s voice. Of all the goddamn luck, why did he have to be recalled now? Dantalion tried to finish the job and snap the old mage’s neck but the triangle of Solomon ignited beneath his feet and he felt his entire essence implode around his mid section and he was whisked away to wherever the hell Tolya was.

---

Tolya watched as in the center of the two triangles, Dantalion and Shax appeared. At once, Tolya was shocked to see that Dantalion was missing an arm. His lips pursed in irritation, as he fought back the urge to reprimand his demon for getting damaged like that. Now it didn’t have the same terrifying effect he wanted. Shax seemed to be doing well, if anything he looked kind of bored.

Of course, Dantalion didn’t waste any time to turn around and face Tolya, intense fury on his face. “What the fuck you little shit! I was just about to kill the leader of this entire Italian fuck-fest! Couldn’t you have summoned as back a few more seconds lat – “

Tolya flung his hand and gave Dantalion a full armed smack with the back of his hand. It silenced the demon but more so out of shock. Usually, Tolya took part in the heated exchange of insults between him and Dantalion. He was rarely out right violent like this, often preferring the sweet win of the argument. It was obvious that Marco had gotten him really riled up.


Seeing the display, Shax immediately stood up on his haunches and let out a few spews of flame from his mouth. “So, do we kill this guy now then?” he asked Tolya, not eager at all to meet the boy’s wrath. Both demons knew that Tolya was a crazy cruel boy, but the way he was now they knew right away that something was different. Dantalion righted himself, shaking away the astonishment from what had just happened and turned towards Marco. A blade of demonic energy manifested in his remaining hand, and both Goetic demons began to advance forward.

“Stop!” suddenly called out Tolya, and the two demons did exactly that. They both turned towards Tolya, looking at what could possibly cause him to hold back on an obviously easy kill.

“What is it?” asked Dantalion, but then he noticed that the magical circle beneath Tolya hadn’t extinguished yet, and at that moment a third triangle of Solomon appeared. No, was the boy really going to try and pull of something like that? Tolya raised his arm level and parallel to the ground. Okay, it looks like he was.

”I conjure thee Bifrons the Knowledgeable Earl of Hell, who has power over twenty-six legions. I invoke you, and by invocating, conjure you; and being armed with power from the supreme Majesty, I strongly command you, by Him who spoke and it was done, and to whom all creatures are obedient; and by this ineffable name, TETRAGRAMMATON JEHOVA.”

Just like before, Tolya’s voice took on a double-timbre as he recited the conjuration. He bound Dantalion and Shax into his service, but there was one more who had his seal engraved upon Tolya’s ring. In the center of the triangle a giant arm burst out. It wasn’t just a human arm, it was pitch black and although roped in heavy muscle and skin tearing sinew it was obvious that the arm was created from the bodies of smaller humanoid creatures. Next came the creatures head, it was a man’s head except just as black and also made up from the little creatures. Two large yellow eyes peaked out from a protruding forehead and spade like teeth lined its mouth. The creature pulled itself out of the triangle and once fully outside, revealed itself to be a hulking brutish monster, about eight feet tall and bearing a physique that looked like he could snap a werewolf in half.

Tolya crossed his arms over his chest and spoke out to Marco. “These are my demons. I’m going to enjoy seeing them rip you apart.” said Tolya. His words were interpreted as a command it seemed because the next thing that happened was that all three Goetic demons rushed towards Marco.

---

Sophie was finding it extremely difficult to shake off this Lares. He was nothing like her encounters with other Lares before. It seemed that he was playing some sort of game with her. Honestly, she had more than enough games with Tolya, she didn’t really need one more entity trying to annoy her in that way. At least far below it seemed that Tolya had recovered in time, she could sense surges and rippled of energy that could only have come from him. Who else had the sense to cast that particular shadow spell?


““You aren’t trying to get away from me are you? I thought we had a really good thing going on back there.”

She spun around to meet face him in midair. “Whatever gave you that idea? If you really want to fight then maybe I should appease you.” She said spitefully. If this idiot spirit really wanted to take her up on a fight, then maybe it was time she actually took him seriously. Maybe if she stopped trying to out-maneuver him in the air and simply killed him, she’d be able to get back to Tolya faster. Suddenly, she felt the arrival of two Goetic demonic presences below. She looked down and saw that Dantalion and Shax appearing at the center of the triangles of Solomon. A smile appeared on her face as she turned back to look at the Lares.

"Either way, it's not really important if you keep me here. I'm not the boy's demon...I'm only for rent.” Tolya was a stubborn, annoying, conceited, perpetual thorn on her side but she knew his abilities, she knew his strengths. In the past centuries she hadn’t ever come across a mage as powerful as Tolya was. She decided that she would leave him to his dues down there, the other Goetics would handle everything while she engaged this overly eager spirit in the battle he wanted.

Sophie’s eyes suddenly ignited with a vivid crimson energy as she positioned her hands to her side. She began gathering energy from the surrounding area between her hands, and it subsequently took on the form of a large, purple globe. She then hurled the globe in the direction of the Lares and as it traveled it expanded outward growing in size and threatening to swallow everything in its wake. It would be easy to surmise that if Fons was hit by the growing orb of energy, it wouldn’t be very gentle.

[Marco Stregoni]

Be prudent in striving for perfection for one who aims for it in everything achieves it in nothing

[STYLE=text-align: justify; border-bottom: 10px solid #4d4d4d; padding: 10 0 10 0;]There was something unnerving about two extremely powerful demons just staring at you. For Marco to say that he was unafraid, well that would be a downright lie. He could feel the cold sensation of nervousness blossoming in his stomach. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. He wouldn’t let his fear get the better of him. “Think, analyze and react,” that was a common mantra in his early training and it was a manta that was still rang true now. Marco couldn’t do anything just yet, he felt that any sudden movement would just provoke the demons in attacking him and at this distance, Marco had no idea how’d he able to have enough time to cough up a good enough spell.

The boy was muttering something, another spell no doubt. The boy’s voice had a double-timbre to it. There was a triangle right in front of the boy too. Marco furrowed his eyebrows, another summoning spell? Really, did the boy think that it would take three powerful demons to take him down? Or was this just a show of strength that the boy could handle more demons than usual? He heard the rumors about Khlystovs and their way of magic, it was said that it took an extremely good amount of effort to keep your demons in line, usually just one was a problematic load already, but three? Basing on the boy’s attitude earlier, with the megalomaniac and egotistical tendencies that the boy had it was probably the latter, the boy just wanted to show off.

What would he do now? He couldn’t just attack the boy. Bah, that wouldn’t serve any tactical purpose; the boy would just use the demons to protect him. If Fons couldn’t strike the boy with a demon protecting him, how could he?

He took a deep breath. He needed to get away from the boy or at least get the demons away from the boy. He followed that thought, the boy controlled the demons. So take away the boy and the demons would follow through, right? Well easier said than done as those demons were an extremely difficult roadblock.

Marco started a spell, a spell to temporarily give him the ability to jump a few meters at a time. That spell was a bit risky, his body wouldn’t handle the stress of the magic if he jumped way too much in the next hour. But in the circumstance he was in right now, that risk was necessary, if not imperative.

“Grigori of the East, Guardian of the Watchtower of the East, avatar of the element of wind, exemplar of mobility and freedom, bestow the great winds on this one…” he started. He could feel the tingling sensation at his fingertips again. Magical runes were starting to form at his palms and more were starting to appear at the rest of his body, they were appearing as if they were directly being written on his body.

The boy finished his spell and suddenly another demon clawed its way in the physical realm. Although, Marco tried to keep his fears controlled, he couldn’t help a certain amount of desperation creep its way in Marco’s spellcasting.

“…cast your great winds on this one, for this one may hear the cold whispers of the lonely wind and elude the warm embrace of eternal death,” More runes were being written on Marco. Because of his clothing, not much was visible but underneath, his body was now full of runes, and they glowed in a whitish-blue hue. The runes also felt different, before where there was just a certain warmth to them, now it was hotter and uncomfortably so. Marco hissed as the spell continued to be laid on him. The runes stung like water on sunburnt skin, the feeling even grew worse as he finished the spell but as soon as Marco said the final word, the stinging feeling only lasted one more second before vanishing. Now Marco felt pulses of energy running through his body, as if his heartbeat had grown more powerful.

“These are my demons. I’m going to enjoy seeing them rip you apart,” Marco squinted his eyes slightly at what the boy said. So the boy was just showing off and applying a brute force method in getting the job done. With that, the demons took their cue and they all lunged towards him.

He took a deep breath and made a jump backwards, but as soon as he landed he stumbled. He cursed out loud as his knees buckled. No! This was not happening! He tried to stand up but his knees just wouldn’t cooperate. He looked up, the demons were closer now. He took a deep breath, even in the seemingly last moment of his life he refused to let panic and fear take control of him. No! He would not! If his life were to end now, he wouldn’t go down screaming like a coward. There would be honor in his death. Not that he would give up, he took out his athame and hoped. Maybe he could let the flames distract the demons long enough for him to recover. It was a longshot, but that was the only shot that he had right now. Marco pointed at the demons, a small, white, ball of flame started to appear at the tip of Marco’s athame, he aimed at the demo –

Suddenly the demons just stopped. One of Marco’s eyebrows rose up in curiosity. What the heck just happened? The demons were struggling in their unseen shackles. A net made of energy suddenly appeared. It was made from a bluish white energy. There was also a whistling sound; the pitch of that sound was slowly getting higher and higher as if some bomb was going to explode. Marco took the opportunity to strike the demons once more. But soon enough, Marco noticed something else.

As the flames from his atheme made their way towards the demons, the net became more and more white, the whistling sound’s pitch had also hit an all-time high and it wasn’t long before the net suddenly exploded in a blinding white light.

Marco covered his eyes to protect himself from going blind, but he wasn’t able to protect himself from the concussive force that came after. Marco was knocked off his feet and was lunged a few meters back.

As Marco lay on the ground, Marco still had no idea who had cast that spell, when suddenly there was a voice suddenly behind him. It was Alessandro.

“Need help?” he said, as he offered his and to Marco.

“Wait, you cast the spell? And how did you get here?” Marco said as he stood up. He looked at the center of the explosion; a huge pillar of smoke was rising from the ground.

“Si (yes), I cast a jumping spell on myself too, amongst other spells I might add,” Alessandro replied as he runes started forming around the other mage. Marco just nodded. Alessandro…Marco couldn’t help but admire the other man’s spellwork.

I’d rather we talk here, so it’s less obvious.

Fine. Any plans on how to do this?

Several actually.

---

As soon as the demon disappeared, Emilio dropped down and was on all fours. He coughed and was gasping for air. As soon as he was ready, he tried to stand up and just doing that was already somewhat a struggle. But no, he needed to lead his men. At the last minute he told his men to disperse. The enemy was already too powerful, with everyone at the clearing, it was just easy pickings for the two demons.

Emilio looked grim. Two. Just two demons to take out half of his men. Runes suddenly appeared around his head once more granting him telepathy; his mind was searching for anyone still alive. He found one, not too far, but the thoughts on the woman were chaotic. It was hardly distinguishable from an animal’s thoughts.

“Maria,” he whispered softly as his eyes finally saw her. The woman was a mess. Her hair in total disarray and she was sobbing. He went to her and knelt down, cradling her. She continued her sobs. “Kill me, kill me, make it stop,” Maria kept repeating. Emilio looked at her eyes and there was something just…off. Like the life had already been gone from her eyes. Emilio took a deep breath. She was beyond hope. The demon that had attacked her – Emilio shook his head, he remembered the mental images in his mind. The demon filled it with images of his friends and loved ones dying over and over again and in gruesome and gory deaths at his hands with each image being worse than the last. As if the images of gory deaths weren’t painful enough, the demon made it so that it was Emilio who was actually doing the kill.

Maria was beyond hope.

He closed his eyes and said a prayer, praying for the gods to give her safe passage in the infinite ocean of death, that she would be a companion to Diana, the moon goddess, like she had been a companion to him and to the rest of the unit. He took out his athame and without hesitation he plunged it in her heart. As Maria was being cradled by him, dying, she was still quietly sobbing as she slipped from this realm to the next. Well the demon had actually made a mental image into reality.

And that hurt Emilio most of all.

Emilio continued to find more of his men. He found some, but they were too few. He took a deep breath. No. He would not give into despair, he would be strong for his men. He walked to the edge of the forest and saw that the fighting on the hill hadn’t stopped yet. Then there was a flash of blinding white light, followed by a weak tremor. Emilio looked at the direction of the light. He saw two figures there. Marco and Alessandro.

Well it seemed the two were holding their own against the enemy. Emilio was no sensor but he could sense the incredible power coming from just one source. Was that the boy they were targeting? It had to be him. No one person was giving away that much magical energy and he had been repeatedly told that the boy was told to possess incredible power.

He furrowed his eyebrows. Would he help them or his troops at the hill? He looked towards the hill again, casting a spell to improve his eyesight. He could see some Khlystov soldiers try to deviate from the fight there, slowly making their way towards Marco, Alessandro and the boy. No, he would not let that happen.

Emilio issued orders telepathically once more, directing his men to him, once they were ready enough they would buy some time for Marco and Alessandro, Emilio would need to make sure that no Khlystov interfered with Marco and Alessandro’s fight.

---

Way up in the air, above the two theaters of combat, it seemed that the demon had finally given in and engaged Fons in a fight. For the Lares, he couldn’t be more than thrilled. A determined looked appeared in Fons’ face as the demon finally let loose a purple orb and to make matters worse, the purple orb started to grow in size as it traveled from the demon to Fons. Okay, so dodging was out of the question.

Fons concentrated and suddenly a circle of runes was forming in front of him. As the orb was almost upon him, the Lares suddenly waved his arm and a beam of light came from the circle of runes that was in front of him. The beam of light hit the sphere dead center and it hit with enough force that he had managed to punch a hole at the middle. From where Fons was standing it looked like a gigantic purple rum cake. But whatever, it wasn’t long before Fons flew in at the tunnel he managed to create.

Once inside the sphere, he let loose a wave of energy, the purple sphere slowly started turning blue before it started to disintegrate. Sometimes, the best solutions were the solutions that your enemy presented, in the case of Fons it was the demon’s annoying ability to change whatever energy he casted for her use.

Fons let his palms face upward as he muttered a spell. As the sphere was disintegrating, the magical energy started compressing as two small spheres in Fons’ hands. But even before the spell was done, Fons was already zooming towards the demon, the blue magic was following him, as the sphere in each of Fons’ hands was still attracting the energy.

He was glad that Alessandro showed up when he was needed. He honestly had no idea what to do if the situation was different. Well he did, but that would involve him bringing this demonic nanny down too and for a two-to-four fight, well those weren’t very good odds at all. But whatever, Alessandro was there, the mage was good, very good, and he was very close in becoming a spellweaver in Fons’ humble opinion.

With his charge and Alessandro down below, the Lares focused on the demon. This would be Marco’s and Alessandro’s fight. He had to keep her busy. He flew right up to the demon, about a foot near her face, “So you really think your charge is all that?” he stared. He immediately withdrew and flew a good number of meters away from her, can’t be too careful with her reach, but with what Valentino had said her skill was in her flexibility.

“Really now. Your charge’s spellcasting is rudimentary, at best. If you were a mage it would be blatantly obvious to you,” well that was true, aside from being biased towards Marco, the Lares did sense the magic in the boy. It was powerful yes, but the boy just had no finesse whatsoever. The boy just cast super powered spells to win the day.

“And no, I’m not distracting you. I’ve just heard a lot about you from my colleague. So I really have to ask, what is it with you and Valentino?” the Lares asked gleefully. He heard Valentino’s side of the story and it was very much ambiguous, he could’ve understood a lot more in Machiavelli’s play back in the day than in the older Lares’ stories.

Then the Lares' expression changed when she said that she was not the boy's demon.

Cazzo! (Fuck!) All this time he thought that by fighting her, he would be helping Marco by adding additional stress to the Russian's mind. But now...

It seemed that whatever he was doing, it wasn't going to help bring down the boy after all. He could see the demon's expression and swore that whatever expression she had there was that undertone of amusement, like she had just let loose a deadly secret. Well she did.

Marco needed help and he found himself plummeting towards the ground, toward Marco but suddenly, there was something in front of him.

The demon.

He cursed at himself for the situation he was in. What a reversal for roles. He managed to look at the battle below. Four against two. And what was he doing? He was battling this demon who wasn't directly related at all!

Runes lighted up in his arms. Okay, if he was going to help Marco, the first thing he needed to do was to get rid of this demon. He charged at her with his spell-enhanced self. Whatever he needed to do, he needed to do it fast. Four against two and even if Fons was now an entity, he couldn't help but pray to the gods for Marco's protection.

[Anatoly Khlystov]

Tolya’s eyes widened as all three Goetic demons were frozen in the air. That wasn’t supposed to happen; there was supposed to be some brutal carnage already ensuing. Tolya was just about to scream at the three, even threaten them with punishment if they didn’t kill Marco within the next five seconds, but before he could say anything a net of arcane energy became visible. It didn’t just appear, it had been there for quite some time now only muted and hidden with excessively powerful wards. How had somebody even had the time to set that up without Tolya noticing? His eyes followed the intricacy of the net’s spell work, but he exhausted his genius without getting closer to comprehending its structure. It was a complex thing, like lacework that went down to the molecular level in detail. Perhaps with more experience, or perhaps more time and Tolya would have been able to counter the spell, but it didn’t take long before the net changed from blue into white-hot. There was a warning sound like a high-pitched whistle before everything went white.

Tolya couldn’t help himself but close his eyes and fling an arm in front of him. The explosion also came with a gigantic concussive force, although not as large as from the detonation spell earlier. It didn’t mean that this spell was weaker; it meant that the power of the explosion was expertly contained within a more compact space. When the light faded away there was a cloud of dust and Tolya made a sweeping hand motion to clear his view. All three of his demons were down on the ground and smoking. Bifrons was face down, across his massive form there were many criss-crosses of charred flesh where the net had burned through. Shax was on his side, his heart of fire and shadow beating slowly as if trying to pump the flames back into life. Dantalion was amazingly only down on one knee, clutching the gaping rupture in his essence where his arm was supposed to be. He also had marks across his chest and shoulders but from the gaps in his long white hair that hung from his face, the rage in the demon’s eyes was obvious.

Tolya followed Dantalion’s stare and found a new arrival to the scene, another Stregoni mage. He was less powerful than Marco, but by the looks of what had just happened he had enough experience to deal with three Goetic demons. Tolya hated his lack of experience, his learning curve was extremely steep but there was still only so much a person could do in seventeen years of existence. He moved his eye back to his demons. “Get up!” he shouted, his voice broke a little bit in anger at the end. Shax fidgeted around for a moment before he got up on all fours. Bifrons also pushed himself up on his knees with a heavy groan. His voice was extremely deep, but it rang as if there were a thousand other voices that spoke with him.

“That hurt a lot.” said the hulking behemoth; it was strange though with his voice and appearance that he could sound so timid. He pulled himself back to his full height, flexing the heavily bulging muscles on his biceps.

“Yeah, let’s not do that again okay.” said Shax, he stood on his haunches and at once the fire around him reignited.

Dantalion didn’t say anything but slowly rose up to his feet, he let his hand drop to his side. Hellfire burst from his palm and snaked up his arm, across his shoulders, before forming into a new fiery appendage to replace his missing one. He examined it for a moment, testing out the articulation of the fingers and such. It obviously wouldn’t be able to hold anything without severely damaging it, but Tolya doubted that Dantalion had any other intention. All three demons seemed to be expressing their displeasure in their own way; it was obvious that this wasn’t just about following Tolya’s orders anymore. For them, things were also a lot more personal now.

The two Stregoni mages weren’t conversing, but the tell-tale sign of a wordless conversation was easily picked up by Tolya. One couldn’t spend time with mages and not learn when a telepathic conversation was going on between two people. “Dantalion –“

“Already on it.” Replied the Duke of Hell, as if he had read Tolya’s mind. In fact it was one of Dantalion’s most potent abilities. His eyes burst a vivid crimson color was he attempted to invade both of the minds of the two mages through their shared telepathic link. Dantalion’s attack wasn’t subtle at all, it was like having serrated talons rake across your mind, trying to latch on and claw everything out. But that wasn’t all that happened.

Shax bound across the field, moving as fast as a cheetah at top speed. He opened his gaping maw and fire burst from behind his throat. He had his fangs bared and his burning incisors were ready to burn and tear through the closest throat they could find. Bifrons moved less graceful, a lumbering mass of pure power that looked more than capable of breaking bones without even trying. He reached down and sunk his fingers into the soil before tearing out a huge chunk of the earth. He effortlessly hurled the gigantic clod towards Marco and Allessandro, but it barely left his fingertips before he was already ripping a new one from the ground.

One could not face against three demons and expect them to attack separately. Demons fought dirty, they had no honor code, and they preferred when things got really brutal.