Even Devils Cry [ Joint Training / R ]

[Deleted]

”Hmm..” Alexander mumbled to himself, resting his cheek against the back of his hand as he gazed down, his eyes glassed over in boredom, as he turned over the next page of the rather large book sitting in front of him. He sat at a desk with at least four over, almost as equally large, books in front of him stacked up into the shape of a two by two tower. The condition of the volumes were poor, to say the least. At least one books cover seemed to even have burnt marks across its surface. Illuminated by candle light, Alexander sat quietly as he scanned through the massive tome in front of him, searching for some hidden knowledge inside it that would help him accomplish his current goal.

Reaching over with his left hand, Alex picked up another slice of the pizza he had sitting at the desk with him. Lifting a delicious, steaming, stringy cheese slice of pizza, the Quincy brought it to his mouth and took a bite of the amazing pie. “Everything” on it, and though Alexander asked for no olives, it came with olives. Chewing for a few minutes before swallowing and taking another bite, Alex had to look away from the chicken scratch scrawl across the pages that was giving him trouble. Whichever ancestor his that wrote this book deserved to be shot. Their handwriting was awful. He could hardly read it and thus needed to spread more time on each word.

Dramatically sighing, Alexander leaned backwards in his chair and let his head hang backwards. ”I should have known this wouldn’t be that simple.” he said to himself, staring up at the brick ceiling above him and sliding more pizza into his mouth. He was sitting in a room that was, honestly, rather reminiscent of a dungeon. Except it completely lacked any sort of confinement or torture equipment. The walls were lined with tables covered in various equipment. Lab equipment, though nothing terribly fancy or complicated. Books on various scientific topics, history books, geography, and even more interesting things. Honestly, it looked like Alexander was inside some sort of underground laboratory. And that wasn’t far off from the truth.

He had something like a laboratory beneath his home, though he would never actually call it that. It was his own personal space devoted to the study and examination of newly found Demonic and or Hell related Artifacts. There were two doors in this room. One was a landing that led up to a staircase that would bring you back to his home, and the other was a heavily locked door that opened up to the Sealing Room. A sealed circle, either made from blood or red paint, was drawn onto the door. That room, THAT room, was were Alexander kept everything demonic related he had collected since joining the Vandenreich. THAT room was basically full of incredibly dangerous, incredibly unstable, and NEED TO BE LOCKED AWAY things that did not EVER need to be reintroduced to the light of day.

Speaking of magic circles, Alex’s lab was also covered in the damn things. All over the floors, walls, and ceilings. Seals designed to quarantine the far-reaching effects of artifacts and to dampen their powers inside. After all, Alex was essentially sitting in a demonic hotbox right now. He needed these precautions to protect himself and perhaps the entirety of the Silbern. So what was he working on, exactly? Well, there were two other things of note in the room. The first was a coffee maker sized object sitting in the middle of the floor on the far end of the room. An object that looked like it was made from black stone and fashioned like a helix. Almost like DNA. But much too thick to be DNA. The Black Marker. The demonic object that he, alongside the incredible Amalia Vollbrecht, had collected from a doomed vessel. The same evil object that Amalia had given him orders to study, understand, and figure out how to utilize.

The Marker was surrounded in two magic circles, one built around the other one, with Ginto tubes producing ethereal blue flames from their tops placed at various points along the outer circumference of each circle. This brought us to the other thing of note in the room. A body. A corpse that was just laying in the corner. Another Vandenreich, judging by the uniform, slumped against the corner of the room near the artifact. His wrists had been slit and he had bled out. But why? Alex knew the answer of course. Slurping up some stringy cheese, Alex rested his blue eyes on the Marker. That thing was quite the bastard.

Alex had been tinkering with the Marker for at least two days straight now. The only times he hadn’t been studying it were when he needed to sleep, eat, shit, clean, or when he actually had to get the fuck out for his own safety. In those two days, Alexander had made groundbreaking discoveries. He had learned how it worked and what it’s function was. Not entirely. Some details were still missing, but Alexander was confident he knew what this thing was. And that worried him. Because the more he learned the more he realized just how dangerous this thing was. Alexander now understood why the Emperor had sent him Himself to retrieve it.

So this lead us to the body in the room. His name had been Jeremy Wades, a Vandenreich Soldat who Alexander had appropriated for a test. Well, former Soldat even before his death. Jeremy was slated for execution after he raped a few lesser Quincy women and openly denounced the Emperor. Ironically, he had actually been a Hollow convert. Maybe that was just a thing. Anyways. So Alexander had appropriated him, seeing how he was going to die anyways, and decided to use him as a test. In one part, Alexander wanted to see how someone with no mental defenses like the ones he had been trained to acquire would stand up to the Marker. The second part was Alex wanted to witness how it worked.

As much faith and love that Alexander had for His Majesty, he was reluctant to confess that what Amalia had said was accurate. The Emperor didn’t seem to actually afford any sort of mental defense against this thing. While Alex had been able to render the object safe to touch, being within its presence for too long would begin to cause it to influence the mind of those near it. Alexander recorded that Jeremy was in the presence of the Marker for three hours before he took his own life. From what Alex witnessed, the man had begun to grow increasingly paranoid, anxious, and frightful. He kept looking for voices that he seemed to be hearing and was convinced someone was behind him. Until, finally, he took his own life.

What happened next was the reason that Alexander had placed a second containment seal around the artifact. Following Jeremie's death, the Quincies blood rushed towards the object as though it were being pulled by gravity. Reaching the Marker triggered it causing Alex to panic. But nothing came about it. The artifact reacted to Jeremie's blood in a way Alex wasn’t expected. So, how exactly did it work? What Alex discovered was that this artifact, this Black Marker, was in fact a Gate Key. Just like he assumed back over the ocean. Causing people to commit suicide was part of some ritual to trigger it to activate and open a Hell Gate. What Alex learned from his studies, and reviewing and processing the visions he witnessed when arrested by the objected, was that the artifact needed living blood and fresh bodies.

After accumulating enough bodies the Marker would activate, converting the bodies into energy and tear open the fabric of reality to open a pathway to Hell. Blood was only a connection to the body. A pathway. A string. Once the gate was opened, anything could come through. What Alex thought was interesting, was that through the use of human, living, bodies the demons coming out would become physical apparitions. They would become real, and seeable, by the non-spiritually aware population of the world. No doubt because they wanted their victims to see them. What worried Alex, though, was two things.

Firstly, this Artifact was built to open a Gate to a deep level of Hell. How deep? He wasn’t sure. He was quite certain that this key opened up a Gate to Wandering. The third level of Hell. The infinite continent. Or, even worse, it could open up to Dorigaiden. If that latter were the case then Alexander worried that anything that came through such a Gate could only be stopped by the Emperor Himself. The second thing he was worried about, though, was that the artifact was inconsistent. From what Alexander studied of it, he had deduced that it would require at least a couple hundred human bodies to activate it and cause it to open a Gate. But when Jeremy killed himself as part of the ritual, the Artifact seemed like it was going to activate. It made Alexander wonder if the quality of the bodies mattered more than the quantity. Despite being originally a Hollow, Jeremy had been blessed enough to become a Quincy. One filled with the power of the Emperor. He wondered if that had anything at all to do with the false activation.

So Alexander had sealed it within a second circle. He had never had to do that before. If he were to compare this artifact to a living person...he would honestly compare its dangerousness to Amalia. Speaking of whom, he needed to go meet. He had been tasked by her to figure out how to decipher its properties. Well, he had figured out how it worked. But he was half certain that Amalia wouldn’t be satisfied just yet. He remembered the hungry look she had given it. In its current state, there was no way it was usable for whatever plan she had for it. What’s more, Alexander had his own interests in the artifact. Why did demons related to the massacre of his family, to Diablo, come to retrieve it? He doubted it was just a coincidence, or simply a trap, and that this had some connection to Diablo.

Rubbing his eyes and looking around, Alex decided he needed to go clean up. He hadn’t showered in a few hours and, honestly, he was looking forward to seeing Amalia. Her beauty, her presence, and just everything about her attracted and drew him in. She would be a very welcome sight after the two days spent in this cellar where he did nothing but look into horrifically written books and play with a demonic dildo. ”Make sure you lock up, Jeremy.” Alex teased as he got to his feet and approached the exit, smirking back at the corpse in the corner before closing and locking the door. The staircase to his cellar was hidden behind a bookcase, as cliche as it was, that swung open like a door. Pushing it back into place and making sure it was secure, Alex made off to his bathroom to clean himself up and make himself presentable to Amalia.

---

Unlike before, Alexander chose to forgo his massive travelling cloak and simply respond to his scheduled summons in his normal attire. Walking the city streets of the Silbern until entering into the grand palace, Alexander followed the halls and staircases until he finally found Amalia’s sanctum. Standing before her door he was surprised to see one of her handmaidens waiting for him. ”Greetings, Captain Alistair.” the tiny woman greeted, bowing her head to Alexander in respect. Smirking a little, Alex waved back. ”Is she expecting me?” he asked, rhetorically. ”Of course. I am here to show you to her. Please, follow me.” the maid explained, opening the doors to Amalia’s home for Alexander and showing him inside.

Leading Alexander Alistair to where her mistress was waiting, the maid stepped aside to get out of the way. Bowing her head and back pedaling away, Alexander dropped to his knee and saluted her. ”Good afternoon, my lady. You don’t know just how wonderful it is to see you again. Especially after two days of looking at nothing but dusty tomes and a brick walls.” he greeted, joking a little. Though, in truth, he really WAS happy to see her.

[✱Paiva "Amalia" Vollbrecht✱]

Amalia delicately tousled several locks of hair as she lay on a lounger in her garden. The sun gently caressed her skin with its fiery kisses as she listened carefully to Emmerick. She opened her eyes for a brief moment, taking in the bright blue glow of the sky. A gentle breeze danced over her body as it filled the trees with spirit. The leaves and flowers danced to the wind's melody before resting quietly. Several petals floated from the tree and landed on Amalia's bare stomach. She plucked them up and rubbed them between her fingers. 

"Neither myself or any of the others have located him should he be in the Silbern. I suspect he is elsewhere and has been for quite some time. Perhaps with the girl?" Amalia raised her brow before scoffing. She closed her eyes and gently sprinkled the ground with the petals that previously landed on her. "I doubt it. Whatever happened to to the scout? He was supposed to keep an extra close watch on our little songbird." Amalia blindly reached out and touched Emmerick's arm. "Please don't tell me we're blind in these matters. That would displease me, Emmerick."

The man sighed gently. "Our scout remains in place. He hasn't seen anything peculiar quite yet. I simply wonder whether he seeks out the girl." Amalia slid her fingers across his arm before slowly turned to face him. Her eyes gently opened, allowing the light to illuminate their already lustrous appearance. "Maybe, maybe not. We wouldn't be having this issue if the scouts were more effective. Be sure to remind them of how easily they could be replaced. I do want to emphasize that I want him found now!" Emmerick nodded in response to Amalia just as Alex entered.

Emmerick glanced over at Alexander, his dark features and deep green eyes burning through Amalia's guest. Amalia glanced up at Emmerick and smiled, patting him on the arm as if to reassure him of his place in her life. She acknowledged his protective nature and was thankful of his loyalty. Such loyalty was truly hard to come by. "We'll continue this later, alright?" Emmerick nodded politely as he walked past Alexander, his eyes silently condemning the man he did not fully trust to be around Amalia. 

"So, what do you have for me other than compliments? Surely you have some news on the project I instructed you to begin. You've been rather quiet while you remain holed up in that place you call a home." Amalia stretched out on the lounger, allowing the sun to hit her entire body, much of it exposed. "And before you start, I want you to know that I don't take kindly to excuses. So, I hope for your sake you've accomplished something worthwhile." Amalia smiled and peeked out of her right eye at Alexander. 

[Deleted]

Did Alexander Alistair happen to have the luck of the Irish? Did he chance upon a conversation that he might have supposed to have heard? This demon hunter had a habit of sticking his nose into places that it wasn’t supposed to belong. But he was a hunter. It was hard for this brown haired fox to ignore a scent when he picked up on one. Blue eyes flashed with playful curiosity as Alex rose to his feet following his greeting and he became aware Emmericks watchful and defensive gaze upon him. As the beauty herself dismissed her servant, the demon hunter wiggled his eyebrows and winked at Emmerick as he passed by in response to his glare. So serious. he thought to himself, smirking before returning his focus to Amalia.

"So, what do you have for me other than compliments?” She asked. Oh, Amalia. Sweet, sweet, beautiful, Amalia. Alexander had a lot to give her. Both figuratively and physically. Alexander had been preparing for this. Two days holed up in almost complete isolation. Nobody except Jeremy to talk to. Or was it Johnathan. Joseph? Alex couldn’t remember. The Particle was about to be hit by a literal verbal truck that had been laying in weight, like a trap door spider, in preparation of its prey.

Wait did she critique his home? What was wrong with his home? Sure it wasn’t as great and grand like the Captain Supervisors, and even greater still the Sternritter, received but he had a pretty nice mansion. Maybe it wasn't that big. Three bedrooms and all. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a mansion. But Alex had a nice, little, home all too himself. It also had a tricked out basement where all the fun happened. Wait, why was he so focused on this?

In response to her vague threat, Alexander let out a smirky grin before clearing his throat into his hand. ”Naturally, I wouldn’t fail you. You put your faith in me and I am not one to disappoint.” he began. ”So! Good news and bad news, my lady. I’ll start with the good news since it’s going to be the longer answer out of the two.” That wasn’t a good sign. ”I’ve successfully managed to decipher and understand how the artifact works and what exactly its purpose is. The artifact, which we’ll call the Black Marker for convenience sake, is, in fact, a Gate Key like I guessed back when we claimed it.” he was sure Amalia was going to say another biting joke in response to that, but he wasn’t going to be bothered by it.

Lifting his hand and letting it hang loosely backward, Alexander continued his report. ”The Marker does, indeed, drives its victims to suicide. The evidence of what happened to the crew of that ship and poor Jeremy is proof enough of that. How it works is that it essentially amplifies negative emotions that are responsible for the decision to take one's life. Fear, anxiety, depression, jealousy, envy, paranoia, you know...the ingredients for a misery cake. It doesn’t require physical contact, though that seems to amplify the effects tenfold, and instead can affect someone in a radius. I’m not sure what the radius is, seeing as how I’ve been keeping it and working on it in a confined, sealed off, space, but being in close proximity to the artifact causes mental degradation at a slower but steady rate.” Alex responded, thinking back to JJ’s gradual mental instability.

”So why does it do it, you might be wondering. It’s part of a ritual. Suicide is considered a sacrifice when done under the effects of the artifact, and sacrifices are a needed component for the Marker to active its true effect. Opening a Gate. Originally I thought that it required a set amount of bodies, regardless of race or spiritual might, but I’ve learned that the quality of sacrifice plays a role in the ritual.” Alex explained with a sigh, cracking his neck suddenly and apologizing, saying that his neck felt stuck before continuing with his report. Crossing his arms across his chest, ”What worries me, though, is that I’m unclear to which exact level of Hell the Gate would open too. I’m next to one hundred percent convinced it at least reaches to Wandering. Perhaps even to Dorigaiden.” Alex explained, though he knew Amalia might not understand what those names meant. If she was curious she could ask.

He snorted, chuckling a little and shaking his head. ”Honestly, my Lady, I think we might have stopped a catastrophe. This thing is...a real nasty piece of work. There’s only been a handful of objects with enough power to reach into those levels of Hell. I understand now why even His Majesty was concerned about it. Enough so to order its capture or destruction.” the tone in his voice shifted a little. His words had a familiarity and softness that you would expect when you talked to a loved one. An unconscious reaction to talking about the Emperor. A man, a God, that Alex regarded as a father figure.

Focusing back on the conversation, it was time for that part of the conversation. ”So. The bad news then.” he started to say before pausing. ”I don’t have the resources or… the… proper skills to adequately, well, isolate its specific qualities. Decipher it, yes, but I’m not currently able to simply shut off certain aspects and magnify others.” Alexander, hesitantly, explained. He knew she wasn’t going to like that. He knew he needed to explain more. ”What literature that survived the attack on my home, survived the fire, and wasn’t robbed are hardly relevant to what I’m trying to achieve.” The penis enlargement book that some sick and desperate ancestor of his wrote certainly wouldn’t help here.

”But! It is possible.” Alexander interjected, reaching beneath his collar and pulling out his Medallion, the Fragment of the Black Key, for Amalia to see. ”Our demon hunting medallions are, in fact, pieces of an original artifact. Some in my family had found a way to neutralize the effects of a demonic artifact that they did not find desirable and instead amplify the positive effects. So it’s possible. It’s been done many times. I… simply lack the means and knowledge to do so.” Alexander confessed, not enjoying this. He didn’t even want to tell Amalia that he didn’t know how to turn the Marker off. He could only contain it. The hordes of Diablo had attacked his home when he was still young. Alex’s sealing spells were elementary. Much stronger seals and other spells, and methods existed. His education wasn’t complete.

[✱Paiva "Amalia" Vollbrecht✱]

“Are you saying the artifact has an area of effect? Huh. I didn’t feel a thing. That’s disappointing.” Amalia contemplated the effects of the artifact, fantasizing about the moment when she could utilize its power for her own gains. She was far less concerned with the gates of hell and on what floor the elevator happened to open. The problem seemed simple: Keep the door closed and you needn’t worry what was on the other side. Someone as invested as Alexander likely wouldn’t see it that way.

I think we might have stopped a catastrophe. Amalia set her gaze upon Alexander, her expression humoring his sense of trepidation and panic. She stared at him with a kind of pity, though she would not verbalize this feeling. His sense of doom around demons and hell gates was cute, but unconvincing. She would aid him however she could, but her primary goal was not to combat the denizens of hell. She'd leave that task to him. This artifact was the key to accomplishing a goal she has set-out to complete long ago. 

"If this artifact is truly has awful as you say then it is even more important to isolate its properties. I don't care whether it is the artifact or something equipped with a similar power. I want its secrets revealed so we may use them. Our enemies' destruction is important, but we need to be smart and use everything we can. What better way than to have one enemy help us with another, even if they aren't initially aware of it." So. The bad news then. Amalia rolled her eyes and leaned back. "Yes, yes. Bad news."

As he spoke Amalia was overcome by the feeling of déjà vu. She turned her head slightly and peeked from beneath her eyelids, the sun heavily bathing her. "I feel as though we've been through this, Lord Alistair." She said, resuming formalities. "I told you I would provide you with whatever you needed and would accompany you to retrieve items needed for this process. The success of this project is vital, doomsday dread or not, so if we need to visit the remnants of your noble house then we will." Amalia shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked more directly at Alexander. "Specifically...what do you need and how can I help?"

She suddenly sat up and slid her legs off to the side. She leaned down and plucked a few grapes from their vines as she mulled over Alexander's words. She juggled the grapes between her fingers before delicately and sensually placing one in her mouth. She looked at Alexander and smiled as if she knew something he didn't. "Are there any living Ciphers? Or just their texts?" She tapped the edge of the lounger as she placed another grape in her mouth. "All great noble families associate with lesser houses. In many cases those lesser houses are simply distant relatives. A branch of the original family tree, as it were. They simply grew in a separate direction."

Amalia smiled coyly. "Surely certain members of the lesser houses were allowed to occupy certain roles pertaining to the main branch. I hope your family was wise enough to teach other allied families. If the demons were that monstrous of an entity it would only make sense to have many in the fold. That would mean there might still be those knowledgeable in other areas still alive today, though inactive." Amalia further wondered if there were any distant relatives still alive that knew how to manipulate these artifacts. If they were distant relatives, and therefore not possessing the Alistair name, they would have likely avoided eradication. 

[Deleted]

Of course Alexander remembered what she had said to him. She had explicitly said that any resources or assistance he needed would be provided to him, by her, should he need them. He only needed to ask. But therein lay the problem. Alexander’s pride. It prevented him from wanting to ask for help. The Quincy had eagerly accepted Amalia’s task for two, three, reasons. The first one was incredibly simple. It was because he wanted to garner her favor. For Alexander, this was an opportunity for him to gain Amalia’s attention. He had hoped to be able to accomplish this task with what skills and knowledge he currently possessed in the hopes of gaining her attention, her favor, and out of hope of earning her attraction. To impress her.

Secondly, and despite what one might believe the most important reason, was out of family pride. He, the last surviving member of the Alistair clan, had claimed an item that had been lusted over by his family for generations. He was the one who had finally clutched the artifact that had forever remained out of reach of the earlier Alistairs. Granted, someday they might have finally gotten their hands on it if any had ever decided to learn how to operate a submarine. Alex was willing to learn, but his submarine now rested with the rest of its ship at the bottom of the sea. Rest in peace, Subby.

The third reason was that Alexander wanted to learn what connection this thing had to the demon Diablo. Why did it want the artifact? What purpose did it serve for the demon that destroyed his family? Was it possible to use the artifact as a trap? To use it as a weapon against his foes? Alexander wanted to explore these avenues and learn. He felt that with the Black Marker in his hands he might just be one step closer to the demon he pursued for over a hundred years. A step forward that took a century to complete.

Those blue eyes were held back from fully examining the sheer perfection of Amalia’s body. The way her body sensually curved, the sheer amount of skin she had on display, and her angelically sculpted face were all hard for the Alistair to not focus on. He had to maintain professionalism. He had pushed the line a little last time. He would simply silently appreciate the art on display for him. He had to wonder if Amalia did it on purpose. A way to remind him to keep up the good work. To make sure to please her by giving him a little sneak peek at the assumed reward he would receive at the end of all this. He assumed she was teasing him. Baiting him.

When asked what he needed, Alexander blinked and looked away from her and off to the side. He had a grocery list of things in his head that would undoubtedly help with deciphering and isolating the properties of the Black Marker, but there was a hurdle that needed to be conquered before anything could be done. But before he could answer, Amalia said something that caught him by surprise. One that made him blink with surprise and caused his eyes to shoot back to her. Alexander looked at her, his lips held just slightly open before he raised an eyebrow coyly at her and smirked a little. ”You’re aware of the Ciphers? My, my, you know more about my family than I initially thought.” He remarked, his voice kept at a low volume, as he expressed his surprise at her reveal.

”There aren’t many who weren’t Alistair that knew of the class structure of the family. I’m shocked, honestly. I wasn’t truly aware of how close our families were. But to answer the question...no, none are alive. Only their texts remain.” Alexander answered, before resuming his silence to allow Amalia to finish speaking. Once done he crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his head to the side as if thinking over something. ”It’s possible that I may not be the last of my clan. But the possibility of it is next to none. My family, especially the heads, practiced paranoia as though it were a religion. They chose to keep the main family and lesser houses together, rather than spread apart over distances. It worked to keep us safe and hidden from the Shinigami, but it inevitably destroyed us in the end. Makes it easy to wipe out a whole family when they’re all grouped up together.” Alexander explained.

”If there are any though I don’t know. I was young, very young when Diablo’s forces attacked my home. There were still a great many things about the family that hadn’t been taught to me yet. But to go back to your question about the Ciphers, yes. Their works exist.” Alexander replied, before lowering his arms and closing his eyes. Taking a quick breath to collect himself, Alexander resumed his explanation. ”When the demons attacked that night, they didn’t realize the true worth of the Alistair Estate. They thought setting fire to and butchering every last Alistair they could find was enough. But the true worth of the estate, and most likely what the demons were also after, was what was beneath the property. The Alistair Hold.”

“Our family library and trove. The collected knowledge and material of generations of Alistair that fought the creatures of Hell. And if there are solutions to understanding and utilizing the Marker, they are in the Hold.” Alexander explained, though it was clear in his voice that he wasn’t exactly confident about what he was saying. That he was hiding something from Amalia. ”I wish to make it clear though that I am...guessing. I know for certain that the Ciphers knowledge on understanding and utilizing Artifacts are there. Generations worth of knowledge. My family stored everything they found there. I just cannot get to it.” He finally said.

”The Hold is protected by a door. A door imbued with some spell or another that makes it impervious and unopenable without the password. So I was told. But I was never taught it. But our best chances of success lie in the Hold. And you, who understands magic and abilities better than anyone in the Vandenreich, might have a better chance of opening the door than I will.”

[✱Paiva "Amalia" Vollbrecht✱]

"I know a great deal about this world and the next, Lord Alistair." Amalia responded cryptically. It seemed Alexander, like many before him, underestimated Amalia's tenacity and pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge was power among those who were centuries old. "Like I said before, our families had an established friendship. There was much we knew of the Alistairs just as they did the Vollbrechts. It is not uncommon for families that share a strong bond to trade in secrets, and your family sure did love their secrets. Your paternal grandparents especially. Many tried to snipe the contents in those melons, both from fear and curiosity."

A soft, cool laughter left Amalia's lips as she stroked her bare stomach. "I was never much interested in the demon obsessed Alistair clan, but I can't say the same for other houses. At one point you were enemy number one, and it wasn't demons who were on the other end of that battlefield." She grinned coyly before taking a small bite from a grape. She stared at the contents of the grape, musing over their shared history, much of which Alexander did not know. It was a pity he was so clueless but there were always advantages in having someone like that around. 

It’s possible that I may not be the last of my clan.

Amalia looked up from the grape, her eyes possessing a sort of incredulous quality. "You'd be surprised what survives a war ravaged battlefield." Amalia's gaze intensified, taking on a haunting quality as her voice lowered. "All manner of things emerge from the thick curtain of smoke that veils the battlefield. You never quite know who or what is returning, and what they left behind." Amalia paused as her fingers pressed into the grape, the force crushing it. "So, you see, there are things even war doesn't guarantee. Who knows who is out there waiting to be discovered."

Flicking the grape into the distance, Amalia leaned back and stared into the clear, cerulean sky. "It seems Quincy are always on the receiving end of some atrocity." She remarked bitterly, her expression displaying her disgust and anger. "Envy is an insufferable bitch, whispering in the ears of men and women to seek out what others have as if it should be their own, only to destroy it. Such was the fate of many Quincy clans and houses." Amalia sighed as she peered from her periphery at Alex's expression. 

"Your doubt is noted." She remarked, taking notice of Alexander's own incredulity. "I'm certain whatever those archives contain will be useful, if not now then someday. As Quincy we must believe that. Much of our history was lost. The pieces that managed to survive must be cherished and valued, even if they are mere fragments." Amalia lamented for a moment before her attention shifted to additional details noted by Alexander. "A magical seal? How crafty and old world of them." Amalia figured this wouldn't be easy, but a door sealed by Quincy magic was something else entirely.

"You'd think your family would have entrusted all their members with the method for unlocking this magical seal." She placed her hand over her face and shook her head. "It makes sense, I suppose. Quincy are notorious for their secrets, as I said. Historically, there was a sect of Quincy that specialized in this sort of magical locksmithing. The magical runes created by these industrious locksmiths were some of the most powerful sealing magics. They could keep practically anything out...or in for that matter. It was a coveted skill that was sought far and wide. I'd wager this seal is one of those locksmith's design, and your family simply co-opted it." Amalia sighed playfully. "I can certainly try."

[Deleted]

What Amalia had to say was interesting. It offered insight into things that Alexander had not previously considered. What she said about the possibility of other members of his family surviving was certainly he, or they, could potentially explore at some point. Alex was certain that none of his family remained. He remembered the days following the attack. Though the memories were foggy, the sort of thing that happened after a hundred years, Alexander still remembered returning to the smoldering ruins of his family home. If anyone else had survived then surely they’d have done the same, right? Or was he wrong? No, he couldn’t have been. Because if Alex had done anything else besides returning to his home he’d have never met the Emperor.

Something Amalia also said peaked his interest as well. But it was something that wasn’t relevant for now. Something they could maybe talk about later. Maybe. If he remembered. He didn’t want to get off topic right now. He had to admit, though, listening to Amalia talk about the importance of Quincy history appealed to him. She sounded genuinely interested in what she was saying. It made sense considering her family history. If they were able to reach the Alistair Hold then the entirety of the family history would be available for them to learn and utilize.

”My parents intended to teach me once I got older. But, well, things got in the way a little.” Alex answered. ”Locksmith Quincies? Interesting. Do you know if any of them survived the Shinigami? Are any in our ranks? It’s entirely possible my family procured the door to the Hold from that Clan. If need be we could get one to help, if any are left.” Alexander said, mostly to himself, as he rubbed his chins beard. That was a shot in the dark, but it was always a avenue that was worth exploring. Hearing Amalia’s announcement that she would be going with him, a smile and grin painted themselves on Alexander’s face. His features, lit up with excitement, betrayed how glad he was to hear that she would be accompanying him.

”And I didn’t even need to convince you this time. I’m growing on you.” Alex remarked, jokingly. ”If this endeavor is a success then we’ll have our hands on much more than just my families collected knowledge on demonology. Their secrets and teachings will be made available for the Vandenreich, which will no doubt please His Majesty and further strengthen His army.” Alexander declared, confidently. Though, this was only the stuff that he, himself, would allow the regular Vandenreich to have access too. There were certainly things the Alistair kept secret and kept only between themselves. Alexander had thought about what Amalia had said to him last time, that he was no longer just an Alistair, and thus was willing to share the knowledge of his family with the Vandenreich. But there was most definitely things that had to remain hidden. Forbidden, cursed, knowledge and objects that had to be safeguarded and stored away.

---

Just like before, space itself became disturbed as six points of darkness erupted from the fabric of reality itself. All arranged evenly spaced apart before suddenly enlarging to create a six point star. From that void extended what looked to be a leg, though the darkness that made the gate clung to it as though they didn’t want to let go. Making further distance from the gate, the shadows peeled away from Alexander as he emerged into the cold, night, air. The first thing he noticed was that his breath was visible. This didn’t surprise him. It was always cold here. The cold was what you should expect when you lived hidden away within the mountains.

His boots crunched against the dirt beneath his feet as he took a few steps forward, away from the Vandenreich portal, and registered what he was seeing with his eyes. Trees. Trees, everywhere. Large trees. Thick trees. Oaks, Alex realized, as he looked around him. Though they lacked their leaves, making them almost appear as skeletal hands reaching for the night sky, Alexander still recognized them. Not because he was a tree expert or anything, but because his family home had been surrounded by a oak tree forest. A forest that he and his brothers and cousins would play in when they were small children.

Alex blinked, confused, as he looked from his left and right and turned around. No doubt Amalia would have emerged by now and would probably be confused about what Alex was doing. Alexander was equally as confused, honestly. ”Uh..” he murmured to himself. Where were they, exactly? ”Hah...it’s, uh, been awhile since I’ve gone home. I must’ve gotten a few bearings wrong.” he confessed, sheepishly, with a sigh before looking down at his feet. ”Luckily, we’re on the road.” He said with a relieved smile, crouching down to touch the dirt road. Looking up and at both directions the road went he started mumbling to himself.

”-rises in the east...past the boulder...a right…” the hunter said to himself, making it obvious that he was recounting directions. ”It’s this way, Milady. We’re only a short walks distance away. Practically on the drive way.” he stated with absoluteness, confident that he had recovered from this initial mess up and beginning to lead the way. ”The home was built deep in the woods and mountain range so other nearby settlements wouldn’t stumble on us. It was also to keep us hidden from any Shinigami that might still be searching for Quincy survivors. Luckily, we never had that problem. Seems the Reapers never thought to check the British Isles. They only care about what’s over in the East it would seem.”

[✱Paiva "Amalia" Vollbrecht✱]

The silky shadows dripped off Amalia's body as she emerged from their dark embrace. Amalia's usual smug expression had faded as braced herself for the voyage. Looking around she saw nothing but nature. It was eerily quiet, a sign that the Quincy that once populated the area were all gone. Amalia couldn't escape the feeling she experience when visiting Cochem. The pain of visiting her former home was palpable, and while this was not her home she felt genuine sadness over the loss. 

Amalia wasn't always as cruel and callous as she is today. In the distant past, she was more compassionate. There always existed a headstrong quality about her, but her malicious nature was less pronounced. She traveled alongside Alex is a bit of a haze, absorbing the scenery and dealing with the emotions stirred-up by visiting his former home. She looked upon the the crumbling estate and all its decrepitude. One might never have known a noble house once occupied this dilapidated wasteland.

Amalia was reminded of her deep, incurable pain. A pain that sourced all the evil she had committed. It was a wound on her very soul, one that she desperately sought to mend but failed time and time again. No matter how many people she killed or the copious names she crossed off her list, she could never quite recover what was taken from her. Alexander's ruined estate was a stark reminder of the cost of fear. Amalia walked ahead of Alexander, her eyes trembling as she gazed in the distance. So many precious things were taken from the Quincy at the hands of Soul Reapers, and now the denizens of hell.

Amalia had known of this tragedy, but until now, had never quite equated it to her own sense of personal loss. As soon as her sadness took hold, a deep, unyielding rage rose from the darkness. This inextinguishable fire set her insides ablaze as a quiet rage tingled beneath her skin. The sensation washed over her body as she approached what used to be a long, stone series of stairs to the entrance. She reached out, her hand hovering over the stone banister. She hesitated for a brief moment before allowing the cold stone to touch her skin. 

She slid her fingers across its rough, worn surface as her eyes wandered up its neck to the dilapidated entrance. "It wasn't about whether they could find you or not." She said quietly as if her attention was divided in that moment. "If the Shinigami had wanted they would have come for you too. You hunted demons and," she paused as she touched the exterior of the entrance with her hands, "that didn't warrant immediate attention. They didn't care about that. Your family's obsession with demons aided them immeasurably in that regard." She noted bitterly.  

While facing away from Alexander, Amalia composed herself. She allowed the tears in her eyes to dry as she forcibly locked away her sorrow. She abruptly turned and glared at Alexander. "Your impatience means we have to wait in this dismal place while our guest makes his way here. Show me this family archive of yours. I want to assess it and its runes while we wait. While I can't claim to be a master of this art like our guest, I fancy myself above-average proficient. I never did quite complete my coursework." Amalia smirked as she gestured for Alexander to lead the way. 

As they proceeded to their destination, Amalia wondered how much Alexander knew of his family. Sure he was trying to keep their memory alive with demon hunting and was committed to that. But he was young when they perished, and so did he really know much of their history. Did they talk about the other noble families? "Did your parents ever speak of the other great houses?" Amalia asked rather abruptly. "Not only did I socialize with Alistairs, but our families were close. It makes me wonder how you family reacted to the demise of mine and other families at the time of the Quincy extermination by the vile Shinigami."

[Deleted]

Amalia’s reaction to seeing the ruins of the once great Alistair Manor wasn’t unique only to her. During the small walk through the forest, Amalia might have noticed that Alexander had become quiet. Not too quiet, mind you, but he wasn’t talking near as much as he usually did. What words he did speak carried a melancholy tone with them. As though he wasn’t quite there. Like he was in two places at once. Like he wasn’t really paying attention. The woman would most likely realize that the way she was feeling was being similarly felt by the man she accompanied. Perhaps he felt even worse than she did. This was, for him, a graveyard. A painful memory in the form of stone.

When they reached the ancient estate, Alexander paused in his tracks. He stared up, lips slowly parted, as he looked upon the decrepit ruins of his family home. What was once a great home that housed a noble, warrior, family was now nothing more than ruins. Cold stone that had been overtaken by nature and still bore the scars of battle. As Alexander walked the path towards his house, he turned his gaze to his right to look upon the fountain that still remained standing. Of course that stupid thing was still there. Alex remembered a scuffle he had gotten into once with his older brother Trevor. A stupid sibling squabble that resulted in the back of Alex’s head being scrapped open after being shoved into that fountain.

Turning his attention back to the entrance way to the manor, Alex remembered more memories of his youth with his family. He didn’t focus on those where he was trained to become a warrior, instead he thought back to the more intimate moments he spent with his family. Alex was one of four sons. He had two older brothers and one younger, while also having a single sister. The oldest two were twins, while he, Michael, and Sandra had been born later. Heh, Sandra. Thinking back on it, he remembered that it was her who kept the other four boys in line. She really took after Alex’s mother. A woman he’d describe as a true tiger mom. Fierce and terrifying when mad, but who held nothing but love for her boys. She was scarier than their father, or any other man in the family.

His attention was drawn to Amalia when she spoke in regards to what he had said about the Shinigami. He blinked, before lightly snorting. ”What a comforting thought. What allies they proved to be.” Alexander replied venomously. The Shinigami had done nothing to help the Alistair. Ever. Not once. Despite doing the Soul Reapers jobs for them, they never once saw to repay the debt they owed the Alistair. They just let them be destroyed. Stepping into the entrance hall of the manor, or what remained of it, Alex looked over to a still standing pillar. In the hundred or so years since the fall of the house, plants had begun to grow within the ruins. A vine had wrapped itself around the pillar and had bloomed large, purple, flowers.

How old was he when the demons came? When Diablo’s forces attacked his home. Was he thirteen? Or fourteen? Or was he twelve? He couldn’t really remember. It had been so long ago that such specifics were lost on him. His attention returned to Amalia when she criticized him for his impatience. He blinked and, almost uncharacteristically, he remained silent. He had been rather impatient, that was true. He wanted to both get here as quickly as he could but also leave as soon as he could. ”Yes ma’am.” he replied, complying with her request to show her to the entrance to the Hold.

Following the mental map in his head, Alex lead her through a few ruined rooms and halls until they stopped before a large pile of ruble. ”Here it is..” Alex remarked, standing before a bunch of piled up stones. ”Beneath here, I mean.” he correctly corrected, before stepping forward and getting to work clearing the rubble. Naturally, he had a bit of a struggle due to his lacking in physical strength. Well, until he activated Blut Arterie to give himself a little boost. When he heard her question, he paused in his digging. He had to wonder why she wanted to know such a thing. But there was a reason for it being asked. ”Honestly, I was too young to be involved in the politics between the other houses. My family wasn’t well liked by many of the other clans. Many of them thought we were black magicians, seeking to use the power of Hell to empower ourselves.” Alex answered, though it wasn’t really a answer. ”I do know, though, that when the Vollbrecht fell we grieved for their loss. Some of us even wanted to go to war with the Soul Society and avenge your clan. But calmer heads won in the end on that matter.” As he moved the rubble away, the Quincy blinked when the sight of something gold was revealed in a space between some rubble. Doubling his efforts, Alex worked hard until, finally, the oh so mysterious door was revealed.

”This...is it.” Alexander said almost breathlessly, hardly able to contain his excitement. With a brush of his hand and a flex of reiatsu, Alex pushed away all the dirt that remained atop so that both Quincy could see the Hold’s door in all its glory. Well, door. In truth, what they were looking at was a large, golden, stone lying on the floor. A stone, carved into a rectangular shape, and completely gold in color. Its surfaces were rounded, rather than tipped, and its surface was adorned in various runes and sigils that all seemed to actually be carved into the granite surface. Designed into the center of the stone was the family crest of the Alistair, while all the other runes and designs seemed to originate from the center and extend outwards.

”Hah..” Alex laughed, before chuckling lightly to himself. ”It’s still here. It’s still sealed up. Nothing has gotten inside...in all this time.” he expressed almost in disbelief, almost as though he couldn’t believe it. Sliding his hand affectionately across the surface, Alex pointlessly studied the carvings before letting his fingers rest against the symbol of his family. ”They took me down there once. My family, I mean. But the door was already open when I went down. I didn’t see how it was opened. There was some trick to it.” Alex remarked, brushing his fingers across the carving of his family crest before reaching and gripping the closest edge of the slab.

But when he tried to get a grip he surprised himself. He blinked, opening his mouth in confusion before closing it and redoubling his focus. He couldn’t get a grip. It was like whatever force he was putting into his fingers was being neutralized. ”I can’t get any purchase..” he remarked before giving up and backing away. Taking a breath and flicking his Quincy Cross free, the small metal pendant flashed with light before a bow appeared in Alex’s grip. ”Please stand back, Lady Vollbrecht. I’m expecting some fireworks.” the Quincy joked, before pulling back the reiatsu bowstring and notching an arrow. Releasing the arrow, the reiatsu projectile struck the golden door. As a result, the door lit up as it rejected and neutralized the arrow and produced a loud, screeching, sound before dying down. Blinking, Alex noted that not a single scratch had been formed.

[✱Paiva "Amalia" Vollbrecht✱]

Amalia laughed. "Black magicians. Those clans were partly right. Your family never could just leave well-enough alone. They didn't just kill demons and take their stuff, they hoarded it and dedicated entire generations to studying items and their origins. Their title was justly earned." She said as Alexander searched for the entrance to his family's vault. Alexander's enthusiasm was immediately noted, but short lived. Amalia's expression soured as Alexander struggled to gain access to his family's most prized possession. 

"We've already established the doorway is sealed off by magic, so are you at all surprised by this?" Please stand back, Lady Vollbrecht. I’m expecting some fireworks. Amalia looked at Alexander incredulously before rubbing her forehead in a moment of exhaustion. They had previously discussed the magical seals forbidding access to this vault, and here he is attempting to impress her by gaining access by force. Amalia stood to the side, her eyes switching between the door and Alexander.

Amalia's expression easily conveyed the humor of their circumstances. They were at an impasse until their guest arrived. Nothing either of them could do would force this door open, not even the mightiest arrow. Amalia covered her mouth, as if to conceal a nervous energy. She knew this was a fruitless endeavor and Alexander would not conquer this with his typical zeal. There it was. The bow and now the arrow. She watched as he let the arrow soar. And then there was silence. Amalia averted her gaze as his arrow floundered. She lightly scratched her forehead, trying her hardest to ignore this moment as if he had failed a way similar to one's wedding night.

Amalia inhaled sharply. "Well," she said while glancing briefly at Alexnader, "so much for those fireworks." She proceeded toward the door, patting him on the shoulder in an effort to console him. Amalia kneeled in front of the door, inspecting the runes carved onto its surface. "Your family went through a lot of trouble to get this type of magic. This is old magic. Really old. Like 10th century old. Some of these runes are ones I do not recognize. These are before even my time. Your family really took this demon thing seriously. If only they could have seen the real threat."

"This is quite the commission. The complex interlay is impressive." She said while brushing her fingers along the runes. "Those patterns allow for the runes to interact in a number of combinations." A gruff voice said from behind them. Amalia smiled as she rose from the ground. "Enderl." She said sweetly as she glanced back at his wrinkled, age-worn face. "I'm thankful you made it here safely."  The elderly man scoffed as he pushed through both of them. "As if I had a choice. Don't pretend like you wouldn't have done something awful if I had refused." 

Enderl

Amalia laughed jubilantly. "Even in your twilight years your wit is as sharp as ever."  The elderly man scowled and looked at Alexander. His pale blue eyes peered at Alexander. He narrowed her eyes as his gaze pierced Alexander's body. "So this is your mess I was brought to fix?" He abruptly turned and gestured for Alexander to be quiet. "Don't bother responding little boy. I don't really care." He slowly began descending toward the slab of stone, his movements as rough and slow as rusty machinery. "I can't believe you called me all the way out here to fix this saplings crap. Can't get into his own family's vault." 

Amalia smiled and shrugged in Alexander's direction as the old man continued to complain. He was still struggling to lower himself, his body brittle and worn with age. Amalia seemed to derive some amusement from the old man's behavior. She wasn't the least bit offended by his attitude. Alexander might be curious as to why Amalia was tolerating such behavior, but the truth of the matter was she knew this man quite well. In fact, this was someone who knew members of her family from before the war. He eclipsed even Amalia's wisdom, much of which she learned from him. 

As Enderl touched the ground with his knees, he continued to mutter to himself as he inspected the runes. "All this moisture and fog. Blah. This place is a rat hole. Bringing me here to do this crap. I'm retired. Breaking my back to help this dope get into his own vault." Amalia continued to look at ease as she inspected her nails nonchalantly while he berated them. Amalia reached into her pocket and pulled out a compact. She delicately applied some make-up to her nose and cheeks while addressing Ederl. 

"So, can you do it or what?" He slowly turned his head and glared at her. "Have I taught you nothing? Put away the make-up and learn something. Of course I can do it. Geesh. Listen to this girl. Talkin' to me as if I don't know what I'm doin'. As if I didn't teach her everything she knows." Amalia rolled her eyes. "You used to be faster at this." Enderl scoffed. "I used to be a lot of things, so shut your trap and let me concentrate. Talk to your boyfriend or something. He's the fool who can't get inside his own family vault."

"Yeah, yeah. They didn't teach him anything apparently. Just hurry up. The sooner you finish the sooner you can get back to your exciting life."  The runes began to glow as he lifted himself slowly, grabbing his cane and pressing it into the soil. "If your grandfather was here he'd be furious with your audacious tone." Amalia shook her head in disbelief. "He always does this. Whenever I say anything he brings up my grandfather." She said while glancing at Alexander. 

Enderl began speaking softly, but his words were indiscernible. Amalia listened closely as she backed away toward Alexander. "A forgotten language." She said abruptly with a sullen tone. "The language of our ancestors. Those who forged the very magic you see etched on that stone. He might be an old and crotchety, but he represents centuries worth of knowledge and tradition. He is shining symbol of our Quincy heritage. A master in more than just name." A near blinding light emanating from the runes, illuminating the area. The old man continued to chant as the runes magically moved around the stone tablet. These stone carving had been given life and moved like a living creature.

The light began to fade as the stone door began to slide to the side. "Alright." Enderl said before turning around and walking past Amalia and Alex. "I'm done. Have fun in your dirty cave or whatever. Did you..." Amalia looked at Enderl and nodded. "Yes, everything I promise is already there. If I find anything of value I'll bring it to you as well." He glared at Alexander before hobbling off. "You better. I don't do this crap for free, you know." Amalia looked at Alexander. "We can ask him any questions you might have later. Now might not be a good time." She said humorously. "Shall we?"

[Deleted]

In truth, it wasn’t done to impress Amalia. While Alexander would do a great many things, and go out of his way, to impress the Sternritter, this wasn’t one of them. Alexander had, genuinely, wanted to try his luck against the door. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, he now had the power to break through the door. He remembered being told multiple times that the door had been constructed to guard against all manner of onslaught in order to protect the Alistair’s secrets from the monstrosities of Hell. Yet, despite that, Alexander believed that the power that the Emperor had granted him, and the strength he now possessed all these years later, would have defeated the defenses of the door. He was wrong. His ancestors magic was much stronger than he realized. Granted he had never tested the door before. Suppose he was lucky the door didn’t counter his attempts somehow.

The reiatsu bow he held in his hand vanished as he returned his Quincy cross to its place hidden beneath his cuffs. Feeling Amalia pat him on the shoulder he turned his gaze towards her and shrugging with a smirk. ”I just wanted to see for myself if it was as strong as my parents said it was.” he explained, resting his hand on his hip as he watched the red haired beauty saunter over to the door to inspect it herself. Tilting his head to the side, Alexander watched as she studied over the runes of the door and remarked about the age of the markings. While she spoke of history, Alexander couldn’t help but notice the skin on the back of her neck. He let his eyes settle there for a minute before he blinked and looked away. ”Yes. Very old. It’s was here far longer than any of my family that was alive where alive. Fairly certain the first Alistair put it in place.” Alexander remarked, crossing his arms across his chest before becoming aware, by hearing him, that someone had joined them.

Blinking with surprise, Alexander looked at the fleshy skeleton of a human that had suddenly appeared in the ruins of his home. Well, it certainly looked human. But Alex wasn’t convinced that a goblin hadn’t come strolling out of the woods. Seems the two knew each other though, if their conversation was any indication. Alex watched, quietly for once, as Amalia and Enderl spoke to one another. When Alex was addressed though he perked up and opened his mouth to say something, only for the old crone to tell him to keep quiet. ”Well, technically it’s not my mess. Someone else decided to throw quite the bash.” Alex replied anyway.

What had Alexander surprised, though, was whatever relationship existed between these two. This old man was talking to Amalia in a way that, well, should have gotten him killed. Alex honestly expected for Amalia to nuke the old man any second now. But he was surprised to find that she seemed okay with this treatment. She essentially just brushed it off. Stroking his beard as he watched the goings on, he wondered just how this old troll was going to get into his vault. Could he open it? How exactly did these two know each other? What sort of relationship did they have?

As Endril worked and Amalia educated the Alistair, the man watched the runes on his families guardian door begin to move and shift. ”What sort of man was your grandfather?” Alexander asked, before returning his attention to the door. Sure enough, and soon enough, a light exploded out of the doorway that signaled the removal of the seal. Lowering his arm once the light died down, Alexander stared down at the darkened stairwell leading further underground. As Endril and Amalia conversed, Alexander instead stepped forward towards the darkness. ”It’s really open..” he said almost in disbelief, as a crow cawed in the distance. The first sound of life in the forest since arriving. Something Alex definitely noticed, but was nowhere near as important as the stairwell in front of them. ”I can hardly believe it..” Alexander whispered to himself before hardening his resolve and taking his first step onto the stairwell.

”Watch your head.” he advised to Amalia as he descended, breathing air that had not been tasted in over a hundred years. Stepping on stairs that had not been touched in over a hundred years. With a snap of his fingers an orb of reiatsu appeared over his shoulder, granting the two Quincy sight and casting away the darkness. What was revealed was a spiraling staircase that descended down into the earth. A tunnel dug into the depths, lined with stone, lead them down deeper. As the pair moved downwards, the wall that was constantly on their right was adorned in various paintings and tapestries, decorated in apparel unique to the Alistair.

Alexander stopped when he approached one specific portrait. ”That’s Leon Alistair.” Alexander remarked. The painting was one of a blonde haired man adorned in blue and white armor, a sword rested in his hand. ”The founder of our clan and also the first to settle here. Our clan was originally from France before we moved here.” Alexander explained quickly before moving on. There were much more important things to find. As they descended the staircase they passed more paintings. Alexander would explains that these paintings were the heads of the clan. Until, finally, they reached one that caused Alexander to stop again.

A man with an intense face. A small goatee. Brown, pushed back, hair. A white outfit that fit him tightly. ”That’s my father.” Alex said rather somberly. He had forgotten that his father's portrait was down here. ”Hmm. I’d forgotten about his little devil beard there. Man really was a demon sometimes.” Alex joked a little, before moving on again. Until, finally, they reached the bottom of the stairs. And, awaiting ahead of them, was a door. A door made from red wood and adorned with gold metal. ”This is it. It’s not magically guarded. I doubt old Endril could make it down all these stairs regardless.” Alex remarked as he hurriedly approached the doors. On either side of the ornate doorway were two, seemingly out of place, statues.

Large, headless, statues with strange holes in the centers of their chests. Amalia would recognize them. She’d know that they were golems. Automated guards powered through Ginto Tube batteries. Their power sources long since drained and died. But they could be salvaged and used again. Destroying the lock on the doorway, not possessing the key, Alexander undid the latch on the door and anxiously pushed it open. A strong breeze pushed out from the anticipated room. And then, finally, Amalia would be able to behold the Alistair Hold. The first outsider to ever see the grand archives of the Alistair family.

It was massive. Much larger than the Captain Supervisor might have thought it was. Even Alexander was blown away. He had not quite accurately remembered the sheer size of the family library. Stepping out onto the balcony, Alexander leaned against the guard railing and looked out into the Hold. The Alistair Hold was three stories. Three levels containing shelves holding an uncountable number of books and tomes. Red flags, possessing the Alistair symbol, hung from various spots of the balconies. ”It’s...all here.” Alexander whispered, noticing the torches resting on the main staircase that connected the floors. Lightning one and, using some unknown technique, caused the flame to split apart and connect to various other torches around the Hold, fully illuminating it to reveal its full glory.

Picking one of the torches up, Alexander descended down the staircase and stared, wide eyed, at everything around him. ”It’s...so hard to believe that it’s still all here. Untouched. The demons weren’t able to get in.” he expressed, stepping off the staircase and onto the second level and approached one of the shelves. Running his hand against the dust covered books, he sharply exhaled and smiled. ”All that’s left of us...of my family...the collective knowledge of generations of Alistair. It’s all here. Our entire history. Everything we learned..” He could cry. His families work was all here. It was as though he was actually surrounded by his family. As though through these books they still lived.

[✱Paiva "Amalia" Vollbrecht✱]

What sort of man was your grandfather? Amalia’s amused expression faded as she visualized her grandfather. “Strict, decisive, and wise. He and master Enderl had trained together in their youth and this developed into a lifelong friendship. They respected one another’s individual gifts. Enderl, as you already know, was masterful when it came to rune work. My grandfather excelled more in offensive arts. He pioneered many powerful abilities. He never quite understood my penchant for rebelliousness. It frustrated him that I was not more disciplined and would not abide by tradition."

Amalia sneered as her gaze searched the distance as if she were reliving memories from her youth. "Young girls were supposed to be poised, delicate creatures. They were to be instructed on the history of Quincy and all its forms and traditions. We were expected to huddle around like timid hens while the boys and men learned to perfect their bows and powers. I never responded well to being locked away with my nose buried in a book like some fragile glass ornament. He was wise, but buried knee deep in outdated traditions."

Amalia fell silent as the atmosphere gradually shifted. Amid the dust and decay was a trail of one family's memories. Their faces and possessions decorated the walls, imposing upon all who enter a sense of unforgotten history and exploration. Amalia gazed upon the portray of Leon Allistair. "One's legacy is never quite complete until they have a portrait rendered and prominently displayed." She said humorously before they continued down the stairs. "Oh, yes, Credo. The artist who rendered this should have had his hands cut off as punishment. Your father was much more handsome in person. Your mother's portrait is noticeably absent." Amalia said as she rolled her eyes.

Upon entering the vast library contained in the vault, Amalia immediately noticed its size and depth. She also noticed the many doors that would lead to an untold number of forgotten texts and relics. "This is quite expansive. Who knew your family were such terrible hoarders." Amalia said with a smile as she gently blew on a dusty book. "A book on ancient runes. How hilariously ironic and even more unhelpful at this point in time." Amalia tossed the book back on the table as she wandered around the vault. "Well, of course the demons didn't breach the vault." She said while unveiling a bookshelf by pulling back a dusty curtain.

"The vault's runes would," she paused for a moment as a cloud of dust encircled her, "would, would..." Amalia sneezed loudly before scowling bitterly at the curtain. Her soured expression and narrowed eyes persisted as she finished her thought. "...The vault's runes wouldn't have needed deactivating if they had found a way in here. These walls are protected by similar runes. You can see them etched into the pillars. It keeps people from simply using a technique to open a gateway inside this room. Crafty rune smiths." Amalia smirked as her fingers slid over the runes.

"So...where's are these texts? You should likely look for them. Perhaps there is a way of finding what area they might be in. A directory of some kind." It's all here.  Our entire history. "Yes, I imagine it is quite overwhelming." While Alexander was captivated by this discovery, Amalia inspected some of the runes. She glanced over at an overcome Alexander and with his attention elsewhere defaced some of the runes. She then rushed over Alexander and grabbed him by the shoulders. She leaned in and spoke softly into his ear. "We should find what we came here for. And then we can round up everything you want and take it with us. Build your library in the Silbern, a place even more impregnable than this vault." 

Amalia ran her hands through his hair as she walked in front of him. She turned around and cutely gestured for him to follow. "Let's go find those books we so desperately need. Perhaps we'll find some more fun things for you to examine and explore." She smiled and began to walk forward, her hands reaching out and touching the books on the shelves. There were so many possibilities in this library. She certainly wasn't going to overlook such an opportunity. There was simply too much at stake. Amalia smiled mischievously before turned around and looking at Alex innocently. "Oh, and we need to find something worth giving to Enderl. It is, after all, part of his payment. That rune book is one, but we need more."

[Deleted]

It's my first post! Please be kind ^-^

Alexander had been so focused on the opening of the Hold that, even though he noticed it, he didn’t give a second thought to the ravens caw. Ever since he and Amalia arrived they were besieged by silence. An oppressive hush that was only broken by their conversations. Not a single animal made a sound or scurried away from them. No howling wolves or cackling coyotes. No animals humping in the undergrowth. Nothing. It was as though nothing lived here. It was as though this forest was, itself, dead. That wasn’t far from the truth. Nothing lived here. Nothing wanted to live here. Everything living wanted to avoid this forest.

All animals, great and small, had an innate connection to the spiritual world. Some stronger than others, such as dogs and cats, but even the smallest and dullest creature had an instinctive link to that which was unseen. Everything that walked, flew, and crawled made a conscious effort to avoid this forest. Why? The answer was simple. Because evil had walked these woods. Though the Quincy pair could not sense it themselves, the very soil beneath their feet had become saturated with the taint that once marched through these lands. The earth, the air, the very trees themselves, had become saturated with evil. A darkness hung over this land that terrified all that could sense it. Evil was here. It had never left.

The raven that sat perched, in that tree, as a silent observer watched closely as the three Quincy worked to undo the Alistair’s sealed door. When the lock was undone and the Hold was opened in a blinding flash of light, the unnatural red eyes of that bird never left them. Until the light died out. Until it saw the Hold was opened. From its perch, hidden behind the trees, it called out and took to the air. Flying away from the Alistair manor and soaring over the silent forest, heading down the mountain and through the twists and turns that made up the secret path to the Manor. Further and further it flew until, at last, a town came into view. A small, simple, village whose name was completely irrelevant. A place that nobody might have even known existed.

The raven descended, heading towards the only structure with any lights on. The town church. Through the window the raven flew. Shattering the glass as it went and destroying its body. The glass ripped apart its flesh and feathers. The impact shattered its skull and other bones. The small, bloodied, body struck the church floor and landed atop a pile of wood. The remains of shattered pews. ”Hmmgh?” something grunted, noticing the sudden disturbance and rising from its place in the corner. A large, shirtless, obese man approached the body and bent down, grabbing at it with potato like fingers and lifting it. Staring at the ravens body for a few seconds, the vacant eyed man stared for a time before opening his mouth, extending far beyond what should have been possible, and eating it.

Chewing on and swallowing the body, the strange man blinked and turned towards the main stage of the church. All around them, though, this one holy house of God had been turned into Satan’s butthole. The piews had been destroyed. The religious imagery, destroyed. Bodies littered the church’s service hall to the point that small mounds had been made. Some of the bodies had decomposed to the point of being skeletons. Others had not reached that point yet. Some were even fresh. ”Wylde! Wylde! The bird the bird!” the strange man chanted, dancing towards where the cross of christ should have been. What looked, at first, to be rubble was, in fact, a man lounging on his side. Hard to make out for the candles providing light, the strangely shaped man opened his eyes. ”What about a bird?” he asked, as though just waking up.

”The birdie meant to watch! The birdie meant to watch! It’s finally come!” the strange fat blob chanted, dancing up and down as blood and viscus dripped down his lips. Lifting his head, the unknown man lounging began to get his feet. ”Shut the fuck up you retarded fat...wait...did you say the bird came back?” The one named Wylde asked as he moved into the candle light and out of the shadows. Despite being a man, something about him was off. His face was disjointed and irregularly shaped. His eyes were yellow and animal like. ”Uh huh! Uh huh!” the lardass chanted.

The always peeled back lips of Wydle turned upwards into a grin. ”It’s been about...what...eighty years since we got told to keep watch on that pile of rubble? Sitting around on our asses entertaining ourselves with travelers who pass too close and anyone who comes looking. I was starting to think nothing was ever gonna happen.” Wydle laughed, his thin body suddenly bulging with muscle and growing nearly three times as thick. ”Phantom! Call Rakshas and let him know the doors been opened! I’m ready to finish this and let loose for awhile.” Wylde ordered, shoving the fatter man named Phantom to the side with a powerful push.

Phantom fell to the floor, causing his entire body to quiver and shake. His skin shifted and moved as though something inside him was moving. As though his human skin was nothing more than suit. ”No need. I’m already here.” A new, but familiar, voice said from the pile of corpses. One, a completely naked and decomposing womans, corpse came crawling from the pile. Her eyes completely white and face transformed into a disfigured mess. ”The situation has...changed. Alexander Alistair is no longer working alone.” Rakshas, the same demon Amalia and Alex faced on that ship, explained.

”What?” Wylde asked. ”He’s working with another now. Another Quincy. A woman, hundreds of times more powerful than he is.” the corpse inhabiting demon explained as it reached Wydle’s bare feet. ”Another hunter?” the ape faced demon asked. ”No. A member of those fanatics. The Vandenreich. He’s made powerful allies. It explains why he is...stronger than anticipated.” Rakshas’s explained as he climbed up Wydle’s shoulder to lean on him. ”Master Diavolo also sent...this.” the demon commented before, after opening his new mouth as wide he could, reached his arm down his throat. From his body he pulled a strange, wicked, looking dagger. Upon seeing it, Wylde smirked. ”A woman, huh? I’m gonna rape her to death.”

---

”Bless you.” Alex commented after hearing Amalia sneeze. He had to confess to a truth...his family really did seem to be hoarders. He half expected to find mummified cats somewhere in here. Dragging his fingers along the spines of books as he travelled, he was completely enraptured by what was around him. Overwhelmed by being surrounded in his families legacy. So much so that he didn’t even notice what Amalia was doing. It was only when she grabbed his shoulders from behind and whispered in his ear did he pull himself back to reality.

Turning his head to face her, the man blinked before smirking. ”Yes, you’re right. It’s rather overwhelming. I know I’m repeating myself but part of me genuinely believed that this place no longer existed.” Alexander explained with a shake of his head. He had been awfully foolish. Following by the crimson haired angel, Alex continued to look back and forth at the rows of books. But, there wasn’t just books. Some of the shelves held much more than just written knowledge. Strange objects and trinkets littered some of the shelves as well. Fetishes, potion vials, and even what looked like a dinosaur skull were what were immediately noticeable. ”Oh, we’ll find the information we need. We’ll just need to, well, find it.” Alex remarked, pulling a red colored book with a gold spine from the shelf and looking at it before putting it back.

”The bottom floor. There’s an index on the lectern at the bottom. It’s a managed collection. There were...punishments...for those who put things out of place. This, in truth, is our greatest treasure. The work of generations, an archive of everything we found and learned since the days of Leon Alistair.” Alexander remarked, as he approached the floors railing and pointed down to the, even at this distance, sizable book in the dead center of the bottom floor. Looking across the Hold for a moment more, Alex grew quiet before letting out a sigh. ”It’ll take some time to move all of this to the Silbern. I’ll have to request for new property...my current estate won’t be able to hold this. It’ll need to be recreated perfectly to keep track of everything.” really, he was talking to himself more than to Amalia. Thinking out loud.

Continuing his tour with Amalia, they would pass by quite a few interesting things as they looked over the hold. A folded suit of crusaders armor, various pieces of jewelry (of which Alex made sure to warn her not to touch...for her own safety), a jar with a rather large heart in it, a golden grail, and much much more. Truly, it did seem that the Alistair were hoarders. Passing by a rather ugly doll kept in a glass case, Alexander and Amalia would see a large, ornate, glass display case. Exhaling a little, Alexander approached it. ”Ah...the trophy case.” Alex remarked, stopping in front of it and looking.

Purple cushions adorned the top of the shelves and served as comfortable bedding for what was kept inside. When Amalia approached she would see a sight that probably didn’t faze her. The case was filled with limbs. Maybe more than twenty or so. Coming in various shapes, sizes, designs and colors, no two things in the display case were the same. Aside from arms and legs, horns and tails also made up the collection. ”Nakabakki’s. It was tradition to take the original, demonic, limb of a Nakabakki at the end of a successful hunt.” Alexander explained, waving his hand a little. However, there was one particular limb he wasn’t taking his eyes off of. ”Once upon a time, a few of my ancestors got it in their heads that Nakabakki could be saved. That we could save their human souls. They would persuade the halfbreed to give up their demonic half in exchange for their lives. It worked...for a time. But then, well… that practice was put to rest.” Alex remarked, before sentimentally smirking at the limb he was looking at before turning to walk away. ”Oh, the case is magically enchanted to prevent the limbs from decaying. We didn’t want our trophies just wasting away.” Alex remarked once more.

”Well, milady, it’s definitely going to take some time to find the Cipher’s scribbles. Even with the index guiding us. There’s more than just demon related information stored here as well. Techniques and rituals lost to time, no doubt.” Alex said as he reached the staircase again and began to make his descent to the bottom floor. Running his hand across the railing as he reached the bottom floor, Alex thought back to when he was allowed in here as a child. He could still vividly recall members of his family studying or tinkering about with some artifact or another. Approaching the lectern, Alex pushed aside the memories. He needed to focus now and not take a stroll down memory lane.

The index was massive. By far the largest book in the entire hold. At least five times the size of an encyclopedia. It had been closed sometime before the attack on the house. The guide to all the knowledge around them kept shut for over a hundred years. Taking a breath, Alex reached around and grabbed hold of the edge of the front cover and turned it open. And, immediately, Alex realized just how daunting of a task this was. Whoever had been in charge of writing the index had the worst god damn handwriting Alex had ever seen! Why was it all in blasted cursive? A cold sweat formed on the back of Alex’s neck as he stared down at the scribble, trying to make out a letter or two so he could piece together what he could from the incredibly penmanship. Of course, to Alex, it was far from incredible. It was a nightmare. ”Hmm...mhmm...mhmm..” Alex murmured, pretending as if he understood what was on the page after making out one word, rubbing his hand across his chin and beard as he “read”.

[✱Paiva "Amalia" Vollbrecht✱]

Amalia looked around library, spotting various texts that seemed fitting for Enderl. A part of her was thankful he had never asked her to raid her own family's library. She wanted to keep it as intact as possible, but could see some benefit in replicating a space in the Silbern to house the collections and artifacts. That was for another time. The more she explored the more grotesque the Alistair family seemed by comparison to others. Amalia frowned at the sight of limbs delicately placed on pillows. "This are the items your family wishes to show off?" 

Amalia's tone was particularly judgmental. Even she couldn't justify keeping various severed limbs as souvenirs. "Another example of why the demon hunting Alistairs were given a second glance at most gatherings. The rumors about your family were the subject of many dinner parties. Many believed your family hunted demons in an effort to infuse their essence into your bodies in a misguided attempt at more power." Amalia laughed at the thought, but a part of her knew it was true, to some extent. 

"Separating a soul is messy work, dear Alexander. Your family certainly loved to dabble in the occult, didn't they? They could never quite leave well-enough alone. They simply had to mess around with everything, which explains their reputation and ultimate demise. Don't get me wrong. I love a little mischief, but even I wouldn't dare try and shred a soul into fragments. Even the most corrupt soul cannot be purified through being split. It only makes a bigger mess of things." She said smugly while eyeing his family's trophies.

As they made their way down to the lectern, Amalia couldn't help but make note of the items strewn along their path. A collection of items that likely possessed the same demonic energy as the artifact they retrieved before now. She wondered whether there was something his family used to ward off the effects of cursed artifacts thereby allowing any of its members to handle them without fear of harm. This wasn't something she could outright ask, or was it? Alexander was clever, but Amalia believed herself to be more so.

She could always rely on her feminine wiles to aid her in acquiring the information she desires. Amalia's predatory gaze fixated on Alexander as he sifted through the text. Despite her apparent closeness with Alexander, Amalia could never quite relinquish her proclivity for deceit and mischief. Her own goals and motives outweighed that of others. Self-preservation through power and control - those were her primary motivators. The safety that comes with control and the feeling of comfort achieved through power are unrivaled in her mind. 

And yet, she would limit her behavior in such a way that it did not directly harm Alexander and others like him. While Amalia saw friendships as capital and people as tools, even she was hesitant to burn them as she would someone who she had no affection for. Behind the wolfish grin and predatory gaze was just the slightest hesitation. After all, if she was a woman of self-preservation she would be interested in keeping people like Alexander and Priscilla close. It made sense, though it was not without its conflicts. 

Amalia coolly approached Alexander. His expression was not a hopeful one. He looked as though he was struggling. Amalia's gaze focused on the contents of the page and then again at his squinting and labored face. Amalia's jaw fell slightly as she furrowed her brow. With her mouth somewhat gaped, Amalia looked at Alexander with a worried, almost discouraged expression. Does he not know how to read? She thought. She pressed her lips together and frowned, shaking her head as if to dismiss the thought.

No, that's impossible. Of course he can read. Right? She thought with added skepticism. I've never really seen him read. He's always sort of just appeared. Oh, my...Alexander doesn't know how to read. This does explain some things. No, his Majesty would never...well, there was Alicia. No. He knows how to read. ...Right? Amalia couldn't quite convince herself of this as she watched Alexander strain to progress. She offhandedly checked on his progress. "Anything worth while?" 

She moved in closer and noticed the text was written with such care. "The scribe who rendered this had a most beautiful style of writing. His technique is flawless." Amalia began to worm her way into Alexander's efforts to read the book. Amalia's hip bumped into Alexander, pushing him to the side as she gazed down at the text. "Such elegant penmanship. So, then why are you having such trouble with it?" She said abruptly as she turned to look at Alexander. "Do you...not know how to read? I mean...it's fine if you don't, but we should likely get you a tutor. It isn't exactly something a Captain should go without."

Amalia said pityingly as she walked away from the lectern. "So, now that we know you can't read, and I know you likely had someone doing some research for you back at Silbern, maybe we could bring them here to help. I mean I can certainly do some digging too." She said with a hint of sympathy in her voice for Alexander. "I'm not sure what we're even looking for. Perhaps you could explain it and I can help. Is it a specific text listed in this book or is what we need in a scroll or an item from up above."

[Deleted]

"Do you...not know how to read?

Alexander had been focused on studying the script before him, trying to decipher what it said to the best of his ability, when Amalia asked him that question. Once the words hit his ears and his brain processed what the sounds were, Alexander had to do everything humanly possible to keep himself from panicking. He froze, slightly, for a moment as, internally, he grew incredibly hot and panicked. No. No no no no no. he mentally screamed in panic. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t let Amalia discover this! He couldn’t let her discover his illiteracy or else he risks losing her forever. What woman would want to bed a man who couldn’t read??

”My apologizes, come again?” Alex asked, turning to look over his shoulder at her. His question was asked with complete calmness, as though he were asking a completely normal question. ”Can’t read? My lady are you actually asking me if I can’t read? Haha, what a silly question. Of course I can read, I’m not a four year old.” Alex replied back in jest, despite the internal panic he was going through. Turning to look back at the index in his hands his mind worked over time to come up with an excuse, an explanation, some bullshit to feed her to get her off of his trail. ”I was just lost in the words. I was just thinking to myself that I am holding a piece of my family's legacy and got a little sentimental about it.” Yes, maybe that would work. But now for part two. ”Even so, it’ll take some time to go through all of this.” Alex explained before his words were caught in his throat. He twitched, eyes widening with shock and confusion. The air around him shifted, no doubt catching Amalia’s attention, as he pulled his hand from the book and underneath the collar of his shirt. Pulling free his medallion, the Fragment of the Black Key, both Quincies would see the piece of metal was glowing red and shaking violently. ”Here? How?” Alex asked before his head snapped upwards to the ceiling.

---

”How much longer do we need to walk?” Phantom asked as he pushed down one more of many trees that were in front of him. Of course, right after asking that question the blobulous man would spot the ruins of the Alistair Manor just ahead, prompting an excitable squeal from the man and getting him to jump up and down. ”Wyld! Wyld! It’s here it’s here!” the fat man shouted, looking back into the darkness of the forest and pointing at the ruins of the old Quincy home. Emerging from the darkness as though it clung to him, the other strangely shaped man appeared. Dangling from his neck was the half rotten female corpse whom Rakshas possessed. ”Pft. Been about...what...a hundred years since we killed everyone here and now I’m back? All because some brat managed to avoid the family get together.” Wyld complained as he exited the forest and his feet touched the cobblestone pathway leading to the manor.

”Regardless. That brat is a threat that Lord Diavolo wants disposed of. You will not fail him.” Rakshas demanded. Suddenly his face was grabbed by Wyld’s massive hand. Rakshas panicked and grunted as the sound of his skull being crushed escaped between the massive fingers. ”You don’t order me around, Rakshas. You’re the equivalent of a piece of shit on the bottom of a drug addicts foot. Piss me off and I’ll make a example of you when I get back.” Wyld warned before letting him go. ”Now quit running your damn mouth and use that thing. Call them in.” Wyld ordered before throwing Rakshas onto the ground in front of him. Hissing back at Wyld, Rakshas’s cream white eyes reflected a pure hatred back at Wyld. But he couldn’t argue with or combat this man.

Reaching into the corpse he controlled, Rakshas retrieved the same wicked dagger he revealed before. Without any hesitation, he plunged the blade into the heart of his corpse. The dagger suddenly grew red hot before sinking into the corpse. Rakshas then heaved a few times before finally releasing a figurative flood of blood out of his mouth. But that should have been impossible. There shouldn’t have been any blood left in this body. Either way, blood far past what a human could possess continued to gush from the demons mouth until it formed a perfectly circle puddle. Rakshas’s body also began to glow red before it began to break down and turn to glowing ash.

”What is going on?” Phantom asked, sucking as his finger as he stepped up to stand beside Wyld. ”A Black Nail. A miniature Key that Master Diavolo created. It’s a tool used to summon his forces into the living world. Though it’s weak so...we can’t summon too many powerful guys.” Wyld explained as the bubbles and disturbances began to appear in the blood. The surface of the pool suddenly exploded as though it were a deep lake as a arm reached for the sky. Gripping the shore, a nightmarish monster pulled itself free from the blood. One by one, more growling and roaring demons pulled themselves out of the pool of blood. ”Lower Hason? Bah.” Wyld spat, not looking to pleased with what was coming out. But he blinked when he saw the last two to emerge from the blood.

”Ah~” a female voice said as the blood sealing her lips together was free. The woman emerging from the pool was almost completely clad in a black dress, aside from her cleavage and lips. Upon her face were large butterfly wings. The second was a small child with white hair and half his face covered by a mask. Wyld blinked, before sneering a little. ”He didn’t need to send you two.” the demon commented. Wiping the blood off of herself, somehow, the womans plump lips turned into a smile as she addressed Wyld. ”Our lord wanted to ensure that we were successful. Thus he sent us and didn’t rely on you.” she commented back before noticing something.

”Scared scared scared I’m so scared I don’t want to fight scared scared scared want to go home.” the child mumbled to himself, curled up into a ball and hiding behind one of the Hason. ”Oh Kaneki. Dear, sweet, Kaneki. Stop being so scared. This will be easy. And you’ll be rewarded by the master for this as well.” the woman comforted. Wyld looked at the kid named Kaneki with a strange, almost nervous, look before turning his attention to the Alistair manor. ”Alright. We know the deal. We’re to kill the two fuckers in there and take everything in that library for the Master. Every book, every stone, every little god damn thing no matter how tiny it is. This cult family apparently had some powerful shit hidden away. Leave the woman with the hunter for me.” Wyld ordered, before swinging his arm like a general. This prompted five of the twelve lower Hason to roar and charge forward.

But before they could even reach the still standing fountain, five streaks of light emerged from the shadows the Alistair Manor and punctured each monster through the head. The three higher demons went “ooo” whereas Kaneki squeaked in fear. ”Tch. How long have you been there?” Wyld asked. The clouds in the sky departed just in time to let the moonlight shine down to reveal Alexander stepping out from behind a ruined wall of his family home. The wind pushed through his long hair as his blue eyes settled on the demons on the other end of his property. ”Long enough to know what you’re planning to do.” Alex replied, stepping over what remained of a wall to step out of the ruins.

”Y’know, I have to admit that I’m impressed. I didn’t actually think Diavolo would have stationed any of his pets here waiting for the last surviving Alistair to come and open the Hold. But, now I get to add Thief to that cowards list of bad qualities.” Alex replied, resting his hand on his waist. The woman demon smiled, resting her delicate fingers on the side of her face. ”So this is the hunter I’ve heard so much about.” Alex looked at her before looking at the kid she brought with her. ”Saika, huh? I can’t help but wonder if your boss thinks sending you two is worth the risk.” Alexander commented, earning himself some confused reactions.

”Oh, didn’t you know? Hason can leave Hell without special protection, but the trade off is it’s harder for them to escape. Saika, like you two, need those special outfits to get out and avoid being discovered by the Gates of Hell. But should those outfits be damaged...well...let’s safe that surprise for later.” Alexander explained. The demons were quiet for a moment before Wyld started laughing. Then Phantom. Then Lady Butterfly. ”Your intel is outdated, hunter.” Wyld replied, earning a confused blink from Alex. ”Yes, quite. My attire was constructed for me by Lord Diavolo. It lacks any of the faults that other Saika’s possess. I can remain free of Hell indefinitely, and some minor damage won’t affect it at all. Silly fool.” the Saika explained proudly, rubbing her hand across her bosom.

”Hmm. Quite the inventor your master is.” Alex replied, learning something new. ”Oy. Where’s the woman you brought with you?” Wyld asked, practically drooling. Alex blinked before lookin off to the side and...shrugging. ”Who knows?” he replied. ”Eh?” Wyld grunted. ”She doesn’t care for demon hunting or slaying like I do. All likelihood is she’s downstairs perusing through my family vault looking for things to keep for herself. She wouldn’t concern herself with trash like you, after all.” Alexander replied with a wave of his hand. ”Trash? Peruse? What are those?” Phantom asked Wyld, earning himself a backhanded slap.