God of Nothing

Aleph's exhaustion caught up with him after finishing designs for Rayse's equipment. He slept for the entire afternoon and all through the night. He would have gladly slept some more, too, if not for Brandon's incessant banging on his door.

"Master! Master! Come quick!"

He knew it wasn't the enemy, or else he would have felt the malicious mana, so he briefly considered just ignoring his shouts.

"It's time to receive our medals!"

Truthfully, he'd rather it be the enemy. He settled for pretending to be away, just staying silently in his room and hope people didn't enter. Eventually though, someone got wise to him and opened the door. 

"You're not ready!?" A high pitched voice screamed from the living room.

"...Damn." He muttered. He expected Brandon to give up, but he failed to take Lacey into account. Fearing what she might do to him, he hastily called out to her.

"I'm awake."

He got up reluctantly, eliciting a sigh from his disciple. It was so loud that he heard it one room over.

"Seriously… I expected this from Rayse, but Mister's usually more punctual. Is this just how herald slayers are these days?" She lamented from the other room.

Aleph took a look at the mirror before quickly undressing. He still wore his traveling tunic. Knowing he'd never hear the end of it, he quickly changed into the finery he found in the room's closet and exited the door. Lacey was already there, handing him a steaming mug of coffee.

"You clean up better than he does, at least." She begrudgingly said. "Any outfit I picked for Ray just looked tacky."

"Hey!" Aleph heard the man in question protesting from the hall.

"Lord bless you, child."Aleph accepted the cup, downing it with gusto. He instantly felt more alive after that. Lacey topped him off once again, looking quite presentable herself in her cleaned up war robes.

"You can drink while we walk, right? Be careful not to spill."

So the group half ran through the palace, all the way to the outer courts, where they found an enormous crowd gathered in hushed silence. An irritated looking Iona intercepted them, almost pushing them in the direction they needed to go. Aleph could hear someone speaking to the crowd somewhere up front, a steady, calm voice that kept them in check.

"–out the ages, our Mios family had been graced by the duty to serve, and serve we had. Decades upon decades, century upon century, my forefathers–"

Gunglain droned on, and Aleph actively felt the effects of the coffee he just had being sapped away. Rayse yawned from beside him, which Lacey noticed and immediately gave him a pinch to the cheek. 

The two kept on nudging and, to Aleph's eyes, flirting with each other all the way to the side of the stage, where they found the people of Kyrios looking uncomfortable in their dress robes and noblewear. Near the cloth flap that closed off this area from the stage and audience sat Vaynard, who  was impatiently tapping his foot. He noticed them coming and stood, immediately venting about what exactly 'something' was.

"Oh, finally, you've come. I almost died of boredom. Heck, I've sent some medics to go into the crowd and revive anyone that had fallen to my brother's mercurial tongue."

"...Uhhh, isn't that the wrong way of using that word?" Brandon chimed in.

"Mercurial as in mercury, Brandon. You know, liquid metal. Pretty, but poisonous beyond certain amounts." Vaynard winked, earning him some laughter from the newcomers. Up on stage, it looks like Gunglain had seen their approach, because he began winding down almost immediately.

"And now, my fellow Miosans, join me in welcoming this valiant group of men and women, who stemmed the tide of darkness that threatened to march our way. Behold! The heroes of Mios!"

"That's your cue. Go out there and look as hero-ey as possible!" Vaynard panicked, pushing Aleph through the curtain.

Aleph almost didn't hear the rest of it, because as he crossed the curtain, he was greeted with a deafening shout.

"""AHHHHHHHHH!"""

The screams of a multitude welcomed their appearance. As he walked, Aleph looked out at the crowd and estimated a couple thousand that had been packed into this space. The crowd spilled out through the gates, where he couldn't imagine how many people were as well.

The blanket of sound surrounded them up until they reached the center of the stage, where Gunglain met them and shook his hand. Aleph bowed, first to the Lord Regent, and then to the crowd. They shouted in response, even more fevered than ever.

It was then that he noticed something. Looking out into the crowd, there were far too many women and children. There are some men too, of course, but outside of soldiers, all the adults he could see were from the nobility. It was a surprising thing to only be noticing now, but he didn't know how to process it. He just stood there awhile, basking in the praises he didn't feel were deserved, until he felt something heavy on his chest.

"Stand still." Gunglain muttered from behind him. He adjusted the medal as he fastened it around his neck. "Give them a spectacle. The people of Mios have sorely lacked one these days."

He moved on after that, returning to the podium. Various attendants had given the others their medals and were now shuffling back, allowing the crowd to see them in all their glory. His disciples had wide smiles on their faces, waving and shouting at the crowd. The people responded with an even bigger cheer, showing their appreciation at this handful of people.

The Kyrios townsfolk had a different reaction to the crowd. They stood proudly, of course, and some even played to the crowd like his disciples did. But a large portion of them were meeker, more reserved. Aleph wondered if they would have preferred staying behind.

Yes, came the easy answer. Like his life on earth, they'd have much rather kept their old lives than be caught up in all this fighting. Even all the glory in the world did not make up for the fallen.

He tried to catch Gunglain's eye, maybe ask to let them leave the stage, when he found Lord Regent slack jawed, staring at something in the crowd. He followed his gaze as the sounds of cheers gave way to sounds of confusion and even outrage. Someone was trying to climb up on stage.

He was stark naked and climbed up awkwardly, like some sort of disabled person. The guards around the area refused to touch him for some reason that Aleph could not fathom.

"F-father!" He heard Gunglain gasp, and it all clicked.

Only upon a closer look did Aleph recognize the man. He was old and naked, but his body seemed sculpted for battle. He started to go to him but held back, as the telltale air of magic surrounded them all. He scanned the crowd, looking for the source, as Vaynard jumped from the curtains and onto the stage, almost bull rushing his way to his father. The crowd warped into an uneasy murmur, having heard Gunglain proclaim the man's identity caused them a certain degree of confusion.

And at the center of it all was King Mios, who was assassinated a few days ago.

__________________________________

Rayse watched as the royal siblings went to their father, wrapping their cloaks to hide his nakedness. Personally, he thought that that was the least of their worries. They fussed over their father, who seemed determined to walk to a certain spot, so determined in fact that they were completely ignored. He had an unnatural gait, like someone was pulling him along. The familiar movement created an ice cold pit inside Rayse's stomach. 

Eventually, he reached his desired spot and twisting himself around, doing so with such abruptness that he almost exposed himself once again. The supposedly dead king raised both arms, and opened his mouth.

"M-m-mY PeOpLe!!" King Mios said in halting cadence, clearly heard over the people's shock.

"T-thE LoRd of tHe A-aBySS! hE s-S-PaReS uS AlL! L-lEt uS suBm-MIT!"

The crowd was dead silent, looking on in horror, as if staring at a ghost. In a certain sense, they really were.

"...Shit." Rayse swore loudly. A few here would recognize the spell the King was under, but he was likely the only one who knew its significance.

"Master! It's the enemy!" Rayse called out. A number turned in his direction with incredulous faces, and even Lord Vaynard took his eyes off his father for a moment to give him a withering stare. Fortunately, Aleph understood.

"I sense their magic, but I cannot precisely point them out.."

Rayse strode forward, as close to the crowd as he could. He searched each face, looking for a former friend.

"It's like Deceit's magic. Shadows cling to their bodies, making them appear any way they want. They could be anyone."

Brandon and Lacey were on his side a beat later. 

"Illuminate!" Lacey shouted, and out came her miniature sun once again, showering everyone in bright light. Unfortunately, it did not have the effect they were hoping for. They could more clearly see the wisps of purple in the air now, but other than some alarmed gasps at the spell's appearance, not much had changed.

"Now what?" Lacey said, keeping her spell active.

"We're looking for a tall woman with long, black hair. Probably wearing some sort of utilitarian clothing."

"How would–" Lacey started, but shook his head. "Nevermind. How do we find her in a crowd like this?"

Rayse frantically searched each face, looking for Lost. He was all but certain it was her doing. Is she under Erebos' orders? What could something like this possibly accomplish? His mind raced in all directions, taking in the faces of those nearby. This isn't working, he thought. We need to–

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of it.

"Calm down, Rayse." Aleph had arrived.

"Regardless of who this woman is, what's important is that we locate where the magic is coming from." He gestured all around, highlighting the thick air of magic that now surrounded them. "Help me untangle this."

He was right. The smoky mana of Deceit had permeated the area. It may not be enough to fully place everyone under an illusion, but to take control of someone effectively a vegetable would offer no difficulty.

"w-wE H-HaVe gReAtLy eRrEd gOiNg a-aGaInSt t-tHe kInGdOm o-oF EtErNiTy.  w-wHiLe w-wE StRuGgLeD, t-tHe r-rEsT O-Of t-tHe w-wOrLd h-hAd c-cOmE U-UnDeR H-HiS W-WiNg." 

Under the influence of this spell, the king's ravings sounded almost like a sermon, and Rayse had to keep his mind alert to guard against the assault on his senses. He followed each strand of magical activity, hoping it brought them to whoever was behind this. It snaked through the crowd with no discernable beginning nor end, turning around on itself over and over. Even Rayse himself had to admit it: Lost had thoroughly prepared for this.

The common folk was transfixed, silently taking in what the king was saying.

"i-i fEaReD I-It t-tHe e-eNd o-oF O-OuR MiOs, B-BuT I-In h-hIs mErCy, T-ThE G-GoD O-Of t-tHe eTeRnAl n-nIgHt b-bRoUgHt u-uS O-OnE L-LaSt h-hOpE F-FoR SaLvAtIoN."

There was a scattered applause at this, and even some cheering. Rayse and his friends looked on, helpless as the common folk opened up to the idea of an alliance.

"This is pointless!" Brandon said. "Are you hearing this? Who would believe this nonsense?"

"The people are tired and want an end to the war." Lacey sighed. "They were finally hopeful to see the end because of what we accomplished, but if we no longer need to fight then…"

"They ambushed multiple villages and killed hundreds of thousands, Lacey. This smells like a trick, one I'm surprised people are eating up."

"It's the spell." Rayse muttered. "It makes the crowd pliable, more open to suggestion. Lost is probably making them see something through the smoke." 

"Lost? Who's that?" Brandon was asking, but Rayse ignored it as he stared hard at the smoke. Can he do something about it?

"h-hIs aGeNt c-cAmE T-To m-mE, jOyFuLlY BrInGiNg t-tHe e-eNd o-oF T-ThE W-WaR, nAy, A-An e-eNd t-tO A-AlL CoNfLiCtS F-FoReVeR! w-wE N-NeEd o-oNlY T-To t-tAkE T-ThEiR H-HaNd a-aNd a-aCcEpT T-ThIs g-gIfT…"

Gunglain and Vaynard had been cast to the ground at some point, unable to stop their father from his ramblings. Eroded or not, the late king had the strength to hold them both back. They watched as King Mios offered up this land to the enemy, while the people happily obliged. The cheers were less indecisive now, sounding more genuine to Rayse with every passing second.

"Master," he said, deciding to do something reckless. "We need to get rid of the fog."

"I need more time, son. The spell is too powerful."

"Let me try something." He said, stepping down from the stage and into the crowd.

Rayse held out his hand, trying to manipulate the spell like he did against Deceit. The shadows failed to respond at first, but eventually, it began to move at his touch, but, as expected, it did not end well for him.

"Ugh!" He staggered backwards, hitting his back onto the raised platform. Even just moving the spell made his insides twist. His body must have absorbed some of the mana. He shook his head and muttered to himself.

"Okay, that's not gonna work."

"Rayse." Aleph said, joining him. "Redirect the spell upwards. I will support you." He extended his hand over his disciple.

"Since you cannot circulate your mana to protect yourself, I will use mine to protect you."

Rayse nodded, taking a deep breath before trying again. He tugged at one of the innumerable strands of shadow, scattering it into the sky. He felt little resistance, which he found strange, but he was glad something was going their way for once. He scattered more and more of the spell upwards, creating a strangely divine atmosphere. It looked like a dark cloud of mana loomed over them all, kept at bay by the light of Lacey's illuminate. 

"coME, mY pEOPLE. wE Must-- AcK! WhAT aRE YOU dOIng, idIoT CHilD!"

An emerald green flash lit up from somewhere above, and suddenly, silence. Rayse took it as a hopeful sign, hastening his attempts to scatter the spell. The people were stunned, struck dumb by the ever changing sights. The shrewder ones have already started to run.

The smoke above seemed like full on thunderclouds now, billowing around itself over and over like an angry hornet's nest. Rayse would figure out how to get rid of it later, though. Now they just had to–

"Kid." A voice cut through the silence, as another stepped forward from the crowd. Brandon stepped forward to meet the newcomer, molding a blade from his own mana. Lost totally ignored him though, her cold eyes fully trained onto Rayse. He could feel his heart constricting from the pressure she emitted, and suddenly the still crowd made sense: they were rooted in fear, not awe. The pressure magnified as the Demon King spoke once again, as if her mere words plunged the kingdom to the ocean floor. 

"You should have ran."