The Abysmal Army

The orb was beautiful. It was big enough to fit in the palm of your hand, with a diameter of four inches. It had the smoothness of a pearl and the endless blueness of the highest quality sapphire.

A pair of bloodshot eyes observed the orb and the intricate detail it was showing. The eyes were almond-shaped and had the vague memories of humanity in it. But forget its pastit was a monsters eye now.

The orb glowed, the images from its depth increasing in detail and sharpness. The eyes watched intently, observing and noting.

Geffen, the city of Magic, was bare and unprotected. It housed the powerful Magicians, Sages and Wizards, yes, but without the powerful influence of the Arcane Tower the city-state was an open ground for an ambush.

The bloodshot eyes blinked, and the orb altered the images it was showing. It focused onto the picture of a Wizard sitting quietly in a darkened library, surrounded by hundreds of towering bookshelves and fading stubs of candles.

He knew this Wizard. They met when they-that is, when he was still a human boy. This Wizard was a threat to his plan. This Wizard wasnt even supposed to be alive and ruling as Geffens doge. How he hated this man.

Basically they were the same. Both of them were sons of powerful warrior-nobles called Knights. But he chose the sword, and this one chose the staff. He thought it was utterly stupid for a Swordsman to change heart and become a lowly Magician. But he proved this thought wrong.

He hated everyone in the Izludian nobility, particularly the House from which this blasted Wizard came from. Every single one of them will pay at the Judgement Day, which was fast approaching.

The Wizard stopped reading and looked up, his sharp hawk-like eyes narrowing into slits. He could sense his presence. He could sense he was watching, from where the Wizard did not know.

A smile curled on his charred and darkened lips. The orb let go of the image. White mist swirled in it, and another picture in a different place materialized.

Ah, yes, his most beloved

A twenty-four-year-old Blacksmith came into view, wearing a black Boys Cap on his layered blonde hair and a pair of glasses before his deep violet eyes. He was sitting down by the Pyramids entrance in the city of Morroc, a bulging Kafra cart beside him.

The Blacksmiths cart was filled with signature Thornecraft weapons. People mobbed him from all sides, shouting their bids for those sought-after weapons. The Blacksmith looked tired and weary, but his attention was focused. He listened carefully, manipulating his abacus every now and then and arguing with the people before him. He was very different now-everywhere his body exuded the distinct aura of manhood. Gone were the traces of his teenage years.

An Assassin got his wish. The Blacksmith reached in his cart and presented a Thornecraft Infiltrator Katar to the joyous Assassin. The Assassin was squeaking like a little boy as the Blacksmith manipulated his abacus for the last time. The final price of the Infiltrator Katar was 80.5 million zeny. The Assassin didnt so much look at his money bag as he thrust it into the Blacksmiths arms. He walked away leaping, shouting for everyone to hear that he finally managed to buy a genuine Thornecraft katar.

The people got excited, and the shouting of bids started all over again. The last thing he saw was the Blacksmith standing up before the orb drowned the image.

A female spear Knight came up next. He didnt know why, but his eyes watered at the sight of her. She was still regal as ever, filled with strength and courage. She remained in Firnheild for a year only, before she chose to break away. She revived the Red Roses and ruled as Guildmistress in her own right. It turned out that many survived the fortresss destruction. They all rejoined her to reform the guild, but their powerful array of Thornecraft weapons were gone. Only she and three other guildsmen hold such weapons now.

A new emotion surged through him-anger, hate and dislike for everyone else who caused his ruin, even her, his sister. They were all going to die in the day of reckoning. And all of them will die a painful death; he was going to make sure of that.

He blinked slowly and the light of the orb died down. He stood up, his black plated armor rising with him and his blood red velvet cape billowing behind. He walked toward the balcony with steps that created small holes on the ground.

The deadened and evil remnant of what was majestic Heavens Blade was in his hands. It did not have the beautiful transparent blade wrought with love and passion. It was a gruesome thing now; decayed and possessed with Evil Powers from Hell.

The Dark Lord stepped out into the balcony of the dead St. Abbeys Bell Tower. He was greeted with tumultuous applause from his soldiers-his army.

One million Abysmal Knights, Skeleton Archers, Skel Prisoners, Ghouls, Raydrics, Bloody Knights and Zombie Prisoners stood beneath the shadow of the church, cheering madly for their leader. Abysmal Knights clanged their shields with their lances, Ghouls were howling hideously and Zombie Prisoners made noise with their chains.

From this dark crowd stepped up four great monsters; Baphomet with his legendary crescent scythe, Stormy Knight with his rampaging temper, Dark Priest, with his robes of eternal black and Vampyre with her unquenchable thirst for living blood.

Dark Priest held up his hand and bellowed, "SILENCE!"

The noise quickly died away, giving way to the howling of the cold and hostile winds.

"The time has come!" the Dark Lord declared, lifting Heavens Blade to the air. "For the War to begin! Destroy everything in your path! Leave none alive! Desecrate! Pillage! Kill! DESTROY! DESTROY EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN YOUR WAY!"

The Abysmal Army roared and shouted in answer.

"ON TO GEFFEN, THE CITY OF MAGIC!" Dark Lord shouted. "ON TO GEFFEN AND DESTROY MIDGARDS HOPE! WITHOUT THE ARCANE TOWER TO KEEP UNDEAD, DEMI-HUMANS AND DEMONS BACK, MIDGARD HAS NO HOPE! ON TO GEFFEN, AND KILL ALL OF HER MAGICAL PEOPLE!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Blood! I want to suck them all dry!" Vampyre shrieked, baring her fangs.

"Cut off their heads!" Stormy Knight yelled, brandishing his lance. "And tear their bodies apart!"

All around Glast Heim, the army started to chant.

"KILL! DESTROY! KILL! DESTROY! KILL! DESTROY!"

The Dark Lord jumped from the balcony and landed on the dead street, his cape billowing behind him like souls.

"ON TO GEFFEN! AND DESTROY THE CITY OF MAGIC!!!"

Like a giant mass of black, the invincible Abysmal Army started to wake and march toward Geffen, city of Light and Magic, with her unwary citizens.