Achieving Heaven Through Hell Part 3: Only the Results

Chapter 27: Dream

Chapter 27: Dream

It was some hours later before the damage control teams fully got the palace back under control. The fires were doused, the holy energies dispersed, and the damage assessment was finally underway.

And so, too, was the casualty report.

"...Thousand personnel confirmed dead, three thousand missing, and over ten thousand seriously injured with more coming in."

"Very well," muttered Gallia. "Have the most recent count sent to me, I will convey the information to the Duke as soon as possible."

"Understood." The ducal guard saluted and left.

Gallia, Lieutenant Horis, and another lieutenant (she couldn't recall her name) continued down the debris strewn hall towards the Duke's chambers. This whole day had been an unqualified disaster. Not only had the palace been breached in the most brazen manner possible, but the interlopers had made off with their informants and Princess Octavia. She surmised her Duke would be secretly delighted to hear his niece was alive and well, but openly outraged that they'd been set back to square one.

Gallia was not looking forward to this debriefing.

She steeled herself as they approached the Duke's chambers. The door swung open with a groan and a surge of smoke, they were immediately assaulted by a distinct odor. Burning wires, the sour, musky odor of infuriated demons, and the thick, cloying stench of blood and effluence.

"Your Excellency?" Captain Gallia ventured. "Your Excellency, are you here?"

They entered. The room was awash with smoke that poured in from various vents, now tapering off as the various fires about the building were wrangled under control. The floor was strewn with debris and rubble and several puddles of what appeared to be tar, but Gallia knew wasn't.

"Oh, shit..." said a hoarse, horrified voice.

Gallia turned around to see Hircus standing over a massive... body . She was at his side in a flash, her eyes wide in. On the floor, crumpled and maimed, was a headless body. It was huge, massively muscular, and utterly familiar.

"Grand Duke Sallos?" Croaked the nameless lieutenant.

Captain Gallia was silent, her face expressionless save for grim, hardset scowl.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit..." Hircus whimpered. "Oh Satan... "

"Get ahold of yourself, Hircus!" The other lieutenant snarled, striking the insectoid demon across his dumbfounded face. "And do not invoke His name!"

Gallia stood staring straight ahead, her eyes wide and unseeing, hands unconsciously flexing and squeezing. The others were making noises like panicked rats, squeaking, squealing. Her own thoughts were a maelstrom, roaring and whispering, babble filtered through and her training took over.

"What do we do?!" Hircus whined, panicked. "The Duke, he's-h-he's... what do we do?!"

"Find his head, I guess?"

"Found it."

They turned around to see Gallia, who was pointing to a spot on the floor, where the Duke's head lay. Hircus groaned, his hands shooting to his mouth.

The lieutenant turned to Gallia. "Orders, Captain?"

Gallia stood statue-still, staring at the head, those formerly warm, friendly eyes, now dead and glazed. His mouth, prone to slipping into a smirk when speaking to her, now slack and ringed with blood, his proud ashen beard matted with the stuff. There was only one thing to be done. When Gallia responded, it was from somewhere beyond thought.