Tales of Astora: Legacy

Chapter 115: Ghost of the past

Chapter 115: Ghost of the past

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

".....What?" The grunting voice of a young voice echoed from the other side of the door, following by the sound of its opening. "Oh....it's you. Why are you here?" Asked the boy with tired eyes while he leaned his back on the throne as he occasionally hugged his own head. "Argg..these headaches...". Something seemed to be bothering him, physically or mentally. Whatever it was, it was causing him pain, pain he could not understand where it came from.

"I am here to report the situation of the war." The young woman in white, equipped with her odd pair of hands made out of wood, walked into the room and stopped before Alastor. "Something wrong?" Inquired the doll upon noticing the boy in pain. Yet she did not show any sign of being surprised or any concern. It was as if she knew what was causing it...or worse, she was aware of something else, something that was behind everything in the first place.

"No...nothing...Just some light headaches.." Replied the boy.

"I see...you are really strong after all." Murmured Stella silently.

"...What was that?" Questioned Alastor.

"It's nothing. About my report..." Said Stella.

"Go ahead! Are we winning?" Asked the boy.

"No, we are not. In fact, the situation looks quite bad for us. The demon lords have fallen. The enemies are much stronger than we anticipated."

"WHAT?" Shouted the last remaining demon lord, standing up suddenly. "But...Where is Asmodeus? Where is she?"

"All six have lost. Asmodeus is gone, along with the others."

As if the news brought to him were like thunders, shattering the illusion of victory he had, the boy dropped onto his throne like a man who has lost everything. How was it possible for him to lose when he controlled the most powerful weapons in history? How could this situation go unforeseen? Clenching his fist in rage, Alastor's memories of his old allies passed through his mind. Those seemingly happy memories yet somehow were distorted into visions of treachery, of pain and sadness. Why could he no longer see the faces of those people? Who were they? He recalled the image of a certain girl, a young woman. He felt like maybe she was someone important to him. And yet, he could no longer remember what she looked like. After all, her face was covered by a white light so bright it blinded him. Now, everything that was good was gone. All that was left was hate.

"They will pay for their crimes...I will make sure of that." Alastor proclaimed in anger. "It's time the final boss to come on stage." The boy stood up and moved toward the only door of the throne room.

"Wonderful!" grinned the doll as she quietly followed him.

* * *

Back at outside where a charcoaled empty field was left after the fight between the Phoenix and the seemingly heroes party, the group was now regrouping and preparing themselves for their final fight of this war. The revived demon lords have been defeated; Tartarus left immobilized. Only one last obstacle remained: the so called "Dark Lord" that everyone has been referring to as the one who caused this war in the first place.

"Disguising himself as the apparently innocent and gentle yet genius son of the late High Empress, this boy was in fact a sheep in wolf's clothing who has been manipulating everyone, including his own adopted mother who has been giving him nothing but love, all for his own ambition: the destruction of the world. At least that is how the story has spread among the common people as they put their last hope on the only individuals who could stand against the brutal assault of this tyrant....." Dragon King Celdora read while holding a parchment.