Sinful Treason (Act I): Rise of the Destined Warmongers

Chapter X: Hasiran Vigor

(Narration/Dawn/Day 3)

"[I thought I made you to be more durable than this.. That's why you were battered and tortured to an inch of your life. Perhaps I did not do enough or did you fail in taking my methods to heart?!]"  Disgusted by the boy's vulnerability, Azazel slammed his face into the brimstone floor. He was then lifted again to meet his face: elongated black hair, a dark shade of bronze skin, fiery goat eyes, and a short beard. In addition, he reeked of blood and rum. "[I'm disappointed in you for your weaknesses against Beelzebub and his horde. You hate me for what I had done to you in the Bloodbath, yet you lack the proper Wrath you were supposed to wield. Wrath meant to obliterate such inferior spawn, a lord, and continue tenfold. And on top of that, you're a bloodied mess, incapable of hosting a proper fight against even an imp!! Must I wound you further to erase this failure?!]"

"[My body ..wouldn't BE this way had you not brutalized me in my youth! I was your instrument of pain in that bath, BUT FOR WHAT REASON?! YOU TOLD ME OF THESE SHEEP, BUT NEVER SAID WHY THEY MUST BE DESTROYED,]" Prīus snapped. Azazel scoffed, bringing heat to his gauntlet and burning the back of Prīus' neck as his grasp tightened, forcing a scream.

"[If my methods cannot get through to you, then perhaps reason will convert thee: a war against all angels, who assumed that their God was right and just, when Lucifer himself was made ever-so divine. He could have led us to a better life, led these pathetic humans into a better life ...now what do they do? Take advantage of the helpless, neglect their precious Creator, curse His name, worship other gods, stain the earth with their own blood just to sate their cravings and turn themselves into whores of worldly lust?! They don't understand what WE fight for! Our own righteous order, one that shall best the Lord's, and keep his sheep in line! THAT is what you were made for, Prīus! Much as I loathe you, you are an asset of our war! To fight for our cause! To destroy what you are ordered to!]"

"[..was that all it took for you to speak to me plainly?! You are in no place to dictate my destiny! I couldn't give a damn about this cause you fond over! AS LONG AS YOU DRAW BREATH, YOUR WAR MEANS NOTHING TO ME!!]"

"[...I see,]" Azazel grumbled before tossing his son to the ground. Unsheathing his own arms, he awaited his son to rise from the dirt. And arise, he did. Sprouting his wings and opening their eyes, Prīus was imbued with a furious and blinding rage, allowing his father to ward every strike and tear him further to a pulp. Effortlessly, Azazel took his wings and drew out Prīus' full physical strength, forcing it into a sick test. And still.. "[Indeed, you have not reached that level yet. Such lacking is pitiful- Nay, disgraceful. I do not give rise to weaklings like you. A child born of my blood must exceed in strength. I will offer ye a second chance. Seek the Bowels of Sin and take on their trial. Should you succeed, come to Hasira. I will find you there.]"

"[What do the Bowels have to do with anything?!]"

"[It will give you the opportunity to be somewhat on par, and mayhaps even grant you this 'justice' you crave. I will tell you now that they aren't so simple, seeing as how stagnant your prior battle was... For future engagements, know that your Anger is capable of repairing you from harsher wounds like that acid, should you shed enough blood from your foes. Consider it a gift from Narkarmos,]" the Scapegoat advised before leaving in a coat of embers. Crawling up to his feet, Prīus grabbed the living sword by its fleshy handle. By then, he told Narkarmos to heal him, and it used the blood sapped from his foes to fix his body, and reignited his strength.

"[Why couldn't you heal me prior to this,]" Prīus growled again, this time at the sword, annoyed how he didn't know this sooner. He wouldn't have suffered so greatly in the "feasting room". He wouldn't be so tired right now.. He wouldn't have needed that whore of an angel to shield him from the buzzards ..or endured great pain from that witch, Lilith..