Lord_Damocles

The Old Gods are gone. Lost and Forgotten, their honor shattered and their kingdoms broken by treachery. 

The Peace of the Myriad Heavens has been severed. And from the ashes of war and chaos, the Twin Towers of Babel have been created as a beacon of hope. 

Can Altair, a child born of the Old Gods whose name has long since been forgotten, survive, or will he be cast into the Nine Hells?

***
"So..." Arsene continued, enjoying his child's flush expression. "I've got a few things to teach you. What I'm about to give you is some peak wisdom. Think of it as my Ten Commandments: One, never trust a bitch with red hair. Trust me on this. Two, the pull-out game is not a real thing. She will get pregnant. Three—"

"F-Father…"

" —Never get yourself more than one wife. It sounds fun. It is fun. But it's truly a nightmare. You better be writing this stuff down. This is some grade-A wisdom right here. Four.

"...Please stop talking…" The Prince pleaded. 

"Shhhhh. Just let this happen. Four…Bro's before hoes isn't a thing. The hoes come first. Remember, Booty is more important than Wa— "

"STOP!!!!!"

Shadow of the Abyss

Shadowclaw began to hum, letting loose a scream that set the air aflame. From the blade's spine, webs of scarlet veins lit, stretching across the obsidian face. Each unit of mana Altair delivered returned threefold, spreading through his meridians like an endless flood across the body. Moonlight peering through murals became stained red, tarnished by a demonic rot known only to the Second Layer of Hell.

Richmond Ironblood was horrified, whether it was the aura billowing from off the Prince or the presence of the Hells around Shadowclaw. Instincts overwhelmed reason, warning of the Second Circle.

Altair glanced at his sword, sensing he had not brought out all this sword's power. 'It can do more,' he thought, containing himself with the aid of the [Soul of the Imdominable].

Festival of Chaos: Soul Kings