Echoes of Blood

It was past midnight when Lyra awoke to a whisper.

"Big sister."

Velis's voice, soft and steady.

Lyra opened her eyes. The camp was still. Everyone slept, the fire now embers. Velis stood over her, silver eyes gleaming faintly in the dark.

"Come with me," Velis said. "It's time."

Lyra knew what that meant. Her heart pounded.

Still, she nodded and followed.

They passed beyond the edge of the camp and deeper into the forest. The world shifted around them. Shadows thickened. The trees bent strangely. The air lost its warmth.

Velis held her hand. "I'll take you to her. Don't let go."

Then the world bent.

Darkness swallowed them.

They arrived in the Abyss.

The throne room of the Demon Lord loomed ahead—vast, cracked stone, twisting pillars of obsidian rising toward a ceiling that disappeared into black. Torches burned with cold violet flame. Silence ruled.

At the far end sat the Demon Lord herself—serene, regal, and unreadable. Beside her stood Virion, arms folded, watching with calculating eyes.

Velis stepped forward and bowed. "My lord. I've returned."

The Demon Lord inclined her head.

"I've done as you asked," Velis said. "The Crimson Vow accepted me. The hero grows stronger. He's begun touching the deeper threads of fate. The sword responds to him."

"Good," the Demon Lord said softly.

Velis turned and beckoned. "This is Lyra. My sister."

Lyra stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on the Demon Lord. "You know who I am."

"I know many things," the Demon Lord replied. "But speak. You came for answers."

Lyra gathered her breath. "The scythe. The one with violet flame. The one Envy—Cassandra—wields. It's a hero's weapon, isn't it?"

The Demon Lord smiled faintly. "It is."

"Then how did you get it?"

"I found it," the Demon Lord said. "Long before any hero bore its name. It chose Envy when her soul matched its thirst. I merely returned it to its rightful wielder."

"And Cassandra?" Lyra pressed. "What happened to her? What did you do to her?"

Before the Demon Lord could answer—

The throne room doors boomed open.

A woman entered.

Cassandra—no, Envy—dressed in black and violet, eyes glowing like twin voids. In her hand, she held a severed head.

A demon's head. Still dripping.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, her voice cold and casual.

She tossed the head at the base of the throne.

Virion barely blinked.

The Demon Lord smiled.

Lyra starred.

Cassandra—Envy—looked at her.

And smiled.

*

*

*

Before Lyra and Velis stepped into the Abyss, the throne room had already tasted blood.

The courtyard behind the demon lord's castle echoed with the clash of steel and the crackle of magic. Virion stood tall and composed, his twin daggers humming faintly with mana as he moved in controlled arcs, guiding his student through another brutal exchange.

Across from him, Envy moved with breathtaking speed, her scythe sweeping through the air like a shadow laced with lightning. Every step she took cracked the stone beneath her, her violet glow flaring as her aura intensified.

"Again," Virion ordered, leaping back just as the blade narrowly missed him.

Envy's eyes shimmered, not with innocence, but with focus. She raised her hand, conjuring a blast of wind laced with arcane vigils and hurled it toward him. Virion dashed to the side, slicing through the spell mid-air. "You're not suppressing your aura. I can feel your bloodlust from across the courtyard."

"I don't want to suppress it," she growled. "It feels like freedom."

"And it feels like a beacon to your enemies," Virion snapped, vanishing and reappearing behind her. He grabbed her arm, twisting her momentum against her and slamming her to the ground.

She hit hard but recovered instantly, flipping to her feet and flaring her scythe with a pulse of raw violet light. But then—she hesitated.

Virion felt it.

For a moment, her aura dimmed. Completely.

He narrowed his eyes. "That… was suppression. You learned it already?"

Envy smirked. "I copied it from you."

Virion's brow twitched. "Copied?"

"When you sealed my movement earlier with your binding rune," she said. "I felt the magic structure. I learned it. My scythe helped me memorize it."

He blinked, genuinely surprised. "You copied my spellcraft."

"And more," she added. In a blink, she vanished and reappeared behind him, mimicking his earlier teleportation step. He deflected her strike with a grunt, landing on one knee.

"You can seal magic," he muttered, realizing how she'd disrupted his casting two exchanges ago. "You can copy technique. And your mana flow is… unnatural."

Her grin widened. "Is that bad?"

"It's terrifying," he replied calmly. "You shouldn't be capable of this."

And yet, he still won. In a sudden blur of motion, he disarmed her and knocked her to the ground again. She landed with a frustrated huff, lying flat as her scythe clattered nearby.

"Still not enough," she sighed. "You're impossible to beat."

"You're not supposed to beat me," Virion said. "You're supposed to learn control."

Envy sat up, dusting herself off. "Can I ask something? About Velis."

Virion paused, then gave a small nod.

"You said she was just a shadow. But she has a body now. A mind. A name. What happened?"

Virion's expression darkened. That question had lingered with him too.

"At first," he said slowly, "Velis was an echo of the Demon Lord's will. No soul. No identity. Just purpose. But then the Demon Lord started… changing. Feeling emotions. Curiosity. Playfulness. Things she never had before."

"So Velis became that too?"

"She absorbed those feelings," he said. "Took that playfulness, that curiosity, and built herself around them. Like a shadow mimicking its source."

Envy tilted her head. "She became someone... because the Demon Lord became someone."

Virion looked to the sky. "That's the simplest way I can explain it. She's not just a shadow anymore. She's her own person now."

Envy fell silent for a while, then picked up her scythe and stood. "I think I get it."

"Good," Virion replied. "Now suppress your aura again. We're not done."

 * * * * *

Envy stood before the Demon Lord, her posture proud, her scythe resting at her side like a coiled viper. Virion stood slightly behind her, ever the shadow of discipline.

She had completed her training.

Months of honing the gift that bloomed in her—the power drawn from envy, sharpened by hatred, and fuelled by purpose.

The Demon Lord sat, silent as stone, until her voice slipped across the chamber.

"Your first mission awaits."

Envy bowed her head. "I am ready."

The Demon Lord's smile was razor-thin.

"There are commanders in the Demon Lands. Pretenders. Relics. You will kill them all."

Virion's eyes narrowed. "My lord—"

"They have grown soft. Greedy. Unfit to serve in the war to come." Her voice cut through his objection like ice. "Bring me the head of their leader. The rest are disposable."

Virion stepped forward. "She is strong, yes—but she is not yet tempered. Many of them have held command for decades. They are not mere pawns."

"If she cannot kill them," the Demon Lord said, her tone flat, "then she is a pawn."

Envy said nothing.

She didn't flinch.

"I accept," she said simply. "I will kill them all."

The Demon Lord nodded once. "Virion, you will escort her. Ensure the mission begins. Do not intervene unless she fails."

A pause.

Then, softer—more amused:

"Let us see if envy truly makes a fine edge."

Virion said nothing more.

He looked at Envy one last time.

She didn't return his gaze.

She was already gone—mentally, emotionally, consumed by the thought of battle, blood, and purpose.

The throne room echoed with silence long after they departed.

But the scent of death lingered.

 * * * * *

The march to the Demon Lands was eerily quiet.

Virion walked beside Envy, his long cloak brushing the ash-strewn ground. Envy strode ahead, her violet scythe strapped across her back, each step filled with silent anticipation.

"You should be cautious," Virion said without looking at her. "They are not weak. These commanders have ruled longer than you've been alive. Even with your power—"

"I'm not afraid of them," Envy cut in. "You taught me yourself, Virion. If you doubt me now, maybe you didn't teach me well enough."

He frowned but didn't reply.

Envy glanced over her shoulder, a smug smirk playing across her lips. "Sit back and watch, teacher. Let me show you what your student can do."

When they reached the border gates of the central fortress of the Demon Lands, a crowd had already gathered.

Demons of various ranks lined the black stone courtyard—warriors, spies, beasts in humanoid shape, and above them all, the towering presence of the Demon Commanders. Six of them. Hardened by war. Drenched in legacy. Unmoved.

Virion stepped forward first, his voice echoing with authority.

"By command of the Demon Lord, all present are summoned to bear witness. The age of stagnation ends now."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Then Envy stepped forward, eyes gleaming with cold fire.

"My name is Envy," she called out, her voice sharp and slicing. "And I am here to cleanse this court of its rot."

Gasps followed. Some hissed. Others stepped back.

She raised her scythe, the violet glow humming like a war drum.

"You have grown lazy. Fat with your own pride. The Demon Lord sees no more worth in your titles. So I've come to relieve you of them."

She tilted her head mockingly.

"Any last words before I make history?"

Silence followed—then laughter.

It came from the centre of the commanders' line, from the tallest among them. A female demon clad in black and violet armour, her long horns coiled like a crown. Her voice was smooth, dripping with disdain.

"So... the Demon Lord sends a child to do what centuries of war could not?" Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me, little flame—do you think power alone makes you our better?"

Envy gave her a long look, then feigned a yawn.

"No. I think watching you all fall one by one will make that clear enough."

Another commander stepped forward, a massive brute with iron skin and tusks like daggers. "She's just a puppet. Let's cut the strings."

"Please," Envy said, laughing. "You're all so eager to die, I almost feel bad for making you wait."

The female commander's smile faded.

"I am General Maezhra. I led the charge through the Wailing Divide. I burned kingdoms to the ground when your name was still whispered in chains."

"And look where all that got you," Envy said, stepping forward. "An outdated relic. A dog left to rot while the true war brews."

Virion tensed, watching both sides closely.

The other commanders drew their weapons. The crowd began to chant, fists raised, the energy surging.

Envy raised her scythe high.

"Then come. Let's see if your old blood still burns."

And the first commander lunged.

The bloodbath had begun.