Season 4, EP 3: Runeshire's Destiny
The ensuing ordeal stretched for nearly six days of almost endless, desperate fighting. Time lost all meaning as they battled Ramiel and his endless waves of devilish minions in this horrifying, alien landscape. Each blow they landed, each spell they cast, was a desperate prayer for return. Sam’s struggle with Crowley reached its peak, the blade almost sentient in its thirst for demonic blood, urging him on.
"Get up, boy! Get up! On your feet, boy! On the periphery, Goen was a silent, deadly force. He moved through the smoke and fire, a ghost, his keen eyes searching for the fleeting weaknesses in Ramiel's demonic armor.
"Not yet.." he whispered to himself.
"Still clinging to this pathetic realm?" Ramiel sneered, his voice a grind of stone and malice, even as he parried Crystal's glaive with a casual flick of his black blade. "Your defiance is tiresome." He gestured, and a wave of lesser devils, horned and snarling, materialized from the hellish mists, surging towards Crystal, their numbers meant to drown her defiant steel. She roared, her glaive a silver blur, carving a path through the throng, but they pressed her, relentless.
Seeing this, Thane moved like a wraith, tendrils of dark magic lashing out, seeking to bind the Prince. But Ramiel merely scoffed, a flicker of his hand turning Thane's spell into harmless smoke. "Amateur," the demon spat, before unleashing a torrent of hellfire that forced Thane to shimmer into shadow, barely evading immolation.
Crystal managed to cut a hole for Wong as she cried out, "Get him Wong!" Wong, stumbled through the chaos, a whirlwind of unpredictable motion. He lunged, aiming for a stunning strike, but Ramiel had a banishing spell prepared. "I know your tricks, monk!" the demon snarled, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement, before porting Wong into a temporary pocket dimension.
"Now!" Goen loosed an arrow, a whisper of vengeance, that found a chink in the demon's shoulder. Ramiel flinched, a low growl rumbling in his chest, his head snapping towards Goen's last position, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "You hide well, little rat, but I see you!"
The Prince of Darkness was everywhere, summoning more devils, casting destructive spells, his black blade a constant threat. He was a storm, and they were caught within it, struggling for every inch of ground, every breath.
"You can't win, mortals!" Ramiel bellowed, his voice echoing across the hellish plain, as he prepared another devastating spell, his attention momentarily drawn to the struggling Crystal. "This world is ours!"
Suddenly, the spell came to a grinding halt, canceled from existence. Ramiel's eyes twitched, Thane's shadow spell had countered his.
"Amateur." said Thane. Sam, fueled by a cold, burning fury, saw his chance. Crowley pulsed in his hand, a dark, eager whisper in his mind. Now, boy! Sam surged forward, dodging a stray hellfire blast, his eyes locked on Ramiel. He plunged Crowley deep into the demon's chest, the blade sinking with a sickening crunch. Ramiel gasped, his eyes wide with shock and rage, blood like molten iron bubbling from the wound. "This...ca..This..."
"This is for my father." Sam twisted the blade, plunged deep into Ramiel's chest.
Finally, after days of unyielding combat, the party, battered and exhausted but refusing to yield, landed a devastating, united blow against Ramiel. Wong came back from the pocket dimension to help finish the job. With a primal scream of rage and defeat, the Prince of Darkness dissipated, his form dissolving back into the infernal realms. As his dark spirit was forcefully teleported out of his temporary body and back to the Nine Hells, he roared Sam’s name, a chilling curse promising a terrifying, inevitable return. But he was thwarted nonetheless; his spell broken.
With Ramiel’s defeat, the hellish spell shattered. In a dizzying, sickening reversal, the Runeshire Manor and the abducted districts wrenched free from the Nine Hells, snapping back into their rightful place in Regalia. When the smoke finally dispersed, and the Blood Moon at last began to set, fading from the sky, a profound silence fell over the devastated city.
Then, slowly, the sounds returned: the wails of sorrow, the cries of relief, and the quiet murmur of bittersweet happiness. Many lives had been lost, entire districts lay in utter ruin, but Runeshire, as a whole, had survived its biggest ordeal, a testament to the courage of its defenders.
As the city began its arduous process of recouping, the group, utterly spent, sat outside the steps of the scarred Manor, looking down at the ravaged yet resilient city. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they found a moment of quiet rest, a pause earned after a hard-fought battle that had carved itself into the very soul of Regalia.
"Get up, boy! Get up! On your feet, boy! On the periphery, Goen was a silent, deadly force. He moved through the smoke and fire, a ghost, his keen eyes searching for the fleeting weaknesses in Ramiel's demonic armor.
"Not yet.." he whispered to himself.
"Still clinging to this pathetic realm?" Ramiel sneered, his voice a grind of stone and malice, even as he parried Crystal's glaive with a casual flick of his black blade. "Your defiance is tiresome." He gestured, and a wave of lesser devils, horned and snarling, materialized from the hellish mists, surging towards Crystal, their numbers meant to drown her defiant steel. She roared, her glaive a silver blur, carving a path through the throng, but they pressed her, relentless.
Seeing this, Thane moved like a wraith, tendrils of dark magic lashing out, seeking to bind the Prince. But Ramiel merely scoffed, a flicker of his hand turning Thane's spell into harmless smoke. "Amateur," the demon spat, before unleashing a torrent of hellfire that forced Thane to shimmer into shadow, barely evading immolation.
Crystal managed to cut a hole for Wong as she cried out, "Get him Wong!" Wong, stumbled through the chaos, a whirlwind of unpredictable motion. He lunged, aiming for a stunning strike, but Ramiel had a banishing spell prepared. "I know your tricks, monk!" the demon snarled, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement, before porting Wong into a temporary pocket dimension.
"Now!" Goen loosed an arrow, a whisper of vengeance, that found a chink in the demon's shoulder. Ramiel flinched, a low growl rumbling in his chest, his head snapping towards Goen's last position, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "You hide well, little rat, but I see you!"
The Prince of Darkness was everywhere, summoning more devils, casting destructive spells, his black blade a constant threat. He was a storm, and they were caught within it, struggling for every inch of ground, every breath.
"You can't win, mortals!" Ramiel bellowed, his voice echoing across the hellish plain, as he prepared another devastating spell, his attention momentarily drawn to the struggling Crystal. "This world is ours!"
Suddenly, the spell came to a grinding halt, canceled from existence. Ramiel's eyes twitched, Thane's shadow spell had countered his.
"Amateur." said Thane. Sam, fueled by a cold, burning fury, saw his chance. Crowley pulsed in his hand, a dark, eager whisper in his mind. Now, boy! Sam surged forward, dodging a stray hellfire blast, his eyes locked on Ramiel. He plunged Crowley deep into the demon's chest, the blade sinking with a sickening crunch. Ramiel gasped, his eyes wide with shock and rage, blood like molten iron bubbling from the wound. "This...ca..This..."
"This is for my father." Sam twisted the blade, plunged deep into Ramiel's chest.
Finally, after days of unyielding combat, the party, battered and exhausted but refusing to yield, landed a devastating, united blow against Ramiel. Wong came back from the pocket dimension to help finish the job. With a primal scream of rage and defeat, the Prince of Darkness dissipated, his form dissolving back into the infernal realms. As his dark spirit was forcefully teleported out of his temporary body and back to the Nine Hells, he roared Sam’s name, a chilling curse promising a terrifying, inevitable return. But he was thwarted nonetheless; his spell broken.
With Ramiel’s defeat, the hellish spell shattered. In a dizzying, sickening reversal, the Runeshire Manor and the abducted districts wrenched free from the Nine Hells, snapping back into their rightful place in Regalia. When the smoke finally dispersed, and the Blood Moon at last began to set, fading from the sky, a profound silence fell over the devastated city.
Then, slowly, the sounds returned: the wails of sorrow, the cries of relief, and the quiet murmur of bittersweet happiness. Many lives had been lost, entire districts lay in utter ruin, but Runeshire, as a whole, had survived its biggest ordeal, a testament to the courage of its defenders.
As the city began its arduous process of recouping, the group, utterly spent, sat outside the steps of the scarred Manor, looking down at the ravaged yet resilient city. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they found a moment of quiet rest, a pause earned after a hard-fought battle that had carved itself into the very soul of Regalia.