The Tale of The Fallen Primordial

Kiaren arrived at the cave just as the morning sun began to rise. His silhouette emerged from the shadows as he approached. As he reached the entrance, Noir appeared before him, as if from nowhere, a familiar grin playing on his lips. 

"So? Have you returned with good news?" Noir asked. 

"Yes, my lord," Kiaren replied. "You have been invited to meet with the Duke." 

"Well then, let's not keep him waiting," a voice echoed from above. Zuka stood atop a towering tree, barely visible among the leaves, his presence commanding and menacing. 

He descended gracefully, landing beside his brother without a word. 

Kiaren hesitated for a moment, his thoughts drifting back to his recent meeting with the Duke. The names Zuka had given him still lingered in his mind, raising suspicions, he spoke up. "My lord Zuka, may I ask... the names you instructed me to give the Duke—who are they?" 

Zuka's gaze remained forward, his tone cool as he answered. "They were Dragonoids once, rogues who delved into the criminal underworld. Five years ago, they were imprisoned in secret, their existence known only to a few. But in the circles of criminals, their legend still whispers." 

"I see," Kiaren replied. The risk he had taken now seemed more calculated and it had paid off. 

Zuka's voice broke the silence. "Light magic, teleportation." 

In an instant, Zuka, Noir, and Elyndris were teleported to the city. As soon as they arrived, an oppressive aura greeted them. The city seemed unchanged at first glance, but a heavy sense of dread hung in the air, an aura that wasn't there the last time they came. 

"Something is wrong," Zuka muttered, his eyes narrowing as they made their way toward the Duke's castle. They soon reached the gold gates, where the soldiers, having already received orders to allow the two Dragonoids through, opened them without hesitation. 

As they passed through the gates, a powerful presence overwhelmed Zuka, sending shivers down his spine, His face darkened, sensing a terrifying danger. "This power..." It was suffocating. 

Noir, however, was unfazed. In fact, his expression brightened with a twisted joy, the thrill of danger igniting his blood. 

They approached the doors of the castle. The crystal-covered entrance seemed to radiate with a familiar energy, one that stirred memories in Zuka, but he kept his composure. Noir, on the other hand, appeared even more excited, his eyes dancing at the sight of the crystals. They entered the Duke's chambers, where the Duke sat waiting for them. The tension in the air was palpable as they seated themselves across from him. 

"You carry a great spirit," the Duke said, his voice steady. "I sensed your aura the moment you arrived in the city... Dragonkin." 

"I am told that the strong recognize strength," Noir replied, his usual smirk deepening. "It is no surprise that someone of your caliber would understand the power of another." 

The Duke's gaze remained cold. "You flatter yourselves. Now, you mentioned bringing slaves, did you not? Is this the high elf?" He nodded toward Elyndris. 

Noir's voice dripped with calculation. "Yes, and we are here for a better price. I believe you understand." 

The Duke studied Elyndris, clearly impressed. "Guards, take him to the prison," he commanded. Elyndris didn't panic; he had expected this and knew Noir would return for him. 

"How many slaves did you say you have?" the Duke asked. 

"One hundred elves," Noir replied. "How does ten thousand gold sound?" 

The Duke nodded. "You have yourself a deal." 

Noir and Zuka stood, and Noir extended his hand for the Duke to shake. 

As the Duke took Noir's hand, he smiled—a smile that chilled the air. "Though, you cannot leave," he said casually. "You are not who you say you are. I know exactly who you are... and now you are trapped here." 

The room froze. The Duke's eyes glittered with malicious satisfaction. "Your disguise is far from impressive. Kogetsu, Princes of the Dragonoid Nation... Noir of the Wicked Eye, and Zuka of the Golden Horns. Perhaps you could have fooled another, but not me. And now, you cannot escape." 

"What do you mean we're trapped?" Zuka's voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed a sharp focus. 

"You cannot access your powers here," the Duke explained, still grinning. "Only those I allow can use magic in this domain. You're defenseless. Did you really think you could outmaneuver me in my own territory?" 

Zuka's thoughts flashed back to the tree he had seen upon entering. The Kageyomi Kurokiha or Morenthain, an ancient tree of immense power, bound by blood to its wielder, able to drain the abilities of anyone within its reach. And those crystal doors... Umbryss. He had seen that material before; Noir once carried a shard of it, it could make barriers even though it was a small amount but a door made out of it could definitely entrap them. 

Noir's grin never wavered. "You flatter yourself, Duke. If you know who I am, then you should know why they call me 'Noir of the Wicked Eye.'" 

His grin faded as he closed one eye, crimson light flaring from the other. "Hikari no todokanai fukami kara, watashi wa kage no kyōfu o yobiokoshimasu. Ō shin'en yo, eien ni shite hiroku, taiyō o musabori-shoku tte, yami o hōchi seyo. Wasure rareta kamigami ni yotte, sasayaka reru sakebi ni yotte, watashi wa anata o hōridashi, karera no yume o musabori kuu!" 

Eclipsing Abyss. 

A black orb of darkness materialized in Noir's hand, swallowing everything in its path. 

"I am an exception to this little trick of yours," Noir taunted. "Maybe you could trap an Ascendant or a lesser god with it, but me? Have you forgotten my power? Allow me to remind you." 

The black orb expanded, consuming everything in the room. The very structure of the castle began to collapse into the abyss, but the Duke stood firm, immovable even as the world around him crumbled. 

Noir grabbed Zuka, and in an instant, they shot into the sky. And Noir looked down, his eyes ablaze with crimson fire. 

"Would the flame of great dragons not shine brighter than that of mere humans, my dear Duke?" Noir's voice rang out in challenge. 

The Duke looked up at them, his own aura raging. His voice boomed in response. 

"Let power ignite— And see whose fire the heavens rebuke." 

The Duke lunged up at Noir with terrifying speed, his fist crashing into Noir's chest with an impact that sounded like the earth itself was breaking. Noir was hurled through the air, spinning uncontrollably before slamming into the ground. The force sent shockwaves rippling out, cracking the earth beneath him, leaving a deep crater in his wake. Dust and debris hung thick in the air as the ground trembled, but the Duke didn't wait for the dust to settle. With inhuman grace, he propelled himself toward Zuka, who was already mid-air, his eyes wide but focused. 

Zuka twisted out of the way, their bodies colliding in a brutal flurry of punches and kicks, each strike creating shockwaves that rattled the skies themselves. The two figures blurred, a vicious dance of death, but Zuka knew he couldn't last long against the Duke's relentless power. 

Below, Noir stirred. Slowly, his fingers twitched, and his body lifted from the broken ground. His form vanished in a blur, so fast it seemed as though he dissolved into the very shadows around him. He reappeared before the Duke, who was now levitating, caught mid-combat with Zuka. Noir's eyes gleamed with cold malice as his fist shot forward, smashing into the Duke's face with a bone-crunching force. The Duke was hurled toward the ground like a stone, the earth shattering beneath his impact, deep cracks spider-webbing out from where he landed. 

The Duke groaned as he struggled to rise, but Noir was already upon him, standing over him with a predatory gleam in his eyes. For a moment, they were frozen, locked in a stare that radiated pure hatred. The tension between them was suffocating, the very air buzzing with dark energy. 

Zuka, sensing the rising storm, took the moment to vanish, speeding away in search of Elyndris. He needed to leave while his brother kept the Duke occupied 

The Duke's face twisted with venomous rage as he looked up at Noir. Blood dripped from his mouth, but his defiance was unbroken. "You won't leave this city alive," he hissed, his voice sharp and jagged like broken glass. 

Noir's lips curled into a grin that held no warmth—only cruelty. His voice was low, a whisper from the abyss. "You've seen why they call me Noir of the Wicked Eye, but you're blind to the depths of my legacy. I carry many names, Duke—names whispered in the darkest voids, in places even death fears to tread. One of them, whispered by the blackest souls, is Noir, the Firstborn Child of Darkness." His eyes burned with an unnatural crimson light. "Now, let me show you why the shadows worship me." 

The Duke let out a roar of fury, his hand slicing through the air as a violent surge of wind tore toward Noir. The sheer force of it sent shockwaves through the ground, obliterating a distant mountain in a burst of debris and dust. But Noir didn't so much as flinch. His form flickered, dissolving into shadow as the attack sailed through empty air. He reappeared within a heartbeat, directly in front of the Duke, his hand wrapping around the Duke's throat like a vice. 

Noir's grip tightened, his expression unreadable, save for the dark amusement glimmering in his eyes. With a sickening crunch, he slammed the Duke into the ground, so hard the earth quaked once more, cracks splitting the ground as if the very world recoiled from Noir's power. The Duke's body struggled beneath him, but Noir's grip was unyielding, his cold gaze never wavering. 

Leaning in close, Noir's voice was barely above a whisper, but it was laced with deadly intent. "I know about the vampires lurking beneath this city, hiding in the shadows like vermin. Tell me what you know, or I'll ensure Nyros drags your soul to the deepest pits of hell, where you'll scream for eternity." 

The Duke snarled, his body surging with raw power as he forced Noir off him with a violent explosion of energy. Noir was hurled back into the air, but the Duke wasn't done. He followed up, grabbing Noir mid-air and driving him into the massive trunk of an ancient tree. The impact shattered the tree into splinters, its towering form collapsing into the darkness as the Duke stood over Noir, his eyes wild with rage. "I answer to no man!" he roared, spittle flying from his lips as his fury grew, his eyes burning with an infernal glow. 

Blood trickled down Noir's face, but there was no fear—only that same chilling smile. "You will answer to me," he whispered darkly, his voice like death's call. He drew his katana, the blade gleaming under the pale moonlight, wicked and sharp. The air around them seemed to hum with dark magic as Noir's voice rang out. "You spoke of flames rebuked by the heavens? Let's see which flames your soul can withstand." 

"Fire Magic: Crimson Coat." 

The blade of Noir's katana ignited, molten flames licking up and down its length. The air around them twisted and warped from the heat, the ground beneath Noir's feet beginning to melt. With impossible speed, Noir moved—so fast that the naked eye couldn't track his motion. By the time the Duke realized it, the katana had already slashed through him, searing through his flesh like paper. 

The Duke crumpled to the ground, his body convulsing in agony as the molten flames devoured his flesh. He gasped for breath, the heat burning his lungs as his skin blackened and cracked. For a brief, terrible moment, the battlefield was silent. The Duke lay motionless, his body twisted in pain, but something darker had begun to stir within him. 

The silence was broken by a low, guttural growl. From the Duke's body, a dark, reddish aura began to rise, coiling around him like a living thing. His flesh, charred and ruined, started to twist and stretch grotesquely, bones snapping and reforming. His body contorted in unnatural ways, bending into something inhuman, something monstrous. His skin turned a deep, blood-red hue, his once noble form warping into a grotesque mass of muscle and sinew. Sharp horns jutted out from his head, curling like twisted thorns, and massive blood-red wings unfurled behind him with a loud, leathery crack. 

The Duke was no more. In his place stood a demon—tall, towering over Noir at nearly eight feet, its eyes glowing with an ancient, malevolent light. Its voice, when it spoke, was not human. It was a chorus of voices, deep and rasping, like the cries of damned souls echoing from the depths of hell itself. 

"You can kill the human," it growled, its lips pulling back into a horrifying grin. "But me? I am beyond life and death. I am eternal. You cannot kill what was never meant to die." 

For a moment, even Noir felt the weight of the demon's power. This creature was not bound by the laws of the world he knew—it was something far older, far darker. A force of pure malevolence that defied everything Noir had encountered. But even still, his smile never faltered. 

Noir stepped forward, his katana lowering slightly, his crimson eyes burning with cold intensity. "Eternal?" he said softly, his voice dripping with malice. "I've seen gods fall, watched empires turn to dust, and stared into the void where all things end. Everything dies, demon. Even you." 

The demon's wings flared out as it lunged at Noir, its massive claws tearing through the air, aiming to rip him apart. But Noir didn't move. He stood perfectly still, his form flickering at the last moment, vanishing into the shadows as the demon's attack passed through empty air.