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Pureblood Timor

Night had fallen onto the outskirts of Roschest.

The air shimmered for a moment, and then a figure emerged.
Clad in a black robe, it had been completely blended with the dark background up until a moment ago.
It shook its head and combed the long hair that shown beneath its hood.
It was chuckling.

"Finally..."
It's face was showing a vortex of emotions.
Happiness. Sadness. Pain. Loneliness. Anger. Excitement for impending revenge.

It remembered how it had carried out its plans while avoiding the Priests.
It crossed the continent, looking for people fit for the Pure Blood.
It risked her life, recruiting people who'd accept the Fierce Blood.
They took a long time and a lot of patience.

And finally, it was time for Chaos's return.
The figure's fists under its robe were shaking.
Soon, it could reveal its identity. Soon, it could walk in the light!

"Please come, Master of Chaos."
Quickly it wiped her emotions off of its face and pulled its hood up again. There was murder in its eyes.
It disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
A bleak wind was blowing in the wasteland.

Despairing Tiamat

Dear Despair,

In his pitch-dark cocoon, he replayed in his head over and over again how his horn broke off.
His sense of defeat, humiliation, contempt, and shame fueled him
to hide his power and bide his time for the day he could finally get his revenge.

Let me lend you however much strength
Numerous pods of despair created during the Black Crusade.
His cradle consisting of the cocoons enveloped him as warmly as Chaos,
holding him, so he wouldn't forget his sense of revenge, no matter how much time passed.

I have left in me.
Finally, the day had come.
Listening to the breathy voices of his followers, he cut open his cocoon.
The familiar sight of enemies and the earth welcomed him.

"You are... I see. Mwa hah hah!"

Watching the descendants of his enemies standing in front of him,
he hefted his spear, getting ready to spread more despair.

Ruinous Berias

I felt everything around me disappear with an unpleasant light.
I didn't know it would be the last thing I'd feel for a long time.
The darkness surrounding me was so dark, even chaos couldn't penetrate it. Neither could my angry shouts.
Even my destructive dance with my sword was futile.

Here existed nothing but darkness in which time didn't seem to flow.
After a while, I couldn't even feel if my eyes were open or closed.
Finally, I started questioning my actual existence. That was when I opened my eyes as if nothing ever happened.

I exhaled the breath that I'd held for a long time as I grabbed the earth.
I felt the soil crumble through the tips of my fingers, and the sensation spread throughout my body.
My memories were fragmented. Instinctively, I searched my old memories.
What felt like an eternity now feels as if it was only a moment.

She was right. We've been waiting for so long. Is everything going as she planned?
I stretched myself and inhaled deeply.
As I moved my stiff body, the old void and yearning inside me disappeared, replaced by the sight of leafless trees bowing toward me.

Several men in black clothes approached me. They had to be her—wait, something was not right.
"Ruinous Berias, welcome back."
One of them bowed, offering me my sword with both hands.
I grabbed it at once, but I was looking for something else.

"Where's my Pureblood who should have been waiting for me?"
I saw hesitance in their eyes.

Pureblood Despero

Hot, burning pain sizzled against his skin.
They had thrown at him their so-called holy water and flames of purification a hundred times over.
His body was hanging limply, refusing to move as he wanted.
All he could do was laugh.
He took pity on these fanatics. They were obsessed with their god's false messages and happily threw their flames at anyone they saw.
You think you can despair me with your ticklish flames.
You expect me to beg you for my life.
The despair he gave me, the chaos he beholds, is deeper and thicker than anything you can imagine.

Suddenly the air in front of him shimmered, and she walked out of the warped space.
The wardens at his cell door fell like dead leaves.
Ah... finally...

The door was destroyed, and two booted feet stood in front of him.
The chain that had bound him fell to the ground with a loud clang.
He limply fell to the ground on his knee.

"It's time you show them despair again, Despero."

Ah, my Chaos—my Despair! I've been waiting for this day!
Foolish fanatics,
Now, I'll show you what true despair is.

Bloodlust Midnight's Darkness

The pulverized rock flows down from my clutched fists.
Every time I stomp my feet, the ground cracks and screams.
I have the power of destruction.

But this isn't enough.
It's no way near enough to get me what I want.
I don't care if I reach the pinnacle of my art.
Or free myself from worries and restraints and enter the path of the Sura.

I want to save humanity and guide it to the Western Paradise!
That's my only mission and reason for existence.
I'm ready for any criticism from the foolish people who can't see the forest for the trees.

When Chaos descends again, my mission will be finally completed.
I'll save humanity with my own hands.

Stretchy Darkness Jett

"Huff, huff..."
Perhaps it was an instinct in all prey.
The soldier couldn't stop looking back even though he knew he shouldn't.

The moon was nothing but a faint halo, mostly swallowed by the dark clouds.
Under its deem light, the soldier caught a glance at the gleaming white teeth of the Imposters who were hot on his heels.
He no longer heard the others who started running with him.

At the moment, he wasn't thinking about his prince's safety or even his own.
He had slowed down, enough for these Imposters to catch up with him.
Why haven't they done that already?

When he was finally near his advance party that had escaped earlier than he, he realized why.
The Imposters had stopped following him.

He forced his stiff neck to turn and look back.
There was nothing but complete darkness.
A strangely elongated shadow stood, looking down at him with contempt.

A part of it squirmed and turned into a raised fist.
As if to say goodbye, it slammed itself down onto the soldier's helm.

Venta on the Road

In the heat of the Inquisition's holy fire
his family turned into ashes and dissipated in the wind.

Having lost the meaning of his life, he left his hometown. He wandered from here to there, leaving a trail of tears behind him.
He wasn't hungry even if he didn't eat for days. He wasn't thirsty, either.
Only when his damaged feet couldn't carry him anymore, he fell. That was when the hooded figure approached him.

Hot, dark blood went down his throat.
The energy of the Fierce Blood brought back his most painful memory, incinerating his body without a trace.
He shed his damaged body and started moving in the shadows, away from everyone.

After a while, a rumor started circulating in the Cult of Darkness
about the Shadow on the Road that even swallowed sunlight and went wherever the ruthless Priests showed up to fling their flames.
His name was Venta.

Calling Jade

The outskirts of Chest Town had been left abandoned for a long time.

It was filled with darker and heavier energy than Chest Town, which looked pretty sinister itself.
The Priest Order would have been here already, if it knew one of its enemies, the Cult of Darkness, had set up a secret base
in the middle of the contaminated wasteland.

Here, Calling Jade, the Fierce Blood with a dark red hood pulled over her face, sat holding her chin, looking troubled.
The source of her trouble was the two chess units standing in front of her. Her eyes moved between them as if measuring their value.
She removed her hand from under her chin, reaching out to one of them.

"The one who'll follow the gods until the end of Hell..."

Her finger gently pushed down the black unit.
It then moved to the other unit standing next to it.
Calling Jade picked it up, mumbling.

"The one who holds the dark stigma at the end of lust..."

Suddenly, she became bombarded by the memory of humiliation in the Abandoned Haven during the Night of Revelation.
She didn't expect Him to acknowledge him.
That meant he wouldn't interfere with His plans. She didn't need to worry about him.

But she did.
Her intuition that she'd developed while devoted to Him as the celebrant of the Cult was shouting warnings at her.

"I don't trust you, Midnight's Darkness."

Click.
She placed the dark red unit upright with more force than necessary.

He moved outside their elaborate plans. He dared twist their god's messages.
She couldn't trust someone like that, but she couldn't get rid of him, either.
The god had to have embraced him for something foolish servants like her couldn't fathom.

"Midnight's Darkness, whatever you want, it's within His will."

In the end, there was nothing she needed to worry about.