The War of All Wars Read online

  Thousands of citizens rode on his, her, or its own magic carpet up or down the streets, all around the height between five to eight feet—the rest that did not fly walked, flew, or just stood in place. As for their attire, versatile as their numbers—only a few wore similar white and gold robes to the former owner of the magic carpet that Baltor and Nemis rode on now.

  Perhaps thirty seconds after he had stopped the carpet, he backed it up until they were no longer in view of the city. It was then that he said aloud, “Nemis, I bet we can get through this city easily enough, and that the pyramid is the Arch’s palace…but I’m going to need that cloak again, so I can disguise myself.”

  “Okay,” she replied, just before she began to take it off and hand it over. She put on her own hood.

  As soon as he had donned the cloak and hood, he added, “Now, we need to figure our game plan out for what we’re going to do once we arrive at that pyramid, so that the same thing doesn’t happen to us here, as it did at Bastion.”

  Raising both of her eyebrows, she asked, “So what do you propose?”

  “Well,” Baltor said while rubbing his goatee, “I think that shortly before we near that little pyramid, we fly our way up to the top to that upper entrance, find the throne room as quickly as possible, and kill the ruler just as quickly…sneaking around doesn’t seem to do that much good, as we’ve already learned. Right?”

  “You’re right about that,” she replied.

  “You got all your spells handy?”

  “Yes sir!”

  “Hey—do you have the power to cast your invisibility spell?”

  Nemis nodded her head.

  “Good…save it. If we should happen to run into any problems with the denizens while traveling through the city, cast your spell right then and there and make us invisible. But if we have no problems by the time we arrive at the pyramid, I will give you the thumbs-up and that is when you need to start casting.”

  “Okay, sounds like a perfect plan to me.”

  “All right,” he said, just before he willed the carpet to go forward, around the corner, and into the heart of the city.

  Surprising enough, no one paid the slightest amount of attention to either of them. It took a little less than a half an hour at riding at full speed, before they began to near the pyramid that was as wide as it was tall, which had two entrances—one near the top and one at the bottom.

  Once they had neared the pyramid, perhaps a thousand feet away, Baltor stopped the carpet and threw the “thumbs up”—Nemis began to cast, and ten seconds later, they turned invisible.

  Baltor willed the carpet to fly up toward the upper entrance, and sure enough, it began to elevate right up. It was at this point that he allowed himself to crack a little smile, because he had not known whether these carpets had elevation control or not—sure enough, they did.

  Nearly twenty seconds later, they entered the upper entrance—inside they observed that this massive room had about one hundred people who surrounded a five-hundred-foot tall statue that stood in the middle of them all. This statue had a gold humanoid creature with the body of a man, but the head of a jackal.

  In front of the statue, there stood a small pool of water, only ten feet by ten feet. Large incense burners burned at each of the statue’s corners, as well as all the corners of the room.

  As for the people of all ages and races, they all wore white and gold robes, and similar-colored make-up on their faces—continuously they hummed, chanted, and prayed while facing the statue that hadn’t yet moved, yet could very well be Arch-Devil Set. Neither Baltor nor Nemis had to guess that these people were this devil’s priests and priestesses.

  In particular, one female stood on the far side of the statue—although she wore the headgear of a jackal, her face was visible, human, and beautiful. As she had her hands extended high above her in a prayer type of fashion, it seemed obvious that she must be the high priestess.

  The only other thing that drew Baltor and Nemis’ attention existed on the far side of the room. A fifty-foot tall exit angled downward for about two hundred feet, before it angled sharply to the left. Strangely, not a single person seemed to have a clue that Baltor and Nemis were there, or maybe, they just did not care!

  However, neither person was sure of what to do next, nor could they communicate to each other, even using telepathy, without risk of being discovered—whether to try and attack this statue, which could be Set or just a statue, or whether to explore out the rest of this pyramid within a pyramid.

  Perhaps ten seconds later, Baltor made the choice and entered the passage on the far side of the room. After, of course, flying high over the heads of a dozen priests making their way up this passage in single file, he saw that the passage veered left and took it.

  About five hundred feet away, it opened up into a room that was about a mile long and a mile wide.

  At the far end of the room stood a gigantic throne made entirely out of gold and jewels, which throne could fit a man or woman about thirty feet tall and five feet wide, and was unoccupied right now. Other than the throne, there were no other pieces of furniture, nor ornaments of any type anywhere—there was a set of closed double-doors in this room to the right. Polishing the throne itself with a rag was a priest, of who was all by himself.

  Baltor flew the carpet behind the throne and landed it—though she was confused as to why he had just landed the carpet, she felt his hand gently pat her shoulder twice, which meant to her that everything was okay, and that she should stay put. She did.

  As for Baltor, he invisibly crept his way behind the priest, unsheathed both swords, and pinched them up against at the priest’s neck—that priest froze.

  Whispering, he said, “Shh… Now listen up. You’re either going to follow me behind the throne, or die…what’s your choice?”

  The priest answered, “I—I cannot see you but I will obey your orders, so, so please, be careful!”

  With Baltor’s swords still pinching the priest’s throat, he led him behind the throne. Once there, he asked, “Where is your ruler?”

  “My high priestess?”

  “No,” he answered. “You know exactly whom I’m talking about.”

  “The Arch-Devil Se—” the priest was about to answer, but he became interrupted as he felt that the sword slightly cut his throat, which drew a bit of blood.

  “Yes…him,” Baltor replied.

  “You can go ahead and kill me if you wish,” the priest answered, “but I’m not telling you anything anymore. In fact, I’d be happy to die a martyr, especially in hell! Maybe I’ll even get promoted?”

  Both Baltor and the priest heard Nemis softly chanting a spell—though neither of the men knew what kind, Baltor trusted her and allowed her to finish.

  Upon completion, only three seconds later, a glazed-look crossed the priest’s eyes, and he said, “Your wish is my command.”

  Baltor realized that Nemis must have hypnotized the priest, so he relaxed the sword from his throat, but not too much.

  Nemis commanded, “Where is your Arch-Devil, of whom you shall not say his name?”

  “He is at the Council of Nine’s annual meeting and won’t be back until the meeting is over.”

  “How long will that be?”

  “I don’t know. It varies every year—sometimes hours, sometimes days, weeks, or months. Nobody knows.”

  “Great,” Baltor said aloud to Nemis, “now what?”

  Nemis asked, “Do you have your own room around here?”

  “No, I share it with my brethren and sisters.”

  She asked, “Does this throne tilt back and reveal the River Styx?”

  The priest answered, “I don’t know…I’m only an acolyte who started a few years ago, so I don’t know much of anything.”

  With a slight snarl on his face, Baltor said to Nemis, “This guy is proving to be worthless.”

  Just then, the invisibility spell dissipated.

  “Great!” Baltor whispered under his
breath agitation, upon seeing both he and Nemis reappearing in the snap of a finger.

  “So tell me acolyte,” Nemis asked, “are there any good hiding places around here?”

  “No, there are not,” he answered, while only now starting to eyeball her suspiciously.

  “Any other questions you can think of, Nemis?” Baltor asked, still sounding upset.

  Shaking her head, she answered, “no.”

  With that, Baltor used the hilt of one of his swords to bash it into the top of the priest’s skull in order to knock the man out, but instead of just knocking him out, the hilt smashed through the skull, blood and brains splattered out, and the priest died.

  “That wasn’t good,” Nemis said with shock and horror. “Now look…his blood’s beginning to spread all across the floor, and the priests are going to know something’s wrong soon enough.”

  “I only intended to knock him out…not kill him. I swear to God!”

  Just then, a strange humming sound began to emerge from somewhere on the other side of the throne, which interrupted her from saying what she was about to say, which was to never use that word in hell—neither person could identify the type of sound, other than that it was very low, deep, and bass-y.

  Baltor poked his head around the throne, noting that there was a twenty-eight-foot tall being materializing in the middle of the room, yet most fortunately, facing the other direction.

  From that second’s glance, he could see that this being had a human body, wore a headdress and a loincloth, and was armed with a fifteen-foot long spear that had a sharp axe on each end—without doubt, he knew that this must be Set!

  Quickly, he looked over at Nemis, threw his index finger in Set’s direction, jumped onto the back of the throne, drew his other sword, and leaped right for Set, of whom had just completed materializing—the sound stopped a second later.

  In the same second, Set spun around and masterfully deflected both swords with his weapon! From the front, they could see that Set had the face of a real jackal.

  “Who are you?” Set asked, which voice sounded like three mechanical-voices speaking as one, all the while swinging his spear around in a wide circle over his head.

  Baltor did not answer, yet rolled to the right, leapt back into the air, and threw two more attacks aimed for Set’s heart.

  Again, Set easily deflected both attacks, before ordering, “I demand to know—who are you?”

  “Don’t you worry about we are,” Baltor answered, now trying to gauge his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses—meanwhile, Nemis began to chant out a spell.

  Set aimed a thrust of his spear straight for his opponent, yet Baltor barely managed to avoid the attack by rolling to his left.

  For the next minute or so, both individuals threw dozens of outstanding offensive strikes at each other, but both were equally quick with their defenses, and all was quicker than the normal human eye could see. At the end of that minute, Nemis’ hands began to shoot out snow and ice aimed for Set.

  Rapidly, ice began to form around Set’s body, and as he turned to face the direction of Nemis in order to figure out what was going on, Baltor threw both swords with all of his might. Though the sword in his left hand missed, the one in his right did not, plunging all the way to the hilt into Set’s torso.

  While howling out in pain, Set swung out his spear, which smacked hard into Baltor’s midsection. In turn, Baltor’s body flew backwards, landing on the back of his head—it was then that Nemis saw that Set’s priests and priestesses were running down the hallway and only moments away from entering the room.

  “Kill them,” Set ordered, sounding in pain and furious. He pulled Baltor’s sword out of his own body and threw it hard to the ground. Surprisingly, the sword did not shatter.

  As they tried to enter the room, Nemis aimed her blizzard attack on them—nearly a dozen turned into icicles within seconds, and many more were quickly freezing up! The priests in the rear attempted to hide behind their frozen-to-death buddies.

  Meanwhile, Baltor had willed both swords into his hands, and once acquired a split second later, he ran straight for Set, of whom he observed had lifted his right hand toward Nemis.

  Even before the next second had begun, a lightning bolt sizzled out of Set’s hand and struck her body—she flew fifty feet, before crashing into the wall and then crashing the ground! Smoke continued to rise up from her unmoving body.

  Baltor saw this, peripherally, and anger set in. He leapt once more into the air, plunging both swords deep into Set’s skull—Set tried to howl out in pain, but couldn’t as his body crumpled to the ground, now unmoving and dead.

  Seeing all of this firsthand, the priests and priestesses were in total shock that their god/Arch-Devil had just been slain—they froze in place unsure of what to do next.

  Baltor looked over, and yelled out, “You guys want some of this…come get some!”

  All but the high priestess ran upstairs … she stood in place with tears already coming out of her eyes.

  As Baltor was still wrathful, he flung his sword at her—the butt smacked into her head, knocking her out cold.

  Without any further delay, he hurried over to Nemis’ unmoving position, and after sheathing his sword, he, ever so gently, set her head into his lap.

  “Are you okay?”

  Although her eyes remained closed, she was still breathing.

  “Wake up Nemis…I know you can hear me.”

  She opened up her eyes into tiny slits, and said, “Yeah, I’m okay, though I hurt real bad!”

  “You’ll be fine,” he said.

  She had a hard time answering, due to the anguishing pains she felt. “My robes…are supposed to…protect me from lightning…but then again…that bolt of lightning came…from an Arch.”

  Just as she had completed her answer, Baltor observed—peripherally—that Beeal had just appeared out of nowhere, to their right about fifty feet away.

  Glancing over for only a second, Baltor turned his attention back onto Nemis, and said, “You should be all right then…your body’s just in shock is all.”

  “Yeah, I think so…”

  “Bravo!” Beeal said, as he clapped his hands a few times. “I didn’t think you could do it, but you did—absolutely amazing!”

  Ignoring him, Baltor asked, “You sure you’re all right, Nemis?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she responded, “I am. Just give me a minute.”

  “Take whatever time you need,” Beeal said.

  Baltor looked over and said, “I did my part of the deal, so we’re even.”

  “Yes, yes we are,” became Beeal’s joyous response as he sat in his new throne. He added, “Although, this place does need some major-major redecorating. So bland around here…”

  Baltor shook his head in condemnation, but said nothing.

  Beeal added, “Your friend’s all right…relax, Baltor.”

  She pried herself up into a sitting position, and once there a few moments later, she continued to remain seated.

  “So,” Beeal asked, “I suppose you’re all ready to get down to business and get to the next plane of hell?”

  “Almost, Arch-Devil, give her another minute to recuperate.”

  “No problem…just so you know, I won’t be able to help you through the next plane—just get you both there,” Beeal stated.

  “That’s fine,” Baltor said.

  “Baltor,” Beeal suggested, “you should really consider working for me.”

  “No thanks,” he replied with a little chuckle.

  At this point, Nemis began to try and stand up on her own, but she felt horribly weak—therefore, Baltor assisted her and held onto her just in case.

  “Well,” Baltor asked, “are you going to tilt back the throne, Beeal, so we can proceed?”

  “Actually, that was in my former plane,” he answered. “Here, the entrance is, I believe, in the pool of water upstairs next to the statue. Follow me…”

  Baltor first willed his othe
r sword back into his free hand, just before sheathing it. He then guided Nemis, following Beeal upstairs.

  Once upstairs, they saw that there were still nearly seventy priests and priestesses huddled in the corner—all looked deathly afraid, and for good reason.

  Beeal said nothing throughout the entire trip to anybody, only continued to lead the two to the pool.

  Once there, he turned around and said with a wink, “Well, seeing as you have helped me achieve my goal, I shall help you with this tip. Before you jump in into the river, I would suggest that you take your carpet, especially where you’re going next.” With that, he snapped his fingers, and the carpet appeared right next to the two.

  “Why is that?” Baltor asked.

  After laughing evilly, Beeal answered, “You’ll soon see…”

  Baltor rolled up the carpet and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Any other tips?” Baltor asked.

  Beeal answered with a diabolical smile, “Not without a cost.”

  “No thanks then,” Baltor said while shaking his head. Looking over at Nemis, he asked, “Are you ready?”

  Nemis nodded her head affirmatively one time.

  With that, the two jumped into the pool, which sucked them down the drain like a toilet. Once down the pipes, the two traveled down another waterslide.

  CHAPTER III

  Several hours later, the even-more-thrilling-than-the-first waterslide abruptly ended—in which Baltor and Nemis had just begun to move at a speed of greater than a hundred miles per hour—and a quarter-of-a-mile long stretch of gushing freefalling waterfall began. Not once had they let go of holding each other’s hand, including now.

  After freefalling with the incredible force of the water thrusting them down even harder for only the next two seconds, as they were moving that fast, they next slam-dunked into the middle of a dozen-foot deep pool of water sitting in the middle of an overflowing island!

  Even after they had sunk below the water, they sank through another half-dozen feet of mud before stopping. This impact would have instantly crushed every bone in the average person’s body, but did nothing except to knock the wind out of their lungs.