Chapter 72: Episode 69

Words Count: 4869

A/N: So… My dad went to the ER yesterday. Dude was visiting his old friends and decided to drink a crap load of wine for whatever reason. I was writing when my sister phoned me, telling me he was in the hospital. The guy had a stroke before, and we were really fucking worried, but turns out, drinking wine and going on a bus are not a good combination. He puked all over the bus, then fell unconscious. Christ… Bro scared the shit out of us.

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read from Episode 70 to 99 in advanced and the Tier starts from as low as 1USD, try it out! (Please, help out a brother, I’m gonna go broke from all the Red Envelopes I’ll have to hand out.)

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor

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Shiro knew not what Ghosts or Demons had beckoned her to hide here, in this ridiculous and surprisingly spacious broom-closet, or was it a maintenance room?

‘Why does a Church that barely get any visitors have so much cleaning supplies?’ She asked, if only to distract her mind from the banging outside, a result of the magically mutated Insects hammering away at the door. Thank the Gods she had had the foresight to push several shelves and utilities to barricade it shut. Although, judging from the spreading, ever widening cracks, those were doing very little to keep the monstrosities out.

It's wearing her mental health thin– Even thinner than it already was thanks to the daily visits from all those Vengeful Spirits,

And unfortunately, Sakura’s constant whimpers were not exactly helping either,

At least she wasn’t screaming her lungs out anymore. Shiro supposed she had Avalon to thank for that, seeing as her wayward kouhai had been glowing with golden particles since she prayed to the Noble Phantasm.

Left in the dark, the only thing the smol Heroine of Justice had to accompany her were the haunting noises that eerily resembled her nightmares, coming from everywhere, all at once. Her calloused hands quickly reached out to grab the plum-haired girl’s gently, gaze worried. “Sakura, I know it’s painful, but you have to fight, okay? Leonis will come for us, just you have to bear with it for a while…”

Once again, the smol Heroine of Justice was confronted with the Reality of her situation, confronted with the fact she was weak, and utterly pathetic. If Leonis was here, he might have– Could have ended this long ago and ripped the Insects to shreds. He wouldn’t have had to resort to hiding from the monstrosities like the two of them were doing… Like cornered rats.

Shiro thought she was powerful.

Even while haunted and being psychologically-tormented, the aspiring Heroine of Justice had yet to miss a single day of training.

Both her Magecraft and Swordsmanship were coming along nicely.

She was on the right track to becoming a Superhero, that was until today. What could she do against a seemingly endless swarms of mutated Insects? It’s not like she hadn’t tried to fight them off, but a Sword could only do so much against the swarm of slippery Insects…

‘Is this my fate?’ The girl pondered.

‘To be weak and useless for the rest of my life…?’ Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, not out of sadness, or fear, or even panic.

Instead, it was out of sheer frustration at her own helplessness. She hadn’t been able to help when her kouhai– When her Sakura was being tortured…! In fact, she hadn’t noticed a thing out of place. If not for Leonis, she would have remained oblivious and in the dark about the sufferings her kouhai went through at the hands of her ‘grandfather’. What kind of Hero was she, to not even realize what someone so close to her was going through?

The signs were there too!

The emotionless, almost dead-eyed expression the plum-haired girl would wear when she thought Shiro wasn’t looking. The gentle, yet visibly forced smile that would grace Sakura’s lips. Her horribly-bruised arms shown every time she rolled up her sleeves to enter the kitchen with Shiro. Yes, the signs were clearly there, and somehow the Heroine of Justice, the Title now making Shiro want to retch, still failed to take notes of what was happening.

If only she had paid closer attention, if only she had–

Shiro fell to her knees, hands clutching her chest as phantom smokes and ashes started to fill her lungs.

She couldn’t breath… ShE COuldn’t bReAth! WHy COUldn’T sHe bReAtH?!

Like some sort of cosmic joke, the shrieking Insects decided to pick that precise moment to break through the door, their hungry, dripping maws widening at the sight of the girls– One squirming weakly on the operating-table, the other struggling to suck in desperate gulps of fresh air only to find herself wasting more and more precious oxygen as she flailed around, clawing at her own throat.

“There you are, granddaughter…” To the girls’ surprise, the Insects spoke. The speech was garbled, guttural, weirdly high-pitched, and exactly like what Shiro would expect of a Demon straight out from the darkest, foulest depths of Hell. Yet, it was oh-so familiar to her ears.

Shiro had heard this voice before, she noted.

There was no way she could forget. She could remember it still, the slimy sensation that ran down her back and skin, like a tongue bound in barbed wires licking at her. Only one man– One Monster had ever given her this feeling. It wasn’t scarier than the Vengeful Spirits haunting her dreams, it wasn’t nearly as… Utterly terrifying as seeing the crimson-eyed blonde for the first time, but it was undoubtedly the creepiest… “You- You’re Zou- Zouken!”

Gritting her teeth, Shiro forced the words out through tightly-pressed lips. “It’s time we go home, granddaughter. You’ve been quite… Naughty, but fear not. The destruction of the Crest Worms can be rectified still, you only have to spend a night in the Pit.”

She knew not what the Pit was, but judging from the rather violent seizures the plum-haired girl was having, the subconscious reactions of her muscles as they tensed up in obvious terror, Shiro knew- She simply knew it could not be anything good. “You’re- You’re not touching her!”

“Ah… Yes, Ms. Emiya, is it? Perhaps you can join my granddaughter too, I truly wish to witness his expression when he finally gets to see you and my granddaughter in the Pit, together.” Despite her body’s protests, the girl was able to rise to her feet, her insecurities having been washed away to make space for determination and anger as the Insects closed in. “It will surely be a delight to see.”

Gone was the pathetic girl who could barely survive the Fuyuki’s Great Fire,

Gone was the aspiring, yet frustrated little Heroine,

All that’s left was a Cursed Sword, one shaped by the Everdistant Utopia, and forged by the Fire which contained All of Humanity’s Evils. “Matou Zouken–”

Steel swords flashed into existence, resting firmly in her palms. “Touch Sakura, and I’ll end you.”

It wasn’t a threat, not to the Cursed Sword at least.

It was a promise, one wrought with pains and sufferings as thick, vicious Darkness spilt from her sleeves to coat the previously mundane blades.

Contrary to the Cursed Sword’s expectations, the Insects narrowed their multitudes of eyes, as though to trying to look past and into her. Then, the maniacal giggles came– Like they had just seen the most hilarious thing ever, the Insects cackled, their voices growing more and more deranged, whatever human qualities that were once somewhat there, audible, were now completely gone without a trace.

“You were interesting before, but now you have my undivided attention… Perhaps you’ll make an even better Lesser Grail than my wayward granddaughter.” The swarms crawled towards them menacingly, yet all Shiro felt was a sense of emptiness. Where there was supposed to be fear, there’s only unbridled anger and relentless hate. Emotionlessly, the Cursed Sword tilted her head, replying with cracking voice. “I’m going to kill you.”

No further words were necessary as they both made up their minds about their next courses of actions. The swarms surged forth with vigor, as though they could taste victory at the tip of their tongues, while the Cursed Sword readied herself, before launching forwards, legs empowered by the dark, corruptive Mana coursing through her Magic Circuits.

“Die.” She– It ordered, and the swarms were blown to bits.

First swing brought about waves of cursed Mana, devouring all that stood in their path.

And yet, there were still more.

Spiders, bees, worms and all manners of insects the Cursed Sword could barely name, all twisted to reflect the dark nature of their creator– Their Master.

This was not a battle of Skills or Techniques.

No, no… This was a battle of Attrition and Brutality.

The Cursed Sword tore its way through the swarms with reckless abandon, uncaring of the damages it was taking. It had a Mission, an Objective, and that’s to protect the delirious and unconscious behind it at all costs. Not because it felt anything for her– For Swords did not feel, they existed to serve their Masters’ whims and desires. If their Masters wished for them to be an Object to bring about Death and Destruction, then it was their purpose to obey…

But that’s not what its once lost Master– Leonis had asked of it, its Master wanted it to protect the plum-haired girl, its other, weaker parts wanted it to protect the girl as well, so protect her it shall.

A Spider the size of its fist landed on the Sword’s shoulder, its poisonous fangs biting down at its flesh,

There were reactions, obviously.

Ultimately, this Body was still made of Flesh, Blood and Bones,

No matter how hard the Sword willed it to Steel, it could not change that fact…

Or could it?

Suddenly, Bones became Steel-Tubes

Flesh changed to rows upon rows of tiny Blades as Scales sprouted over its skin.

Realizing the poisons bothered it no longer, the Sword began to channel its Other-Self’s desperation, wielding the Human’s desires to protect and save like a source to fuel its newfound… Form. There were fear in the Insects’ eyes now, fear of what it was becoming, of what it was capable of. And, oddly enough, it couldn’t quite shake the sense of satisfaction hammering at its chest.

But, that’s not quite right.

How could a Sword feel?

How could it?

The Cursed Sword shook the distracting questions away,

It had an Objective, a Mission,

Failure was not permitted, a Sword that failed to accomplish its Master’s wishes was an useless Sword, and an useless Sword had no reason to continue existing. It would not allow these, these thoughts and feelings to divert its attention from its purpose.

Fluids covered its form from head to toes, covered its blades in slimy, disgusting fleshy-matters. The Cursed Sword sighed, it would have to clean itself later… It would not do for a blade to be dull, after all. In a trance, Time had no meaning for the Cursed Sword, not that Time had ever mattered to it before, but eventually it felt him– Its Master. It once had two Masters, both giving it purposes, orders, but one was dead and buried, while the other was lost.

It thought it could only serve the purposes and dreams of its dead Masters,

Thankfully one was alive still, and the sight of him filled it with overwhelming joy. The same joy that consumed the Human, even if she barely acknowledged those feelings– Wait, it was feeling again!

‘This can not be permitted.’ The Cursed Sword told itself as its Master tore through the swarms with fervor, wielding Steels, Fire and Lightning so efficiently they appeared extensions of himself. Its gaze landed on the blades in his hands, and it could not quite suppress the jealousy it felt. Why did its Master need other Swords when he already had it? Was it not good enough, was it because of its shape? Surely, a Swordsman of his caliber would be able to wield this shape as well, no? “Shiro, are you alright–?”

Its Master’s voice was caught in his throat as he looked at it, really look.

Even the horrified expression he wore could not discourage its excitement. Its Master was looking at it finally! Not the Human, but it. “Master, have I done well? Are you proud of me?”

It said, vibrating in place excitedly.

“Good Gods, what have you done to yourself, Shiro?” Sadly, it would seem its Master was not happy with its appearance. Just like that, whatever bit of happiness it felt died. But wait, perhaps this was actually a good thing? A Sword should not feel, it should only do. “Shiro, I need you to reverse whatever it is you did, RIGHT NOW. Do you understand? Can you hear me?”

Cautiously, Leonis approached with apprehension on his face. That made it sad, but it could understand why. Its observation of humans and their behaviors had made it somewhat decent at comprehending the whys. As much as it needed him, the Cursed Sword was essentially a stranger to him. He had always interacted with Shiro, never it, and seeing a Body once made of Flesh and Bones, turned to Steels and Crystals must have given him quite the fright.

Silently, the Cursed Sword relinquished control, allowing the Human to control their Vessel once more. It did not want to, but it had to, for its Master.

And like that, the Sword fell into slumber, submerged in the Darkness of their subconsciousness, while Shiro rose again to the forefront of their conjoined mind. It’s not time yet, one day its Master would acknowledge it, acknowledge the role he played in Shiro’s and subsequently its creation, but that day was not today,

And… That’s fine, it told itself.

It could wait, the Sword reassured one last time before it willingly sunk into the dark, dark Void.

—— [Fate: DML] ——

Shiro dropped like a puppet with its strings cut as I caught her.

Thank Gil’s golden grace I had the foresight to slaughter all the Crest… Insects(?) beforehand, yet I could hear the skittering and flapping of wings coming ever closer.

I couldn’t leave them here, and I couldn’t blink them out either, not while Sakura was still going through her Witcher Trials. A single mistake, a single magical particle gone to down the wrong pipe, and she could- would be fucking gone. My eyes shot towards the plum-haired girl still shivering, strapped on the operating-table securely. Thank Gods she was fine, I knew not what Shiro did, what Spells she used, but she did it.

Sakura was safe and sound, not a scratch on her.

Even better, Shiro looked fine, if exhausted as her head rested on my chest, her breathings slightly labored and heavy.

Hugging Shiro, I blinked just outside the unnecessarily huge broom-closet where Sakura laid. ‘Guess I now know what Kotomine spent Rin’s money… Are those twelve bags of bleach–? Wait, never mind. Focus.’

After putting Shiro down, I checked on the plum-haired girl’s state, watching in amazement at the golden particles wafting in all directions with Sakura being in the center. It was Avalon, it must be, but what triggered it? Sure, the Everdistant Utopia was a powerful Noble Phantasm, possessing a regenerative-effect, yet my memories told me it should not be anywhere near this powerful, not unless Artoria was here to provide her blood and/or Mana.

My gaze moved up the plum– Well, I supposed calling her a plum-haired girl was no longer an option, given how she looked now. She had been cleansed, her once plum-colored hair, a defining feature of the Matou thanks to the old Worm’s meddling with their genetics was completely gone, changed to the familiar dark brown Rin had inherited from their parents. Carefully, I peeled up her eyelids, her irises had turned blue too!

‘Is this normal?’ Angra asked, and I could feel his presence, his elbow resting on my shoulder. Perhaps being in Nasuverse had slowly strengthened him somehow, and after the display Ahriman showed me, I wasn’t surprised. I answered, my worry yet to be abated. ‘No, the Trials can’t reverse genetic changes, it strengthens, heals, and destroys destructive things and properties in the body, but it can’t…’

I trailed off, amusement growing as I felt Avalon.

The Sheath really, really did not like me.

Just by being here, I was causing its effects to weaken.

Perhaps it’s all the people I directly and indirectly murdered, but the Everdistant Utopia was seemingly repulsed by my very presence. That hurt my feelings. I said, deadpanning and reluctantly, “Really, there’s a dying girl here and you’re going to be petty?”

The Sheath resumed its magical Aura once more, its Mana nudging at my brain, like a human trying to shoo a very annoying dog away. I rolled my eyes. “I need to check on her status… I started the Trial, I must help her finish it.”

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Again, reluctantly the Sheath allowed me to enter its… Field. Next, I focused my gaze on her womb. ‘Way to sound creepy, Leo-tan.’

‘Shut your hole, it’s not my fault Zouken placed the Crest Worms there.’ Gods, I hoped the Dimensional FBI didn’t kick down my door for this. ‘Who the fuck are the Dimensional FBI? Do they even exist?!’

‘It’s your mama.’

‘Eat shit.’

‘You first, ugly motherfucker.’

It looked like the Trial was overall successful. In fact, I’d say Sakura-chan’s Trials were even better than mine were. Her already excessive Mana-Pool had grown considerably– No, it had grown tremendously. Whereas the former Sakura was a lake, this one felt like a violently coursing river. Her presence alone felt more like a Phantasmal Species than a Magus, which was odd. I did not get any of that when I did my own Trials, then again, I did not have fucking Avalon to rely on and soothe my pains.

Even her skin, which was previously spotless and smoother than a baby’s arse, courtesy of being an Eroge Heroine no doubt, seemed revitalized, and her ears…

They were pointy!

“Did- Did you grant her Fae Blood?” The thought hit me with the force of an eighteen-wheeler going at top-speed down Mount Everest. Another nudge hammered against my mind, threatening as though to warn me not to hurt Sakura. “Okay, now that’s just hurtful. I fucking saved her from almost a decade more of sufferings, why would I kill her now?”

The third nudge nearly made me lose my shit,

The Sheath was incapable of speech, but it might as well have said, ‘You never know with you Mages.’

“Oh-Fuck off, you prick…”

Anyone who said Avalon could not harm people was dead fucking wrong, because that shitty, stuck-up Sheath just slapped on the face with a golden barrier! “You bitch!”

Because I genuinely believed a Sheath that sassy could only be a woman.

“Fine, fuck it. You think you can protect the girls?” Its response was just a feeling, a slight sensation, but I could tell the Sheath was telling me it had no Mana to conjure its unbreakable barrier. Hence, I decided to inject my Mana into it, Lara Dorren was an Elf, and Elves were often associated with Fae, weren’t they? It might work… Fun fact, Fae and Fairies were actually two different things, kinda like different tribes so to say, and according to records, they did not take well to people comparing them with each other and–

‘Fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to–?!’

I scoffed. ‘Right, right. Got it.’

Injecting Mana into Avalon felt… Weird. I could sense the Sheath’s feelings(?), and the fucking thing did not like my Mana at all, but it also seemed confused as to why my Mana had so many similarities with the Fae.

I did not explain,

And it did not ask.

“Time to play Exterminator…” Before leaving, I checked on the girls one last time, all traces of the Crest Worms just disappeared from Sakura approximately three seconds ago.

Suddenly, a loud screech– No, it was many shrieks and screeches layered over each other. I knew immediately the old Worm must have felt the complete destruction of his main Crest Worms, and not wanting to miss watching Matou Zouken running like a bitch, I blinked outside, a carefree smile plastered on my lips.

There several hiccups along the way, but I- We did it! Sakura’s safe, now I just needed to grab one of Zouken’s familiars, then used its connection to the whole hive to search and destroy.

Things would have gone much easier if I had a Spell to kill all the Crest Insects at once, but this was fine too, I think? No idea why past me cared so much what happened to the inhabitants of Fuyuki. Other than Gil, Rin, Shiro, Sakura and maybe, and that’s a big fucking maybe, Taiga Fujimura, I couldn’t care less about the rest of this City. I was neither their King, nor their Lord– That Title belonged to Rin, why should their wellbeing be of my concern? Beside, if I was relentless enough, Zouken wouldn’t even have the time to kill people.

There would be casualties, obviously,

But there were always casualties when it came to matters of the Moonlit World.

So what if a few humans died along the way, Mankind repopulated like rabbits anyway.

I was just swift enough to see Matou Zouken on his knees like he was about to suck some dicks– ‘Bro… I do not need that in my imagination.’

‘Fine, fine. You’re fucking boring for a Daemon.’ I smirked as the old Worm screamed my name, parts mournful, parts angry. “Wha‐ No… No, no, no! What have you done, Leonis Magnum! Come out!”

‘Let the show begin…’

“There is no need to yell, I’m here.” Unlike Kotomine, whom I had genuinely liked, much as I loathed to admit it,

Matou Zouken, or Makiri Zolgen was fair game.

—— [Fate: DML] ——

They ran.

The Hivemind could do nothing but run.

What could they do when their Mana was running lower and lower with every ticking second? Yet somehow, the Magus was always able to find them.

Even with the five minutes head-start, attempting to outrun a Magus who could teleport was futile efforts. They– Zouken knew this, yet he did not stop.

He could not.

He refused to die here, when his Dream was so, so close.

Or was it? The Crest Worms he had implanted in the second Tohsaka had been destroyed, the fragments of the corrupted Lesser Grail likely gone too.

His Dream of Immortality– True Immortality, one that allowed him freedom of the Curse of Soul Degradation had never been farther than now. Still, he could rectify the situation, he was Matou Zouken, and they-he had survived multiple Grail Wars!

But, deep down, the old Worm knew this was the End…

Even as his selves splintered in different bodies, racing down sewers, weaving through trees and flew high enough to blot out the Sky, Matou Zouken could feel himself, parts of him at least, died.

Cut, sliced and diced.

Burnt, electrocuted and torn apart by blades of winds.

A few parts, the stupidest, most prideful parts chose to fight in hope of killing the pursuing Magus, but watching them being dismantled only discouraged the entirety of the Hivemind that much more. The little that remained of his Humanity, of the man he once was screamed in excitement and vindication, as though happy that they were finally freed from this accursed fate and form. They were fools! Zouken scoffed.

Only with True Immortality would he able to…

.

..

…

Why was he seeking True Immortality again? Death was scary, but few Mages truly feared it, else they would have abandoned their Crafts long ago.

Was he searching for the Root like everybody else? That seemed plausible, yet the deepest reaches of his mind said otherwise. Makiri Zolgen had not cared about such an elusive thing, then why was he–?

Zouken jumped on the unsuspecting group of humans, their cries and screams barely getting out before being silenced forever as his Worms crawled into their mouths, their sharp mandibles piercing tearing open the inner of their throats to gulp down precious blood greedily. All humans, even Non-Magi had Od, albeit an extremely low amount, but it was more than the Hivemind could ask for at this point.

Once done, he made sure to devour their them to the bones, not that this would provide him much more Mana, but even a dime was precious for a poor person, and Zouken was practically starving. He felt another swarm being destroyed, the haunting laughter of Leonis Magnum ringing through his proverbial ears like the most Hellish melodies. Beautiful, yet utterly terrifying. He had prepared for a whole lot of issues to arise, yet never in his centuries of living did he suspect a snot-nosed brat could corner him like this.

Zouken had no cards to play,

No chess pieces to move,

All he had was himself, and memories…

Memories of a prettier times, when he was–!

Waves of Lightning coursed through a swarm two miles North of him, incinerating to ashes and dusts.

‘Perhaps this is my retribution…?’ He– The remnants of his shredded Humanity asked, sounding more resigned than Zouken would care to admit. Then, his mind wandered back to his reasons again. Why had he done all this? Why was he in such desperate, bitter seek for True Immortality? The real reason had faded long ago, gone in puffs of smokes, or so he thought, yet now that he was met with Death, it climbed to the surface.

Beautiful white hair,

Ruby-red eyes,

And that pretty smile that once haunted his dreams.

Einzbern

Justeaze Einzbern…

That’s it!

That’s where it all began!

He had forgotten, once he sought to create Paradise. Devastated by the realization that Paradise did not exist, he took to travel the World, trying to figure out the correct path and then–!

The last swarm was blown to bits, their remains turning into bubbling mass of acidic liquids on the pavements. The last Worm, the last vestige of Matou Zouken crawled from the crater, its beady eyes rolling about in panic, desperate to find its assailant, until it did. There he was, the young Magus who brought Matou Zouken, the five centuries old Apostle to his heels. “Yooou- You’re–”

It croaked, shivering as the Magus laughed.

“How are you doing there? Had fun playing hide’n’seek with me?” The young Magus stepped on its tail, a sadistic grin pulling on his cheeks. And yet, Zouken– No, Zolgen could not help but feel relief. It was his time finally… He was dead, had been dead for hundreds of years since his beloved’s sacrifice to the Holy Grail.

Once, he thought Paradise did not exist, which was why he sought to create it, to make a World without pains, without sufferings, then he found her– Justeaze Einzbern. She was as beautiful as she was talented, she was his life, his Paradise. When she died, parts of him died with her, and all that’s left was a bitter old man who had gone against everything he had believed in as a young man. A Paradise created on the sufferings of others could not last, he knew this well…

He knew, and still!

Still he couldn’t fight the Degradation of Souls, the rotting of his Spirit.

The Apostle screamed at the bars, hatred overwhelming senses and rationality, but Makiri Zolgen couldn’t be happier.

He was happy that someone stopped him,

Happy that he had failed in his Quest for True Immortality,

Happy that he could at last die and maybe, just maybe he could find his Paradise once again.

Though after everything he had done, she might spit on his face. “T- Than- Thank… You. I- I can d-die at last.”

To his surprise, the young Magus laughed even louder, palming his face to cover the deranged smile plastered on his lips. “You- You think I’m gonna let you have your happily ever after?! Are you that dumb? I know I said it’s nothing personal, but you hurt Rin…”

The foot stepping on his tail increased in pressure, causing the Crest Worm to screech in agony. “You hurt Shiro, you hurt Sakura, and you tried to hurt Gil! Not that you would have succeeded, but still… No, no– You’ll not get to die, not until I’m finished with you. Not until I feel like you’ve served your sentence!”

From his sleeve, the Magus pulled out a knife, “You know, I’ve recently learnt [Demonology], and there are two Functions to it, according to the Game. One is to summon existing Demons and binding them to you, and in turn you must grant them their payments.”

Leonis Magnum’s deranged expression neared, and for the first time for ages, Makiri Zolgen felt genuine fear. “The second allows me to transform corpses into Demons, corrupting Souls and such. Obviously, there are limitations to it, someone more powerful than me can resist the Skill, but–”

His cyan eyes gleamed under the Moonlight. “– You’re not stronger than me, not as you are now. Hell, you’re not even stronger than me at your peak!”

He clapped. “I haven’t gotten to test this Skill out yet, that makes you my first attempt! Be honored.”

The knife, covered in Unholiness pricked at the Worm, and all Zolgen knew from them on was agony as his flesh morphed and his Soul demonized. “Even in Death, you’ll never find Justeaze Einzbern, you do not deserve such Ending after everything you’ve done.”

Those were the last words he heard, before Zolgen was extinguished,

And a Nameless Demon rose in his place, ready and ever eager to serve its new Master faithfully.

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