It was said that all angels received their wings by God. Molded to it's purpose. And just like anything else touched by the Divine, every centimeter of them were imbued with so much power that a single feather could be considered a great artifact worth going to bloody war over. Some say a single feather could bring a man back to life, imbue them with the strength to topple mountains or completely change the mind of even the most bitter of enemies.
Even when a third of angels rebelled and were cast out, becoming tainted by their individual sins that did not do anything to get rid of their divine nature. Instead, their uses became more insidious. Poison, love charms, curses, possessions or really anything that represented the more corrupted side of nature. What would make Devils any different from that simple fact?
Frankly, if the factions each of these divine creatures weren't as powerful as they were, then they would've probably been either hunted to extinction by some mad alchemist or herded and bred like cattle by some more 'benevolent' person.
'I can make a few good arrows with these.'
Iori thought, fingers running across the appendages that still remained warm to the touch. Thin threads of Ki intertwining themselves around it's surface like sewn cloth, siphoning and purifying the repugnant energy that tried it's best to convert everything around it. No matter what type of creature a trophy comes from, there was always some remnants of that individual left behind. An echo, a pattern to stay that could theoretically be used to put back whatever was taken.
Along with a significantly adept healer, which from which his first disciple had clued him in on the fact there were only less than a handful of those figures still alive. Most of which were locked behind enemy factions that would rather die than provide the Devils with such a boon. And if they were to try beg a wandering god to fix it? The price they would ask would be near crippling. Beings on that level of power no longer saw an upside to physical materials, they would only ever deal with the intangible. They would want 'The Strongest Queen' to swear fealty to them or even wish to acquire the combined faith of all of Devil kind.
'They would rather die than let that happen.'
"Is it really Fuji's token?"
A soft voice spoke up from sides him, a single slender hand caressed the simple amulet with a degree of gentleness that would better suit a glass figurine.
"You can sense his signature, can you not?"
He knew that wasn't the case, her sub-race of Kitsune were well known for their ability to distinguish Ki signatures from one another. Yet another benefit that could be attributed to those languidly swinging tails.
"I-I can…" Yasaka sighed, shoulders drooping visibly. Like all the passing centuries had hit her all at once. "It just brings everything back into perspective. I haven't come to recognize what it means to be one of your few surviving disciples. I still remember him as a rotten brat with a massive chip on his shoulder and I knew he'd died some time ago, it's just actually seeing this token…."
"I might've hated him for a bit. I, at the time, kind-of hated all of them for so quickly turning their blades on me. But I've never wanted to see any of them dead, especially not after Kunou-chan was born. I wanted them to see her, for her to be spoiled rotten by the same people I watched grow up...but that was just a dream. None of them were capable of living long enough for her to born...but that doesn't mean I wouldn't have dotted on their kids!"
"Instead, I'm stuck here. Chained down to this place, only capable of receiving news through missives…. Until today, this-this man was still a brat in my eyes. Someone I'd seen moon some poor merchant or get in brawl with local village kids. A no good child, that despite coming from a family of farmers, felt entitled to strength in this world… But now….?"
"….Where has the years gone, Master?" Tears shimmered over those golden eyes as she gripped the token close to her chest, that armor of authority that allowed her to stand on equal footing with factions that wanted nothing more than to turn her people into enslaved farmers slid away into nothingness. Her other hand clutching at the plain clothing, nails digging in deep as to keep this man before as a sort of anchor. "I-I can now see what you meant all those years ago…. The path to Immortality is a bloody and-"
"Lonely path." Iori nodded gravely, collecting the trembling women into his arms. Who in turned puffed into a cloud of null scented smoke and reappeared as a golden fox just small enough to lie comfortably in his lap. He ignored how his kimono was almost immediately soaked through with hot tears, they could be washed and being a teacher meant more than just nurturing powerhouses to him. At the end of the day, no matter what race someone might be they're still 'people' at the end of the day. They would trip and fall, descend into despair and rise to great of achievements that their peers could only look on with envy.
Power always came at a cost. And true Immortality wasn't any different. To take a step meant setting yourself up for constant conflict. To abandon the world you once knew and step into something uncertain. All Ancient Senjutsu Practitioners learned a very valuable lesson early on their path: your world has changed the day you first decided to take that first step. And no matter how hard you tried to fight against it, the world you once knew would move on without you. Like you had died.
It's why so many Practitioners locked themselves up high on solitary mountains just to avoid the pain of see their loved ones wither and die.
The two sat in 'silence', hand running through blonde fur as tails lightly thumped against his side. They could've stayed in that clearing for days, weeks, months, years or even decades and not even a strand of hair would weaken in color. But alas, the world stopped for no one.
"I must thank you as well." The fox murmured into his side, sharp fangs just barely far enough not to nip at the clothe. "I know it went against all your lessons. There's nothing I can do to pay that back other than to accept full responsible of whatever might happen in the future. That I swear."
The snapping of a chain could be heard and just out of the corner of Iori's eye, he could see them. Golden links intertwining intimately with his very soul, some spewing off far into the great beyond while others connected to the creature in his lap. Intangible and unbreakable, they just stood their. A constant reminder of his shackles to this world.
But those weren't what had almost forced his hand. Instead, it was a single rusted chain covered in barbs that had pierced itself deeply into his very being. He could sense the malice permeating off the thing, could feel the emotions running through them with all their might. And could even see it disappear off into the distance.
Despite this new gain sight being new, he just knew this barbed chain was also recent. Having only formed after he'd sent the freshly de-winged Devil on her marry-way, the group of heirs and their peerage's shock could be felt even without his enhanced senses. And unlike the other's who'd only trembled in fear at the sight before them, only a single person flared with so much hatred that it was almost palpable.
A boy. The son of the 'Strongest Queen' and Sirzechs Lucifer. A child that simply oozed of the same energy whatever those golden links were made from.
Even several hours later, that malice could still be felt as though the source of it was right in front him. An ill-omen if there ever was one. And Iori only dealt with such things in most simple and straightforward ways.
Eradication to the very roots and beyond.
"Very well." The old monster wasn't one to easily reject the nature of his first disciple. She'd always had those parental instincts, even with some of her fellow disciples. Causing no end of friction between them. "I will leave it to you. I suspect everything is up to standard?"
"...Yes." The fox dug her nose deeper into his kimono, as though entrenching herself deeper would change anything. "You have given me and my people more than I could ever hope for, there's no way I can ever hope to repay this favor. Thank you again, Master. When will you be leaving?"
"A good teacher doesn't keep such matters in mind. I will be leaving in the morning. I wish to pay respects to my disciple's final resting place and maybe check in on his descendant. I should be gone for a few weeks to a month. Besides, it'll give me some time to explore this new era."
"I will be here, Master. For whenever you do return, you will always have a place with me and my people."