A/N: I'm giving you all am early chapter so you calm down. Don't drop the fanfic okay. I'm nothing without you guys đ„Č
Also It's my birthday on the 23rd of March âđ. If any of you feel like blessing me early for my birthday
You can tip any amount from $1 on [ko-fi.com/tenten100]. . Thank you in advance :)
---
The Barren Lands were exactly as the name suggested.
Dry.
Empty.
Unforgiving.
Wind swept across the cracked earth in long, restless breaths, carrying dust and loose gravel over a landscape that looked more like the skeleton of a dead sea than a battlefield. Jagged stone outcroppings rose from the ground here and there like broken fangs, but otherwise the land was flat enough for armies to kill each other without obstruction.
It was the kind of place chosen for one reason only.
So nothing valuable would be destroyed.
Ten figures moved across that wasteland in disciplined silence.
White cloaks fluttered.
Boots pressed into dry earth.
Holy energy rolled from them in quiet waves, each one measured, restrained, under control.
At the front of the formation walked Hinata Sakaguchi.
Her expression was calm and unreadable.
Behind her, the rest of the Ten Great Saints advanced in their arranged order, each keeping a careful eye on the terrain and the horizon.
Nobody was relaxed.
Nobody was foolish enough for that.
Still, there was a certain steadiness to the group.
This was no desperate march.
This was a chosen one.
They had known for days that this battle would happen.
Now that they were finally here, there was no room left for doubt.
Bacchus was the first to break the silence.
"Well," he said, glancing around at the endless waste, "I'll give him this. He picked a battlefield with no audience."
Garde snorted.
"You wanted civilians watching?"
"No," Bacchus replied. "I just wanted a dramatic entrance."
Glenda, walking a little to the side, let out a quiet laugh.
"You're lucky the Commander hasn't stabbed you yet."
Hinata didn't even look back.
"Keep your focus."
Bacchus raised both hands slightly.
"See? That's exactly what I mean. No sense of theater."
Saare clicked his tongue.
"You can joke when we're done."
Fritz looked out over the plain.
"If we're done."
That killed the little bit of humor immediately.
Nobody rebuked him.
Because he wasn't wrong.
A Primordial Demon was waiting ahead.
And whether they returned or not would depend on what happened in the next few hours.
Leonard Jester stepped up a little closer to Hinata.
"No visible signs yet," he said.
Hinata nodded once.
"He'll appear."
Arnaud Bauman adjusted his grip on his weapon.
"He invited us. He won't run."
Grigori's eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the distant horizon.
"He wants this battle."
Litus let out a slow breath.
"That much was obvious from the challenge."
For another minute or so, the group advanced through the waste.
Thenâ
A small shape appeared far ahead.
Just a dot at first.
Then a person.
Standing alone.
Motionless and waiting.
The Saints slowed.
The formation tightened naturally.
Not a single order was needed.
The air changed.
The pressure in the battlefield shifted.
Bacchus squinted.
"That him?"
Hinata had already stopped walking.
"Yes."
The figure ahead of them stood atop a flat piece of broken rock, one foot slightly forward, coat moving in the wind.
Maroon.
That was the first thing Hinata noticed.
The deep maroon of his suit stood out strangely against the pale dead land around him.
Then his hair.
Then his eyes.
And finallyâ
The smile.
When Loki saw them stop, he slowly lifted one hand.
Then spread both arms outward dramatically.
"So," he called, his voice carrying across the wasteland with theatrical flourish, "the little crusaders finally arrive before their magnificent doom."
Silence.
A sharp gust of wind passed between the two sides.
Bacchus blinked.
Glenda stared.
Fritz frowned.
Saare's expression twisted slightly.
Loki lowered his arms halfway, then lifted his chin.
"I have awaited your approach with dark amusement, saints of fleeting flesh."
He paused.
Then added, with even more dramatic weightâ
"Come. Witness despair under the shadow of my terrible demonic majesty."
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
A very awkward beat passed.
Hinata stared at him.
Her expression did not change.
But something in her eyes did.
'A terrible demonic majesty?'
Another beat passed.
Loki remained perfectly still, as if waiting for his words to sink in.
'Huh.'
Hinata narrowed her eyes just a little.
'That tone...'
It was familiar.
Not the words themselves.
The performance.
The posture.
The way he spread his arms like he was trying to make his silhouette bigger. The way he lifted his chin too high. The way he let each sentence hang in the air as if expecting thunder to crack behind him.
'He sounds like a low-budget anime villain.'
That thought came so suddenly that Hinata almost frowned.
Her eyes stayed on him.
'No... not just low-budget.'
The memory sharpened.
A late-night television screen.
A ridiculous cape.
A villain monologuing before getting beaten in the same episode.
'More like one of those old overacting villains who kept announcing how evil they were in case the audience forgot.'
She stared.
Loki, meanwhile, slowly brought one hand to his chest.
"Yes. Tremble. For I am the calamity you were foolish enough to challenge."
Another pause.
Then, in a lower voiceâ
"The demon before whom all hope shallâ"
Bacchus lifted a hand slightly.
"Commander."
Hinata did not look away from Loki.
"Yes."
"âŠIs he serious?"
Hinata took a second before answering.
"âŠI don't know."
Glenda quietly covered her mouth.
Her shoulders trembled.
Saare glanced at her.
"Don't."
"I'm not," Glenda said quickly, though the corners of her mouth were already lifting. "I'm definitely not laughing."
Loki's eye twitched very slightly.
Then he coughed into his fist and straightened.
"Silence, insects."
He pointed toward them.
"You stand before a being whose cruelty is matched only by his boundlessâ"
He paused.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Then continued.
"âmalice."
Hinata noticed it.
That tiny hesitation.
'He forgot his next line.'
No.
More accuratelyâ
'He's improvising.'
That was when Hinata's suspicion deepened.
She had seen him before.
At least in battle.
And thisâ
This performanceâ
Did not fit the pressure in front of her.
The man standing there was dangerous.
Nothing about that part was false.
But his acting?
'Horrible.'
Loki swept his hand over the wasteland.
"Behold this land. It shall be your grave, your tomb, and your final stage of pathetic resistance."
Bacchus looked around at the empty desert.
"Bit repetitive."
Litus elbowed him lightly.
"Would you stop commenting on his speech?"
"He started it," Bacchus muttered.
Leonard stepped forward slightly.
"Enough."
His voice was calm but firm.
He looked at Loki directly.
"We came because you called for this battle."
Loki's expression shifted.
Only slightly.
Then he gave a low, almost villainous chuckle.
"Indeed."
He clasped one hand over the other behind his back.
"And now, you shall know the despair of having answered."
Hinata finally took a step forward.
The rest of the Saints held position.
The distance between her and Loki was still significant, but now the battlefield felt truly split into two sides.
"Loki."
Her voice cut cleanly through the wind.
His gaze fixed on her immediately.
"You challenged us."
"Yes," Loki replied.
"You chose the battlefield."
"Yes."
"You said you would come alone."
A pause.
Then Loki spread one hand toward himself.
"And do your eyes deceive you, holy woman?"
Hinata looked at him for a long moment.
Then she said, "No."
Another gust of wind moved across the plain.
Just him.
Standing there alone.
Bad acting asideâ
He had at least kept his word.
Hinata's hand shifted lightly toward the hilt of her sword.
'He came alone.'
Her eyes narrowed a fraction.
'Which means he's either arrogant... or sincere.'
Then her mind circled back to his speech and she almost sighed internally.
'Or both.'
Loki noticed the slight movement of her hand and dramatically widened his grin.
"Yes. Reach for your blade. Cling to your fragile courage. It will make your downfall all the sweeter."
Glenda really did laugh that time.
Just a short sound.
Barely audible.
But audible enough.
Saare turned toward her.
"You actually laughed."
She cleared her throat and straightened.
"I did not."
"You did."
"I was breathing."
Fritz muttered, "If he kills us after that, it'll be deserved."
Loki's expression flattened for the briefest moment.
Then he quickly restored his dark smirk.
"Mock if you wish," he said. "The wicked stars themselves sing of your defeat."
Bacchus stared.
"âŠWhat does that even mean?"
Garde exhaled sharply through his nose.
Now even he was struggling.
Hinata closed her eyes for one brief second.
Just one.
Then opened them again.
Enough.
Whatever this wasâ
Whether he was mocking them, playing with them, or simply being insufferableâ
The battle itself would reveal the truth soon enough.
She drew her sword.
The steel sang as it left the sheath.
At that sound, the rest of the Saints moved as one.
Weapons came free.
Holy energy rose.
Their earlier humor vanished almost immediately.
Because whatever Loki's speech sounded likeâ
The pressure underneath it was real.
Very real.
Loki's smile changed too.
It was still playful.
Still annoying.
Still carrying that theatrical nonsense.
But there was something sharper in it now.
Something dangerous.
He rolled one shoulder and flexed his fingers.
Then raised one hand toward them like a king granting permission.
"Very well, champions of misguided light."
His voice lowered just slightly.
"Come entertain me."
The wind picked up.
Dust lifted between the two sides.
Hinata angled her sword forward.
Leonard and Arnaud adjusted their footing.
Bacchus let out one final breath through his nose.
Glenda's smile disappeared.
Saare's eyes hardened.
Grigori lowered his center of gravity.
Litus, Garde, and Fritz all settled into position.
Ten Saints.
One demon.
The Barren Lands held their breath.
And thenâ
Both sides prepared to engage.
---
Find early chapters and daily updates on my patreonÂ
[Patreon.com/tenten100?]