Sophia Garcia
Stories
8
Chapters
3,710
Words
2.7 M
Comments
0
Reading
9 d, 5 h
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The main arena of the central sanctuary was, in one word, enormous. Numerous platforms, steps, balconies and seats ranging in size from small to huge were located all around the stadium in a non-uniform manner. A mile high and a mile wide, this place had been carved out of the very bedrock of whatever dark metals were native to this strange abyssal realm, with an enormous statue of Gluttony’s maw standing as a monument on one end. It was under this monument that the largest balcony was located, with…
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The symbol of a scythe, a symbol of a red teardrop, and the symbol of a black sun. They were joined by the visage of the maw, and the related pillars of his soul continued to form branching spires each time the symbols flared. Riven hovered three feet up off the water’s surface, bare-backed and only wearing a set of pants. He gently let his mana swim around him and created a galaxy of teal, black, red, and deep purple in the underground hot springs room where the others were relaxing - wondering just…
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“Gentry.” The man said, slowly taking Riven’s outstretched hand and warily eyeing the other demons stepping out of their portals. “You’re… a warlock? A summoner? It isn’t often you see true battlemages before the C-grades, but after watching your brief fight I’m not sure whether your strength and speed are your focus - or whether it is your magic.” Riven chuckled at the uncomfortable dark elf in gold-trimmed blue robes, and shrugged. “Does it matter? The better question is what do you…
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“Into a bloody oblivion.” Gluttony stated sourly, watching as their mana tugged Genua’s lower and upper halves together while both Fay and the blood priestess herself cast healing abilities in the forms of Dark Pact and Transfusion Zone. “That is where the child would have gone if I’d let your careless, carefree attitude take it from us. You may be strong in the eyes of these lesser beings, Riven, but you are nowhere near the point of infallibility. Not even with me. I truly hope that Elysium’s…
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Riven was pushing another spoon full of rich-tasting, brothy soup into his mouth after having Luke and Genua sprinkle some of their blood into it. Both his thralls were up far earlier than his demons were and the three of them were sitting around a small table over breakfast. “So where were you all this time?” Looking to Luke, where the old elf was examining the recent wound which was already healed along his wrist - Riven waited curiously for the old man to answer. The elf thrall paused in thought,…
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An explosion lit up the small workshop Gragle and Riven were working in, the third time that day, and Riven blinked away dust with a cough to the laughter of his two girlfriends at his back. Wiping soot off his face and spitting out dirt, then spitting onto the ground, Riven playfully glared over his shoulder at the two demon women who cackled even more loudly at the absolute mess his attempt at creating Graphics had caused. “Laugh it up you two.” Riven said with an eye roll as Athela laughed so hard…
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Retesh Vorath’s unnatural, fleshy organs curled and unfurled randomly across his bones as the undead lich called a black mist from the ocean around him and flung the cloud at his pursuers. Judith Marcina’s golden wings pulsed with energy, encompassing her in a shield of white light that let her rip through the cloud of necrotic gasses to tear her flaming sword through Retesh’s mount - cleaving off a wing of the large drake in a single go. The two other undead drakes on either side of Retesh…
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======================================================================== Netithi Bluskish was an old Naga, with a dorsal fin down his head that was marked with holes and rips from his years of battle in the trenches of the sea against enemies of his now butchered tribe. He had numerous scars covering his body where the scales were marred in criss-cross patterns all over, and one eye had been replaced by an enchanted prosthetic akin to a purple gem that stood out starkly against his otherwise blue scales.…
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Azmoth’s roars joined the fray as he clashed with the swarm of electrical, winged serpents in the field of death beyond Riven’s fight. It was a good opportunity for the demon to level and catch up, and as Athela beat the living shit out of the matriarchal boss monster off - a huge golden tomb cobra that was getting tossed around the battlefield like a child’s plaything under the archdemon’s might - she made sure to keep tabs on Azmoth for whenever he was in a bad spot. Not that he was by any means…
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The four remaining cultists looked right, to where Riven’s carpet-bombing of the swarm had devastated hundreds of golden, flying serpents that were in large part still recovering just as Athela and her spiders plowed into them. Abilities from both sides activated as arcs of yellow lightning crashed into the archdemon, while a pillar of sin, ice and flame shattered the field and began decimating even more of the monsters. “Did I hear that demonic mouth right?” The drow death knight asked, cracking…
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