If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !
/-\
Hell trembled under the clash of Etrigan and the Shadow Marshall Bellion.
Etrigan spread his arms wide and burned.
Hellfire erupted from his body in spirals and sigils, shaping itself midair into molten reflections of himself. Three. Then six. Then a dozen. Each one laughing, moving with the same predatory grace as the original.
"Face me once, or face me thrice
My flames obey, they heed my vice!"
The fire-clones attacked.
Bellion did not retreat.
The first clone struck from above, claws crashing down like a meteor. Bellion pivoted, blade snapping into whip-form, its edge slicing clean through the construct's torso. The fire-form screamed as it collapsed into sparks but two more slammed into him from opposite sides, driving him back, boots skidding across molten stone.
A third clone detonated point-blank, engulfing Bellion in hellfire.
For a heartbeat, the square vanished in flame.
John leaned forward behind the barrier. "Alright… that's gotta hurt."
The fire parted.
Bellion stepped out.
Unburned.
"Or maybe not." John quickly corrected himself.
Shadow rolled off him like smoke in reverse, swallowing the lingering flames whole. He moved fast.
The blade snapped and reformed, each strike a perfect equation angle, momentum, termination. One clone lost its head. Another was split vertically. A third had its core pierced, imploding into ash.
Within seconds, the fire-clones were gone.
Etrigan laughed loud, delighted.
"Yes! Yes! Strike and slay!
At last, a foe who makes me play!"
He surged forward, abandoning distance. Claws met steel. Fists met armor. Fire met shadow.
They collided like two titans.
Etrigan fought like a brawler king, elbows, knees, headbutts, claws wreathed in flame. He slammed Bellion into the ground, followed with a downward punch that cratered the stone. Bellion rolled, rose, countered with a knee to the ribs that cracked his chest and sent Etrigan skidding.
They traded blows too fast for mortal eyes.
Bellion's movements were precise, no wasted motion. Every attack he landed where it mattered. Etrigan felt it, pressure building, his guard eroding, each exchange tipping further against him.
And gods help him..
He loved it.
"Ahh, now this is war!" Etrigan roared, blood and fire spilling from his grin. "Shadowed knight, you earn my praise
But deals I make have final ways!"
With a sudden surge, Etrigan twisted inside Bellion's guard, claws blazing brighter than before. He raked upward.
Two of Bellion's wings were severed cleanly, shadow-feathers scattering like falling night.
John sucked in a breath. "Oh.."
Bellion didn't stagger.
He kicked.
The blow landed square in Etrigan's face with enough force to launch him through three ruined stone structures, they exploded outward as the demon vanished into the rubble.
Bellion stood still.
The severed wings dissolved into shadow and regrew, unfurling smoothly, flawlessly, as if the injury had never occurred.
Arthur smiled faintly.
"I think," he said calmly, "he'll figure it out now."
John blinked. "Figure out what?"
Arthur didn't look away from the battlefield. "That he got tricked."
John frowned. "By who?"
"Me."
Arthur's violet eyes glowed softly. "This fight is something he can't win. I told Bellion to fight him on equal terms, Bellion is far stronger but even if he were weaker, even if I put my weakest shadow soldier against him he will not be able to defeat it, Ignorance and pride will cost him his freedom. This is because he doesn't understand my powers, if he had prior knowledge about my shadows at least he wouldn't accept that deal, because my shadows will not die unless I..."
John's expression shifted slowly, understanding dawning on him.
"…Unless you die."
Arthur inclined his head. "Which isn't happening."
Silence.
Then John let out a low, incredulous laugh. "Bloody hell… five minutes in Hell and you're already thinking like a demon. You sure you didn't spend time down here with the lads?"
Zatanna laughed despite herself. "That was smart, Arthur."
Arthur's smile didn't fade. "This realm is a realm of contracts. Tricks are a common thing in them, I was simply prepared."
He turned away. "We should leave. Let them battle."
Kara glanced back at the smoking ruins. "He really doesn't have a choice, does he?"
"No," Arthur replied evenly. "He will yield. Or he will die."
Kara shook her head. "What a poor fellow."
They vanished into shadow, the barrier dissolving as if it had never existed.
Etrigan clawed his way out of the rubble, chest heaving, eyes burning with fury.
Confusion.
"That shadow…" he muttered. "No pain. No wear. I cut his wings.. and he does not heal as we do."
He looked around.
The others were gone.
His eyes narrowed.
"…Gone?"
His rage didn't settle, and realization followed a moment later.
The contract burned against his soul.
"Oh, you scheming bastard…" Etrigan snarled.
He turned back toward Bellion, fire roaring higher than before.
"Enough riddles.. enough deceit!
I'll burn you down, or die in defeat!"
"Foolish Demon, you had no chance from the start." Bellion said calmly.
He raised his blade.
And stepped forward.
****
A castle stood intact against the infernal horizon, its towers sharp, banners of dark crimson hanging moving in the wind.
John Constantine staggered half a step as the teleport completed, smoke already between his fingers.
"Right," he muttered. "Still hate doing that."
Kara hovered instinctively, eyes narrowing as she took in the structure. "That place looks… organized," she said, as if the word itself felt wrong in Hell. "Compared to everything else we've seen."
Zatanna nodded slowly. "There is old magic here. Very old."
Arthur stood at the front, boots planted in ash that hadn't been disturbed in centuries. His eyes ignited, violet light bleeding into the cracks of his irises.
"One of the presences I sensed is inside," he said calmly. Then, after a moment, "Actually... three."
John exhaled smoke through his nose. "Correct. this castle belongs to the Triumvirate." His tone hardened. "Belial. Beelzebub. And the First of the Fallen. I brought you here because the old bastard here can be talked to unlike Neron."
Kara turned sharply. "Etrigan mentioned them, but who is this first of the fallen, seems like a big deal."
"Satan," Arthur finished, voice flat.
John gave a humorless chuckle. "Yeah. That Satan. Not Lucifer, different bastard entirely. These three keep Hell… balanced. Or as close to it as you can get, though no more it seems."
Arthur's gaze never left the castle. "Then it would be logical to ask where they stand in all this."
"That's what I was thinking," John said, already starting toward the gates. "Figure out who's scheming, who's panicking, and who's sharpening knives behind our backs."
He made it three steps before Arthur's hand snapped out.
firmly.
Arthur caught Kara's wrist first, then extended his other arm, palm open toward John.
"Wait."
Kara turned to him, confused but she didn't pull away. She saw his expression. The calm wasn't gone, but Arthur was serious for a moment.
John stopped. Slowly turned.
Arthur tilted his head slightly. "Which one of them owns your soul, John?"
John's eyes widened a fraction before he looked away, jaw tightening. For a moment, the ever-present sarcasm drained out of him, leaving only a tired man standing in Hell with debts written into his bones.
Zatanna blinked. "John… you are silent... does that mean what he is saying is correct?"
Arthur crossed his arms, shadows curling lazily around his shoulders. "You don't have to answer," he said evenly. "If there's a binding in place, you physically can't. I'm already sure of that. Lucifer made that very clear to me with his last comment."
John let out a long sigh and rubbed his face. "Nothing gets past you anymore, does it?" He glanced back up, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion. "Lord of Shadows."
Kara bristled at the title, but Arthur didn't react.
"My goal hasn't changed," John continued. "I want to keep Hell from spilling into Earth. That's it. No grand throne, no bloody coronation. Just damage control." He gestured vaguely at the castle. "I didn't call the Justice League. Didn't call the bloody Spectre. I called you."
Zatanna frowned.
John looked at Arthur again. "Because only someone like him can make this place listen. Demons don't understand mercy. They don't understand justice. They understand power." A bitter smile tugged at his lips. "Lucifer understood that better than anyone."
Arthur studied him for a long moment. Then he nodded once.
"I will prevent them from infecting Earth, and I will help you," Arthur said. "You have my word, but the whole crown thing doesn't actually interest me at all."
John released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Before anyone could say more, pressure rolled outward from the castle like a slow tide. The ground vibrated beneath their feet. Ancient mechanisms groaned, magical, older than spells that needed incantations.
The massive gates creaked open on their own.
Kara squared her shoulders. "Seems like we're expected."
"How polite," John muttered. "No invitation card, though."
Arthur's violet gaze sharpened "Come on," he said calmly. "Let's meet the Triumvirate."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I'm very interested in what they have to say."
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want