Volohs looked at the giant portal that Azera had summoned. This was it, the moment his legend would spread throughout the lands, on poems, bard tales and songs, this was it. He was destined to marched through Hell, and slay Oxroses, he would will himself to Godhood if needs be. The woman gave all her energy into the portal, other wizards lending her their magical energy. Her eyes glowed with an unworldly color, magic swirling around her body and hands.

The Ommart army traveled behind Volohs, ready to back him up. Volohs entered the portal, as his men followed behind. Instantly, as they entered, imps attacked them, Volohs hitting them with his hammer, as if swatting flies. They were lesser than an average man, and in his exalted state, Volohs was stronger than even a legion of Ommart. Demon blood flew around their armor as the portal slowly faded behind them. Their only way of return would be their victory of the God of destruction.

The men looked on, the steady stream of demons, devils and fiends pouring into their ranks. The Ommart tried to fight back, but surprisingly didn't fare as well as Volohs thought they would. The battle raged for hours, screams heard from both demon and Ommart, or tortured souls. The screaming was to never cease, it even began to pull at Volohs's soul. The tormented souls seemed to act as a weight pulling not only Volohs down, but his Ommart soldiers.

After hours of fight, they had begun to make a path way through the hostile fiends. It was hard to tell how long they had been fighting for, the dark black sky masking most light seen. It was almost as if entering a void. Volohs started to breath heavily, as he looked around at the now calm mounds of dead bodies, he had lost a good sum of his forces already, and they had made little progress. Rock spires with jagged edges formed from the ground, with a musky stench of heat nearly choking a man. The poisons gasses in this realm where strong enough to affect the Ommart negatively, but not quite enough to kill them. Volohs could barely see in the darkness, the almost black, but still red stone below his feet, was ice cold and relentless. The deathly air was making it hard for the almighty man to breath, and he was practically immortal. He had come a far from being a prince under his dead father's control.

"Light a torch." Volohs commanded impatiently.

The Ommart around him spared no waste of time to perform this action. There were at least twelve torches within the first minute of the command. Volohs was glad to have some competence around him, these killers were much better than the legion of men he had trained. He had spent years trying to make the greatest army known to man, and now he had an army that could march along-side him through Hell.

Not even Helm could make such a great force. They continued through the agony of Hell, the anguish and pain of both demon and souls waxed against their endurance. It was as to press a hot coal against one's lips holding it there with nothing but your hand. Even the Ommart began to grumble and complain from this evil place. Holding their hands over their ears when the chance was given, though they were admittedly brief; Volohs felt as if this would last forever. It was no wonder the demons wanted so badly to leave this realm. They was no sign of life, nothing grew, no, not a thing, as if the ground had been salted. It was now understood why the demons would eat each other, and anything they could get their hands on, they were starved. Volohs wondered how anything, demon or devil, could grow in such an environment, how could they even think to have offspring, or compromise to do such.

He thought that his world had gone astray, neglecting their old gods, but still whispering their names with their lips. Helm, Dechoneus, even Inger, they all blasphemed, with one hand they would give, and the other steel from their gods. Now, Volohs was painted a villain for his zeal. Yet, no man had the courage to do what it took, to march through Hell. He was alone; he was going to be the one to fulfill prophecy, regardless of what it would take.

The demon grinned, a pride demon, or also known as a pit fiend, he had grey scales and skin. He had two arms, no wings, and horns jetting out from the back of his head. He carried a sword, big when compared to a normal soldiers sword, but just right to wield with one hand. His name was Aliester, He watched with patience as Volohs grew closer. He could see miles off, into this darkness, the torchlight betraying their position to other demons. With his free hand, he held the leash of a Hell Bear. Bears with quills on their back that spewed out acid from their mouths; Aliester simply watched his pet as it grumbled and roared.

"Not yet boy." The demon mumbled.

Oxroses walked beside the demon, his long grey hair falling behind his back, black tattoos covering his naked torso, and pale skin. His red eyes had a soft glow, with black paintings around the sockets. He had jagged canines, and a solid jaw. His toned body was lean, as he looked at Aliester.

"You and Asmodeus still pay your loyalties to me? Yes?" Oxroses asked.

"Of course, my lord," A sinister voice said, walking towards Oxroses.

"Asmodeus, you arrive just in time, we have mortal visitors. Little do they know they hold the key to opening the gate way."

"They are foolish, what else can you expect?" Aliester chuckled.

"I'm not sure who is worse, the man, or the blind sheep." Asmodeus said sinisterly.

"Ah, this is why you are my favorite Asmodeus." Oxroses smiled.

Aliester looked away silently growling to himself, envying Asmodeus. He wished that the mortal would come to them quickly, so he could squash him, to prove his greater worth. The bug would be his to stomp. Asmodeus much rather avoid problems, while Aliester would confront them. Perhaps their different nature was why Aliester was always chosen as the second.

Volohs could hear the demons storming up the mountains; he had been fighting for what seemed like days, as he climbed down these knolls. He was not willing to give in, or give up, he continued to press forward as him and his legion plowed their way through the hordes of demons. They were surprised to find one of their worst fears yet, the four armed demon, or the Man Eater. The hundreds of Man Eaters looked over smiling when the spouted their meal. Within the seconds the charged forward, massacring the tired Ommart ranks. Volohs, the half god, fought with the ferocity of a dragon, smashing his mace into their faces, their blood spilt on his edge. Limbs were torn, bodies swallowed whole. Volohs shattered limbs, and broke necks. As the demons slammed their fist, and claws against him, Volohs struggled for victory. They bit into his armor taking chunks of it for their lunch. It was said, that these intelligent creatures would, if properly fed, reason, but it was near impossible to quench their hunger, for flesh. They would fight and even eat each other, on occasion. They were the nastiest of all demons, resembling the lot of their kind. The Man Eaters were nothing a mortal would wish to encounter, having the strength of ten to twenty men.

Volohs swung his mace for the last time, as it broke upon another demons head. Shattering its horn and skull, the head of the mace slammed against Hell's surface. Volohs then began to fight with his fist, slamming his metal gauntlet and hand through their mouths, chest, and face. He grabbed one arm of his opponent, slamming his fist through its abdomen. Volohs began to block and counter their attacks with nothing but his two fists, using his unhuman strength to punch holes through their bodies, and tare their arms off.

Volohs fell to his knees, looking over their dead corpses. He had killed too many to keep track, as he watch the remains of his army lie beside his fiendish enemies. He took in a deep breath, trying to restore some stamina, but only the toxin of Hell entered his lunges, giving him no break. He choked on his own breathes now; even his empowered mortal form was growing weary.

He slowly got back up to his feet, grabbing a sword from the dead corpses; they were all weak, and already rusting from the blood of their enemies. Volohs knew their march had taken at least twelve hours, if the blade were beginning to rust. He swung the sword, flicking the blood off the blade. He approached the edge of the ledge he now stood, seeing miles yet he still needed to traverse. Marching alone for twelve hours would make any soul weary, let along fighting for every inch. His armor was covered in red, stained, never to shimmer with the suns glow, even if polished and cleaned.

He began walking down the ledge and mount he now stood, continuing his decent. The screams of the unfortunate began to weigh on him more heavily, was there no end to this pitiless abyss? Volohs only wished there was an end in sight, but the god he now wished to slay, was, indeed to be killed by a rusted blade. He laughed to himself, in distress, how grave a mistake he had made. He came through with a legion of ten thousand Ommart, and now they all lied dead, rotting in Hell. He took in another deep breath as Aliester stood before him. The demon was twelve feet tall, no small runt to say the least. He toward over the kneeling man, grinning with folded arms.

Volohs got back to his feet getting ready to throw a punch when the demon spoke up.

"Why do you travel so far, yet to fail?" Aliester questioned.

"I will never fail, even if I must slay you." Volohs replied, "I cannot fall to such scum as you!"

"Ah, how amusing, you find me to be scum? I'm stronger than you could ever know." Aliester replied, catching Volohs's punch.

"I'm not as weak as you make me out!" Volohs replied, upper-cutting the demon.

Aliester fell back, rubbing his chin. Grinning, with angered brows, the fiend swiftly slammed his fist into the man's torso. He watched the small figure fly back as Aliester walked forward, relentlessly.

"Can't you see? Who's the real god here? Is not Oxroses stronger than your petty Claydrin?" Aliester yelled in anger.

Volohs struggled to his feet, he wouldn't lose to this demon, no, not even if he died.

"I'm not finished yet!" Volohs yelled back, slamming his rusted blade into the demon's chest. Aliester recoiled in pain, as rage filled his eyes. He drew his own blade slamming its edge into Volohs. The man caught the blade with his torso, his breast plate taking the blunt of the damage; blood was now dripping from his abdomen.

"Interesting, that would have cut most men in half! You do have some magical energy about you." Aliester said, slamming his sword into the ground, "I suppose you have potential."

Volohs was on his hands and knees, his left arm covering his stomach. He gritted his teeth, as blood dripped from his mouth and torso.

"Potential, what do you mean potential?" Volohs replied through his blood filled mouth, he had bit a peace of his tongue off.

"I can give you a piece of my power, if I do this, I will be your master, however, in return, you will kill Oxroses, and Asmodeus. You will have your dream, and I will be the ruler of Hell."

"I don't make deals with devils." Volohs replied.

"Rethink your answer. You have no choice, I will kill you, or you will aid me to power." Aliester replied.

Volohs would not risk his fall; he would gather the kingdoms into the Helmish Empire, even if he had to make a deal with the devil.

"Very well, I will accept your offer." Volohs replied.

"Wise, very wise," Aliester smiled, cutting his hand on his sword, "drink my blood."

Volohs looked at him with distrustful eyes. He cringed at the thought.

"Son of man, make your decision, before my wound heals. You have seconds." Aliester smiled.

Volohs slowly placed his head under the dripping blood, opening his mouth to the foul taste of demon blood. He could feel the heavy air disperse, as his eyes could see clearly through the darkness of Hell. He had been given demonic powers, the powers of evil. He believed his decision justified, it was, after all, Claydrin's will.

"Ah, you have grown stronger already; the poison in the air alone has relieved you of a burden. Tell me, can you actually breathe?" Aliester smiled.

"Indeed, I can breathe." Volohs replied.

"Good, now go kill Oxroses, and my brother Asmodeus." Aliester grinned.

Volohs could feel his blood boil within in him, but it was rejuvenating, it was as if he was stronger than before, physically and faster to. He could see that which he couldn't see before, hear better than a bat, and smell things as far off as a blood hound.

"Come, I must bring you to my lord."

Volohs followed the demon, all the other devils of hell now leaving him be; he was unsure if it was the demon blood he had drank, or the fact that Aliester guided him through the realm. Slowly the approached the great gates, a castle the king of Hell would retire to. Aliester stopped at the gate, looking at Volohs.

"You will need a weapon fit for an assassin."

Volohs nodded, not willing to risk his life in the face of this demon. He watched with amazement as Aliester called a demon forth, pulling the horn from its head, and forging it into a dagger in front of Voloh's very eyes. It was fine craftsmanship, the blade black, and the handle had red highlights with a brown leather handle. The pommel was jagged, and was almost as if a weapon of its own.

"This would out to do." Aliester grinned handing the knife to his assassin.

"I suppose it will have to." Volohs replied.

"You ungrateful swine," Aliester yelled, "This is the finest of my many works, that I would ever present to a mortal!"

"My apologies," Volohs replied bitterly.

"We walk through that gate, kill Oxroses; do not leave him standing."

"Yes."

The gate swung open as Oxroses spoke to Aliester, "Ah, my servant, did you know the gods are attempting to enter my realm? It takes a great deal from me, to hold them back. And I see you brought the key?"

"Indeed, my first thoughts were to kill this mortal, but he proved rather resilient, that is, resilient enough to be our gate way to Lumesc." Aliester replied.

"You said nothing of being a key!" Volohs replied angrily.

"Quiet worm, you have no right to speak!" Asmodeus replied with authority.

Volohs glared at him with anger, as if to challenge him. Aliester walked towards Asmodeus, placing his hand on him, to hold him back from doing something rash. Oxroses turned his back for a second, and to his demise. Even the greatest of gods had been bested by a mere mortal, and holding the Amulet of Halv no less. The dagger sunk deep into his back strait into his heart as he felt his life force be drained from him. There was only one way to truly kill a god, and that was to absorb their souls, a task Volohs had just completed, he felt the power fill his body. He was more than any one soul could even imagine. He was a god.

Aliester looked off in awe; no mortal could kill a god, let alone absorb their power. Asmodeus wasn't far off in the same reaction, but more shock was yet to strike the demons. A portal opened as the Gods of Zelstine walked through the rift. Cladius stood at the right had of Claydrin as the Time God frowned.

"Is it not the Knight of Helm?" Volohs smiled with amusement.

"What have you done?" Claydrin spoke softly, yet with authority.

"I have done all this for you! So I could ascend to godhood and unit the four kingdoms into the Helmish Empire. Was this not your will?" Volohs replied arms outstretched.

Cladius stepped forward, "You are a miss guided man. A zealous man with a dream, you thought so sure of your absolute rule you didn't stop to ask yourself if there was another to play that role."

"It all make sense now, why every battle you were at you won, you are him aren't you. You are the Sun God. What is your name?" Volohs replied dropping to his knees.

"I'm Cladius, knight of Helm, child of Claydrin, and Arrivail. This is not to speak of my mortal heritage."

"You mean to say we are, brothers?" Volohs questioned, "I never knew you."

"Rise Volohs, flea from your faults," Cladius replied.

Volohs rose to his feet, his mouth twisting with anger, "Tell me the answer to my question, Sun God!"

"Why are you yet filled with rage?" Cladius replied, hand on his blade.

"You have taken everything from me, my legacy, my throne, even my place with the gods."

"You speak with much rashness, your thoughts and words impulsive." Aliester replied, his sword readied in hand, "It be best you gods leave."

"Silence," Claydrin replied, snapping his fingers, the demon losing its voice.

"I will not bow!" Volohs replied.

Cladius drew his sword slamming the blade into the newborn god. With easy, Volohs deflected the blow, smashing his fist into the Sun God. Cladius went flying back as the rest engaged in battle. He was stronger than they had thought, sending a small shock wave knocking the back. Only Claydrin stood there resisting the force of Volohs's blast. He watched the god vanish before his eyes. Claydrin starred back at Cladius as he spoke.

"This is your fight my son, it appears we have run out of time for training."

Havlier leaned to one knee, helping the god up to his feet. Cladius hadn't even yet collected all his strength, and he was expected to kill a god, equal to his father's own strength.

"How am I to perform such a feet?" Cladius replied, taking Havlier's hand.

"Come, let us not discuss such topics in front of rats." Claydrin replied, walking through another rift he had formed.

Asmodeus tried leaping through at the last moment, only to be rejected, blasted back with magic, it appeared even Hell's knew king didn't desire to waste away there.