Five hundred years before the events that would set in motion an irreversible change over Mandusus, the Realm of Man, a lone human stands on a bridge granting passage to an abandoned citadel. The citadel was from a different time, made entirely of magically reinforced stone, meant to keep even a dragon's breath at bay. However, the disrepair the fortress was currently in would keep anyone from ever knowing how strong its foundations were. The flags of the kingdom were tattered and torn, to the point that the kingdom's crest was no longer visible, and the ribbons that remained blew with the breeze as if they weighed nothing. The moat surrounding the stone base was so large and cavernous that even giants wouldn't be able to climb out of it, and yet now this building is a large eyesore, torn asunder by the monsters that now lurk within.
The sun overhead was quickly covered with swirling clouds as the man on the bridge began approaching the remnants of a fortress before him. The man's dark cloak covered his face, his jacket underneath barely visible. A sheath rested on his back, an irregularity in this world of magic. The sheath held a shortsword, the handle and guard being of exquisite quality, unlike anything the man walking along the bridge was carrying. His clothes were well-worn, his boots muddy, dark sludge over his sheath and cloak, as if he had been in combat recently. His steps were slow, and the only other sound was the wind.
With every step, the magic in the air continued to thicken, as if the citadel itself was a focal point for all of the magic an entire army could manage. Yet even with the magic feeling more irregular, powerful, and dangerous, the single man walked forward without even the slightest hint of fear. There was no hesitation in his strides, no beads of sweat beginning to form; he simply walked, devoid of any sign of emotion.
As the man reached the end of the bridge, he raised his left hand and outstretched it towards the citadel. The man then spoke, uttering but a single word that shook the very wind surrounding him and the entire fortress.
"Burn." As soon as the word left the man's lips, a small mote of flames lit in his outstretched hand, beginning as a small orange flame, progressively getting hotter, from orange, to white, to finally, blue. The change in colors happened in fractions of a second, and the exact moment the flame began in his hand changed to blue, an explosion erupted from his palm. The blue flames completely engulfed the entirety of the fortress, in such a display of magic, the weather began to change, with the sky going completely dark from ominous and swirling clouds overhead.
Rain began to pour from above, as lightning and thunder began, the sheer mana expelled from the one spell was felt from miles away. As the spell dissipated and the flames cleared, the ground where the citadel stood was completely gone, albeit for the smoldering ground it once stood upon. As the man lowers his left hand, he begins to reach for his sword with his right, wrapping his hand around the grip, just as seven bodies begin to reform in the now burnt remains of the once towering structure.
The bodies forming do so out of a black sludge, one so devoid of color it feels as if they draw any light near them into an endless void. Rather quickly, the bodies refor,m revealing seven figures, all rather different and yet similar. Their skins all grey, eyes dark, and all wearing expressions that would send shivers down the common folk's spine.
The most muscular of them turned his neck to the side, cracking it. This one was a hulking brute, and with an evil grin, he raised his hand to create a greatsword from the same dark sludge he reformed from that seemingly materialized from nowhere. The sword was brutal in design, almost as if it wasn't meant to be clean and modest, but the exact opposite. The blade was sharp and jagged on both sides, its blade easily six feet in length and another two in width before it came to its point. It was then that the brutish figure spoke.
"I can sense it. Your pride! Your hubris! Just like the rest of your kind, you reek of it, and just like all the rest-" Before the brute got the chance to finish his sentence, the cloaked man drew his sword and before any of the figures could see him move, the brutish man's head was severed and the cloaked man stood behind where the brute once was. The clocked man was now surrounded by an armor of blue flames, with flaming wings, in the shape of a phoenix. The sword in his hand was seemingly half white and half black, no matter which angle the light hit it, or the flickering of the flames surrounding the cloaked man. As the brute attempts to turn, he starts melting away into black sludge, and as the sludge falls apart, it begins to turn to ash and blow away in the wind.
Without another word, the cloaked man surrounded by flames seemingly vanishes and reappears three separate times, slicing the thinnest of the figures in half; the grotesquely rotund figure, with its body fat seemingly making it difficult for the figure to move or breathe, was left bisected from a vertical slash. The last figure slain in an instant was seemingly demi-human, its hands thin and bony, yet quite long, its face distorted and teeth sharp, with a hunched back from the weight of what looked to be a large back melded with its skin. All three figures quickly melted and turned to ash the same way their brutish partner had.
The next figure moved as fast as they seemingly could, transforming themself into an identical clone of the cloaked man, a copy of his flaming armor and wings, everything down to the cloaked man's sheath, besides the sword. The clone outstretched his hand and attempted to use the magical flames to blast the cloaked man, but just as the clone's hands raised, they were sliced clean off by the cloaked man before the clone ever saw him move. Then, as quickly as the clone's hands were severed, he was cut into dozens of pieces and fell to ash. The thunder and rain begin to worsen over the now-battlefield, dousing the arena.
The next figure to move was another large and muscular figure, but its head was a skull, flaming with a dark purple aura, and the horns of a ram protruding from the sides. The figure had flaming marks all over its body, most of them coming to a stop in large curls and symbols not from the realm of Mandusus. The flaming skull figure launched itself forward, summoning a two-handed heavy club, more comparable to a warhammer with spikes.
"You're blinded by RAGE!" The beast shouts, his voice echoing and raspy, bringing his hammer down as the cloaked man, draped in flames, turns and blocks overhead with the blunt side of his sword. The force is so tremendous that the ground beneath the man surrounded in blue fire crumbles, and he's forced down onto a single knee, the ground beneath him being pushed back into the earth underneath.
"You slay us and yet you're no better!" The beast pushes his hammer down with as much strength as possible, breaking the ground beneath the cloaked man. "You use your loss as an excuse! You're just as angry, just as wrathful as any of your kind! You are no better than any one of your kind!" The beast raises his hammer and brings it down quickly, trying to knock the sword out of the cloaked man's hands. The beast keeps the pressure and slams his hammer down as fast as possible.
As the cloaked man is pinned by the onslaught of hammer strikes to his blade, two chains manifest from the last figure and launch towards the pair, wrapping around the wrists of the cloaked man and pulling them back. Even with all of this, the cloaked man still holds the sword of even light and dark metal above his head, withstanding hit after hit from the beast, and not letting the chains from the last figure pull his wrists away.
"I can feel it! Your rage is building! Come on! Use it! Let it take over!" The beast shouts excitedly, raising his hammer and swinging it towards the cloaked man's side, striking him in the ribs and launching him across the arena. The chains on the man's wrists are granted slack for a mere moment before becoming tense once again and swinging the man's body across the ground in a semicircle, before they release and launch him to the edge of the makeshift arena.
"You have to admit, his will is quite impressive," A sultry female voice that would put the most anxious of hearts at ease sounds out from the last figure. "I highly doubt that you'll ever take control of him before breaking his will down to nothing. But how, oh how could we do that?" The sultry voice coos, seemingly lightheartedly.
"Maybe I should finish that girl he was with last time. I bet that would set him over the edge-" Before the beast could finish his words, the cloaked man appeared behind him, causing the beast's back to tense, and his back to shudder. The beast could realize, without sight, even without the ability to sense magic, he knew... he was dead.
The cloaked man's flaming armor grew into a raging inferno instead of just a set of armor of dancing flames. The entire area felt surrounded by his mana. Without a word, the man snaps his fingers, and the whole area erupts into blue flames once again. The flames and smoke dissipate after a few seconds, and when the smoke clears, both figures begin regenerating themselves once again, and as soon as the head of the beast forms, the cloaked man runs him through with the blade of perfectly even metal.
"Leave with this," The cloaked man begins, staring into wear the beast should have eyes, "When you return, if you threaten her life, I will hunt you down, in any realm that you reside. Every version of you, from every timeline, from every reality, I will burn you out of all of them." The cloaked man then draws his sword, and the beast fades into sludge and ash as the others before him had.
"Well, I suppose it can't be helped." The sultry, feminine voice sounds out once again as she reforms. "So... you done with your little tantrum, Aquivis?" The grey-skinned woman asks. Her hair was long and straight, a rather beautiful black hair. The woman was rather attractive by conventional means, especially when it comparison to her partners. It wouldn't be a stretch to say she was the most stunning woman ever seen in the realm of man. She wore a black dress and heels, which was odd given the combative nature she and her partners awaited.
"Pride, Sloth, Gluttony, Greed, Envy, Wrath, and you... Lust..." Aquivis, the cloaked man, speaks slowly, deliberately, as if he has a limited amount of words left to speak. He then dispels his flaming armor, "You all draw power from elsewhere and use it to try and destroy this realm. I've told you once, and once again I'll tell you, I will protect this world. I don't know why this burden falls upon me, but I don't have time to care. I will defend those who cannot defend themselves until I expire, even if that day never comes. Every time you appear, in every heart you try to manifest, I will stop you. That is my sole mission, the reason I was born, the reason this blade chose me. No matter how many times you come back, no matter how much stronger all of you become, I will be stronger. Even if this battle never ends, that is the vow I make on this day. I am Aquivis, Bulwark of Mandusus, and I will be your end."
The embodiment of Lust begins to slow clap after Aquivis finishes speaking. "Wow, I'm just so inspired," She starts sarcastically, mocking Aquivis, "In the name of Drelgrath, all of you are so dramatic." She rolls her eyes and begins walking towards Aquivis, "So I suppose you're going to kill me as you did my siblings, no surprise there, but I'm curious. Do you truly think so little of everything here, or do you wish to ignore the truth? You can tell we're not from whatever you call this realm, and that we keep returning, no matter how many times it takes. That sword you carry is the only weapon that can keep us from regenerating, and it takes another five hundred years for us to return. Yet all you think is that you're the defender of this realm? The 'Bulwark of Mandusus' as you put it?" Lust uses air quotes as she comments on Aquivis' title. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway, but just know we'll be back, and we'll be even stronger." Lust walks in front of Aquivis and brushes her hand across his chest, finally getting a look at his face under the cloak. "You look exactly like him, I suppose that shouldn't be a surprise, but... It's like looking at a ghost."
"Who are you talking about?" Aquivis asks, irritated, scowling at Lust's hand and grabbing her wrist, tossing it back at her.
"Doesn't matter now, just use your sword and finish me already, I know I can't beat you... Yet," Lust winks and smiles warmly, but somehow it feels hollow at the same time.
Aquivis raises his shortsword and slashes the embodiment of lust across the chest, turning her into sludge and ash. Aquivis closes his eyes as the rain continues falling, before summoning his Phoenix Armor and spreading his wings, flying off.