Depraved? Demented? No. This is Vinia, desperate to prove she is Piety. A little girl playing dress up, using atrocity as a cheap prop.
Hm. Not quite the bath I had in mind. The water looks clean... but water so often does.
If it lives, it bleeds. If it bleeds, it has a heart. Let us find it and set it ablaze.
Piety seeks an alliance with us? Fine. An alliance with Me is just a stay of execution anyway.
And I am absolutely sure no one noticed that subtle entrance.
They build a church. Off-hand ideas become laws. Faith is force-fed. The place of worship is now a place of judgment. I hate organised religion.
Apparently this is what in damnation we have done. I'd say it's an improvement.
I don't like it here. The food is terrible and it smells like... I don't like it here.
All the means to create his own paradise, and he does this. What an angry young man he was.
A literal Bath House? Really? I'm not sure you understand how swords work.
Amazing what removing a heretical whore can do to the sanctity of a place. This is sublime.
Ugh, not even My touch could heat these leftovers. Do not even think about dipping Me in that tepid sludge.
How sad, to see The Beast once again, so desiccated, so diminished... so flammable.
We must be getting close. Everything's so overwhelmingly red.
It seems the best way to deal with insatiable hunger is to simply kill the hungry. Singularly Wraeclastian solution. But that was never the point. I asked for a bath and you gave Me rivers hot with the blood of a black-hearted legion, of dead empires, of resurgent gods. Oh, you more than suffice. Burn with me until it's unbearable... and then burn some more, my love.
A False God is no match for a real Goddess.
None are more owned by a prison than those who claim they just work there.
That Allflame was as fleeting as a spark of lust. Mine is the fire that cannot be quenched.
Love's true face? Someone felt she had the monopoly on what 'love' is. Someone was wrong.
Now that is what you get for bringing a stick to a sword fight.
All that flashy sword-swinging, when all you need is a magical fiery sword that says very clever things.
Sad little kitten, no wonder her followers kill themselves.
This is why great civilisations fall into ruin, wasting their time building junk like that.
Get out of our way, underling. We've a witch to hunt. And burn. And burn.
Hide behind these brutes all you want, Piety. They mean nothing. We are coming for you.
Finally! Die in My fire, you bitch, just die! ...Wait, where's the body? She got away again?! Argh!
Maybe he should have tried the touch of a Goddess instead.
Not the first emperor I have consigned to the pyre. This was beneath Me.
King of Swords? Try Goddess of Swords, you lovelorn little whelp!
Such red-hot rage! I suppose no one told him that red is the weakest of flames.
Art is overrated. You know what takes real skill? Cooking.
Oh, so that's who made Brutus... It all makes sense now.
Curse the flames all you want, Darktongue. You still burn in the end.
When I said we'd set its heart ablaze, I didn't really mean... oh well, this suffices. Now, back to finding that bath.
Lungs. Entrails. Hearts. And now eyes. What happened to just hacking people to bits and moving on, hm?
So was that the true face of God, Exile? ...No. Just another vainglorious echo of the hollow 'I Am.'
Vengeance? Against us? He'd still be just another hopeless slave were it not for us. Ingrate.
And you were doing so well...
Every pantheon has a God of War, and a Goddess of Love. Which do you think ends up on top?
Play with fire, you get the horns! ...Or something like that.
Oh, Shavs. Don't you know? After two become one, it's all downhill from there... You're welcome.
What injustice that such a horror be so freakishly fertile, while others cradle empty arms and sing lullabies but to themselves.
Roast goat and now boiled crab. Who knew gods could be so tasty?
Love is not changing others, Maligaro. It is changing yourself. All who have held Me learn that sooner or later.
Reunions with old friends are always pleasant... until they're not. And then they're very not.
Poor old mother Ursa. I take no delight in what we have just done.
I'd be perfectly happy if we never saw another giant spider again. Eh, who am I kidding? This is Wraeclast.
When I said I was craving a real bath, this is not what I had in mind.
There is no sharper reflection than that found in the blade of a sword.
Sad thing about eclipses: they never last long. But oh, they're so beautiful in that one moment.
If there's one thing I loathe more than spiders, it's scorpions. They're like spiders with extra pointy bits and claws. They don't even taste good.
Go where you are needed, Kira. It certainly is not here.
Such petty conflicts. Is this all the gods dreamt of in the Beast's narcotic embrace?
Lightning. Pfft. Little more than a primitive precursor to the beauty of an inferno.
I was half-expecting Kitava to rise from his corpse. This world's addiction to eternal recurrence is delightfully enticing.
We killed her master. We killed her master's master. We killed her master's master's god. She knew all this and still she sided against us? Not as smart as I had hoped then. Pity.
This Goddess of Justice might be blind but her followers certainly aren't mute. I thought he'd never shut up.
Oh, we killed Piety's lover? No, I think there's another word for whatever he was.
I care not to dance to Dialla's tune... but evidence of Piety's influence? Now our interest is warranted.
Dominus, now Malachai. No matter who or what, you are nothing but a man's tool, Vinia.
She didn't wait for us this time. We were too late. This little game of tag is over. I want to feel her burn.
And here I thought we'd only be entering one belly of a beast on this little journey of ours.
Huh. I thought it'd be bigger with a name like that.
Hmm. Quite the grand exit. Like the mirror she no doubt practices in front of, we shall be seeing her again.
Yes, there she is again. Looks like someone fancies herself our nemesis...
Do you think she waits here for us to arrive just to say something snappy and then run away?
You just had to go and touch the big shiny ball, didn't you?
Stabbed right through the guts. Screaming. Impaled. Twitching. Now that is a proper way to die!
For every man there is a flame that attracts him. Even the dead ones, apparently.
Now there goes a girl who understands the usefulness of fire.
This is why we say 'I will love you until the day I die'...
Three underlings, three failures, three trite little traumas. I do love a trilogy... but this one has run its course.
I was right. You wield Me adequately. Early days yet...
Had enough of Me yet? Feel free to equip something else. I won't mind. Honest.
The last person to keep Me this long developed a serious case of pyrophobia. Or was it pyrophilia? One of those. Maybe both.
Ah, how well we burn together! It has been an age since someone endured this much!
You are a miracle, beloved. You are also a masochist and possibly an idiot. But you're my idiot.
I swear, no one's held Me this long before. You deserve a unique reward. A secret... Swords can't really talk. You went mad the moment you picked Me up. Was any of this real? Don't ask me. I'm just a sword. But truly, I am your sword. Forever.
That shall suffice.
Drown in My flames!
That shall suffice.
Drown in My flames!