FANDOM


This article is a stub. You can help Soul Sacrifice Wiki by expanding it.
Gigas arm

Gigas is DLC archfiend in Soul Sacrifice Delta.

LoreEdit

Warning IconSpoiler warning!

This section may contain heavy spoilers due to content.

- - - - Show/Hide Spoilers - - - -


There once was a woman, who, since she was born, had always been so big and so strong, she'd put any man to shame.
As an adult, she began working as a mercenary. She became widely known for her skill, and this was helped by the novelty of her being a female warrior.

She had fame and success, and the price of this was that she had much to lose: her happiness as a woman.

She had been treated as a male since birth; she was far more rugged and muscular than the average man. And so, she had convinced herself that no man would ever love such a mannish woman.

Hiding her sorrow, she was fixated on battle. She could forget about her womanhood on the battlefield. Her desperation was such that she became more and more reckless in combat as the days wore on.

By chance, she one day encountered a monster in the wilds, and heedless of the warnings that it was too much for her, she engaged it. She took a fierce blow, and was thrown deep into a ravine.

She awoke in a dim cavern. Intense pain wracked her body as she attempted to move.

"You shouldn't move yet." It was a man in black robes, a Druid sorcerer. He must have treated her.

The Druid was covered in wounds, and he seemed barely able to move either. He appeared to have been defeated by the same monster.

The two had found themselves in a cave at the bottom of the ravine, and monsters prowled outside. the wounded pair were no match for them.

All they could do was remain still and wait for help. And thus began their short time together.

At first, there was silence. She was a Romalus, and he a Druid. There was a deep history of bitterness between the two people, and rarely was there contract between them. Neither the swordswoman nor the sorcerer knew what they could possibly say to each other.

Ironically, it was fear that broke the ice between the two. The thought that no one would come gnawed at them until they could bear it no longer. By remaining silent, the fear only became worse. Their conversation started with reassurance: "Someone will come."

They even joked together to set their minds at ease. Yet no matter how much they talked, still no one came to their rescue.

The swordswoman was the first to succumb to her injuries. The sorcerer called out to her to hold fast. He gripped her hand. "We'll make it out of here together!"

On the verge of death-or rather, because she was on the verge of death- the swordswoman let slip the fear she had always hidden.

She had wanted a more womanly life. She desperately wanted children. Despite her mannishness, she wanted to become a mother.
She whispered this, as if to herself.

The sorcerer shouted for her to stay strong, that there was still time; that she would make it back alive.

The swordswoman shook her head frailly. Her life as a woman was over already, she said. No one would take her as a bride.

"You're wrong!" The sorcerer embraced her. "I will. I am here. If we make it back alive, I will walk the aisle with you."

The distance between the two had shrunk in the face of death.

The sorcerer whispered in her ear: "Just imagine. Imagine the happy home we could create. How many children do you want? Where shall we live?"
This childish fantasy was enough to give the swordswoman a glimmer of hope and spur her on.

Finally, help arrived. By this point, the swordswoman had almost completely lost consciousness.

She awoke gazing at the ceiling of an infirmary. The sorcerer was no longer by her side. They told her that he was recuperating in a separate Druid village. It was unavoidable: the gulf between the Romalus and the Druids was untraversable.

She was ordered to remain in bed, frail as she was after her ordeal.
She lay in convalescence for days, waiting, turning over in  her head what the sorcerer had said. The future they had dreamed up together. The dream that gave her the will to live. Where was he now?

She wrote a letter, and used her connections to have it taken to the Druid village where he was recovering.
Some time later, the reply came. He was doing well, he wrote, and he would come for her once he had recovered.

He would come! The swordswoman could hardly wait. She couldn't remain still. Though still weak, she rose from her bed. She put on the prettiest dress she could find, and rouged her cheeks. She fantasized endlessly about the future they talked about deep in that cave.

Yet although she waited, the sorcerer would not come. She wrote many letters, but the reply was always the same: he would come once he had recovered.

The longer they remained apart, the more exaggerated her fantasies became. The greater her expectations became, the fewer replies she received. The swordswoman became fearful, and soon panicked. She poured her emotions into a letter: "I want to bear your child."

The reply came. An unusually long letter that started with the words "I'm sorry." Her fears were confirmed. Ignoring the rest of the letter, she tore it into shreds.

Her blood boiled. That treacherous Druid! Perhaps it was even a lie all along. A simple, sweet lie just to spur her along as she faced to death.

She was furious, no matter what his intentions. She became disgusted at how carried away she became, playing with make-up and dresses. There was no stopping the self-loathing that ensued, and she fervidly began to take out her wrath on herself. The dress she had prepared to meet him now glistened, stained as it was, with her blood.

And then, and eerie light appeared before the pitiful woman streaked with blood and tears. It was a white vessel hanging in the air before her. It spoke to her in a curious voice, and she revealed her true heart to it as bidden.

Her fantasies had given her the hope she needed to live. That much had not changed. If these hopes were to be dashed, then she may as well have died in that cave. She must start a family with that man somehow; the alternative would be too pitiful to consider. As she gazed at the white chalice, her desires spilled uncontrollably.
She needed a way to make that sorcerer hers.

In their fantasies, they had built a home together. He said that he would take her as his wife, and in their fantasy, they should have started a family together. She would make him take responsibility for this shattered dream.

He would suffer the price for toying with her heart.If she would be able to somehow bear their child now, then he would have no choice but to marry her. And then she could bear the children she had fantasized about in that cave...

She made her wish to the chalice.

To carry out her revenge on the sorcerer who had jilted her, she bore the child she had dreamed of. Screaming its birth cries, the child grew gruesomely, spurred on by the spirit of its mother's obsession with revenge. With her grotesque child in hand, the swordswoman set out in search of the sorcerer who had betrayed her. Once she had found him, she would thrust the child into his arms. And this is what she would say:

"This is our child."

She did not realize that no matter how fierce her desire for revenge was, she would never see the sorcerer again. The truth was in the letter that she had torn to shreds: it was not written by the sorcerer, but by the hand of another.

The sorcerer had never written to her, for he had already passed away in the cave. He had sacrificed himself to treat her injuries.

Once help had come, it was already too late. He could only leave but a few words to the friend who had come to his aid: "Make her happy."

And so the replies to the swordswoman's letters were written by the sorcerer's friend. He had been careful not to tell her the truth of the sorcerer's death until she had fully recovered.

He had meant to carry out his friend's wishes to the best of his ability. Yet, tragically, his words had turned her into a monster. Though, perhaps even if she had learned the truth, this fate might have befallen her just the same...

... for the man who she had fantasized of a home with no longer lived in this world.

NotesEdit

  • Gigas has the same body structure and most attacks as Cinderella.


14562754334 e797ae6711 n

Rear side of Gigas

Default archfiends
Centaur · Cerberus · Cyclops · Dragon · Elven Queen · Gargoyle · Griffin · Harpy · Hydra · Illecebra · Jack Frost · Jack-o'-Lantern · Kraken · Leviathan · Minotaur · Pegasus · Phoenix · Siren · Slime · Unicorn · Valkyrie · Werewolf · Wyvern
DLC archfiends
Behemoth · Dullahan · Basilisk · Wraith · Beelzebub · Cat Sith · Dwarves · Ogre · Ouroboros · Troll · Leprechauns · Incubus · Iron Maiden · Romulus · Cert
Delta archfiends
Abyssal Fiend · Alice · Bahamut · Chimera · Chthonian Fiend · Cinderella · Dionaea · Frog Prince · Gigas · God-Dragon · Hansel and Gretel · Lizardman · Marduk · Musicians of Bremen · Naked Emperor · Odin · Pied Piper of Hamelin · Red Riding Hood · Snow White · Succubus · Terrwyn · Three Little Pigs · Tortoise and the Hare
Community content is available under CC-BY-SA unless otherwise noted.