Chapter 46
[Rex POV]
A few minutes earlier
The light that rose into the air seemed to come from a different direction than Meztili and Marcus went. And although I couldn’t sense the nature of the magic, it certainly looked ominous enough to belong to a necromancer outlaw.
If I were correct, it would be better for me to run in that direction instead of trying to catch up to the others.
However, the light pillar did not last long. I kept running in the same direction that it first appeared from, but a steep slope and jagged stones blocked my way.
With no alternatives, I tried following along the slope, hoping to stumble across an opening. But it turned out to be easier than expected.
Two creatures made from bone and built to resemble scorpions scurried past and into an obscured hole. They were carrying multiple large bundles, but from my position, I could not make out what they were. It wasn't important anyway, what mattered was that these things to be moving on someone’s orders. Whether it be the banshee or Meztili, either way, I would find what I was looking for.
Instead of rushing in blindly, I decided to wait outside. Those things looked fast, and those mock-stingers would be hard to avoid in a narrow passageway. It made more sense to fight in terrain that suited me.
So I waited, and my patience paid off.
The skeletal monsters re-emerged, and with them was an old woman who looked like she already had one foot in the grave.
She didn’t seem like she could move on her own anymore, given that she was relying on one of her creations to carry her. Still, a spellcaster should never be taken lightly.
If I had brought a bow along, I would try sniping her from cover.
Tiara’s ears perked up, and she seemed to be looking behind the newcomers. Carefully, I linked my senses to hers and heard the sounds of combat coming from the cavern, not too far from us.
It had to be Marcus and Meztili. In that case, I didn’t need to try fighting these three alone.
“Esmee Waters, I’m guessing?”
I walked out to block her way. She looked wary of my presence, despite her reputation.
That was good. All I needed was to buy time for the others, and if she overestimated my strength, then all the better for me.
“Move aside, boy.”
She spat at me, chunky black liquid flying out of her mouth.
“Not happening. I have to say, the Black Dael Banshee is not at all what I was expecting her to be. The other knights would laugh in my face if they heard I backed down from such a feeble old grandma.”
Her emaciated fingers tightened around the odd cane she held in her hands.
Was it a cane? It could have been a magic staff. If so, it wouldn’t matter if she were close to death and out of mana; she could still cast whatever spells were stored in there.
“You shouldn’t try to bluff your elders, child. I am familiar with the uniforms and bearing that are typical of knights. You lack both. You’re… a squire, at most.”
She grinned, revealing crooked yellow teeth that already appeared to be decaying.
“You’re in over your head. But I’ll make you a deal. Give me that thing you found, and I’ll pretend I never saw your face.”
Her eyes flicked towards the ogre’s horn I was holding.
“Found? No, I pulled this from that monster’s corpse myself.”
Her grin faltered, and she narrowed her eyes.
“Bullshit.”
“Is that how a lady should be talking?”
We remained in our positions, sizing one another up. We both expected a fight, but also wanted to avoid it if possible. Truth be told, even one of those monsters of hers would be tricky to deal with if their builds and speed were any indicator.
“You clearly don’t understand what it means to cross me. Do you think death will be the end of it? I’ll stuff your soul into a dying rat and have you experience death a thousand times over.”
“Hm. There are a lot of reasons that threat doesn’t scare me, the most obvious being that you can’t touch a soul after true death.”
I held back the temptation to laugh. That would likely lead to the start of combat. Instead, I would buy time by challenging her beliefs.
“...What would you know of it? I have seen the transition from life to death in countless circumstances. I have received the blessing of Nekrotica herself. She approves my vision.”
“She doesn’t give a damn about you.”
I retorted calmly.
“Trust me. She is no different from the others. She just gave you power because it benefited her, probably because you’ve made a reputation for yourself. The more you do your thing, the more people know her name and are influenced by her.”
“Do not dare to presu—Gah!”
She tried to yell back at me, but fell into a coughing fit instead. More of that black tar sprayed out from her throat.
“Don’t believe me, do you? Can’t blame you, I guess. Even if you survive to see tomorrow, you’ll never come to learn the truth.”
Esmee calmed herself and finally stopped coughing up her lungs.
But in that moment, I realised I wasn’t the only one stalling for time. With her own blood, she had drawn a spell circle onto her forehead.
“”
She pointed two fingers at me, and both our heads snapped back as if some invisible force had hit us.
My vision shifted violently as I saw glimpses of my life flashing past. The Soul Stream appeared and lingered far longer than the rest, and then I was back to normal.
I cautiously patted my body and head, looking for wounds or signs of something wrong. But it felt like I was totally fine.
Esmee, on the other hand, had fallen to the ground and was convulsing violently. Her two silent guardians stood still, possibly waiting for further orders.
Whatever that spell was, it must have backfired. Judging by the name it was probably meant to do something to my brain. If she had tried looking inside my mind like Lily had…
I gripped my axe and approached her body.
“Wh—wh—what is— where— I… wha…?”
She was mumbling incomprehensible gibberish while she seized before me. Her guards still hadn’t reacted to me, so I decided to end this cleanly.
But the moment I raised my axe, the skeletal guardians took action.
Recognising hostility aimed at their master, one lunged for me while the other shielded her body. In her mental state, she shouldn’t be able to concentrate on keeping her summons active, but these two still operated on their previous orders. They must have some kind of will of their own for that to be possible.
It was a conundrum for another time. I had to stay alive until help arrived.
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And as I thought, this thing moved quickly and erratically. I had no time to think of anything else, as all my efforts went into evading and blocking the onslaught aimed at me.
***
[???]
What was this place?
Darkness in all directions, with scattered light in the distance, but too weak to illuminate my surroundings. My feet no longer found solid ground, and I could not tell which way my body was oriented.
I looked down, but nothing was there. I tried to rub my eyes, but neither my eyes nor my hands existed.
Where was my body? What is this place?
What are these lights around me?
Who was I?
A name came to mind. Rex? No, that's not mine. So who was that?
I tried to recall my past. My memories were vague and foggy, but I remembered something that defined me.
Faith. Intense faith in a higher power. The Christian God? No… I'm not sure who or what that is. A memory that didn't belong to me
A god of—
Death.
Was that the answer to everything? Was I dead, then? This didn't seem right.
A garden of bones, a graceful yet terrible woman of regal and macabre bearing. That was the image of the afterlife I held.
If that was wrong, was this the truth of the matter?
These lights that surrounded me… I felt kinship with them.
Or the memory of kinship. Along with a feeling of disgust. Disgust at the idea of becoming like them.
Alien thoughts and feelings invaded my mind.
My name. I had to recall it.
I was seeing through the eyes of a memory. But how did I know this?
I had to remember my name.
Rex.
No! He is not me. He is not even himself. A moniker adopted to shield himself from his original identity.
A disguise adopted to preserve sanity.
I understood it. But I had to discard it all before that false identity consumed me.
Who am I?
Where was the Lady of Death?
Where was my promised eternity?
…
I was slipping. This was but a memory, yet it corroded me with such absolute entropy.
How did the one who experienced this firsthand survive? What did they do to escape? How many years upon years would I have to witness before his escape?
…
…
How does a memory end their life? I am a phantom. Who am I? It matters not. I am a lie. Where is this? It is truth. I am where? Phantom memories. Death. Life. Meaning? Thoughts eat my being. Little insects consume the threads of sanity.
…
Who? Who? Who?
…
Suicide? Not a solution. I view a promised future, death that does not allow death.
Only one way to avoid. Live. Live forever.
I want to live! My soul, my mind, my body, the souls of all others!
I would offer it all. Anything and everything to live! To fear death is wisdom. Was I wise? Yes? No? If I were alive, I could avoid this.
And alive I was. But forced to experience death? I don’t want it.
I'm scared.
I'm scared.
I'm scared.
I want to live!
***
[Rex POV]
The skeletal creature crumpled to the ground at long last. In the end, even with Tiara's help, I could only scratch the surface of the bone. It was all thanks to Marcus reducing it to a fine powder with his fists that I was able to survive.
“Thanks… glad you could make it.”
I smiled weakly and took the hand he offered me. The other creature was in a similar state, evidently lasting barely a minute against this Solean knight.
“Glad I could be here… what the hell happened?”
“...honestly, I don’t know. She used her blood to cast a spell, then this happened.”
We looked at the Black Dael Banshee—a feeble woman rocking back and forth, uttering deluded gibberish.
Or so it seemed to others. To me, her words made perfect sense. Assuming she had seen the Soul Stream.
“A spell with blood?”
Marcus asked while cautiously reaching for a knife.
“Yeah. Well, I think it's her blood. That tar-like crap pouring out of her mouth.”
“Hmm… must have been mana exhaustion. Spellcasters can use their blood as a catalyst to substitute mana, but the backlash is nasty. Or so I've heard. Never actually seen it myself.”
“That's not what we're seeing.”
Meztili shook her head, a spell already prepared in both hands.
“What spell did she cast, Rex?”
I was prepared for this. I didn't want people, especially someone as religious as Meztili, to know about the Soul Stream. However, as far as they knew, I had a Gift that would explain this behaviour.
“She said,
“I see. must have hit her with a powerful backlash.”
“Guess so. What's the spell do exactly?”
“It's meant to force both the caster and target to experience a certain memory, typically whatever is at the forefront of the target's mind.”
She explained.
That was why I saw a flash of memories, I guess. Maybe my quick recovery was how it was meant to be. Or perhaps she was just too weak to do it properly.
Either way, we had a decision to make.
“Her guilt is already proven, right? Why not just execute her now?”
I asked, looking to Marcus for approval.
“I'm totally on board with that. This monster deserves no trial… but what about your mission? You have nobody else left alive to interrogate, do you?”
He was right. There were many questions left from this whole mess that only this woman could answer.
“...She won't be a useful witness. Her mind is broken beyond repair.”
I had heard her ramblings before, countless times. Those who fell this far never found themselves again. Thus, I spoke with conviction and prepared my axe.
But before I could act, she screamed.
“I WANT TO LIVE!”
The black tar spewed out of her like a fountain, engulfing her body and taking on a life of its own.
“Get back!”
A strand of golden light wrapped around both Marcus and me, and the wielder—Meztili—flung us back as a dome of light formed around her.
I didn't know who to focus on as I regained my footing. On my right was what looked like a blob of melting black goo expanding and warping in a desperate attempt to reform itself.
And on my left was Meztili, floating in the air with a storm of golden magic burning away the tar that tried to latch onto her.
But what fascinated me so was that I could her. The bandages, which were ever-present, no matter her setting, were peeling off one by one.
As they scattered, she moved her arms and seemed to be controlling them. But at the same time, spell circles were being formed rapidly behind her, and streaks of golden lightning blew apart the blob each time it lunged at her.
“...My god….”
Marcus muttered beside me.
“That's… raw mana. She's materialising raw mana to form her spell circles.”
I didn't respond. Frankly, I didn't understand the implications. I knew raw mana took on a crystalline form and only occurred when there was a large amount of mana focused in one spot. But is it so hard to achieve that even this knight was amazed?
Meztili's body was half revealed at this point. There was still enough to obscure the sensitive parts, but her shoulders, stomach, and limbs were exposed.
More importantly, I could see her face. The upper half at least.
Golden eyes, long dark hair with a purple tinge, that rapidly shifted to a glittering gold as her magic intensified—clear skin like desert sand that lit up like the sun as mana coursed through her veins.
I could admit it. She was gorgeous.
And terrifying.
Those bandages engulfed the tar monster, seemingly sucking it in as the wrappings turned black and crumbled to dust.
The magical storm that she had become crashed down and blew away the former necromancer with a fury that left no room for response.
Whatever had happened to Esmee Waters, it was not enough to withstand the unbridled force of Meztili's magic.
But as she descended, and Marcus and I allowed ourselves to breathe once more, we saw her for what she was.
A frail girl, barely able to stand. Golden crystals had burst out from her body in multiple places, and her exposed face revealed the intense pain it caused her.
Her breathing was staggered and rough, and she began coughing up a golden powder, complete with blood-drenched fragments.
“Quick, restrain her.”
Marcus pulled something from a pouch on his waist—a spell scroll.
I knelt by Meztili and put her arm around me for support, but Marcus barked with such urgency that my body immediately followed his command.
“No, you fool! Lay her down and hold her still! She'll be dead soon!”
And so I laid her down. Her eyes were hazy, and the golden shine began to fade, but she gave me a small nod, as if concurring with Marcus' words.
He unfurled the scroll with urgency, but still continuously glanced over at the scorched remains of Esmee.
She was undoubtedly dead, but I understood the caution.
“Right. This is going to hurt like nothing you've ever felt before. Rex, hold her firmly, even if you have to break something. And don't let her bite her tongue.”
I had nothing for her to bite down on, and before anything, I had to remove those bandages.
With a single rough pull, I tore them off and revealed her full face.
There was no time to appreciate it, though.
I jammed the grip of my axe into her mouth, and Marcus immediately used his scroll
“
The parchment burned away, and a shimmering bubble of pale light engulfed Meztili while I held her shoulders down.
The effects were near instantaneous.
“Urgh…. Ah! Mmpph! MMMMRRRM!”
Her body began violently trembling. I could tell she was trying to stay still, but it didn't take long for her to start kicking wildly and attempting to push me off.
If not for the crystals in her flesh visibly receding, I would have begun to doubt Marcus’ intentions.
Her eyes began to tear up, and blood trickled from her mouth as she bit down with such intense force.
Marcus, having confirmed the spell was fully active, moved over to assist in restraining her. As he did, I shifted my grip to ensure she did not spit out the axe.
Eventually, Meztili's eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness.
“Do we let go? Is it over?”
I asked.
“It should be fine. The guy I bought this scroll from said it could take up to 15 minutes to complete.”
“Well, how long has it been?”
“Dunno. I lost count at 12 minutes.”
We paused, then slowly let go.
“Nothing. Seems like we're all good.”
“What was that spell anyway?”
“. It negates the mana in a person's body, then prevents them from generating any more for a week. I've had it for months, was gonna finally use it to get the banshee.”
He proudly declared, then made a sour expression.
“Damn thing cost me 300 good pieces.”
“Just think of the bounty money.”
“Knights are forbidden from claiming bounties.”
“What about gifts of gratitude? Say, if a young man from the Empire were to offer half the payment of said bounty?”
“...Heh. I like you, kid.”
“So, do I just take her head? It's practically charcoal now.”
“The cane would suffice. She's known for carrying that creepy thing around.”
Marcus went to Esmee's remains, his boot crushing the brittle remnants of her skull as he bent down to take the cane.
“Catch.”
I caught it by the mid section.
“Don't worry, it's not magical. Just a sick trophy for a twisted old crone.”
He must have read my thoughts as I eyed the thing, half expecting it to curse me or start moving around.
Tiara likewise didn't enjoy the sight of the cat skull adorning the top, as she let out a low whine and burrowed deeper into my cloak.
Marcus slung Meztili's body over one shoulder and started making his way back to town.
“Hold up, we have three more deceased to collect.”
Marcus froze at my words.
“Sorry, kid. They were already defiled.”
“Is that so?”
I figured it was a possibility, and so I accepted it easily and decided to move on. All that was left was to fill in the local authorities and return to Borderton, where a more thorough report would be required.
The paperwork would be a nuisance, but it was the awkward ride home I dreaded the most.
