Chapter 119: Shoot First

I tore into the nave, claws clacking against the floor. Ahead of me, another wrath demon—for that’s all they could be—was standing up from a pile of gore they’d been tearing into.

They stood, surprisingly, taller than I did. Or, they would have had they the posture to stand up straight. Their shoulders and back rose up, immense and covered in short, fat black spikes. Their arms were unnaturally long and thick, each finger tipped with claws as long as kitchen knives. Their powerful legs tightened and claws gouged as they dashed toward me, tail swinging behind for balance.

What caught my eye the most and gave me pause, however, was that, despite multiple sets of horns and tusk-like fangs, their red demonic eyes were crying.

They were fast, in the way that only demons seemed capable of. I hardly had enough time to widen my stance and face their charge. Arms out, I caught them, wincing at the claws that tore into my arms and the spiked tail that wrangled with my own spaded one.

“Why?!” they growled in a low discordant tone, seeming to choke on the word.

With the wind knocked out of me, I couldn’t respond.

The force of the impact sent me skidding back on the stones. I heard Seyari shout from the doorway, but I knew she didn’t have a clear line of sight. I roared and tossed the other demon away from me, their claws getting last hits in on the way out.

My opponent flew across the nave and into the stone wall, impacting it with a cracking sound. Bits of mortar fell down from the ceiling. Seyari fired a lance of holy light at them, burning through a leg as they tried to stand.

“Don’t kill!” I shouted—roared mostly.

The next bolt from Sey went for the demon’s other leg, charring muscle in a grazing hit. I pulled out my spear and shield and leapt across the nave in only a few bounds, crashing and splintering through already ruined pews. I didn’t glance at the pile of viscera that was their latest victim, but its presence burned in my mind.

Why indeed.

My opponent recovered before I could reach them. Stumbling onto all fours, their long arms gave them the momentum they needed to roll out of the way of my spear. I brought my tail around, rotating the momentum of my thrust, caught them under the chin, toppling them.

We wrestled back and forth for another few blows. They smashed my unenchanted shield in half with a swipe of their claws, and I put a few spear-holes in them when they weren’t fast enough on crippled legs. In the background, I heard a shout from Seyari, but the only attention I could give her was a glance as she ran back toward the church’s basement, form glowing with fury.

The distraction cost me, and I lost the use of one of my lower arms, flesh shredded by half a dozen-knife-like talons.

“Why?!” the other demon roared again. “Why won’t they stop?!”

They?

I blocked another attack, stronger than ever with manic fury. For a moment, we were evenly matched. My eyes bored into theirs, searching. Their aura, a sputtering, brownish-crimson halo, ringed their form and only highlighted the pain in their eyes.

Mad or not—I have to know. Are you like me?

For a brief moment, the fighting stilled, and my opponent hesitated. They know they’re far more hurt than I am. Seizing the moment, I rushed forward and overpowered the weakened demon, sending them crashing through more shattered wood and into the wall below a window. The relief of Dhias standing over a wounded man shattered into a million pieces, cascading down over both of us in a piercing rain.

My opponent, as determined as any wrath demon would be, didn’t stay down long, despite the grievous injuries they now sported. With a hiss they stumbled upright, dark fire gathering at the tips of their claws. With a roar, they threw their arms forward, throwing a wall of demonic fire at me. I let the fire wash over me, let the flames wash away yet another set of clothes I really liked, destroying the top of my uniform and singeing my trousers.

I didn’t linger on how glad I was Fira had requisitioned a godsdamned trunk of spare sets.

Instead, I lunged through the fire, tipping my spearpoint up from the other demon’s heart to catch their shoulder. Lilly’s enchanted spearhead dug easily into the stone wall behind them, pinning them under the shattered window.

All around us, splintered wood burned and smoldered, the smoke rising up to meet the starry night outside. Blood pooled underneath them as their demonic healing started to fail. My own blood dripped down my sides as my magically-inflicted wounds started to slowly stop their bleeding.

“Why?” the demon asked again, softer this time.

I let them continue, taking a step forward, but lowering my weapon.

“Why couldn’t we let go of the war?”

I stopped.

“I just wanted… it to end.”

Suddenly it all made sense. Every pattern, every anecdote. Every single death with only a handful of exceptions.

An immense cracking bang rang out in the empty church, drowning out the crackling of fire and the quiet sobs of the dying demon.

Pain, as intense as when I’d taken a holy lance form Seyari tore through my back. My legs collapsed, unfeeling and I toppled over in shock.

What?

“Move,” the other demon said in a pained whisper. Their tone was deferential, and something about it resonated with me.

I moved, rolling. A crossbow bolt, glowing so hard it hurt to look at, landed where my head had been a moment before.

Across the nave, up by the pulpit, Vivian swore.

Vivian.

I remembered Seyari running back and my stomach flipped. My fiancée was nowhere to be seen. Did Vivian hurt her… or worse?

I rolled again, and another bolt caught my tail, burning like the fire I’d never normally feel.

You’ve made your choice, Vivian.

I let my rage explode, barely remembering to toss my spear free. Fire erupted around me, my magic surging out, burning away at the holy magic eating me. Legs still unresponsive, I used my lower arms and my tail to drag myself half upright.

Vivian stood up at the pulpit, expression hard and crossbow drawn. She was injured, blood running in rivulets down from gashes across her face. Her eyes lit gold—angel blooded, if only just. Almost emotionless, I could barely feel her fury, an impenetrable wall between me and it.

Even dragging myself, I wouldn’t be able to outrun her and get in close. So, I drew up my own magic, what was left that wasn’t desperately trying to fix my legs.

The mercenary fired again, the gleaming bolt far faster than it should have been. Even rolling, it caught my horn, shattering it and sending a shockwave of pain throughout my body.

Teeth gritted and eyes barely open through searing agony, I threw my fire at Vivian, willing it to follow when she rolled out of the way. Her eyes went wide, and then hellfire engulfed her. For a moment, I hoped it was over.

And then a glow burned through the green-tinged crimson of my flames, scattering them before shattering. Vivian ripped off a smoking amulet and tossed it to one side, grimacing.

I opened my eyes wide. My legs were almost healed, but I didn’t know if I had time. Even so, if she had other defenses… I probably couldn’t take another hit.

Vivian seemed to figure that out too. She didn’t gloat, didn’t taunt, didn’t say a word. Instead, she reloaded and fired.

I rolled out of the way, furious for once at my own weakness. Not mental weakness, not emotional or social weakness—physical weakness. Was the Sovereign of Wrath really this weak? Was Zerix’Arranthariel really this weak?

I brought my fury against Vivian’s emotional wall like a battering ram. The mental construct broke apart the force of my assault, scattering it like leaves in autumn. All the reaction I managed to get out of Vivian was a single eye twitch.

“You won’t have my mind, demon,” Vivian growled, speaking for the first time in our fight.

I wanted to make it the last.

She fired again, and I barely dodged again. My magic had managed to stem the damage from the holy bolts’ magic, but I was flagging and whether or not I healed would be a close thing—and not a fast thing.

I almost reached for the dying demon, their emotions mollified by their approaching end, but I couldn’t. If I live, they might live, too. A contract would save them, I seemed to know instinctually.

My own remaining magic would have to be enough.

Another bolt—another narrow miss. If Vivian was frustrated, she didn’t show it. She simply loaded yet another bolt and ran her hand across it, lacing it with enough magic to put me down.

“I…” I coughed some blood and tried again, forcing magic into both my words and my fury. “I am Zerix’Arranthariel, the Sovereign of Wrath. BURN!” My voice rose in crescendo to a shout. The melodramatic words fed my magic like kindling to an infant fire, and the next barrage I sent at Vivian’s wall wiped the neutral look off her face.

She screamed. Agony, fear, anxiety—wrath. Her “impenetrable wall” shattered and my fury poured in like water from a collapsing dam. The mercenary stumbled, still managing to hold onto her crossbow and its glowing, loaded bolt. Something enchanted around her wrist caught fire—the green and blue of burning copper.

She screamed again. “No! I’ll avenge—I won’t let—” Her remaining words trailed off into an anguished scream as the white-hot fury of her emotion began to burn—literally. Her eyes glowed brighter gold, this time ringed with crimson as her own magic fought mine to the last. Locked in a battle of wills, we stared at each other through the smoke of burning pews, me prone on the floor and Vivian leaning against the pulpit like a deranged preacher, unable to raise her crossbow and end this.

My magic set free and my fury burning bright, all I could do was watch. “Why?” I hissed, the word burning. “Why?!”

“You have… to die.” Vivian spat, forcing the words out syllable by syllable. “No good… demons. No matter the—”

Vivian’s eyes went wide. The golden glow they held sputtered out and crimson flooded in. Like a flame burning out of control, Vivian’s anger began to consume her from the inside out. Crimson flames sputtered to life from her mouth, and then her eyes. The crossbow clattered to the ground, bumping its trigger and sending the final bolt into the ceiling.

Behind a sheet of mortar, Vivian’s form erupted into flames. In seconds, her entire body was engulfed, a black shadow, silent save for the crackling of flames. Frozen like a statue, the fire consumed it, and what had once been Vivian collapsed into a smoldering pile of bones and ash.

If you killed any of my friends, I will find your soul and burn that too!

My head pounded, mana exhaustion creeping black tendrils across my vision. Why hadn’t I seen this coming? Why had I let a human of all things get the drop on me?

Stupid. I’d been colossally stupid.

I collapsed against the cold stone floor, relieved. Remembering Lockmoth, and remembering that my fiancée might be dying only a room away, I fought through and stood up. My legs barely responded, my tail acting more to keep me up than they did, as I stumbled toward the back room.

“Seyari!” I shouted, voice hoarse. “If you’re still alive, it’s over!”

For a moment, I heard no response, and my heart seized. No. No, she can’t have… Seyari wouldn’t lose to Vivian, right?

Neither would I.

From next to me, the other demon, still clinging to life, wheezed, “Please…”

In a horrifying moment, I realized I had to make another choice. One that couldn’t really be a choice.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t—”

““Zarenna!”” Taava and Nelys shouted, voices echoing from the back room.

My heart surged. They’re alive!

“Seyari, she’s—” Nelys started.

“Alive! Real fucked up, but alive,” Taava interrupted.

I stumbled from the whiplash of emotions. She’s alive! Now I turned to look at the demon, their chest rising and falling shallowly as their eyes drifted closed.

Not this time. Their words and their tears burned themselves into my memory. Are they really to blame, or just another victim?

I limped over to them as fast as I could. “Name?” I asked, thoughts of what to do snapping into place from instincts I barely understood.

“I don’t…” Their head rolled lazily around to face me, eyes losing focus.

“Your name from before works. Pick one—pick something.”

“Joisse...” they gasped.

“Then I, Zerix’Arranthariel shall form a contract with Joisse, upon Joisse’s acceptance. The terms are as such: Joisse shall not harm without reason. In exchange, I offer Joisse one one-hundredth of my power, or more for a time determined by me and if given freely by myself. If Joisse breaks this contract, their soul is forfeit unto me—at my discretion.”

Joisse looked at me blankly, eyes dimming.

No. No!

“Do you accept?”

Without hesitation, they hissed a very quiet, “Yessss…” before their eyes closed.

Did… did it work?

I heard two pairs of light footsteps run into the nave from the back room. They stopped dead the moment they entered—doubtless due to the carnage before them, and the sorry state of the two demons in the room. I stared at the demon in front of me, willing them to live—for the contract to work.

After a heart-wrenching moment, I felt a small tug on my mana, insistent as though it had a right to what was mine. I gave not only what was asked, but a surge of extra from my nearly depleted reserves, hoping the feeling was what my mind told me it was. My heart stayed clenched, not yet ready to believe.

Footsteps, now slower, walked toward me. I couldn’t tear my gaze away, but I heard soft whispers that assured me the pair were Taava and Nelys.

I watched the demon’s chest rise again, then fall. Their eyes didn’t flutter open, but as I crouched in front of them, their breathing evened out. I didn’t stop giving them more of my magic until threads of blackness crept in at the edges of my vision.

I failed Ruston, Lorelei, and Markus. I almost failed Seyari, Nelys, and Taava, too. Either way, I wouldn’t fail Joisse: as another wrath demon, I could save them. Will I regret this? Who knows.

“Where’s Seyari?” I asked my friends, finally getting a good look at them. While their clothing was torn, and they had scarring and dried blood in places, they looked mercifully unhurt. Or recently healed.

“Downstairs,” Nelys answered.

“We didn’t wanna try ta get her up the ladder.”

“How bad is it?” I asked, afraid of the answer. Should I burn Vivian’s bones, too?

“Seyari’s in one piece,” Taava replied seriously. “And breathin’.”

“Watch Joisse,” I told them both, looking at Nelys in particular. “I’ll be back shortly.”

I gestured at the unconscious red demon, all spikes and unnatural limbs heaped into a pile that looked more dead than alive.

“Where’s the backstabber?” Nelys asked, looking at Joisse, but ignoring them for now.

I thrust a finger at the pile of bones and ash, a gleaming crossbow sitting untouched not even a meter away. “She’s dead.”

Taava glanced over at the pile of ash and smiled, showing sharp canines. “Good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t see this coming. I could’ve—”

“It’s okay,” Nelys said, pulling me into a hug despite the blood and ash that covered me. “Maybe you’re too nice sometimes, but I think we all like that. Even Taava.”

“Yep! You’re too damn nice, but it’s fun ta watch ya learn when ta make with the fire.” Taava glanced down at the demon, eyes lingering on their wicked claws. “Speakin’ of… Ya said to watch that one. They’re not gonna… ya know?”

I shook my head. “They won’t. If people come to check out what happened, stall them.”

Nelys nodded, smiling faintly. “Yes, boss.”

“Sure, boss,” Taava saluted, ears at attention.

***

I gave up on the ladder after the first rung, and after checking that the darkness below was clear, I dropped, wincing a little from landing on bad legs.

The room was a mess of cut furniture and oddly-contained scorch marks—holy magic no doubt. Seyari sat on the pew, on top of the now-bloody rags. From here, I could see she was breathing slowly, and she opened one golden eye to glance my way when I came down.

“Hey,” she said, coughing. “Hope you didn’t think it was—” she paused to cough “—too bad.”

“I was worried. When Vivian came out after you ran back—I thought that…” I walked closer, noticing the burns across her body, and the broken arm that lay across her chest. Her lovely silver hair was scorched entirely off one side of her head. I ran my hand across it the surface and she winced.

“Shhh. I’ll be fine. It’s just hair, and by tomorrow I’ll have something that looks intentional.” She looked up at me. “You don’t look so good yourself.” She pointed to my missing horn. “Did you win?”

“Yeah, Vivian’s dead. Burned her to ash, and I only got shot twice.” I looked up, trying in vain to see my missing horn. “That’ll grow back again—probably. Are you okay to be moved?”

She looked down at my legs, supported by my tail. “Are you okay to move me?”

I reflexively tried to answer yes, but shook my head instead. “Probably not right now. Not enough working limbs.”

Seyari frowned, then smiled suddenly enough to surprise me. “Fine then. I’ll guess we’ll just wait here until your spine un-breaks.”

I couldn’t help it, despite everything. Despite all the pain and chaos and mistakes, I laughed.