Chapter 9-266: True Names and Faces

WHAT NOW?, he asked calmly, eying the three sprawled females with approval for just how brutally they’d been taken down.

I pointed. “Tell me if that dais is part of the floor or laying on it. It doesn’t look like the same type of stone.”

He trotted across the fifty-foot distance to the center of the circle, and crouched down to touch the seam. FUSED, BUT SEPARATE, he confirmed.

I nodded. “And it’s too heavy for you to move.”

He pushed it slightly, and nodded confirmation.

I took a deep breath, frowning. “Are you willing to make that sacrifice, in order to free that angel?”

He looked at the tortured, screaming angel, tormented for who knew how many years to keep Hong Kong free of Cultivators. He knew the silver and emerald being was powerful just by its size and wing count, and would not have been at all surprised to learn that it was the Angelos’ direct superior.

This being would be an almighty help, and was a peerless champion of Good. The sacrifices and efforts it had made over the eons past, and those yet to come, were going to be exceptional, at the least.

YES, he nodded, rising to his feet.

I reached down, tore the oily metal helm off the erinyes there, her forward-jutting crimson horns gleaming against her dark red hair as I sent a pulse of healing through her skull, and she half-jolted awake.

My Hand began to sizzle with a lot of power. Her instinctive snatch at my hand paused in mid-move with unnatural stillness.

I turned her head to where the malebranche was screaming and writhing in a torrent of dark, dark hellfire, and she gasped despite herself as she stared at his impaled body, not having paid much attention to that fight.

“He’s going to burn, and eventually burn up, after suffering all the true torment that hellfire can unleash upon him. I have exactly one use for you. It requires that I know your True Name. I am not interested in your knowledge, your connections, your service, your advice, or your fealty in the slightest. I am only interested in your True Name.”

I was speaking in Mabrohoring, the diabolic tongue. My inflection was pretty good, and I was damn sure I was getting a hefty circumstance bonus on the Intimidation check, made only nicer by Master Fred striding through the hellfire surges, his skin burning away slightly, his injuries flaring in sympathy, and then being restored instantly, not enough to really do anything to him.

“If you do not give me your True Name in thirty seconds, I am going to impale you on a stela there, and watch you burn along with that angel.” Without effort, I lifted her off the floor, facing the planetar writhing in agony where he was impaled on that forsaken Altar. “You know nobody is going to rescue you if it means taking down their precious Ward. Make your choice.”

I probably could just rip it out of her mind, but it was more fun to feel her shudder as she realized all the truth in what I was saying.

At twenty-five seconds she opened her lips and uttered a distinctly unpleasant set of syllables that somehow sounded both seductive and sharp at the same time.

“Shirt,” I told Master Fred, who shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his t-shirt. The burning scars traced over his chest and side, lash wounds from a diabolic Whip that had never been allowed to truly heal, gleamed in anticipation of the pain they were dealing him with every motion.

He turned around, and revealed the Sealing Pentagram on his back.

I hissed out her True Name with some magical help, really hurt the back of the throat pronouncing that, adding, “You are Bound and Sealed!”

She sort of cried out as I shoved her face into that pentagram, which flared with the light of a Binder and sucked her in as she discorporated. The lines of light bent and reshaped, and when they dimmed, a perfect Tat of the armored erinyes was glaring at me from on his back.

“Idiot. Fiendslayer configuration, please.” I reached out my hand, and Master Fred passed his Sword back to me.

I felt the long line of things that he had killed in approval, not for the first time, and the overly Heavy Weapon rose easily enough in my hand, humming with a configuration designed to kill Evilborn forever.

I was perfectly aware that Master Fred did not actually have the power to Bind and Seal an erinyes that strong. His Binder ability was at Six, and even using his Warlock power to deter her, it wasn’t going to last long.

Then again, it didn’t have to, as I drove Idiot through the face of that Tat, into his heart, and out through the front of his chest.

Idiot was Bloodbound, and would phase right through him, totally untouchable by him if he didn’t use his ki when grasping it. The erinyes, although Bound to him in a spiritual state, was not so fortunate, and was impaled on a quasi-flaming Fiendslaying Weapon burning cheerfully with 5d6+8 or so of bonus damage, right into his Pactspace and the Pacts burning there.

His Pacts woke up at this intrusion... and as she writhed and tried to break out of the Tat, their collective Wrath reached up, dragged her back in multi-colored fires, and proceeded to Consume her.

His Hellpact was blazing hotly as the erinyes was Power-Consumed, feeding all that power cheerfully down into Master Fred. His bronzed skin went milky pale, almost as white as a Cultivator, but with a crimson edge to it. Two red horns erupted from his forehead, exactly identical to the ones that had burned away on the erinyes, and the fires that were swallowing her and eradicating her billowed up into great black raven’s wings... edged in silver.

He’d reached Ten, and taken his Human/4, the Atlantean Human template. Fully actualized, taking other Racial Levels was now a total possibility, and his Hungry Kiss Pact made that easy to do if he ran into a Pact Grantor from Hell. He could kill them, and ‘take their place’.

Unfortunately for it, it was acting a mite hastily, as said Grantor was also dying really fast as all that Wrath and Banefire and Vivus and Holy damage burned her away forever. She only had one use to me, and this was it.

The Tat was soon completely gone, and the Pentagram was back in place, empty. I pulled Idiot out, resting his point on the polished black floor.

All Master Fred’s hellscars were still present, and if anything stood out even more as he got to his feet slowly, his short blond hair looking rather metallic at the moment. He looked up at the wings flapping behind him, and frowned.

With a swirl of cloud vapor and celestial light, his Angel Wings from his Heavenpact flowed into existence below the new Wings, thinner and longer than the top pair, cream white edged in jet.

Heaven and Hell Wings. Not exactly like Sole had, but close.

I looked at the two unconscious Amazons. They bore no visible wounds, but the trauma of having suffered lethal blows of subdual damage meant they were both unconscious and staying that way.

“Consume them both. You’ll need the united power of their Pacts to do the job, as they are Sixes, and you’re a Ten.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, regret flashing across his face, and then stared at both of them for a good twenty seconds each, his expression getting grimmer as he did.

There was no protest, and if he had one, I would not have pressed. He reached down, grabbed the buxom blonde, and shoved her head completely into his mouth in one move.

She probably would have struggled if she could, but she was unconscious and not going to be any trouble. Hellish flames rippled out over her, turning her flesh supple and watery. Her body flowed out of her clothing in a stream of motion, going right down his throat in no time at all as he Consumed a helpless woman via the power of the Hungry Kiss Pact, and took her for his own.

He coughed and almost gagged, staggering back... but did not change form. I could see that the idea of stealing another’s identity revolted him, but it wasn’t an issue.

“Confine her inside your Pactspace, and take the next one.” His eyes looked inside once, and he half-spat, leaving me wondering what he was seeing there, and he stepped for the downed Oriental, one eye still burning with residual holy fires.

She went down as fast and easily as the blonde had, her clothing falling limply to the ground as it was emptied of her.

“Might want to put a new tunic on,” I advised him as he stood there with his eyes closed, breathing deeply, all his Hellscars blazing brightly on him at this delighted turn of events, burning him and wanting to force him to change.

He grabbed his jacket, pulled a plain black t-shirt out of a pocket there, and shrugged it on, before slipping his jacket and holster back on as well. He looked down at me, and while I showed regret, I was also determined.

“Now, step between their Pacts, and swap it into your Fifth Slot.”

He closed his eyes, making a move in his Pactspace. The souls of the two Amazons would be confined by the Power of his Hellpact, and as Amazons were neo-Warlocks, that meant their Amazon Pacts were subordinated to him as an aspect of their power. Their souls were still guaranteed to Queen Rue, his Hellpact wouldn’t change that, but the power of those Pacts was his to use, just like it was for Shvaughn.

They probably didn’t like it when he pulled their Pacts away and redirected their energies through himself. For instance, they would instantly lose all the Amazon Buffs, and that included the Perfect Stat Line of 18’s that all Amazons had, reducing them to their pre-Amazon selves... who were probably some pretty average women, and not at all a match for him in any respect whatsoever.

Of course, only women could wield an Amazon Pact.

The change was pretty quick, taking less than six seconds, and actually would have been hard to follow if it didn’t slow down while getting rid of all his Hellscars.

Amazon Pacts changed their holders into perfect women, after all, and that included eliminating old Hellscars.

Master Fred’s hair was instantly two feet long, looking like spun gold, while the horns on her head looked as sharp as spears. The erinyes wings gleamed and rippled with sudden power and strength, and the air seemed to tremble a moment at the sudden and awful rise of a Heavy Gravity Amazon Erinyes.

Diabolic beauty with a deadly Heavenly air, skin holding in a level of power that just seemed ready to explode out, something beyond even Sama or Briggs.

His Strength had been in the area of 44, with a Might of 51 or so. The Erinyes Racial Bonus to Strength was +10. The Amazon bonus to Strength for a Ten was also +10.

+20 to Strength is x16 Strength. Add on the functioning perfect Stat line, his own Stat Raises from Levels and Stuff, and Master Fred was right now rocking some nice and friendly Class 100+ tons of Might... before the Philosopher’s Might.

Not bad for taking in diabolic energy and becoming a perfect Hunter of Mortals.

“Pry up that dais and haul it out here,” I said calmly, refusing to be fazed.

Master Fred turned, looked at the dais, flicked fingers adorned with nails long enough to be called claws, and strode forward.