Chapter 239: Fanaticism and Divinity

The demon summoner had taken every precaution, but knew there was a risk. Sometimes though, a risk had to be chanced if the cause was just.

And there was no cause more just than this.

As they chanted, the noise of mindless cheering in the stadium as filthy priests spoiled a contest celebrating mortals’ triumphs over the divine, came to mind.

They shook their head; it always started that way.

With cheers of approval.

Priests would make their way to communities—often wearing threadbare robes—and work a little miracle here, and another one there that the people would cheer. That got the priests invited to stay; the demon summoner’s own community was an example of their subtleness.

At first, they had been unobtrusive—even helpful—building a little temple for themselves and doing good works. The people had started depending on them.

Then came the ‘asks’.

They had started small by asking for volunteers to help clean their little temple.

“Oh, it would be good for the children,” they’d said. “It will give them something to do and grant them the virtue of a good, hard day’s labour. We wouldn’t want them to be idle, would we?”

Then came the asks for coin.

“Children! Our temple has fallen into ill-repair, and its beautification would please our deity and help the community!” they’d cried. “Please, do not mire yourselves in selfishness and remember the wonders our deity has worked for you! Open your purses! Open your chests! Open your coffers and strongboxes! A little from each is all that’s needed!”

The people had given generously and the temple had swelled and swelled and swelled. Suddenly, it was the largest building in town and the priests no longer wore threadbare robes.

“Our deity would want us to be presentable!” they had claimed, with smiles that had sparkled just as brightly as the sapphires encrusted in their holy symbols.

The asks for time had come next.

“Attend! Attend! Come to our speeches!” they had said. “Listen to our holy words so that our blessings may fall upon you!”

The demon summoner felt bile rise up in their throat.

Over three generations, those ‘holy words’ had wormed into the minds and souls of the people. So many had been blinded and twisted on the inside, that they’d become monsters capable of things that would have been unimaginable before.

Then, they were ready for the priests’ final ask.

“Our deity requires fine souls to attend them in their divine palace! Who shall have this eternal blessing and live forever in the light of our deity?” the priest had smiled with dead eyes. “Who will take on this honour?”

Pretty words.

Pretty words when just one would have sufficed: ‘Sacrifice.’

There were volunteers—eager to attend the deity—but sacrifice was not so pretty a thing to see. It had made some stomachs turn and finally opened some eyes…but it was too late. The community was too far gone.

People whispered against the priests…but they were rooted out. Brother sold out brother if they spoke against the priests. That had been the fate of the demon summoner’s own father. Sister would tell on mother. Daughter on son. Eventually, all the whispers went silent.

As sacrifices grew, the deity grew more powerful, yet more hungry. The community took to taking unsuspecting travellers against their will, slipping into villages and abducting those peacefully asleep in their beds, then blaming monsters, goblins, beast-goblins and wicked fey.

But secrets come out in their own good time.

In the demon summoner’s youth, the rulers of the region stepped in with a punitive force of soldiers, wizards, and those of the Delvers’ guild. The wicked priests were imprisoned, and the community was freed. Some were too far gone to be saved and were also imprisoned with their beloved priests.

The summoner’s mind had at last been unshackled…and they’d cursed themselves for staying silent, paralysed with fear.

But never again.

They’d travelled, saving others from cults.

Life-debts were made.

Bonds of friendship were formed that carried all the way through years of study at Generasi: at this wonderful place that kept the evils of the divine suppressed.

But, now the threat was rising even here.

Even the chancellor—who seemed to understand the threat better than most—was letting the toxin grow and spread: to work so closely with Thameland’s church would only invite the infection in.

It needed to be cut out, just like that disgusting display in The Grand Battle.

People had to be made to see…made to fear.

The demon summoner spoke carefully, pronouncing the words of both the spell and the name of the abyssal knight being called with precision. The name was long and in a language that no mortal mouth was meant to utter: but long days and nights of practice let it roll off the tongue. Demons were creatures of whim, but pacts could be made with them. They could be understood, controlled, or at least directed. A crude tool, they were, but if one knew what they wanted…

Ah.

Here it was.

The air swam in front of the summoner as a dark presence entered the world.

Mana flared in the summoning circle: a clever crafting of their own design. The symbols in the circle were designed to not only contain the creature, but make it invisible, unseen by anyone. Even from the one who’d called it.

“Welcome,” the summoner said. “I’m pleased that you answered. I do not take your time for granted and hope to never waste the gift that you grant me.”

There was a moment of silence.

“There is no wasted time for one whose time is infinite,” a voice like crackling flame answered. “What do you call me for?”

“A request to bring your servants and your soldiers here to spread terror and kill those who serve the divine.”

“This suits me. More suffering to the servants who once chained me,” the invisible abyssal knight said. “And my debt?”

“Lessened,” was the demon summoner’s response.

“…you have called on me many times and each time you only say the debt has ‘lessened’,” an iron hard threat entered its voice. “Why should I not say it is paid in full?“

“Because you owe me your life,” came the same reply the demon received each time it brought up that point. The summoner continued. “And we both know a life debt is a heavy debt to owe. I can never take it lightly. I have not gone back on my word once since our relationship began…and I can now offer future payment.”

“Future payment?”

“…have you or your servants ever had dealings with something called The Ravener? It is a threat in this world.”

There was a pause.

“Only a little,” the crackling voice said. “Some whom I cross paths with and some of my servants have been summoned by mortals to combat this being. The name…it is somewhat familiar, but of little consequence: merely another threat to mortal kind like so many across a thousand worlds.”

“This threat might have a resource that you could use,” the demon summoner offered. “I don’t have full details, but one who also owes a life-debt to me is involved. The resource lies in the hands of those who serve a deity, but they have never harvested it to its full potential, from what was said by those with knowledge of the situation. I think something of that nature would be better used in your hands, my friends’ hands, or even mine.”

“…what is this treasure?”

“We can speak of that after you fulfil our bargain. I need you to kill three centaur priests. Make the meaning of terror known to anyone near. Show this place the truth: that involvement with the divine only brings pain.”

The demonic knight said nothing, his silence was his agreement.

The summoner explained Oreca’s Fall Island in detail, its location and what the demons should expect to find there.

“The horned wizard is there?” the abyssal knight hesitated for a moment. “I have lost a very powerful resource to his actions.”

“You do not need to battle him directly,” the summoner said quickly. “Kill the priests, distract him. Hmmmm…actually, there is a stadium close by. Attack there as well, offer a taste of fear to as many as you can like you have done in the past: they need to be educated in what it means to tolerate priests, and attacks in two locations will be a good lesson, and a good distraction.”

“…very well. I am in this world because of your magic…I shall call my armies as you ask.”

The abyssal knight reached his power back to his home of smoke and brimstone and called for his demons.

Then he paused, as if listening to something.

“Wait,” the demon’s voice crackled. “Are you not alone in this place?”

“Hm?” The summoner looked around quickly. “Yes, I’m alone.”

“Mmmmm,” the abyssal knight growled. “Not so. There are voices nearby. Voices speaking in whispers…but they cannot escape my senses. They are talking about you.”

The demon summoner paused, cursing the bad timing.

“…then get rid of them.”

“Baelin?” Professor Salinger said quietly to the wind. “I don’t have much time; I think the demon summoner is in the botanical gardens. I’m contacting The Watchers now.”

The professor finished the spell, and Kybas heard the wind gust, carrying the message away. Salinger cast the spell again and the wind rose up around him.

“Gemini, the demon summoner might be in the botanical gardens. Send help as quick as you can.”

Salinger cut off the spell as the wind swept away. “Alright, Kybas, they’ve been informed. Let’s get going.”

“That’s right,” Kybas said. “Come on, Harmless, we’ve got work to do.”

He started back in the direction of the summoner.

Salinger’s hand fell on his shoulder.

“Hold on, now,” the professor said. “We should leave them to battle wizards. You’re between first and second year, and I’m not a combat wizard. Let’s get to safety and leave this in the hands of prof-”

Crack.

Something snapped in the foliage around them.

Kybas’ ears twitched.

“Wait, professor,” the goblin said. “Something…there’s something out there.”

He turned toward the greenery, straining his eyes.

His ears continued twitching.

Salinger also turned toward the foliage.

A heartbeat later, bat-winged creatures burst from the brush. They were slightly taller than Kybas and had long wolf-like faces above humanoid bodies. They shot toward the two wizards, screeching and belching a foul gas.

Salinger froze in surprise, but Kybas was already chanting a spell and Harmless was bounding forward.

Raising his hands, the goblin shot mana bolts at the monsters’ wings, clipping them, knocking them from the sky. They landed hard on the stones near Harmless who leapt on them with his jaws snapping. His teeth clamped down on demon wings and he began to roll across the ground, pulling them with him.

They screeched.

Salinger winced as he raised his hands in the air. “Defend us, my friends!” he shouted.

Rrrrrmble.

The earth shook.

Rrrrrriiiiip!

Vines and snaking roots tore from the earth around them, shooting into the air then coiling tightly around approaching demons.

“Let’s get them Harmless! You too, professor!” Kybas roared at the top of his lungs. “For the Chulu! For Generasi!”

Harmless seemed a lot more enthusiastic about the battlecry than Salinger did.

Something prickled against Alex’s skin: a crawling feeling, like teleportation or summoning magic was coming from someplace nasty. The feeling was very familiar too.

And it was coming from close by.

“Oh by The Traveller, no,” he murmured. “Oh no, no, no.”

His team had been regenerating their mana and celebrating, while medical staff offered mana soothing and other potions and finished doing more thorough examinations.

“What is it?” Theresa said, turning to Alex.

“Something’s coming!” he shouted, drawing eyes from everyone in the camp. “Something real nasty! Get ready!”

Horror surged through him.

The summoning magic…he felt it from all directions: from deep in the island’s core, from the sea, and from all around the camp on the beach. It felt like an army was coming, much bigger than the demon hordes that had attacked Carey London’s rally.

The staff and competitors looked at him and each other in confusion.

Then they heard Baelin’s voice.

“He is right!” the chancellor roared. “We are under attack from the demon summoner, brace for battle!”

A breath later, portals opened all around them.

Horrors poured into their world.

The demons came in all shapes and sizes. Some were small, with wolf-like faces and bat-like wings. Others were larger: as tall as Thundar’s seven feet, with cloven hooves, blood red bodies and horned heads. Each carried a massive bone axe and had a third eye—like Claygon’s—glowing in their foreheads. Others resembled insects covered in frost. These were taller than Grimloch, with giant scythe-like arms. From the Prinean, demons emerged with needle-like fangs—a cross between selechar, frog and scaled fish—and crawled onto the shore.

The evil was everywhere, and the competitors no longer had spell-marks to whisk them to safety if they were injured. At least Alex and Baelin’s warning had stopped what would have been a catastrophic ambush from happening. Those on the beach weren’t caught completely unawares.

“Finally!” Grimloch roared. “A real fight! Let’s get ‘em!”

Alex’s team didn’t hesitate.

Spell-marks or no spell-marks, they’d been through plenty of deadly battles together: they knew how to react quickly.

As Grimloch surged toward the nearest group of demons, Theresa drew her sword and knife, charging alongside a snarling Brutus. Svenia and Hogarth raised their spears and followed right behind. Thundar took a moment to cast a body enhancement spell on himself before charging in after them.

Alex wasted no time sending Claygon into battle.

‘Go!’ he thought. ‘Crush every one of those filthy things you see. Use the fire-gems and blast the icy ones, and smash the ones with three eyes.’

Claygon’s hands snapped into fists and he rushed along the beach, kicking up sand with every massive step.

Whooom.

The fire-gems were charging as he ran.

Khalik immediately chanted a spell.

Fwooooosh!

The sand burst up around him, and his hands moved like he was directing a symphony. White sand coiled up into whip-like constructs that shot toward their attackers. Lightning crackled around Isolde’s fingers as she soared into the air.

Alex’ mind raced.

He didn’t have much time to cast his full arsenal of defensive spells.

‘So, go for an offence that strikes hard and fast: shock and awe,’ he thought. ‘Shock and awe!’

“Cast Orb of Air on everyone!” He shouted to his team.

He pulled out a potion of booby-trapped flight and started casting Call Through Ice.

All around, the beach had erupted in chaos.

Baelin floated above the battlefield and spread his hands over the multitude of people and demons below. Mana roared through the air, seeming to shake the world. A wave of power burst from his hands, rushing into each competitor, staff member, and referee. When the power touched an ally, a silver light would envelope them, Greater Force Armour would enwrap them, and a forceshield materialised in front to deflect demon attacks.

Ram shot through the air—encased in the silvery light—firing black bolts of power that pierced demonic hides like a hot knife through butter.

Vesuvius spewed lava and flame on a clot of demons while Tyris blasted them with her spells. Hanuman and his team leapt into the fray. The Outcasts…

Alex paused.

Demons were bounding toward them, fighting hard to push past wizards to reach them. Five three eyed demons were going for the elemental knights.

‘Priests,’ Alex thought. ‘Of course the demon summoner would be going after the priests.’

He turned back to his friends as he finished his spell and raised the bottle of potion. The portal appeared, sending the potion at the group of demons his friends battled…

…but then he felt something.

An eye was watching him.

No. Many eyes.

He looked back at The Outcasts.

A three eyed demon had stopped its attack on last year’s champions.

Its head tilted to one side, a look full of puzzlement filled its face.

It shouted to him in a language he’d never heard before. He stared at it, frowning. Then, it spoke directly to him in a language he understood:

“You!” it roared out. “I knew your death was a lie! You grow sloppy: I’ve heard the trickle of your power in recent times through the planes, and now I find you here in that false form!”

Alex had no idea what the demon was talking about, but he did know that he’d caught its attention as soon as he’d cast Call Through Ice.

A teleportation spell.