Chapter 2041

Chapter 2041

In quick succession, Faelmac Westrisser killed the rest of the floating insurrectionists. He didn’t even really need to manifest his image. The feathers binding them stretched and ripped through their bodies, somehow ripping their way through any resistance. Shredded remnants of their organs squeezed through the feathered and splattered down on the rooftops below.

Idly, Jotem reflected that if someone didn’t go up and clean up the offal, Malloon would soon have quite a literal stink on its hands. And probably a fly problem.

I think I’ve had quite enough of city life, Jotem resolved. Uncle can handle the skyislands himself. Perhaps the Nether King was right; what I need is a stretch of peace nurturing plants on the farm.

For almost two more minutes, Westrisser remained in position, his feathers softly falling across the whole of the city. The purity and power of his image became an itch against the half-origin Beast’s skin, but he dare not move, lest he draw the tyrant’s attention. Let justice be served, huh...

Westrisser’s gaze burned, brooding and intense, focused on the crushed remnants of the insurrectionists he had just executed. Finally, the Patron of the Abyss cleared his throat and broke the tense silence. “Well, it appears you have the situation well in hand, Lord Westrisser. We will leave you to mop up the remnants-”

“You cannot yet leave,” Finally, Westrisser shifted his focus to them. A cyclone of discarded feathers swirled around his body. “I have not yet cast judgment on the two of you.”

For the first time since Nether King Hungry Eye had walked into his shop, Jotem realized he would soon die. The pressure of the city lord’s image against his skin suddenly took on a horrific note of finality.

“...surely you jest, Lord Westrisser,” The Patron of the Deep affected an amused tone. Yet from the trembling of his inflated body, Jotem knew his uncle also felt a horrible, existential fear. “This used to be Jotem’s shop, yes, but we have no connection to these rabid anarchists. We are not responsible for this attack.”

“On the contrary,” Westrisser replied slowly, spreading his arms and gesturing at the chaos still gripping the streets below. “Would we be suffering such attacks if Elhume had not spent years indulging and emboldening such foolishness? I cannot think of individuals who are more at fault than you.”

Despite the pressure Jotem felt, he found that statement a little difficult to swallow. They might now be dead, but clearly the captured individuals had been more at fault.

Yet what really stopped Jotem’s heart were the Patron’s next words. “If you insist on being bullheaded about this, at least let my fool of a nephew go. I have no doubt you’ve been thoroughly observing him for a long time; he is a simple, and relatively talentless merchant. He has not involved himself in the matters of Elhume.”

Jotem made the small noise of an animal being strangled. He felt oddly touched that his uncle appeared to be defending him while simultaneously deeply bitter the Origin Beast had found the opportunity in that laudable pursuit to insult his acumen as a merchant.

The Patron of the Deep lived to straddle that line, Jotem knew.

Westrisser smiled, yet there was something different about this expression.. His long wings stretched out as he regarded the Patron. He spoke in a low voice. “I have not been systematically slaughtering your people to allow you to now escape. You both foolishly delivering yourselves to me is unexpected, but I will not reject your generosity.”

“You will stop me? Heh. Foolish mongrel. Do your worst.” Westrisser gestured casually, a hundred sharpened ivory feathers slanting down to slice through both of them. After those densely packed projectiles ripped through their bodies, all that remained of them would dribble away into Malloon’s gutters.

“I am a Nether Herald, bound by the ancient rite of Phaea.” The old being of Nether announced to the air. He seemed worryingly unconcerned with the descent of the feathers. Wind and image howled, almost drowning out his words. “As such, any place I may speak-”

“Is a place where I am,” Nether King Hungry Eye popped into existence next to the Nether Herald and growled, his emerald eyes flashing. He looked up at the descent of the feathers with a serious expression. Nether erupted from his body in a tidal wave. “Seize.”

For a split second, Westrisser’s massive and domineering image flared with power in response to the rush of Nether the sudden arrival unleashed. The two forces smashed into each other, not so much struggling as seeking to drown the other within themselves. And despite the home ground and preparations made by Westrisser, the two’s energies grappled evenly.

Still broken on the ground right by the confrontation, Jotem looked up into the face of Nether King Hungry eye as the moment stretched, the thrum of tension between these two figures escalating toward some massive fissure.

It was almost possible to allow the implications of the battle to fall away and indulge a curiosity that had long plagued Jotem. Secretly, he had always wondered why this being’s name had been Nether King Hungry Eye: powerful the Nether King certainly was, but his eyes usually looked mundane. Certainly with a lovely hue and possessing obvious depth and intelligence, but they had never seemed to earn the moniker hungry.

Yet now, Jotem understood. Every moment of invisible struggle saw the coloring in the Nether King’s eyes growing more pale and luminous. Until the color seemed to sear the world with such vehemence that everything else looked dull.

Jotem’s ears popped. In the next moment, the sky shattered and the remnant bits of feathers fluttered down around the group. Westrisser looked positively livid for a moment, glaring at the Nether King. Yet he quickly managed to cover up the expression with a sneer. “Nether King Hungry Eye. A cute trick, but I’m aware of the limitations of the bond of Phaea; teleporting would leave your body under immense physical strain. Do not antagonize me again or I will rip at your weakness and break you.”

The Nether King barred his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Rumors of my weakness are greatly exaggerated, I think you’ll find. Besides, I don’t think I’m the one you need to worry about.”

On cue, a well-muscled being with a flaming fist appeared in the sky behind Westrisser. His eyes burned, his image of strength thundering through the void created when Nether King Hungry Eye managed to shake Westrisser’s grip on the area.

“This is for fucking with my people,” Elhume growled. He punched and just the attack’s passage blasted away all the loose feathers filling the air.

Westrisser spun with a growl and met the punch with his wing. The resulting explosion probably would have stomped away the last remnants of Jotem’s life, had the Nether King not been standing above him. As it was, the teetering remnants of the building collapsed inwards in another billowing cloud of dust.

Everything started happening too quickly. More Nether poured out of the Nether King, filling the air and making it even easier to choke on the airborne debris. Several large impacts shook the ground as the clash between Westrisser and Elhume continued out of Jotem’s awareness.

However, Westrisser’s voice rose calmly above the chaos. “Guards. A few additional troublemakers are loose in Malloon. Put them down.”