Redemption Arc

Now that Lucian had spent his trump card making sure that Duke Clemens Metterand—all-around bastard, warmonger, and abusive brother-in-law—got his just desserts, there was really only one path to dealing with Aurelia that he could see. He needed to participate in the fight against the devil standing in front of him. When the Inquisitor’s Mark absorbed its demonic power, he needed to make it to her ritual to place the Mentor’s Seal upon all in the monastery before she did.

But taking out this devil was easier said than done.

Lucian beheld the demon that had been possessing Metterand’s body: Belhazek the Black-Tongued. He had a fiendishly lithe body, and skin that looked like black leather fit perfectly. His fingers were uncomfortably long and topped with nails that were as sharp and long as daggers. He had a graceful posture, his wings folded neatly behind him to the point they were nigh invisible. Shadows clung to his form like the placenta of a newborn abomination.

One leathered gimp versus a pack of big dogs, Lucian thought. Someone would pay a lot of money to see this.If only they could take my place.

“Lucian,” Belhazek said. Its voice was vaguely reminiscent of Metterand’s, but even further warped by the form it now inhabited. It no longer had the demented rage, but a cool and sophisticated detachment. “You disappoint me. I had such high hopes for us.”

All of the monastics of Heavenwatch Monastery inched closer cautiously, their teeth bared. Lucian stayed where he was. Up close was where he’d be at most risk. The devil in front of them was no longer Metterand. Bits and pieces of him remained inside, but the majority of it had been subsumed into Belhazek.

Lucian could tell that this thing was trying to discredit him in front of everyone. He needed to get him to shut up right away. Most devils had a very simple trigger, fortunately.

“I look forward to giving the First Emperor the same treatment,” Lucian said. “Just like you, he’ll die pathetically, and the world will be a better place.”

Aurelia glanced at him in what was probably alarm, but moments later Belhazek swiped his hands fiercely and the nails on his hand projected outward like thrown daggers, forcing both of them to act. Lucian was prepared to duck behind the sarcophagus, and they bounced off it ineffectually. Belhazek followed his daggers shortly after. The devil turned into black mist, surging past those blocking him, and reappeared above Lucian with arms held wide to cleave his head in twain with freshly-regrown nails. The moment he did, Aurelia tackled him out of the air.

Belhazek flew back, Aurelia’s fangs latched onto his shoulder. When they landed on the ground, she got him into a death roll like she was some kind of crocodile. As \ golden fire spewed out of her mouth, they became a spiraling tornado of power. Before she could do substantial damage, Belhazek erupted into black mist and relocated.

This ability of Metterand’s, and later Belhazek’s, was why he was one of the most annoying bosses in the game. Whenever Belhazek was struck, he would relocate to a new position on the map. He could only do it once per turn, but sometimes it meant he could get behind lines and threaten someone that had low defense—namely, a healer. As Lucian remembered, when he’d been playing War of Four, Belhazek tended to kill Lucian a lot during that challenge run. It’d taken him many attempts to overcome this fight.

Doesn’t bode well.

Lucian followed the black mist with his eyes and when it seemed primed to coalesce once more, held out his hand and used a spell that he hadn’t used in real combat quite yet. “Fýr Ðrenn!”

His spell—a latticework projectile, rapidly shifting in on itself—surged through the air at a moderate pace, reaching the spot just as Belhazek reappeared. It struck him firmly, though the devil barely flinched. Truth was, Lucian was firing BB pellets at an M1 Abrams. The spell didn’t matter. Its effect did—it was a mini debuff, making demons more susceptible to holy damage. And every single one of the divine beasts had plenty of holy damage to go around.

Now that the initial shock of the engagement had worn off, the divine beasts all rushed toward Belhazek in tandem. Golden fire cut the air toward him. Claws aflame with it made for his flesh. Those most adept conjured weapons of pure holy energy, and they surged toward him with the aim to pierce his heart. Belhazek stood there calmly, then swiped his hands once more.

His dagger-nails swept across the battlefield in a wave, each with a well-chosen target. Some were hit in the body and sent flying backward from the ferocity of the attack. One particularly unlucky person received a dagger to the head. Their divine beast form shattered away like glass, and their human form collapsed to the ground dead. Even Aurelia skidded to a halt, bringing her nine tails to bear to conjure a golden shield. The dagger hit it straight on and sent her sliding backward with a loud clang.

And one nail headed toward Lucian. He wasn’t fast enough to dodge, and there wasn’t anyone nearby that could pull a ‘Mr. President, get down!’ No—he was on his own. But that was fine.

Lucian received the dagger in the shoulder. It hurt a hell of a lot more than Denzel’s spearwork had, but a little less than when he’d been kicked by Metterand. He ducked behind the sarcophagus, pulling it out with a pathetic-sounding groan. Why hadn’t that attack blown off his arm? The answer was simple. For one, his CON and HP had raised a fair bit after the two last blessings he’d gotten. And for two… Belhazek’s daggers were mundane projectiles. With the Wardchain and the Votive Gloves active after landing that holy spell, the total damage reduction on mundane projectiles was 83%.

Wouldn’t dare be doing this fight otherwise, Lucian thought as he healed himself.

By the time he looked up, Aurelia and Abbess Dorothea were engaging the devil. Belhazek conjured a sword of demonic energy and slashed, and Aurelia deftly parried it with a holy weapon. True to hardcore mode, dagger-nails still flew out from his hand even when the devil just did a melee attack, and they buffeted all the other divine beasts relentlessly. The demon prepared to swing the blade again, but a golden horn erupted from Aurelia’s head. She reared onto her hind legs, batting the sword aside with the horn whereafter her claws ripped into Belhazek’s chest. Aurelia’s engagement gave time for Dorothea to come from behind. The abbess’ tail turned into a holy sword, and it pierced Belhazek’s back.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Belhazek roared in rage, then burst into black smoke once more. Lucian ran toward someone that had been injured from his daggers, using their huge bulky body as a barricade to hide behind. He cast healing magic on them, and two dagger-nails clattered to the ground as his healing forced them out. If this person could survive two hits, they were formidable.

“Hey. I’ve got a deal to propose to you,” he said, holding onto the beast as it tried to stand. “Y’see, I like living. Hope you do too. Try and keep me alive, I’ll do the same for you. Deal?”

The divine beast quickly nodded.

“Good talk,” Lucian said. He stood up straight, held his hand out where Belhazek was coalescing, and chanted once more, “Fýr Ðrenn!”

This time, Lucian’s timing wasn’t so good. The devil seemed to know what the spell did, because rather than receive the pitifully weak projectile he dodged outright. Then, the demon held its hands up in the air.

“He’s gonna cast a spell,” Lucian shouted.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have shouted, because Belhazek diverted his attention to Lucian the moment his warning came out. Wisps of shadow started to dance from around the room, moving like eels gliding through the sea as they converged into a ball of malice. The darkness of his spell was so complete that it turned its surroundings black and white, eating away the color.

Then, Belhazek tossed it at Lucian.

Why does he always go for the healer?

Lucian didn’t panic. Well, he did, but he didn’t lose his composure. He grabbed the divine beast and said, “Élûn Šyrr.”

Second Sanctuary encircled his ally of convenience. If they chose to try and dodge, it was probably over for him. Thankfully, all of the people in the monastery were good-hearted people that kept to their word. His ally didn’t run from the death ball. They faced it stalwartly, bringing to bear a golden shield and bracing themselves. Lucian was too magically fatigued to cast another spell as it approached. It felt like bracing for a plane crash.

The tremendous spell struck his ally. The resulting explosion of power instantly broke their shield, shattered Lucian’s Second Sanctuary, and sent the divine beast blasting back with enough force that Lucian felt that he’d been hit by a charging bull. They tumbled backwards through the room, only coming to a stop when they both hit the wall.

Lucian looked at his ally. Worms of darkness wreathed upward from myriad cuts in their body… but the fact they hadn’t shifted back to being a human meant they were alive. Lucian himself had emerged from that mostly unharmed.

“LUCIAN!” Belhazek shouted, and Lucian whipped his head over.

The room was in utter chaos from the aftereffects of that spell. It had claimed the lives of a great many people, and countless others were damaged as badly as his protector. The reinforcements that arrived were stunned by what they saw, and afraid of the beast that had caused this carnage. Meanwhile… Belhazek looked solely at Lucian.

The devil began to tear through the room, focused on Lucian alone.

“From whence arises this knowledge of our affairs?! How did you come to read my habits as though a they were an open book? All of this has been beyond comprehension. Your continued breath invites ruin!” Belhazek shouted.

Lucian didn’t process those words fully, but it was easy to translate: 'I want you dead, bad.’

The reinforcements from the monastery were ample, and those that were most skilled had inevitably survived. The abbess bit into Belhazek’s arm, but he burst into smoke as Aurelia tried to contest him. He travelled through the air right toward Lucian, manifesting and resuming his mad charge.

“Fýr Ðrenn!” Lucian said, hitting him squarely.

Others blocked the devil from actually reaching Lucian, but Belhazek conjured another sword of demonic energy and slashed wildly. A lone dagger flew toward them. It was going to miss Lucian, but it would’ve hit his benefactor. He lunged out, taking the hit on his forearm. Another flew right at Lucian’s body, and he stood still against all his instincts. The dagger hit his chest—right side, at least, not his heart—and he collapsed backward, falling into dense fur.

Missed my calling. Should’ve been a goalie, he thought macabrely, wondering if this was the end for him.

The abbess jumped over Belhazek’s head, landing before Lucian. She slammed her divine beast form into the devil, receiving a horrid slash in return. But behind, Aurelia was waiting. All nine of her tails erupted forth, wrapped with holy magic. Each pierced through his back. As nine weapons of holy light speared him, the devil screamed in pain.

Even as Belhazek seemed fated to die, he held his hand out toward Lucian, a spell forming. One of the monastics leapt forward, the maw of their divine beast clamping down on the devil’s hand. Belhazek the Black-Tongued’s last ditch effort was thwarted. It was as if the battlefield froze briefly after that moment, permitting a quiet that allowed some few words to be uttered.

“Kill him,” the devil said. “Kill Lucian.”

Then, the devil turned to ash. Duke Clemens Metterand and his demon was no more, and Belhazek’s demonic power flew into his Inquisitor’s Mark. The cost was great. Lucian saw bodies strewn about the room. He tried to console himself with the knowledge it was fewer corpses than Metterand would’ve made had he lived, but it was difficult to see the big picture in the face of this. The abbess looked direly injured, but she would recover.

When the devil finally died, its purified essence went to the abbess. It couldn’t go to Aurelia—she wasn’t pure. Reminded of that fact, Lucian looked at her. They met eyes once again. This time, Lucian was confident that she knew what he was… or at least suspected enough to try and contest him.

Lucian reached into his satchel. A bottle had broken—its contents weren’t dangerous, fortunately—but the potion he was looking for was intact. It was a healing potion. Quite a strong one, considering Denzel had sourced it. His pain was great, but…

“Þael,” Lucian said, healing himself. His magic wasn’t good enough to fully close both wounds, but it helped him clear his head.

Meanwhile, Lucian took the healing potion and poured it into the mouth of his benefactor. In a few moments, the dark magic troubling them faded and they lifted their head and looked at him in gratitude.

“If it’s not too much trouble…” Lucian stood. “Need one last thing from you. We need to move quick, or many more could die.”

The divine beast that was his benefactor was instantly alert, thankfully. He needed to reach that ritual chamber before Aurelia did. That was the only way he got out of this.