Rise of the Devourer
Book 2: Chapter 36 — Favours to the Dead

Erwest felt the jarring sensation of teleportation surrounding him, before vanishing in a blink. Sounds of wildlife filled his ears, as he found his bearings looking around himself. Glancing around, he noted the lack of his companions.

Drawing his sword, Erwest began to take stock of his environment. Had Vix sent them into a trap? He had taken a gamble agreeing to work with the woman, and he was starting to wonder if the choice had been wrong. He wished he could reach out to the All-Mother, to ask Hellion to guide him through to the path of justice, but his mission demanded secrecy of him. He could not reach out to her, not yet. Not before he’d found the root of the Abyssal cult and eradicated their filthy spell.

After a few wary minutes, Erwest lowered his guard, but kept the blade equipped in his hand. Perhaps the teleportation had been interrupted as some form of defense from Rift. Regardless, there did not seem to be an ambush waiting for him. Taking a look around, Erwest watched the alien forest in front of him. The sky above was purple, white clouds hanging low, and he wondered just how a sky could exist at all within a rift, but the rules of the Astral were far beyond him, and he was no scholar.

Moving through the foliage, Erwest noticed sounds of sobbing coming from nearby. Raising his blade, wary of a trap, he made his way closer towards the sound. The foliage began to pull back, revealing ruins. Broken walls, shacks and huts showed the place used to be a village.

A chilly wind flowed over Erwest’s neck as he spun around, finding a pale woman standing behind him, tears running down her cheeks. Her ears were pointed, little feathers cresting her body, but she had no beak like a Harpy. A half-blood, or one of the humanoid tribes with beastial race boons. Erwest studied her features, only realising a moment later that the woman was translucent.

Spirit Remnant level 23

The woman continued to cry where she stood, not paying any attention to Erwest. Her feet were bound to a pillar with ropes, with marks of ropes and scrapes running across her body. Erwest looked down beneath him at the grassy earth, realizing it was likely where her body was buried. There was no grave, nothing but earth to hold her.

Erwest looked up at the woman, putting his sword back in its sheath. He stood silently for a moment, wondering if he should move on. The dead that lingered had much to regret, but it was not his job to interfere. He was not a priest, he was paladin, the blade of his mother, and he was here for a purpose. This was a distraction.

Erwest turned, ready to step away when, to his surprise, Noah’s face came to his mind. The man, young, immature, foolish and ignorant as he may be, would likely have jumped up to help the dead spirit, despite having no relation to her whatsoever. He also would’ve likely made things worse if left to his own devices.

With almost a defeated sigh, finding his own actions continuing to surprise him, Erwest turned back around.

“Why are you crying,” he asked the woman, feeling his irritation growing at her sobs.

The woman continued to cry, sniffling and gasping for air though she had no body anymore. But she clung onto the illusions of life. It would not take much to turn her into a wraith, or any other kind of sinister undead, the right words, the right whispers and a touch of magic.

But for now, for better or worse, she was untouched, and merely a spirit.

“I… I…” the woman gasped, failing to speak up.

Erwest watched her break down into cries again, and he started to regret his choice. Still, he had chosen. Gently, he placed his hand on her shoulder. He could not touch the woman, but the mimicking action would have her responding nonetheless. The woman slowly looked up at him for the first time, her eyes red, and Erwest noticed her face was scarred, a blade’s mark running across her cheeks.

That was no beast’s mark, someone had intentionally scarred this woman.

“I… I’m sorry,” the spirit said, shivering as she looked up at him.

“Stand up,” Erwest commanded.

The young woman let out an eep, but she rose, standing up straight. Erwest noticed the ropes tying her feet restricting her posture, keeping her at an awkward bend. Her feet had been shaped by the ropes, twisting from their bad posture.

“Why are you crying,” he asked again.

“I… my father… and brother… they didn’t die… they didn’t…” the woman trailed off, her eyes distant as if reliving an old memory.

“They didn’t die, you say. What happened to them?” Erwest asked.

The spirit snapped out of her daze at his question, refocusing. “The… men came, lied. Promised to help us. They killed everybody… but… not all of us. My brother and father fought… and they got captured. Turned into… into those monsters… Please… please help them. I can hear them crying… please give them peace,” the woman begged, crying once again.

Erwest looked back at the village, now noticing the destruction of the ruins was not all old or accrued over time. Something had been breaking the place apart.

“You said men. Who were they?” Erwest asked.

“I don’t know… they… they had official crests. We had been here for so long, the outside world had very little contacts with us. But they said they could bring us out, give us new lives in the real world…”

“A pretty lie. You said official crest. Of what kind?”

“I don’t know… someone important. Please… they have been suffering for so long… please help them,” the woman begged. “I have nothing to give… but I will tell you anything you want in return.”

“I will, but first tell me. What had the men wanted? Did they tell you?”

“No… but we figured it out. They were looking for something in the Lord’s castle. But they didn’t know, the Lord had died decades ago, and the place is guarded by his familiar. They couldn’t enter, they didn't know the way. But we did, and they wanted to find out. Learn how to sneak past the dragon.”

Erwest froze at the woman’s words. “There’s a dragon guarding the castle?”

The woman nodded.

“You said you knew how to slip past the dragon, yes?” Erwest asked. The woman nodded again. “If I kill the beast, will you tell me?”

“I will. I swear on my soul,” the woman said, touching her chest.

Erwest nodded. “Very well.”

Turning around, he headed towards the ruins with his blade drawn. It did not take much time for Erwest to notice the void mana traces present in the village. Lifeforce was thin in the area, the earth beneath his feet cracked, dry and dead, a drastic contract to the lush forest around them.

A little creature crawled out from beneath a collapsed building, screeching. Erwest moved swiftly, as he slashed through the creature, killing it.

You have slain a Voidling level 38.

Hellion’s light graces your Path.

He looked down in disgust at the creature as it dissolved into motes of dark mana under his aura. He had suspected the men had been cultists, this confirmed it. At least he knew what he’d be getting into.

Erwest moved along, taking note of the little sounds coming from the many buildings around him. Another voidling leapt at him from the underside of a broken roof, almost latching onto his face. A swift slash from his blade skewered the beast, before Erwest crushed it under his foot.

More creatures drew closer from the sounds, and Erwest began to move faster. If he was right, there was likely a Blood Horror lurking around in this territory. He needed to take it out before the rest of the creatures could interrupt him.

Heading further into the ruins, Erwest found his way to a central area within the village, a place that looked like it might’ve been a gathering place for villagers. In there, Erwest saw his target. A giant hulking grotesque creature, eating on the carcass of a dead beast with its many hands.

Blood Grafted Horror level 162.

It had been some time since he had to fight abyssal creatures. And Erwest almost found himself more relaxed in the situation. This was what he had trained to do, this was what he was meant to do. Not all this sneaking around, not these politics, and baby sitting of an annoying outerworlder.

This. Killing these filthy cretins, destroying them. He was the goddess’ blade, this was his purpose.

Tapping into powers he’d missed having, Hellion’s golden aura enveloped him, as he felt the weight of her own justice now resting upon his shoulder. He could almost see her, standing behind him, a part of his being, and watching over his steps. He’d been feeling mother Hellion’s wishes much more keenly ever since she had made him a vessel, yet up till now he had not had the chance to truly see what that had meant.

Every void creature nearby hissed and shrieked at the light. Many of the Voidlings ran from the light, evaporating just from a glimpse at the All-mother.

The blood horror chewed on the corpse, glancing at Erwest as it, too, shielded its eyes from the light. Its many limbs lashed out, but Erwest was faster. His blade slashed, cutting through the front arms with bony scythe like appendiges. The creature shrieked in pain, slamming its arms as it swung at Erwest, but found its swings only hitting air.

The creatured howled, picking up the body it had been eating as it threw it at Erwest to block his view. Erwest slashed through the carcass, dashing forward towards the horror. The monster slammed its hand onto the earth, shaking the ground as its main hands picked up boulders around it, throwing them at Erwest.

The gut of the abomination began to bloat, pulling in air rapidly. A moment later, the creatured vomited burning acid all over. Erwest rolled, dodging the acid, but the horror crawled forward on its arms, rushing him. Erwest’s blade slashed, cutting through an arm, but the beast was larger, its body weight throwing Erwest back.

The horror did not stop, leaping at him where Erwest had fallen. The paladin rolled, dodging the attack, before raising his weapon up as he grabbed it in both arms.

Hellion’s golden light gathered at Erwest’s blade, as he slammed his blade onto the earth, crouching down.

“Oh great mother of light, bringer of justice, give me strength to slay evil in your name.”

A golden aura enveloped Erwest, the light spreading outwards in a circle, granting him strength while also eating through the monster’s health. Hellion’s visage hung behind Erwest, watching over him, as his blade lit up with a golden aura.

Erwest slashed, a golden arc cutting through the beast as it slashed through a chunk of its body, immediately vaporising it into black mist. The creature howled in pain, twisting and rolling on the ground.

Moving closer, Erwest looked at the horror wailing like a child with disgust and pity. Its body was twisting, eating through its own energy, and if he gave it time, the monster would transform and heal its injury. But he did not intend to do any such thing.

Raising his blade, Erwest plunged it into the beast, letting Hellion’s light fill the creature. A golden aura covered the beast’s inside, its body glowing, with cracks opening that leaked light out into the world. With a final howl, the blood horror dissipated into dark mist, breaking apart entirely.

You have slain a Blood Grafted Horror level 162.

Hellion’s light graces your Path.

Erwest looked down at the ground, closing his eyes.

“May your spirit find rest in the mother’s embrace,” he whispered, letting the blessing sink into the air. Stepping forward, behind the collapsed buildings where the horror was, Erwest began to dig through the ruins before he found what he was looking for.

A pulsating heart remained nearby, dark red runes running outwards from it. This was what had caused the void creatures to slip the gaps and come here. The collected lifeforce from all those villagers.

Erwest took his blade, cutting the disgusting organ open, as blood flowed freely. A burst of lifeforce erupted outwards, flowing into the air and out to the world. Silently, Erwest looked back at the village. The void creatures would die on their own over time without a source sustaining them.

He looked down at his arms for a moment, before closing his eyes. As good as this had felt, he still had a mission. Light glowed around Erwest for a moment, before his Paladin path vanished once more, taking the golden aura with it.

Turning back around, he made his way back out of the village, feeling oddly light hearted. As he walked out, he saw the woman waiting for him, her form looked a little clearer now.

“I have done as you have asked,” Erwest replied.

The woman bowed deeply. “Thank you. Thank you so much. My family knows peace at last.” Raising her head, Erwest saw the woman look at him and give a smile. Her cheeks did not move correctly, the scar on her face distorting her features a little, yet… something about the smile made Erwest feel peaceful. “As promised I’ll tell you how to get past the dragon. The Lord had made tunnels to dig for mana crystals. Most of them are dead ends, but if you look closely, you will see a single arrow pointing downwards, with a circle carved in the walls of some. These caverns lead to a pathway deep inside, that will connect to the bottom layer of the castle. You can enter from there.”

Erwest nodded to the woman. “Thank you, that will help.”

Ready to step out, something held him back as he turned towards the spirit. “What do you intend to do now? Your ties to this place have been severed.”

The spirit looked at him, and then down at her. “My feet are tied, and I am bound to this place. I thought maybe if you killed my father, I would be free too but that does not seem to be the case.”

“I could banish you, if you wish,” Erwest replied.

“No… no. I want to stay. This place is dear to me. Perhaps I can restore it a little, though I do not know how yet,” she said, raising her hands, as she made them go through the tree next to her.

“Then I bid you farewell, spirit,” Erwest said, turning away.

“Wait!”

Erwest paused.

“Morlina,” the spirit said. “I remembered. My name is Morlina. What’s your name?”

“Erwest Ivan,” Erwest replied.

“I will remember it, Erwest. Thank you, for helping me.” Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ NøᴠᴇlFire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Erwest nodded, walking away from the spirit. A little light shone in his chest, as words lit up in front of him.

Hellion’s Paladin has reached level 159.

He looked at the words of light in confusion, unsure why it had come now, and not when he had beaten the monster? He looked up at the sky, trying to see if the goddess was perhaps playing some tricks on him, but found nothing he could see within the purple skies.

A message then perhaps? He did not know, but it did not matter right now. He’d found more information, now he needed to find the others, and enter this castle.

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