30th of Thermidor, 1535

In a deep voice, he spoke, “I am Azephra. You have my prize, now hand it over.” With a relentless stare and a faint stench of sulfur, he crept closer. His eyes independently looked over her, “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” He grabbed Moira’s head and pulled her close, “The eyes, the arms, the legs, my handiwork is truly something special. Art such as this is lost on my associates.”

Memories from the deepest corners of Moira’s mind start flashing through her head. His cadence and visage—Moira, and all of her siblings knew of this monster.

“You are—”

“—Yes yes, the architect of your race,” Azephra smiled wildly. Each tooth in his mouth appeared to be from a different animal or monster—Moira noticed he also had a full set of black fangs, just like her. “So many of my creations have blinked out of existence as quickly as I made them, but twenty years and you have persisted. Quite commendable. Only three other races have made it this long.”

Moira was petrified as the devil’s hand wrapped around her neck. Despite being choked, she kept Darcy’s soul safe in between her hands. Azephra’s grin soured, “Unlike the Goddess Maelonya—” His grip tightened, “—I will not hesitate to kill my children.” Moira flailed her legs helplessly in a vain attempt to push him away.

The debris from above shifted revealing an opening and bathing the room with light. His pupils dilated to the point where they were indistinguishable specks in his eyes. Azephra recoiled. He let go of Moira's neck and reflexively shielded his eyes. Moira slammed all of her legs into the devil's chest and then scrambled up through the opening.

“Moi—” Oleander was partway through his call before Moira shot up and ran past everyone.

“—Run!” Moira screamed.

“I thought you said you subdued the puppeteer!” Oleander called to the frantic spiderkin.

Azephra erupted through the opening made by the Red Wolves and landed on top of a nearby plum tree. Oleander, Cormag, Ivy, Marcel, and Garrison were all dumbfounded at the creature standing ten meters away from them. Azephra squatted down and then launched himself at a frightening speed towards Moira. He grabbed the back of her neck and pinned her to the ground.

“If you don’t value your own life then, what about your mother’s life?” The words slithered into Moira’s ear, “All my art is worth its weight in gold, but these souls are truly priceless. Collecting your mother’s debt would net me two souls by the end of the day if I so chose.”

Moira relented. Once in Azephra’s hands, the soul coursed with black and dark blue energy. The white strand orbiting the soul started to distort and almost tear itself apart. “Avarice, lust, and wrath have nothing on loneliness.” Saliva dribbled down his chin as his jaw unhinged like a snake. Just before the flickering soul met his lips, a burst of green energy slashed diagonally across Azephra’s back. The soul fell to the ground as his body tensed up. An attack like that would’ve split open a normal person’s back, but to Azephra it only left a narrow cut with droplets of blood seeping out. It still stung. “A blessing?”

The devil spun around to face the source of the wind-based attack. Oleander and Garrison instead appeared right in front of the devil with their forearms outstretched. They hit Azephra with a double lariat and sent him spinning in midair. The two burly hunters slid to a stop beside Moira.

“You alright, Moira?” Oleander asked.

She nodded, but Oleander could see where Azephra dug his claws into her face. Garrison took one look at Moira’s arms and the exposed bottom half of her legs, and then looked over to Azephra and sneered, “Look, tell your little she-devil to get out of the way.”

Azephra scrambled back up to his feet. He chuckled, “The stench of humans…and a goblin too. I could use a bit of fun before a nice meal.” Oleander cocked his shotgun while Garrison readied his morningstar.

The devil spoke a word, but it sounded distorted to everyone’s ears. Black flames engulfed his hands. He pointed his right palm towards Oleander, Moira, and Garrison, and then discharged a large burst of flames in a cone projection. Garrison jumped clear. Oleander grabbed Moira’s arm and got them both out of the way with only the corner of Moira’s dress getting caught. She immediately tried whacking it out with a stick, but the flames didn’t dissipate. Moira threw off her disguise before the flames could spread. Oleander saw Moira favor one of her arms and motioned for her to get to safety.

Azephra reached into one of the pouches attached to his belt. He pulled out a black, glassy octahedron with a bright green signum symbol inside of it. Oleander and Garrison readied themselves. Cormag squinted his eyes and immediately raised the alarm, “That’s not a normal philosopher stone!”

Azephra shattered the stone in his hands. In an instant, both he and Moira swapped places. Stunned, Oleander turned to where Moira initially was and was met with a haymaker across the jaw. Two more quick connections sent Oleander reeling back, but he swung his shotgun around and fired two slug rounds into the devil’s chest. The shots took the wind out of Azephra’s lungs, but the bullets did not penetrate his skin.

“You’ll have to try much harder than that,” Azephra mocked.

A brief scent caught his nose as he saw Oleander dig into one of his pouches. Salt. Blessed salt. Oleander lobbed a handful of salt forward, narrowly missing Azephra as he rushed to the side. He spoke another word that no one else's ears could interpret, and this time his hands turned into massive snake heads. Azephra sent his arms forward and both heads bit down on Oleander’s left leg. Oleander doubled over in searing pain. The devil then lifted Oleander off his feet, swung him in the air, and sent him flying over towards Moira.

Garrison charged in. Azephra cocked his head and returned his right hand back to normal. He spoke the word that produced the black flames. Since Garrison was running directly towards him, Azephra hardly had to put any effort into aiming. He grinned as he fired a second conal projection of fire. As the flames dissipated, a massive spike ball parted the cone.

Azephra was surprised and took a step back, “Another Blessing?!”

Garrison lifted his now-massive morningstar up and then tried to slam it down onto Azephra. The devil chuckled as he raised his right hand up to catch it; he expected the spike ball to weigh next to nothing because of it expanding. His expression changed once the colossal weight met his hand. Azephra had to change back his left hand in order to keep the morning star in place.

“This is your only warning, get out of here before I flatten you,” Garrison commanded.

“Bold words human—”

“—The name’s Garrison, Leader of the Red Wolves.”

“Red Wolves?” One of Azephra’s eyes rolled back into his head, “Oh, I’ve heard of you. You did a number on Trozimek a few years back.”

“You’ll have to refresh my memory, he’s not the only devil we beat into submission,” Garrison remarked.

“Such bravado.” Despite the weight pushing down on Azephra, his fingers were starting to crack through the morning star’s head, “Borrowed power like this is no match for usurped power, like mine.”

Garrison changed his stance and the placement of his hands on his weapon’s handle. Azephra felt his hands burning. He looked up to see the morning star turn this radiant, deep orange color as it slowly melted on top of him. Scanning his immediate area, Azephra reached down for another philosopher’s stone in his pocket, crushed it, and then swapped places with Garrison.

The spike ball exploded into a burst of molten iron that rained all over the ground. Azephra howled with laughter but was surprised to see Garrison standing fine. “I know how to control my blessing, even when it melts.” Both of them struggled for control of the morningstar’s handle, but because of the significant burns across Azephra’s hands, Garrison won back control.

*****

“Herr Swine, are you alright?”

Oleander struggled to get back to his feet. The stinging in his left leg was agonizing, but he powered through it. “I’ll live. Look, do you know where the children are?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, take Ivy and get the children out of here. Out of everyone here, you two don’t have anything that’ll scratch a devil.”

“Neither do you,” Moira pointed out.

Oleander tossed the pouch he used to store his shotgun shells and his salt pouch over to Moira, “Get creative.”

“Right, just make sure Azephra doesn’t take that soul. P-please.” She pointed to the little blue flame resting helplessly out in the open. Of course, devils getting their hands on souls is generally something a hunter would strive to stop, but this look of concern on Moira’s face felt different. Oleander nodded. They split up with Oleander rejoining the fight with Garrison, and Moira returning to Ivy, Cormag, and Marcel. Moira grabbed Ivy by the arm and led her back into the cluttered tunnel system. Cormag helped the exhausted Marcel towards the fray.

*****

Once inside the main tunnel area, Ivy kicked and shoved debris out of the way in order to reach the children. While hustling right behind Ivy, Moira cut a slit into Oleander’s last shotshell and poured in as much salt as she could before it started overflowing. It stung her hands, but she persevered through the pain. She generated some stickier thread and spun it around the shell to seal it up. She just hoped that the shell would fire correctly now.

Moira directed Ivy through the tunnel system until they found an iron door. Ivy slammed her hands against the door, “Sibilla, Teddy, Roth, Taesha, are any of you in there?”

A scared child’s voice called back, “Go away! Keep those wires away from us!”

“This is Police Captain Irene Bushnell, we’re here to bring you all home.” Ivy tried pulling at the door, but it appeared locked from the inside.

A latch from the other side unlocked and Sibilla slowly opened the door. Relief quickly turned to fear as all the human children ran to the back of the room at the sight of Moira. Moira wasn’t surprised, but what did confuse her were the looks of absolute joy from the two Kassedian children.

“Rinisa!” The Kassedian children happily chanted as they playfully tugged at Moira’s free arm.

Moira shot Ivy a confused look and was met with a shrug back. “Shh, shh don’t worry. Miss Moira is here to help you.” The two youngest children, Hilda and Catherine, ran up to Ivy and embrace a leg each. They were both sobbing, scared, and desperately wanted to go home.

“Alright,” Ivy stated, “I want all of you to stay as close to me as possible. There’s a big scary man out there, and if we’re quick enough and quiet enough, we can get by without him seeing us. Alright?”

Ivy waited until she saw all the kids nod. The two Kassedian children stared blankly at Ivy.

“Aya ni elja,” Roth spoke back.

“Uh…” Ivy paused, “Vo-voso Morriganese?”

The two Kassedian children shook their heads. The last thing Ivy wanted was a language barrier, but Moira had a quick solution. She scooped up Taesha and Roth under her two lower arms and led the way out. The two Kassedian children were having the time of their lives being whisked away by Moira. The remaining six children formed a cluster around Ivy.

Instead of trying to lift and carry out the children through the entrance made by Oleander, Moira led the group out through the entrance from where the barn used to be. As they closed in on the exit, a parade of gunfire could be heard.

“The rest of the police have shown up,” Ivy remarked, “They’ll provide cover for us—”

*****

Garrison, with the pole of his morningstar, and Oleander, with his bare hands, rushed at Azephra. Garrison tried to sweep Azephra’s feet out from under him, but the mobility granted by his four spider legs made that impossible. Oleander tried to get in close so he could throw punches at his face and chest, but Azephra would turn his fists into snakes and push him away. Even with Garrison being able to extend his pole’s reach, he was barely able to land any direct hits.

Cormag flipped open his stamp container and pressed the signum symbol for his blood bolt on his palm. Instead of immediately adding blood to it, he looked over to Marcel. The goblin asked, “Still got some fight left in you?”

Marcel, finally able to regain some stamina after his capture, started coalescing wind energy into his rapier.

“The moment Oleander and Garrison get that devil to use his black fire attack, hit him with all you got. He can’t reach us from here. I don’t think his signum-position-swapping can either, or else he would’ve swapped with one of us earlier to get some distance.”

Garrison reached back and swung the pole of his morning star at Azephra. The devil caught it with his right hand; he transformed his left hand into a snake again and let it coil up the shaft in order to bite Garrison. The Red Wolves’s leader jerked back, narrowly avoiding the snake’s fangs, but also letting go of his weapon in the process.

Oleander rushed in, or as best he could, his left leg felt stiff and his speed was cut down tremendously. Oleander connected with one single, solid punch; Azephra’s slid back across the ground. “Not bad, most people would’ve perished from my poison by now—” Azephra squinted and noticed his black venom was trickling out of Oleander’s mouth.

“Do you really think that was the first snake bite I’ve ever had?” Oleander remarked snidely.

Azephra sneered. He pointed both of his palms out towards Garrison and Oleander, “You two have entertained me enough, but I have much more important things to attend to.” Black flames swirled around Azephra’s hands. Just before he could launch his next attack, Garrison tensed up his hand and the morningstar’s pole flew back to him. He turned to Oleander, pressed the end of his morningstar against his abdomen, and then snapped his finger. The morningstar extended at both ends, pushing Garrison and Oleander out of the way of the blasts of fire.

“Now!” Cormag yelled.

“Devil! You will learn to fear the Orkanmesser!” Marcel extended his hand and let go of his rapier. It did not fall. It floated just inches from his palm. It began to spin faster and faster until a sudden massive wind tunnel burst from the sword. It traveled the distance of the battlefield straight towards Azephra.

The devil squatted down and launched himself to the side. The wind tunnel was fast, but not fast enough to swallow him up. A flash of light then caught Azephra’s eye, and then a massive clap of thunder echoed through the battlefield as a red electrical blast erupted out of the goblin’s hand. Azephra reached into his pocket for his second-to-last philosopher stone and shattered it in his hand.

At that moment, to Azephra, everything moved at a snail’s pace, except for his eyes and the electrical blast. Frantically scanning his surroundings, the closest objects still next to him were Oleander and Garrison. He looked at Oleander and strange green energy outlined each of them. The space around each of them went dark, and then suddenly they had swapped positions. The moment ended.

Oleander stared down Cormag’s strongest attack and braced for impact. But since Cormag fired his burst of electricity so close to Marcel’s wind tunnel, the lightning bolt veered into the tunnel before it could strike Oleander. Once in the mass of swirling winds, the lightning bolt started to spiral out of control and pick up tremendous speed.

Not only did Oleander and Azephra switch positions, but they also switched momentum as well. Oleander was launched into Garrison, who wasn’t moving fast enough to avoid him. The two burly men tumbled across the ground. Across the field, Marcel’s rapier fell to the ground once all the green energy around it faded away—he also dropped to one knee.

Azephra scuttled forward towards the soul. Partway, he was met with a hail of gunfire. Ten police officers, five shooting first, reloading, and then having the other five shoot and then reload.

Oleander looked on with annoyance if a close-range shotgun blast did nothing to this devil, what would their rifles honestly do. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Moira, Ivy, and all the children escape from the tunnels and run towards the mass police officers. Ivy grabbed the five officers currently reloading their rifles and commanded them to take the children and rush them back to within the city. She took one of their guns and joined the other five officers shooting at the devil. Moira dropped the two Kassedian children and immediately rushed towards Oleander.

Cormag fired off another blood bolt at Azephra to keep him at bay, but the devil wasn’t going to be caught by surprise this time. He jumped over the bolt with ease. Cormag slumped over like Marcel—a numbness was creeping up his arm.

Azephra noticed Moira running, transformed his left arm into a snake again, and stretched it out as far as he could in order to catch her. The massive snake jaw caught her in the stomach and slammed her into one of the many plum trees. It felt like her back had been crushed and her lungs had deflated. Moira was then pulled back towards Azephra.

“You know what. I might’ve been rash earlier. I won’t kill you. I’m going to let you live, on this one condition—” Azephra picked up the fragile piece of Darcy’s humanity, “—I want you to tell your mother what you saw today. I want you to show her the fear, the pain, and the submission I can impose on anyone. Now, watch me ascend one step closer to Godhood.”

Azephra’s left hand retracted and then caught Moira by the throat and pinned her to the ground. She was helpless to stop this monstrosity from devouring Darcy’s soul.

Azephra’s jaw unhinged and he swallowed it up in one bite. The possibility of an afterlife for Darcy to be with her child again was gone in the blink of an eye. Tears streamed down Moira’s face in anger and frustration. She bared her fangs and emptied every drop of venom she had left into his arm. The devil appeared unphased by her bite.

A black sphere of energy, starting from his abdomen and radiating outward, engulfed Azephra. The instant the sphere touched Moira, it sent her flying. The battered monster hunter dove to catch her. Everyone looked out in horror as the devil was encased in a twenty-foot diameter dark cocoon. The silhouette of Azephra inside started to contort and shift violently.

Oleander felt a tugging on his shirt and looked down. Barely conscious, Moira briefly spoke, “Destroy him.” From one of the pockets of her dress, she pulled out the salted shotgun shell.