Chapter 78: Unchallenged

"All that's left."​

Sprinting ahead— winding down another turn in the labyrinth— the walls are shockingly steep. The floor curves in where it isn't covered in grates, murals, and in depictions of demons and runes that you scarcely understand. The water underfoot (as filthy as it is), is a welcome cover for the numerous traps that your ally is spawning behind you all. You're breathing so hard you can scarcely reply, but you manage to keep the pace. The archdemon is culling an army as best as he's able, but you know it's not enough.

You take hold of your Relic— and with another, grab firmly onto the demon's hand.

"Richard—!"

"Do you trust me?!"

"Of course, that's not the fucking point—!"

You have to pull away again to duck and to cover your head as you run. A javelin soars overhead, thanks to the sorcerer being distracted for even the briefest of moments from protecting you. You know he's giving this everything he has, too.

Ray's panting is intense beside you, but he's keeping the pace as you all charge ahead.

You all tear down another passage with the sound of Offala's footsteps rapidly approaching. The ground is trembling. Water surges behind you.

"Do you trust me?!"

"YES, FINE, JUST FUCKING DO IT!"

You tear off the chain around your neck, clasping the Relic firmly between your palms. There's no need for prayer. This is your vessel.

There's a blinding light, darkness, and death. There is gold and green in the surge of water. A pulse devastates the surrounding area. Its echo slams against the walls, while your Relic thrums. The explosion of confetti, of leaves, of flowers, and of celebration threatens to take the world out from you. You hold so tightly onto your companion— your ally— as the detonation blasts hundreds of yards around you both that there is no threat of ever having the world give way again.

Strips of colored, golden paper and flowers fall in the rupture's wake. The water around you both completely abates for only a moment. The floor of the waterway is covered in runes. There's hundreds upon thousands of names written beneath your feet. You strongly suspect that these are the demons that inhabit the world below the surface, but there's no time for observation.

The light, the gold, and so much growth courses through you, your friend, and the waterway. There's a demon at your hand who's positively glowing. He beams at you, imbued with your blessing and light. You realize you're enamored in death, in liquor, in decay and in sin, too.

You're smiling.

The water surges back, and Ray with it. Your mastiff is utterly soaked to the bone, but remains unscathed by the blessing of Mercy.

There's a pause, and a moment of hesitation from the army behind you. The water coursed over them as well, washing dozens into the pitfalls and deeper still. Screams can still be heard of those plummeting into the lower levels of the ruins.

You and Yech both turn to run once more— parting hands, but maintaining an unshakable bond. You don't need to speak to him for him to understand. There's a tie, a hold, and an alliance so firm between you two that it might as well be made of gold.

You don't need to call out to him, but you want to, just to hear what he has to say. "I'll be the bait—!"

"You fucking lunatic!"

"Keep up the smoke! Keep up the traps— we'll wear them down—!"

"These bastards don't have shit on us—"

"Who needs an army—?"

"I've got something better!"

You trail behind the archdemon, refastening the golden chain bearing your alliance and promise. You don't dare to spin around to meet the thundering footsteps head on, but you give the demon enough space and time.

"RAY! FOLLOW HIM— GO!"

Your mastiff charges ahead, keeping pace with your mutual friend. You've never been so grateful to have let someone else watch after him.

There's a burst of gold and of light behind you. There's heat, and the deep impression of a demon that can give himself utterly to you. It's stronger than anything you've felt before.

You dare to whip your head around as you run, only to see a colossal pit drop from the center of the corridor you've charged through. It's so wide that the majority of the demons have to stop completely.

Yech is still charging forward, dragging spikes of flowered vines out of the walls, and skewering everyone that's dared to stay behind.

Offala backs up. You actually skid to a stop, as you lay eyes on her properly for the first time in weeks. She's haggard and sickly, obviously still recovering from you punching a hole straight through her side and sending a javelin through the underside of her carapace. The humanoid tail is screaming orders, barking for her demons to find a way around and to head you both off.

She's also fearless and insane, getting ready to leap over the pit centipede-end first.

You have a blessed moment before she takes the leap. You know Yech is readying something to strike her if she tries.

Music

You hold your ground, trusting in your ally and your friend.

He sweeps up a barrier with a wall of vines and golden flowers, deflecting a rain of arrows before you. They're snapped in an instant.

The barrier falls.

There's no need to speak to the Goddess for Her to hear your plea.

You extend your hands to the demon on the other side of the chasm.

Offala feints. Rather than leaping, the demon begins to descend— clinging onto the sheer walls— and scaling straight down the pit that Yech has created.

You extend your blessing to her, seizing her body, and stopping her motion. The prayer you want to say catches in your throat, as you realize what you've done.

You are Merciful. She's paralyzed. She can't scream, can't move, can't think, can't feel.

Dozens of vines, of spears, of flowers and of death puncture her. They retract again in an instant.

A single, minor demon is no match for an archdemon and a man of the Gods. She was a fool to have ever tried to defy you both.

The demon plunges down to the depths of the world. Not even an army can stop you. Not with you working together.

You don't yet hear a crash. She's still falling as the demons behind her previous location— stunned beyond belief— look to you with abject fear.

Yech stops running, spinning on his heel, turning to you and laughing hideously. "YOU DID IT, YOU FUCKING LEGEND—"

He's running towards you, brimming with light, with gold. The archdemon. Unchallenged.

The demons on the other side of the pit are backing up. A few are still bristling, but they're all looking to you and to your ally as you mirror one another. You're dripping with liquor, with a bond to this monster, who's staring upon his followers with lethal intent.

He told you once before of how he killed his own men. Of his generosity. Of his Catalyst. The archdemon looks out upon the traitors, the liars, and the blasphemers before you. He places a hand on your shoulder, glowing with your blessing, your alliance, and your word.

He smiles to you. "Nice job! Let's fucking finish this."

There's finally the thunder and echo of Offala collapsing at the end of the world.

There's a sour taste on your tongue, and it's not from the liquor.

With as much conviction as you can possibly muster, you place a hand on Yech's shoulder. Your smile is pained, your victory bittersweet. You've guided this demon into a position of leadership. The least you can do is guide him a little further. "We did it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"We won."

"Shut the fuck up, Richard."

"No, really. We did it. She's gone. Offala—" Your smile wanes, replaced with something much, much more sinister. "Nehliht, too."

"You hold your fucking tongue, Richard—"

"Mondost, for all his sorcery. He rivaled yours, didn't he?"

"I swear, you'd better fucking shut it—"

"I killed Tsilorm, without question— didn't you say he deserved it, too? Just like Offala?"

"Well— yeah, but that's besides the point—"

"Idonea's gone, too."

Yech looks at you with so much disgust that you almost pull away, but you hold your ground.

"They all are. There aren't a whole lot of demons left in the ruins to challenge you, are there? Remigius is following you without question. I've granted Beltoro restraint. You're all that's left at the top. Isn't that right?"

Yech is, for once, silent.

Your grimace and the memory of so much slaughter softens. "It would be a shame for no one to be left, Yech. No one left to give to."

"...you might have a point."

"Wouldn't you rather give them your leadership? Your gifts? All of your generosity, in a more enduring form?"

"I mean— shut the fuck up, Richard. This is stupid. You're being stupid. They're traitors—"

You look out to the demons across the ravine. They're all looking to you with something more than fear.

It's respect. They know you're saving their lives. "They've stayed their hands, Yech. They want to live. Will you give this gift to them? I can't think of a greater display of generosity—"

"NO, RICHARD, FUCK OFF—"

"I know you want to give me, something, too. Yech. You want to say good-bye, don't you?"

The skeleton stiffens, silencing himself again in an instant.

You know he respects you. "Yech. Give them this Mercy. Uphold our alliance, all— all the promises you've made to me. Give me this, this one last gift. Please."

Yech reminds you terribly of the first letter you received from him. The tantrum. An utter disregard for decency. You had forgotten that he is still ultimately a demon— yet he still continues to surprise you. He barks to his minions, his underlings— his own demons— from a safe distance. "I'll suffer you all to live, but stay your fucking hands! Go back to your pits, your city, your ruins. I'll sort you all out in my own fucking time. We've got business to attend to!"

There's hesitation, as if they expect him to attack at any moment.

He clenches a fist, sending a shower of confetti, and draping a banner instantaneously over the ravine. The explosion scatters at least a dozen of the horns, the wings, the leather and spikes.

The monsters look to the conjuration with abject terror. It's double-sided, and you can't help but smile at it. In bright color, the festive paper shouts "FUCK OFF."

There's a scattering from the last of the riot, as the collective of demons across the pit obey their master's command.

Yech looks to you apologetically. "You deserve better than all of this."

"I know."

"I'm sorry. Can you do me a favor, though?"

You pull back for a moment, hesitant.

"Calm the fuck down, Richard. I just want to see your flask."

Through the chaos and the battle, your bag has miraculously stayed on your frame. You suspect it might be the fault of a charm, but you fish through your things without any hesitation, and hand the item back to the archdemon. He makes a scratching motion in the air. One more check mark embeds itself deeply in the underside of the gold and wood.

It all seems extremely tasteless, but you appreciate his reverence, and that the demon can still show enough restraint to stay his hand.

You drop your hands, drop the tension through every fiber of your body, drop the Relic from your grasp and permit the gold to hang over your heart. With a flash and a flood, your blessing falls in an instant from you and your ally. The liquor, the darkness, the gold, the green all vanishes into the air. Exhaustion is left in its wake.

You practically collapse, staggering forward, unable to stand on your own two feet without the gifts of the Gods. Yech stumbles as well, taken aback by the sudden absence of divinity and your light.

"Hey! Easy there—" He staggers, catching you, and holding you both upright.

There's a faint rumbling, and the sound of countless demons retreating. Ray is at your side, panting hard from exertion. He's trembling from the explosion, the battle, the trauma and your obvious discomfort.

Your pain mounts rapidly, but you manage to stay on your feet— held together by an archdemon and your dog.

You throw your arms over Yech's shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He hugs you back. You can hear the grin through his exposed teeth. "Let's get you out of here."