Dead Reckoning II

Number of times König Geistdunkelrustung has resurrected: 10

As he prepared to fight for his ‘life’, Geist wasn’t all too surprised when only Inessa showed. While they had been arriving together most of the time, it was expected that, from time to time, especially if they were not together, one would be slightly delayed. Though this was the first time Inessa arrived before Lylia.

Shoring up his guard, he prepared to defend himself when Inessa did something unexpected. “Gesity, Lia told me not to talk to you, but I just wanted you to know we’ve decided that both of us coming to kill you every day is a bit overkill. We’ll be alternating weeks coming to kill you from now on, okay?”

“Wh-What? Wait, is that all I am to you? An inconveni–?!” Geist began to say, only for Inessa to blitz him with a use of Storm of Blades, dicing his body to pieces in one efficient move.

“Hmm… Well, maybe to Lia you are,” the brunette mused playfully as she waited for him to revive. “But you give me an excuse to avoid creepy or horny nobles from trying to ‘court’ me.” She added with a smile.

[Schattenrustung effect: Cast Reanimate, activated]
[Dark Magic Corruption: 39/100]

Though his face lacked the features to express a wide range of emotions, the deadpan look in the glowing pools of light shining from within his helmet, where his eye would be, was difficult to misread. “Oh, goody. Glad to be of some hel–”

“Nobody likes a Demon Monarch with a smart mouth, Geisty.” She said playfully, stabbing her sword through his chest. “Now, I know you’ll want to keep talking, but Lia’ll be mad if I do, so just die quickly, okay?”

*****

Despite any attempts to engage with her in conversation and potentially come to an understanding, Geist was unable to get the cheerful brunette to listen to him over her friend. And so, day after day, ‘life’ after ‘life’, ‘death’ after ‘death’, he was forced back into the safety of the dark void again and again.

Slowly, more memories from past Demon Monarchs and their protracted, losing battle against the Pure were revealed to him, though he was unsure what was allowing him to ‘remember’ them. The most common theme was the one-sided slaughter of demons and monsters, with the Demon Monarch of the time unable to save them. It was overwhelmingly pitiful, playing on his sympathy as he watched cute and harmless-looking monsters getting cut down as they tried to flee, and child-like demons getting slain without mercy.

However, it was also all too obvious for someone who grew up in an era of free information, with companies advertising only the best parts of life, and being bombarded with the highlight reels of celebrity life, that the memories he was being shown were curated to make him empathize with the Corrupted. Whether it was maliciously trying to make him outraged by the persecution or if the memories were benignly resonating with his emotional investment didn’t matter.

Demons and monsters can’t be faultless in all this. But I suppose, without a human’s point of view, I’ll never learn about that side of this conflict. He thought as the image of a demon mother and her son being shot down in a hail of arrows faded from his mind. Those memories, curated or not, had the intended effect, but his lingering human side tried to keep things in perspective and compromise. I can’t rightly blame Inessa or Lylia for always killing me… maybe how they kill me, but not that they are. To them, they are just maintaining the peace their ancestors and predecessors fought hard for. Maybe the Pure and Corrupted can’t coexist together, but… Didn’t Chrysaor try to separate the Corrupted from the Pure? Is that the ambition that Inessa mentioned that led to him cursing the world?

Trying to piece together all the scattered bits of information he had heard and learned, it wasn’t easy for Geist to get a clear picture of what had happened to lead to the current state of affairs.

But each day, he learned a little bit more from the memories he was shown. How the overall strength of the Demon Monarchs slowly began to decline after Chrysaor's reign, but not from a lack of levels. Through their eyes, he could see the stats and abilities of the past Demon Monarchs, all of whom, at the pinnacle of their power, were Level 20. Each wielded magic that could freeze time, transcend dimensions, and alter reality, but the further down the lineage from Chrysaor the Demon Monarch was, the fewer of these abilities they had, with the display showing a familiar, taunting “MISSING” in a dull grey font. And as entries went “MISSING”, penalties were applied to their stats, weakening them even more until the values stabilized, a couple thousand years ago, and were as low as what Geist had inherited.

Seriously, what are these seals? And where did they–? After several days of pondering the question, once Inessa returned him to the utter darkness, so all he could do was think, a powerful, resonant memory from far in the past had finally aligned itself with his mental state.

Geist was returned to the memory of the Demon Monarch Chrysaor, beaten, bloodied, and his vision returning after the man who wore robes of a similar design to Lylia’s threw a golden orb at him. Once the light faded, the orb hovered in the air for a moment in the space between them.

“Wh-What have you done to me?!” The ivory-haired demon asked, one of his hands holding his head as it throbbed around a newly formed void in his very being.

The orb flew back to the man who threw it, and he inspected it before nodding to Leopollis. “The Divine Seal seems to have worked. He will not be able to cast spells that interfere with dimensional boundaries any longer. No Demon Monarch shall.” He said, clean and composed as he stored the object away before looking at the defeated greater demon. “There shall be no ‘next time’, Corrupted fiend.” The venom in his words and burning hate behind his golden eyes were filled with a satisfaction that sent a shiver down Chrysaor’s spine.

Quickly, he navigated through his display to the spell he had used to facilitate the plan that the Champion and his party had interrupted. And in the list of spells, where Teleport, Portal, and Stash should be, he only saw “MISSING”.

“No…” Chrysaor gasped, a whisper that barely made it to his own ears, but carried through the space all the same. Turning back to the remaining demons and monsters who hadn’t made it through the portal he had created before the Champion’s party arrived, the gravity of the consequences of their actions weighed heavily on his lithe, surprisingly sturdy form. “What have you done?...”

“Prevented the greatest threat of our world from fleeing to wreak havoc on another,” Leopollis said, striding confidently up to the fallen Demon Monarch and thrusting his sword down through his chest.

Chrysaor didn’t react to being run through by the enchanted blade. He muttered to himself, inaudible even to his ears, but there was a panicked quality in his tone. Then, snapping his head to look back at the humans who had ruined his plans, a hot, primal, spiteful rage shook the demon’s body as he spoke. “You fail to comprehend the ramifications of your actions, Champion Leopollis. Your foolishness will be the ruin of Facide, and I shall revel in watching as the consequences of persecuting my kin and followers with such blind self-righteousness!” Despite having a sword plunged through his chest, Chrysaor laughed. A deep, gurgling, hateful laugh that bordered on pity. “A curse upon you. A curse upon the Pure! Until I am reunited with my kin, may your descendants pay the price for your ‘victory’ here, on this day. The scales be tipped, ever in the favor of the Corrupted, as your sins pollute the land and fester until you are naught but livestock, effete and indolent.” His already hoarse voice strained and cracked, unable to contain the deluge of emotions that caused every syllable to resonate and echo not only through the castle, but the entire nation, so that all would know the cause of their future misfortune.

The victorious members of the Champion’s party took a fearful step back from the immensely powerful, dying being as the flames of his hate burned the last of his life, but burned brightly.

“A great era of peace awaits you, Champion Leopollis, Saint Anthory, Sage Morgilyn, Defender Tristhan, Expert Rodigan, and Master Glotoria! Do enjoy it while it lasts.” The Demon Monarch’s final words, echoing with menace and an uncanny vitality for the disintegrating corpse he left behind, his last thoughts were passed on to Geist as the memory faded. Wait for me, my faithful follower, for just a bit longer.

[Dark Magic Corruption: 50/100]

And whether the memory ended there naturally, or he was pulled away from the absolute nothingness that gave him respite from the fleeting moments of life he would get to experience, Geist’s consciousness drifted from the intense experience he had observed.

Damn… That level of hate and rage… If the feeling was mutual, and both sides have been carrying that for so long…