The Heart of Corruption

Plunged into darkness instantaneously, Illya felt true fear for the first time in her life. She looked behind her, hoping that Renji had been unlucky enough to be sent with her, but alas, she was alone. She hadn’t seen The Dark Lord’s face, but she knew that Renji was now forced to face him on his own. Despite being in complete darkness, she knew she had to find a way back to him immediately, or she could lose the one man who she ever saw as an equal.

Illyandaril was aware of transportation magic like this, though she had never seen it in projectile form. The runes along Castle Aldelthorne were ones she often used with Hutch or Nemi’s assistance to get where she pleased. She wished she had one of them with her now, but alas, she would have to make do. Illyandaril, despite being largely incapable with magic, knew at least a few useful spells within her favourite element. She could only hope she didn’t mess it up and blind herself as she spoke the magic words. A little ball of light appeared before her, rising up to rest over her head. The most basic light spell that took her weeks to fully master, it was the only spell she was sure she probably wouldn’t fail.

This little victory, however, would go ignored due to the horror she saw before her.

The “ground” at her feet shifted, squelching sickeningly beneath her as the thing awoke. Innumerable eyes opened all around Illyandaril, each different from the last as mouth after mouth opened. She was surrounded completely, and from the foul smell she would know just where she was sent—the place where Renji was supposed to be sent: This room, likely a dungeon, had become a breeding pool for corruption. Beast, monster, man, and woman, all who were sent here had become one with this entity that stared at her, a great hunger evident in its gaze. Her mind immediately thought of the manticore, but there was something about the hunger she could feel around her that seemed less bestial—almost intelligent.

There was no reprieve. Once its attack began, there wasn’t a single moment for Illyandaril to breathe. Hands, tendrils, hooks, and the mouths beneath her feet. They’d relentlessly attack all at once, reappearing no matter how much damage she did. Her mighty axe cleaved, slashed, and bashed everything that came at her. Unlike the manticore, at least this thing seemed to feel when it was being cut, which meant that it was a living, breathing thing. It screamed and writhed with every attack, but its hunger only seemed to grow.

Her situation was bleak, and she knew that the longer that she stayed here battling against the heart of corruption, the more time Renji was forced to battle The Dark Lord alone. Renji was strong, that was a fact Illya would make sure was known were any to doubt, but Renji was surely not strong enough to handle someone strong enough to make a pet out of this creature. It was here that her doubts began to creep in once more. Would she, strong though she was, be enough to handle The Dark Lord?

Illya thought swiftly to create a pact with Adelphel, her patron. Pacts were double-edged swords available only to those for whom the god favoured. In the case of Hutch, he was given unfathomable power so that he could fight The Dark Lord, but the power was so great that his body began to disintegrate. Whether or not a pact would be granted was also highly dependent on what the follower asked for. Magus always liked to see flashy displays of power, so when Hutch promised to give him a show, he was interested, but each god and goddess operated differently. A god might ask eternal servitude for the one bound by the pact, and to serve even in death. Another god might ask the pact-bearer to surrender all of their knowledge and experience after a set time, essentially erasing that person mentally and returning them to an infantile state.

With how Renji would speak of Tiamat, Illya imagined she would likely not ask for something grievous of him in return, but there was always a price when it came to power. She may not even agree to a pact simply because the price of it would put Renji in danger, assuming he was to be believed. However, there were legends of Tiamat’s followers eventually becoming great beasts or monsters themselves, and she imagined it was this that was the price of her pact. Though such knowledge didn’t help her, it begged the question; what would Adelphel ask of her in return?

Internally, she reached out to Adelphel, ready to negotiate not just so she could defeat the enemy in front of her, but also to defeat The Dark Lord and save Renji. However, when she finally felt Adelphel’s presence, all she could feel was an overwhelming, righteous anger. He saw her, and what she was up against, and something about that absolutely infuriated her patron. All thoughts of creating a pact died at that moment. She did not know if Adelphel was mad at her for being here, or if he was disgusted at the sight of such corruption.

However, something else beckoned to her in her mind. This was the first time since the start of her journey that she felt Adelphel’s presence. She knew little of gods and how they operate, but even she would be clued into the fact that something had changed. The rules of the great game played out in the cosmos, and Adelphel was finally able to act as her patron. She felt righteous anger as he did, and the light above her head began to glow brightly. Her patron was with her.

Her axe sang with a holy psalm as it met the corruption, the innumerable limbs that were thrust at her stopped regenerating. Progress was finally being made, and what seemed like a hopelessly overwhelming trap was suddenly turning in her favor. If she could remove The Dark Lord’s greatest pet, he would be crippled, and since Adelphel had come to her aid, she was able to sense something beyond the writhing walls of flesh. A heart, its core, moved frequently to avoid her. To remove this creature, this corruption, in its entirety—she would need to destroy that heart.

While she had taken no major strikes, she was still wounded. Hooks had occasionally scratched her, the rare tendril managed to strike her, and the hands would try to crush her limbs. She was bruised, and hurting, but she was nowhere near ready to admit defeat, especially in the face of such darkness. Raising her axe, the holy, righteous glow of Adelphel’s power sang as she prepared herself. While she chased down the heart of corruption, she could only hope that Renji would last long enough for her to come and save him.