In Whom Do You Trust I

Number of times König Geistdunkelrustung has resurrected: 94

Even before the development of the nation-wide array of purification spells limited the convention of Dark Magic to the lands west of Facide, the Badlands had always been known as the ‘Land of the Corrupted’. The border that formed along the edge of the Badlands was not decided because the Purification Array could not be expanded further. With the capital in the center of the array, it stretched almost twice as far to the east as it did to the west. It wasn’t a matter of being unable to reach further into the barren lands, but that it couldn’t. The concentration of Dark Magic Corruption had made the land itself impossibly resistant to purification magic.

Though it was not as if the land held any value to tempt anyone to risk developing a settlement in the Badlands, either. The flat, arid plains stretched on for days and days, spotted with deep pits from which Corrupted pieces of the land gained mobility and agency. The clouds above were devoid of water, much like the air and land, comprised of high concentrations of the Corruption that deprived the region of life.

“There really isn’t anything here…” Geist said to himself, standing outside the desolate remains of what should have been a castle for the first time.

The unnatural flatness stretched far beyond the horizon, with not even a hill, let alone a mountain, to act as a landmark. As he scanned his surroundings, the only thing that broke the uniformity of the terrain was the cavalcade of riderless horses kicking up dust as they sprinted away from the area. The leather tethers that had been meant to keep them from wandering off were snapped the moment the steeds saw him emerge from the ruins.

“Those are some fine horses. Must have been bred for speed and endurance to get that far that fast.” He mused aloud, their reactions the complete opposite of any Corrupted he had encountered before. “But what am I supposed to do about their riders?” Turning back to the twenty-four unconscious, bruised humans in various styles of armor, robes, and clothing, it had been the most unusual day since he arrived in Facide.

He resurrected to see twenty-five strangers standing in his ruined castle, claiming to be there to kill him in the place of Inessa… but they were all so weak. Their attacks couldn’t get through his Durability, their spells fizzled against his Barrier, and even the non-damaging ones couldn’t overcome his Magic Resistance. They wouldn’t listen to reason either, so he tried to incapacitate them gently… only to learn that if they are not the Champion, decked out in cheat-tier divine equipment, and less than half his level, a human is surprisingly fragile. Fortunately, he learned after the first attempt, and Varney got to enjoy a treat that wasn’t Dark Magic Corruption.

“I thought if I knocked out the weaker ones first, the stronger ones would retreat with them, but…” Of the unknown aggressors, only two stood out, women with deeply tanned skin and fiery red hair, decades apart in age; likely mother and daughter, or perhaps family in some other way. “They just kept coming at me, saying if Inessa could beat me, so could they. It’s a nice-sounding sentiment and all, but…” The latest casting of his Research spell was still active, so he could see the gap between his and their stats.

Victoria Quentellia [Advanced] | Race: Human | Level: 9
Hit Points: 10/128 | Mana: 15/35 | Stamina: 4/39
Status: Unconscious
Strength: 29 | Durability: 35↑
Deterity: 20 | Evasion: 2
Endurance: 23 | Barrier: 12
Vitality: 13 | Force: 50↑
Intelligence: 11 | Precision: 33
Wisdom: 11 | Arcane: 21
Charisma: 10 | Faith: 21
[Personal Information]

Maxine Quentellia [Advanced] | Race: Human | Level: 8
Hit Points: 2/96 | Mana: 29/29 | Stamina: 1/31
Status: Unconscious
Strength: 25 | Durability: 25↑
Deterity: 17 | Evasion: 7
Endurance: 19 | Barrier: 11
Vitality: 12 | Force: 49↑
Intelligence: 10 | Precision: 31
Wisdom: 10 | Arcane: 19
Charisma: 9 | Faith: 19
[Personal Information]

“...my stat total is basically five times either of them. What did they expect?” Shaking his head, he had learned better than to focus on the ‘Personal Information’ option. “I expected more from the infamous ‘Demon Instructor’ Maxine. But what do I do now? Should I just… kill them?” The idea of ending the lives of the defenseless assailants felt oddly hollow as he considered it.

Any time he thought about what he would do if he ever defeated Inessa and Lylia, he couldn’t even imagine actually killing them, so the idea of killing people wasn’t something he had to consider too deeply. And despite having ended a life accidentally, the act didn’t weigh on his conscience at all. Apparently, the difference between his and the unfortunate, lightly-armored combatant’s levels was such that the display informed him that he received no Experience for it. Which, given the ease with which he dispatched them, made sense. All he learned from it was how easily he could break them.

Still killing them after he had already knocked them out felt unnecessary. “And if Inessa, or Lylia especially, found out…” He didn’t even want to consider getting on the two’s bad side like that. He had spent so much time convincing them, or rather Lylia, that he wasn’t some blood thirsty monster. Killing these people now felt like it would be a betrayal of their trust. “Well… If they stay here too long, they’ll get Corrupted, which is a good thing for me, I guess?” Looking back towards the horses who had, at the limits of their vision, stopped and looked back to see if the danger had left yet, getting them to come back for their masters was out of the question, too. “And if I turned them into monsters, they’d likely eat–!?”

Considering using one of the few spells he could still use to enlist the help of the frightened steeds, a bright light flashed from within his castle, and a cracking, hoarse, trembling voice screamed out in anguish. “GEIST! HELP! WHERE ARE YOU!?”

“Lylia?!” Snapping his head in the direction of the blonde’s voice so hard, he nearly cracked the armored plating on his neck, Geist didn’t hesitate and leaped with all his might.

He easily cleared the partially collapsed walls of the structure and crashed down in the ruined throne room. As he turned around, rising from the stance he used to cushion the landing, he saw Lylia kneeling on the ground, wearing rags, haggard, and a nearly dead Inessa lying face down with projectiles and knives sticking out of her body. Varney had already abandoned his meal and was in the process of fluttering around his mortally wounded master, and Geist felt something inside of himself strain dangerously close to snapping.

Trying to measure his steps and failing, as he walked on the ground with such force, he cracked the dry, lifeless bedrock beneath him. He approached, pointing at the brunette. “What happened?”

*****

Immediately upon arriving at the ruins of the Demon Monarch’s castle, Lylia’s body began to tremble from the incompatibility with the Corrupted land. When she had her Divine Artifacts, all of her Divine Artifacts, they shielded her from the inhospitable environment. The air was attempting to suck the moisture from every exposed inch of her body. The dust was thin but chokingly omnipresent. The ground under her was unnaturally cold, not from temperature, but from what was clawing at her very being to strip away the humanity she had left. And yet, she still felt more welcomed in the land so saturated in Corruption that it perpetually darkened the skies than she did back in the capital.

A sliver of it felt nostalgic, of her life before entering the church, and a non-insignificant part was her familiarity with her surroundings. But more than anything, there wasn’t another duplicitous, conniving, backstabbing human around for days.

Choking back the dehydrating air as she took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn’t too early, Lylia called out for the one being who might actually help her and the brunette bleeding out next to her. “GEIST! HELP! WHERE ARE YOU!?” She shouted louder than she had ever before, her vocal cords threatening to tear from the effort as her voice echoed through the abandoned, desolate place.

Her plea wasn’t answered by the deep, resonant voice of the Demon Monarch, however, but by the high-frequency speak of a dark-furred furball fluttering over to Inessa. As she turned her head to track the winged monster’s movements, she noticed the body of someone wearing non-standardized light armor, most likely some adventurer. There was a massive hole in their chest, the blood spilling out being greedily drunk through the cracks in the ground.

What hap–?! As she tried to make sense of how a human body was here of all places, a towering, armored figure fell through the hole in the ceiling with a thunderous thud, and the air that had already been difficult to breathe suddenly became heavy and oppressive.

Her body was instinctively reacting to the aura of condensed Corruption radiating off of the imposing, armored being as he stood up and turned to face her. The air almost warped around him, as if reality itself was afraid to touch him. The glowing, flickering lights set darkness locked within the horned helm lit up and burned with increased intensity when he saw her.

Raising a sleek, armored hand, the shadowy greater demon pointed at the brunette, whose life was hanging by a thread, smears of blood still fresh on his finger. “What happened?”

His voice was low, intimidating, and slithered through her ears, gnawing on her mind and psyche directly. The sensible, sane part of her mind screamed at her that she had made a terrible mistake. Her body tried to summon the strength to scramble away. Every instinct as a Pure warned her that the menacing being before her was a danger, and that she lacked the protection of her Goddess to defend herself.

But sanity and the conventions of the Pure are what reduced her and Inessa to the states they were in. What did she have to lose by seeking out the Corrupted?

“Essa’s dying! Please, you have to save her!” She said, ignoring all that her instincts were telling her. “Please, a healing spell, or anything. If you don’t, sh-she is going to die!”

“What happened? Who did this to her? Who did that to you?” He asked again, his voice trembling in the sort of anger that was as reassuring to hear, knowing it wasn’t directed at you, as it was terrifying to think of what would happen to whoever it would be directed at. His hand moved slightly, turning to point at a part of her arm that wasn’t covered by her sleeve, and the black, thumb-wide black cylinder that had punctured her skin.

“We were betrayed! The Council, the queen and king, they want to eliminate and replace us! I was supposed to be executed today, and they tried to kill Essa last night when she came to rescue me.” She said, tears welling up as her body began to feel heavier and heavier. “Please, Geist. Tell me you can heal her. I… All of my mana is being drained by these things. I won’t be able to cast anything quickly enough to save her. It took all of the Mana in the Divine Artifact she was able to bring me to teleport us here. We wouldn’t have been able to get away otherwise, even if I had tried to heal her myself. So, please. I’ll do anything!”

Her voice trembled and cracked as an odd sense of security and comfort washed over her. Even if they were in the middle of the Badlands, half-dead, and at the mercy of the Demon Moarch, they were safer than anywhere else in Facide.

“You have to save her! I-I know you have no reason to, but Essa’s–”

“I-I… I can’t…” He said, cutting her off with a sorrowful tone. “I don’t have access to any healing magic. It was all sealed away by those Divine Seals. The only spells I can cast now are Research, Defile, Soar, and Metamorphosis.” He added quickly so she knew it wasn’t a matter of him not wanting to help, but that he was unable to help.