The Wordless Mage
Chapter 41: Judgement By Light

Chapter 41: Judgement By Light

The pope’s hands wriggled across the pole, gripping them tighter for a moment before the bright golden hue reaching from its tip began to spread even further out.

"The gods have ordained that I deal with this threat myself," he said, his eyes drilling into the floor with a hint of regret.

"Hahaha, the pope? What good will that do--"

The demon’s tongue curled through its mouth, its sadism getting dimmed by the bright golden light that filled the air.

The runes covering the chest of everyone present sizzled at the light’s hue, popping out into the air and melting onto the ground.

The surrounding heroes, church members, and king all released a sigh of relief, some dropping down onto the ground from the tension in their limbs releasing in an instant.

Vrrrmm!

The staff the pope held clashed against the demon’s forearm, the demon having jetted through the air to create enough force to raise dust around them.

"You’re trouble... I’ve changed my mind. I was going to mutilate Liora in front of everyone, but I think I’ll kill you first."

"Holy Pope!" Several church members cried out, their hands reaching for their respective grimoires, but it was of no use. The demon’s grimoire lit up once more, gripping onto their limbs with tendrils of black to restrain them of movement.

Corien wasted no time, drawing his sword to sever the tendrils, the air getting dragged along with his blade to create a vortex of wind.

This time, Excalibur lit up with its own pangs of gold, the blank palette of Corien’s aether no longer discoloring it.

"I see that you’re just as riled up, huh, buddy." Corien breathed, gripping his blade’s hilt even tighter.

"Step back, Sir Corien, I will deal with this bloke myself." The pope rang, light ejecting from his staff once more to heat the air with a bright flash of white.

To those enveloped in its flare, it was a subtle yet deadly heat, warmly coddling those who were good but burning the demon’s esophagus.

"What is this?" The demon asked the Pope, jumping forward over his head to end their clash.

Shakily, it raised its arm up, revealing a mixture of burnt flesh and rendering fat bubbling from the patch that its skin used to be.

It didn’t particularly dislike the pain such an injury incurred, but it did feel a slight discomfort at the Pope’s ability to singe flesh with such ease.

"Who are you..."

"The Pope, honorary leader of the Church of Echoed Light, and harbinger of the gods’ revelations. You, wretched fiend, have been determined as evil by the light that the gods themselves have provided to me, a devil worthy only of eternal suffering."

He spun his staff around from one hand, turning it to his side to prolong its tip vertically.

"Pope Tharos, stop!" Corien screamed, catching up to the two. "That was incredibly dangerous--what you’d just done."

Tharos turned to meet Corien’s gaze, adjusting his posture to even further highlight the difference in their heights.

"Who are you, to address me so informally--"

"That light you just emitted, it was saint-level holy arcana, wasn’t it?"

Tharos stepped forward once more, raising his staff not against the demon just a dozen feet from them, but at Corien.

"And if it was?"

Corien looked back at the demon whose arm was ridding itself of the dark blight through skin combining and muscle enlarging. He hadn’t said anything to the thing, although a few of his thoughts did trace to its intentions.

"Then you must understand, then, that we shouldn’t kill it."

One eyebrow raised to reveal Tharos’ intrigue, the grip on his staff loosening just a tinge.

"Elaborate."

"No fiend could ever survive such holy arcana--not a demon of its caliber, anyway." The demon raised its arm, but then silently fell back. "It’s clear that somewhere inside, Rowan’s heart bleeds through, fogging the demon’s malice."

There was only silence in the air for a few seconds, none of the three present talking despite all of them desiring to each follow with their retort.

"Hah, you think the puny human is leaving his mark on me?" The demon laughed through its question, black shooting from its pores once more. "Do you wish to know what I did to both him and the girl inside his own mind?"

Corien hands shook from his grip on Excalibur, his other reaching out to direct the Pope back slightly.

"Where are they..." He fought to have the words exit his mouth, his true thoughts trailing on the worst outcomes available. He didn’t wish to hear the demon’s reply--to risk learning that he’d failed as the kingdom’s hero.

"Poor little Rowan, a feeble little existence he was. I had to do something about his grubby hands fighting for control of his body. So I whisked him away--left him in a corner of his mind so deep that he’d have better chances remembering his first breakfast than ever returning to the surface."

The demon’s voice was a growl, concealing the joy he felt as each word he uttered was another drop in Corien’s face.

"And, my, pathetic as she was, the girl had the gall to enter my domain within his mind and search for Rowan. It was infuriating, really, more than having to live with the knowledge that you humans dwell this earth. I wanted to mutilate her and bathe in her blood, but what could I do? She was a spirit, incapable of death. Instead, I left her in a part of the mind so deep that not even the unconscious knows it exists, a place that I would never dare to venture. There, she will degrade for all time, forever basking in the despair of never again reaching the real world."

Excalibur dropped to the ground at the behest of the demon’s taunts, Corien’s knees locked only by the back of his mind maintaining his balance.

"No..." he muttered, collapsing as the weight of the demon’s words finally broke him.

"Liora’s not dead. She couldn’t be, right?" It was Kaia that spoke, stepping forward a bit too close for her own safety.

"There’s no way, not to this thing!" Elias yelled out, almost dropping his bow from how hard he threw his arms in the air.

"If what the demon says is true, then we might’ve already failed to uphold the prophecy." Lucien said calmly, looking to the side at the other two.

The pope poked his staff out facing the demon, light brimming its core. Guilt flashed his face with one look at Corien, but it was quickly severed to return to the stoic strength that he’d always maintained as the figurehead of the church.

"I’m sorry, Corien, but I must kill this beast before it takes more of the heroes. You will answer for your own part in this tragedy another time, but first, it dies."

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