Together we pass beneath the arch that I kindly went to the trouble of clearing – no one will miss those huge and expensive-looking doors I'm sure – into a huge room. In this new room the ceiling is only vaguely visible in the dim light of my wisp, it seems higher in the air than my memory of the exterior of the building would suggest is possible, and the corners of the room are completely obscured by darkness.

This odd human temple has no windows, the method by which it would typically be illuminated is unclear and currently nonfunctional, leaving me standing in relative darkness, unable to see much of the room – my wisp only illuminating a small cone maybe twenty feet in my immediate vicinity. While I don't like to work, standing in the dark is… Hmm. It's worse… probably? Isn't it? Internally I debate for a moment.

It is worse I decide. Which is why with another thought the wisp is empowered, rising rapidly into the air and throwing off more of its pale green light, until it attaches itself to the highest point in the room – illuminating the entire thing. A huge room, hundreds of feet long from end to end. Behind me I hear a sharp intake of breath.

“…Lady Alexandria…” A voice I can't currently put a face to calls out but I ignore it.

Looking around in the new light, as I expected, this deepest part of the human temple is a lavish place. Was a lavish place. A commonality among all the races I think, the tendency to spare no expense in the construction of the houses of their Gods. It has been quickly – oh so quickly – reduced to something of a ruin. The slime trail is gone but the passing of the monster's giant body is not so easily concealed and almost nothing remains in the room but mounds of stone rubble and the splintered remains of heavy wooden …pews maybe? Hard to tell in their current state. And everything has been covered in and punctured by those angry organic quills – a veritable carpet of the things on the floor.

The walls are also peppered liberally with the things – clearly by design. Since the structure is windowless the wall space was largely used for artistic touches, paintings, murals, tapestries and the like, all of which have been thoroughly and purposefully defaced. The far wall of the room was home to a particularly massive mosaic – stretching nearly from one end of the room to the other, clearly the centerpiece the humans had been proud of – that has now been reduced to little more than a large and expensive pincushion, scattering flecks of colored glass and stone everywhere, any trace of artistry lost. The spears are still leaking their poison, oozing corruption into the walls, the floor, and being surrounded by so many of them is actually quite uncomfortable.

My eyes take all of that in in an instant and it is all overshadowed immediately by the creature in the center of the room. Even that uncomfortable feeling of corruption is overpowered by this larger source – the so-called Knight Class. Sitting… or laying?… in the center of the room is a large worm-like monster – its body large, cylindrical and oozing purple slime, already most of the floor in this room directly under the thing has been reclaimed by muck. It's sprawled out across the entire room, a huge ten foot high body curling and twisting on itself in many places – making it hard to judge its length but it's clearly a massive thing. Its skin is translucent – giving me a better view than I would care for of its innards – showcasing a great number of brownish clumps I take to be its organs, a few things in the process of being digested, and near the end of the thing I guess to be the “head” a solid black crystal heart about the size of my head.

I note with a mite of satisfaction that a black line of charred flesh traces along the things entire body. As if it had been sitting briefly in something very hot. I also note that a large part of its mass is currently sitting atop a vaguely glowing section of the floor – the light obscured by the many layers of the monsters horrible body piled atop it.

Also on display is the source of those odd spears that trail in the monsters wake. Maybe it would be appropriate to call them legs? Certainly they serve some locomotive purpose primarily. I can see hundreds of the things all through the monster's jelly-like and translucent skin, forming in seemingly random clusters all up and down the things body. Probably thousands of the spears in total, in various stages of formation, and rapidly becoming more like the completed versions I've seen outside the skin with each passing second – until one cluster forms completely, or at least forms to the point that the spears beneath the creatures skin are indistinguishable from the one embedded in the walls around it. At that point the cluster – probably fifty spears – all push out, bursting through the monsters skin, breaking the jelly-like flesh without doing apparent harm and momentarily giving the beast leverage to push its body along.

Thus propelled – by those and many other spear clusters besides – the whole beast shuffles rapidly forward toward an uncertain goal. Moving in response to my light? Or maybe recognizing me as the source of its recent discomfort? After a moment the cluster I was watching is pushed off the floor by the rotation of the cylindrical body, leaving a large number of spears pointing out into empty air for a moment – before they're all blasted off the side of its body and into a nearby wall the beast felt wasn't defaced enough. It's actually a very impressive – and stealthy – attack, there's no magic involved, no mana fluctuation, no sound – except a gloppy squelching noise of the skin parting and then slapping closed in the wake of the attack – really something very dangerous. And so quick! Already I can see dark spots under that spot in the things skin, another volley of spears being prepared immediately.

In a few places it has thicker spears that are retracting back into its body, rather than being blasted out of it, whenever they can no longer push it along. Some sort of dedicated “leg-spears” I assume, to allow its huge bulk to move around so quickly. At the “front end” I spotted earlier there is an opening of some sort, filled with many many more spears. These ones small and needle like – like teeth almost. The “teeth” are all pulsating, constantly extending and retracting in the things gullet, presumably responsible for the mangled …remains, visible within the beasts body. Disgusting.

Monsters have no need for food. They feed on mana, and while some tiny amount might be extracted by physically consuming a living being, it would likely be almost entirely offset by the costs of “digesting” useless flesh and bone. Take it from one who knows, when you have a body that subsists entirely on mana you've no particular need to go seek it out. Mana is everywhere around us and is absorbed passively by creatures for whom it is sustenance – it's the entire reason a desolate continent like Artas always had such an overflowing monstrous population. There are methods one can employ to extract more, if one has the need, magics to steal it or offer it up willingly from one creature to another but none of them involve eating any of the involved parties. It's counter intuitive, because a mage drained of mana will refill with time – murdering them is inefficient.

For a monster it is even less efficient. A waste of time. They have a method of extracting mana from their victims, no consumption required – it's what makes them monsters in the first place. The crystal heart, which passively absorbs a small amount of ambient mana over time, kicks into overdrive and absorbs much more when a monster kills. It's why monsters kill people and each other so ravenously, it's the only way that they might accelerate their growth. Or so I was taught, some time in the distant past – such knowledge being indispensable in a place like Artas.

This monster pays no heed to the lessons I learned in my youth though. Killing and devouring corpses inexplicably despite the fact that its crystal heart – which I can see in a small space above its “mouth” – is entirely black, that is to say fully mature. It should be physically incapable of taking in more mana. However, the heart is wrapped in those angry red tendrils of corruption, in fact, the whole monster just reeks of corruption, its body shot through with deep red light, tendrils curled around its strange internal organs – so perhaps the rules have been changed. I can feel my head pounding just standing here.

It is… a monster of some variety, obviously, but not one I've ever seen before – either too distorted by the corruption to be recognizable or just not a creature I'm familiar with. Pity Emily isn't here to see it, she could stand to gain a bit of perspective on what a real monster looks like. Though in fairness to her I'm undoubtedly more dangerous than this thing – but it's a directed sort of danger, if she doesn't cross me there will be no issue. It's really not comparable to this thing, which kills indiscriminately as evidenced by the handful of blank and lifeless human faces peering up at me from the floor of this room as well – these ones not made from stone.

“…Is that a Shad Grub?” An incredulous voice asks from beind.

“Of course not idiot, those things get to be the size of a fist at the biggest.” A second voice mutters.

“What did you just call me, you ashborn piece of shit? It looks like a gods damned grub doesn't it?” The first voice comes back angrily.

“I ain't never heard of an Unbound grub. Ain't no one ever heard of such a thing you damn fool, or are you saying a grub overran your position and killed a hundred men in the last thirty minutes?” The second voice retorts.

I ignore the odd byplay. Because my observations are causing me to suspect the beast wants to add me to its already considerable body count. I can see a half dozen spear clusters rotating segments of the beasts body so their pointy ends face in my direction. Glancing down at my Rune Tattoo's, I can see the Rose is still largely depleted from my scuffle with Aurora and her pet Demon King – probably not going to be useful for another day or two – annoying.

“Nor.” I say the word aloud and a magical barrier springs into existence in front of me – then a few more – until there are dozens overlapping shimmering panes of green light. Intercepting the volley of silent projectiles the thing has already launched in my direction, spears meeting the panes and bouncing off – entirely unable to make the slightest scratch against my magic. I can feel my lip curling into a sneer. Annoying. For my control to be so poor, even with the aid of a partial incantation… perhaps I should take to reciting entire spells aloud like some idiot fledgling?

“Hiyaaa! We're all going to die!” That first voice releases a pathetic and despairing cry amidst a clatter of metal – the fool human seeming to lose his feet.

“Shut up Karr, you idiot. Do you want to distract her?” The second voice cuts across the frail cry forcefully.

“The hells you say to me Tiller? You think some ashborn grunt can speak that way to me?” Karr explodes, redirecting his fear into anger as I've noted him to be wont to do. “The Fourth Legion controls the rolls – I could have you shipped north faster than you could blink! I could have words with Captain Nox and see you escorting a deserter caravan before the week is through …assuming you even survive tonight.”

“Keep talking like that, we'll see who survives tonight.” The second voice rumbles back.

“Peace men. Be calm.” A third voice heads off the budding argument. Gordan's apparent calm betrayed by a slight tremor in his voice. “Lady Alexandria has the creature in hand I'm sure …you do have the creature under control don't you?” He adds nervously, directing the question at me.

I wonder when these humans gained the impression that I care a single whit for any of them or their pathetic little lives? It's true that, currently, they are behind the barriers I conjured – but that is incidental – they were behind me, and the barriers obviously appeared in front of me. That I protected the humans is nothing more than coincidence, a happy accident for a pack of fools. To follow me after being dismissed and to then have further still expectations? The impertinence is nearly too much to bear. I do my best to ignore them, distracted by an interesting phenomenon appearing before my eyes.

My magical barriers are being pierced …is not exactly what is happening. Those spears are laden with some sort of poison – the corruption obviously, but maybe something more mundane as well – and in the instant of contact against my shields some are depositing that poison against the shimmering barriers. The result is …troubling. The corruption in the ooze eats into my magic, in a manner more effective than any counterspell I've ever seen. I watch in slight awe. A magical interaction I'm completely unfamiliar with is taking place before my eyes. Reminiscent of the odd magic my wayward Demon King was using.

As the humans stated the creature is not using magic, it is entirely the corruption permeating its being and being passed along in minute quantities in its projectiles causing this result. Not dispelling my magic, just …unmaking it. Causing a loss of cohesion, the integrity of the spell compromised irreparably after mere seconds of contact. The barriers not broken by force but simply by direct exposure to the corruption, disrupting the ebb and flow of my mana that keeps them whole and coherent.

But maybe I have a Word for this? Certainly worth investigating. For something to …not overcome… but sidestep my magic, that is certainly novel. Not something I've seen, in all my long years of life. I should take this opportunity – in the place of relative safety – to experiment.

“Kren.” Cohesion. My remaining barriers flash a bright green for a single instant, strengthened, empowered, the magic made to be more coherent, organized, sturdy as the spell reads from my intent as much as from the Word I spoke. For naught though. The undoing continues unabated.

“Retas.” Harden. Physical strength. Imperviousness. Worthless. The onslaught continues, my barriers fading into nothing after deflecting only a few spears.

“Wrafteren.” Unity, in the ancient tongue of the feathered wretches that used to populate many distant corners of Artas – that some called a predecessor race, some called harpies, but were mostly just called annoyances – or, I remember belatedly, a more literal translation might be something like “eight-wings-as-one”. Eight was a significant number to the harpies, though I couldn't say why. In front of me my barriers consolidate themselves, suddenly reduced drastically in number as they are pulled into neat eight-layer hexagons – five of them to be exact. For a moment they hang there, seemingly unharmed by the spears bouncing against them. I watch with interest. And then they break, almost as one, and we stand naked for a moment beneath the oncoming hail.

I nearly curse aloud, at this reminder of the dangers of using an inappropriate Word. The magic can read my intent and direct itself accordingly to some degree, but it cannot subvert the meaning of the Word being used entirely. You can't say “Water” and conjure fire – well not without some annoyingly abstract thinking of the sort I'm not particularly proficient in. And now I have a crisis to deal with that I've created – Rune Formations snapping into existence behind me and my next spell on my lips.

“Noras tel Kaos'urm.” Aegis of Kaos. The words taste dirty in my mouth. Nearly a full incantation – an incantation that calls on Kaos no less. But it is probably the most powerful defensive magic a demon can call upon if your opponent isn't using holy magic, as precious few people can tell you, and fewer still might actually manage to materialize the Aegis. I am one of those few. Perhaps the last in all the world. And for a moment a sort of pride rises in my breast, as memories of the first time I successfully drew forth the Aegis from a raging storm of demonic energy flow through my mind. For a moment I'm reminded of the girl I was way back then, when the world was younger, and an insatiable fire burned within me.

But the moment passes, the feeling cools. Because that girl is long dead and buried and I am all that remains. Someone stronger. Someone who no longer needs to let her power rage to manage magic of this degree. The pinnacle that was once so high, now slips so easily into the palm of my hand. Those thoughts displace the momentary swell of pride, leaving behind only the old familiar indifference. Before me a massive rampart of crude black iron materializes, thirty feet across, two indents crudely hacked into its back – where an arm twice again as long as my body might be placed to heft the thing – it hangs in the air. I can see the dribble of green fire leaking off of it – emitted by the relief I can't see but know to be on the front, a roaring demon spitting fire. A formidable array of Rune Formations splayed across its back. Impregnable. Unbreachable. The last and greatest defense, of the kind that would give even a God pause – summoning it here is something of a waste, in truth, but I am not one for half measures.

It is a tangible reminder of the might of the Gods and of one God in particular. Long one of the final trump cards in contests of strength among demons.

Thunk

At my feet, just to my left, not five feet from where I stand in the entrance of the room, a long spear has buried itself in the stone. Green light peeks through a small round hole in the black iron hanging above. Then there is another pinprick. Another. Then the whole expanse is shot through with little holes of light, where deadly payloads have been admitted with little resistance. Somehow the Aegis has been penetrated. How strange is all I have time to think.

“Nooooooo!” A cry erupts nearby, despairing. A human figure is moving quickly, running away. But I can't stop to spare him a glance as my eyes track dozens of the deadly spears bearing down on me. Certain death. Or at least a great inconvenience.

A final flash of green light explodes through the room.