Chapter 45

I’ll never know if Mulciber had intended to turn the technology back on to flush us out, or if he was simply conserving magical energy. I suspected the latter, since a servant like him wouldn’t have much idea of what all human tech was capable of. The Dark Lord knew how ignorant I still was after months living among them. Still, it was such a stroke of bad luck that it was almost comforting to think it was a scheme.

Huh. I finally understand those conspiracy nuts.

Presented with a lack of time and distance, and having the trembling Mariko to worry about, I did something extremely foolish: I countercharged at him. He was on all fours, screeching like a banshee. He had weight and momentum behind him, but he was also completely blind.

A tug of my capelet brought the scrap of green cloth free, and I willed magic through it, triggering its defensive properties. The rune-enhanced fabric went hard as steel, and I held it before me like a matador goading a bull.

Mulciber slammed into the solid capelet face first, shattering the overstressed fabricata into razor-sharp fragments. The blow didn’t seem to bother him much, but at least it stopped his blasted screeching. The impact sent me spinning and I struggled to stay upright. In the corner of my eye, I could see Mariko steadying herself. She had the sense to not draw more attention than she had to.

I nearly missed it in the firelight, but Mulciber’s white, glowing eyes were regrowing themselves. His healing seemed slower than before. Running low on magic, or possibly running low on mutton. Still, it wouldn’t be long before he could properly see again, or, worse, fly again.

Which meant that we needed to get out of there. With my last desperate plan a failure, it was time to do something else painful and stupid. “Mariko, cast Cicada’s Chorus!”

“Where?” she asked, taking the sight of me dancing around with a flailing Mulciber shockingly well. I could only just hear her over the ringing in my ears.

“Yes!” Perhaps I was being a tad vague, but Mulciber had already zeroed in on me from what little I’d already said, and I was busy dodging his wide attacks.

Fortunately, Mariko was a clever girl, and the runes spun around her fingers in an instant. Much like Lovely Fireworks was a simple spell that shot out useless sparks, Cicada’s Chorus filled the air with a buzzing cacophony that sounded a bit like a million chirping insects. Not a spell I’d had much cause to use, but it wouldn’t blind me like a Flashbang or other spell. Thank the Dark Lord that Mariko considered that a non-combative spell!

I dashed away from Mulciber, who responded by shooting off a Fireball where I’d stood a moment before. Taking Mariko hand, I scanned the now well-lit area for anywhere we could hide to carry and regroup. The nearest barn? No, the drone from Mariko’s spell was already fading, and he’d be able to hear out panting and footfalls soon enough.

“Cast a Zone of Silence,” I hissed. “Over the two of us.”

She nodded, cutting off the sounds of the outside world behind a whirling distortion. I could still see Mulciber flailing about.

“Now what?” she asked, whispering despite the sound barrier. She was right to be cautious… or were my ears were still recovering?

I shoved those concerns aside. They’d be rectified soon enough. “We need to fix my wounded hand,” I said, “so I can cast spells.”

“Wh-what?” she stammered, completely aghast. “We cannot do that. You will not be able to move your fingers at all!”

“Which is precisely why you’ll be doing that job.” I pulled a small combat knife from its sheath at my belt and began hacking away at the cloth sling around my arm. “Move the fingers into Position Twenty-Three, and I’ll be right as rain.”

She grabbed my wrist roughly, halting my progress. “No, out of the question. If you try, all you will do is… is end up like me.”

I sucked on me cheek, trying to figure out what to say to her. “I have a spell that will fix me completely, All Heal, if only I can put my fingers in the right position.”

Mariko’s brow furrowed. “All Heal? I do not remember learning that one.”

“It’s a tad demonic,” I said. “In fact, it’s completely demonic.”

“Healing magic has to be precise,” she insisted. “You will have to move your fingers to weave the magic. It will never work, and you will only cripple yourself!”

“The Demonic magic is a bit more direct. None of that kidding around with gently using the body’s own healing mechanisms. No, it brute forces anything out of place back into line. It kicks like a mackie, but it can heal anything.”

Her dark, brown eyes went wide as she drew the exact inference I didn’t want her to. She withdrew her faintly quivering right hand, studying it closely. “Wait. You have a spell that can heal any wound, but you did not…”

Mulciber’s claws rent through the barrier around us; Zone of Silence is fantastic for deadening noise, but it isn’t worth a pile of mackie droppings for defense. I shoved Mariko out of the way an instant before two of Mulciber’s claws pierced through my uniform. The enchanted fabric did its job, ensuring he only gashed my chest instead of disemboweling me, but it wasn’t much comfort in the moment.

“Got ya, ya kobold-humping bastard!” he crowed triumphantly as I collapsed to my knees before him.

“You already used that one,” I managed. Get up, Malthus! My legs wouldn’t obey, as I felt my body starting to hit its limits from the evening’s ordeal.

“It’s still a good one,” he snapped. “It’s what ya are.”

“I’ve been with a goblin when I was drunk, and some of the slimmer orcmaids are pretty enough, but kobolds? You wound me.” Keep him talking. Keep him talking, and he might leave an opening for…

“Yeah, I do.” He lashed out again, ripping through the damaged uniform completely. It had been a clean puncture-wound before, but this was a jagged slash that freed my wounded arm from its sling. The only price I paid was being nicked to the bone on my suffering left arm.

The pain was too much, and I flopped to the damp, cool earth with a cry of agony.

“There, that’s what I’m here for!” crowed Mulciber. “Let it out while ya can, Malthus! I wanna hear that sweet music!”

“Kasasagi!”

Mulciber turned to face her, the dark golem’s white eyes darting between me and her a few times. “Does she speak Demonic, Malthus?”

“N-no,” I said.

“Too bad.” He took a step forward. “Guess I’ll have to let my body do the talking.”

Mariko didn’t have to speak Low Demonic to grasp his meaning. “Svalinn’s—”

“Not that again!” He lunged forward, catching her wrists in his meaty palms. “Gotcha, you annoying cow!”

“Let me go!” She struggled uselessly against his iron grip. I wondered why he hadn’t started slashing her to ribbons yet, but one casual look over his shoulder through his still-tattered wings was all the answer I needed.

Because that’d be too quick, Malthus.

“Please, leave her out of this. I’m the one that wronged you. She’s innocent.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” Mulciber sounded more confused than anything else.

That wouldn’t make sense to a devil, would it? I was far too used to dealing with human sensibilities. “You got me, Mulciber. If you waste time on her, I’ll bleed out and cost you your revenge.”

“No ya won’t,” he said, turning his attention back to Mariko. “If ya do, you’re weaker than the goblin spies we caught during the Four Finger revolt. We could bleed ‘em for hours before they went back to Our Father.”

“Soren? What is he aah!” I could hear her bones grind against each other as he clamped down.

No. Not her. Tears welled up in my eyes as I forced myself upright. I felt colder than before, and my head swam. I ordered my reluctant body to get with the program. Not Mariko. Not another one. Not another Rei, or even a Kowalski. Not another person I have to regret, all because they made the mistake of counting on me!

With my off-hand twisted and broken, I only had one spell I could call on.

“Spectral Web!”

Mulciber flicked his right wing, which was gummed up by the spell, but wouldn’t hinder him from hurting Mariko. “I’m getting’ real sick of that one. Get another spell.”

“Get another face,” I spat. “Oh wait, you already did. I think it’s an improvement from before; you always were an ugly little sod.”

“I get what yer doing,” he said.

“Spectral Web!” He ducked under that spell, sending the luminescent blue threads flying uselessly through the field.

“Yer trying to make me focus on ya, so yer lady-friend can get away,” he said. “Awfully human of ya, ya half-breed manlet!”

“Spectral Web!” This time, I directed it at myself. It could close up my wounds a bit, at least. I finally staggered to my feet. “I’m more devil than you are, you grotesque beast!” Buy time. Let her go, let her go, let her go. “You look like your father bedded a wild boar! Probably an improvement from your whore mother!”

“Enough!” His final nerve frayed, he flung Mariko aside. She let out a pained grunt and rolled over in the grass before coming to a stop. I didn’t see what had become of her; I was rather occupied in short order.

Fortunately, he’d expected me to go left or right. Even after my performance with the capelet, leaping at him elbow-first caught him off guard. The trick I’d picked up from the Beckers worked, as the fabric around my right elbow went rigid. I heard the hardened fabric crack as it slammed right into his fanged maw, sending chips of black teeth flying.

It wasn’t any more fun for me, though, and I’m sure I felt something crack in there, too, an instant before his charge caught up to me, slamming me spine-first into the ground.

“Gah, ya no-good son of a goat! That hurt!”

I didn’t respond. That had been the last hurrah; the web I’d used to hastily close my wounds was fading, along with my strength. Had Mariko gotten away? I couldn’t be sure. Mulciber dominated my vision in the gloomy night, though with how his broad back and wings blocked the light from the distant farmhouse, he was barely visible.

At least I won’t have to see the end coming. It’s a small comfort.

That comfort was stripped away as everything around us exploded in a shower of sparks. Mulciber got the worst of it; his body shielded me from much of the light, though I still had to squeeze my eyes shut.

“My eyes!” Mulciber’s voice boomed in my ears, though without the supernatural shriek from before.

Unlike my enemy, I had other ways of seeing. As I peeked through my Mimic Sight, I saw that Mulciber glowed brightly, though perhaps a bit less so than before, and the air was filled with dissipating residuum. Mariko was upright, but I suspected she wasn’t the source of the spell. I’d have heard her casting Lovely Fireworks or the like, and that particular spell wouldn’t have reached so far.

That’s when I saw a familiar outline in the distance, seemingly standing on thin air, yet shooting towards us faster than humanly possible. I shut off Mimic Sight, confirming the impossible vision: Heida riding forward on Viktor’s back, her father’s spear slung over her shoulder by the strands of a Spectral Web, and her loose blonde hair blowing in the breeze. She looked like something out of an old painting of a Valkyrie, there to whisk my soul away to Valhalla.

I slumped backwards, my vision blurring again. The way my strength was failing me, that brief fantasy felt awfully real.