It took longer than they had anticipated to reach the sorcerer's hut. Between the deep pools of rainwater and over-cautious attitude towards the possibility of additional invisible corpses, the crucial journey was prolonged further than either Arthur or Victoria would've liked. The delay was evidently costly, as both of them simultaneously felt a surge of magical energy. Arthur internally grimaced, as the strange man either had managed to; conjurer a powerful demon or cast an ominous spell. This sudden presence of magic spurred them both, racing to the home where the toxic plants had been.
Upon their arrival, they were greeted by the strange sorcerer from the previous day. However, something had dramatically changed since their last encounter. His already dark skin was covered by a thin black, almost chitinous, coating. The magical armor was covered in tendril like-hairs, picking up on any movement around him. Unlike his previous stance, the man was now hunched over, lowering himself to the ground. At least, as far as he could with his advancing age.
His stance and mystical coating was not the only change since they had last seen him, as enormous astral claws and dagger-like tail could be seen hovering around the sorcerer. The pincers rhythmically snapped at the air, while the deadly tail waved high in the cold night air. Slowly, the possessed man approached the main pathways with-in the town, trying to sense anything that had left their homes. Bushes and walls were left broken as he passed, passively showing the strength of the claws.
Both of them simply observed the manifestation from a distance, trying to identify any weaknesses before they charged in. Victoria's hand gently tapped his arm, getting his attention. She pointed to her eyes and shook her head, conveying the sorcerer's sudden lack of sight. Scorpions usually had poor eyesight but felt the vibrations in the air using the fine hairs on its body. The possessing spirit likely shared similar flaws, using magic to sense the surrounding landscape. It didn't seem to move with any purpose, slowly making its way along the path and reacting whenever something disturbed the surrounded air. One bat made the mistake of getting too close and got quickly skewered for its troubles.
As they prepared to charge, the scorpion's tail sudden struck through the mud-covered walls and impaled the sleeping woman sleeping inside. Her limb body was dragged out in front of the mask, before being unceremoniously dumped onto the wet ground. Several more strikes occurred in succession, swiftly ending the lives of two more of villagers before they could even wake up. There was no more time for hesitation, innocent lives were now at stake. He could not stand back and watch, whatever tactical advantage there was for waiting was not worth the cost.
“When you are charging into battle, the priest shall come forward.” Arthur cried out as he charged into combat, quoting an altered passage from Deuteronomy (20:2-4) to grant him holy strength. “He shall say: Do not be fainthearted or afraid; do not panic or be terrified by them. For the Lord your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to deliver you.” His body and sword glowed with awe-inspiring light, catching the attention of his foe. He felt the protective warmth of the angel's blessing wrap around him, reassuring him of his actions.
Although his sword was enhanced, blocking the incoming stinger stopped any charging momentum he had built. His body could not withstand the force of the blow and was slowly pushed back, creating deep lines in the muddy earth. The scorpion quickly renewed his onslaught, relying on his stinger to attack from a distance, while the main body began to consume the fresh corpses. Each second only empowered his body further, growing that oppressive astral body in both size and strength. Arthur braced himself for the next strike, unsure how many blows he could take.
Attempts to parry were futile, as the ethereal carapace was easily able to repel his sword and staggering the defender. He could hear laughter coming from the host body, taunting him in the native tongue as its tail readied to strike again. Each successive strike maintained its ferocity, aiming for the gaps in his light armor. Every time Arthur tried to make some distance to recover, his foe moved in to close it.
A sudden movement caught his eye as a satchel full of powder sailed over his head, with a throw which seemed both: telegraphed and slow. Regardless of force behind the projectile, a striking stinger lashed out at the cloth bag before it could reach its intended target. From the tattered remains; a fine powder filled the air and slowly rained down over the possessed sorcerer. Several more followed, each punctured mid-air before they could make contact.
Now that he could recompose himself, Arthur charged again. This time managing to meet the blade on a more equal footing. The deadly stinger seemed to have been off of its initially precise mark, landing off to his stronger side. “The powder contains dried herbs coated in holy water.” Shouted Victoria from a distance, assuming that their opponent's lack of taunting in their tongue revealed his limited linguistic skills. “He should be unable to properly focus on your form for a while. Use it to your advantage.” True to her word, the strikes were slower and less focused. It was possible to get close and try and do some damage. With Victoria's support, the beast could be slain.
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Akake nla's patience grew more and more thin as the minor skirmish drew out. His sorcerer had wasted his entire troop of Tokoloshe spying on a group of slightly empowered humans. Since they had dispatched his minions, he had assumed that they held some modicum of power. However, they were barely holding their own against his strikes and probably defeated his minions by pure luck. Their tricks only served to slow him down, obfuscating their position. They would fall soon due to the large gap in strength, which was only delayed by the strange powder from the person hiding in the distance.
Then, he felt a supernatural presence draw closer, specifically one of the local guardians that he had bound and cursed. It was moving towards him... but why? They had been subdued for years now, what caused the spirit to break free from his bindings. He should've just killed them years ago, instead of leaving them alive to leech off their essence. One more guardian would not change the outcome, it would only add another corpse for him to feast on.
The oddity soon occurred again, with a second presence slowly making its way to his location. Was someone undoing his bindings? There was not time to come up with any other explanation. Akake nla knew that guardians were far too broken to be able to remove it themselves, so these interlopers had clearly done something to break his bindings. Their deaths will not be painless, he would make sure of it.
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Kahina walked through the moonlit pathways, flanked by both Marka and Julianna. Their role was relatively simple: freeing the local guardians from their binding shackles. Victoria initially wanted to leave the village as it was, not wanting to intrude onto the lives of a village she was a temporary guest, but she was not given the choice. The provocations from the sorcerer would probably only get worse and escape seemed unlikely in the event that any more of those invisible ghouls were unleashed. Which left only confrontation as an option.
Thankfully the local spirits were more than willing to provide assistance in freeing their fellow guardians. The foreign proverb “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” proved to be true. Once a few of the spirits were released into the village, the collective rage built up around the supernatural residents. It was readily understood that any appreciation for their freedom could be given at a later point, as there was no time to waste on gratitude. A few of the lesser guardians appointed themselves as guides, creating an efficient pathway to the stronger spirits and avoiding minor spirits unable to provide aid. They knew that the weaker ones could be freed later and focused on ones who could be of immediate use. Former hierarchies, old bonds and long grudges were put aside, as bloody vengeance was all that mattered.
Julianna was the one dispelling the binding curses, as Victoria suspected that the priests would cause unnecessary harm by allowing their prejudices into their mission. She had been some sort of priestess back in England and could chant a few holy spells, even if they felt considerable pain when doing so. The angel's gift of did enable her, in Victoria's words, transmute some of her dark magic into light magic. “Our Father, Who art in heaven.” she prayed as she anointed a cross shape on the foul markings*. “Hallowed be they name. Thy Kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Hail Mary, full of grace.” With the glow of holy water, the black inscriptions faded into the wind, leaving only Juliana's freshly scarred hands behind.
Repeated use of the scriptures placed a heavy toll on Juliana, which probably flowed back to Victoria in some manner. Regardless, they pressed on, freeing more and more guardians with each passing minute. Apparently, it was having a noticeable effect, as word from the primary battle was that it was rapidly turning. As Marka and herself helped Julianna to the next mask, she was asked to pass on a message to the spirits in the local tongue. “Send messengers to the other villages, they will need aid after this battle is over.”
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With each passing second the battle became more and more uncertain. Even though Akake nla's empowered strength made him far more resilient to all manner of attacks, the growing number of opponents was something that not even he could match. At first, they harassed him from a distance, throwing rocks or casting their own magic spells. It was manageable, albeit annoying. Then as the larger guardians were freed, he was put onto the defensive for the first time as they unsuccessfully tried to restrain him. Whenever he moved to block an incoming strike, the foreign swordsman would move in close to attempt a strike which constantly had him moving his claws to defend the host body. There was also the matter of the strange woman, hiding somewhere in the rear and providing the avian spirits with more of that annoying dust to drop from above. Every effort was pushing him back. By the time he noticed he had been driven away from any sleeping or cowering villagers it was too late. No longer could he further empower his defenses by reaping the nearby human souls. His sorcerer was starting to express doubts, somewhat resisting his control... as futile as it was.
It was time to end this fight, as there was little point continuing. He could still flee under the cover of the remaining darkness, escaping to the untamed jungle depths. As a final act, he figured that should take the incompetent sorcerer's soul. A parting gift to himself for his efforts. Raising his stinger high, he drove it down into Ambonisye's neck**. Akake nla barely heard him moan “why...” as he died foaming, useless to the end. His death calling the hundreds of astral scorpions around the village*, covering and ravenously consuming the corpse in a manner of seconds***. Fifteen human souls, regular blood and flesh offerings were a poor result for six years of work. It might be better to just raid the villagers directly, as opposed to lowering himself to become their guardian.