Emma held her breath as she tried to stay absolutely still.
For just a moment she took the time to contemplate the irony of her situation. Here she was, wrapped in some of the most sophisticated and potent stealth spells that the mortal plane had ever seen, and she was being forced to rely upon shadows and stillness to keep her hidden. The very spells that had ensured no scryer, seeker, or distance viewer could ever find her did little to keep her concealed from the naked eye. To be sure, they would hide her true nature, make her appear to be nothing more than a normal mortal, one that was forgettable and could easily fade into the crowd. That was how she had carefully designed them, and for centuries they had kept her safe, letting her disappear into the mass of humanity.
The problem was that though they were works of art that would make even immortal mages stare in awe, they were absolutely unsuited for what she was doing. They were meant to make her a part of the crowd, indistinguishable from anyone else. That wasn’t of much use when she was the only person in this entire town. Sure, she still appeared as only a normal human, but that did nothing to make her harder to spot. And as the only living thing here, she stood out a great deal. Even worse, they meant that she couldn’t employ any lesser concealment magics, since the greater ones upon her instantly broke any lesser ones that she tried to apply. It was a security feature meant to prevent other mages from tagging her with tracing enchantments, and even though it had saved her in the past, now it was a liability.
The town had been empty for about a week now, a combination of governmental decisions and gentle mental pressure from the Hallowed Sanctuary having convinced the population to leave. It was well known that this town had been practically next to the origin spot of the massive globe of light created by Adam’s awakening. Sure, most mortal parties didn’t know exactly what it was, but they were smart enough to guess that anything that lit up half the world was something to take notice of.
The French government had been all over the place for the first few days after Adam’s awakening, looking for anything that might tell them something. Naturally, they hadn’t found anything at the local farmstead that had recently been renovated, not with the Sanctuary on it, and the same went for the nearby area. Emma had holed up in a basement with a stockpile of food, drink, and an enchantment circle that had eaten up the resources she’d been getting back together, as well as the mana she’d been painstakingly stockpiling. It had ensured that the soldiers and agents that had searched the town had never spotted her, but it had left her dangerously low on resources.
Still, as they had found nothing the government agents had elected to simply cordon the area off and set a small group of soldiers to watch the place and report back to them if anything happened. These were mere ordinary mortals, not even equipped with any sort of magical protection. It had been easy enough for her to avoid their notice, and for the last couple of days, things had been going more or less how she wanted them to. She’d stayed out of the way of the soldiers, kept an eye on the Sanctuary, and monitored the general area.
It was quiet and unexciting work, but that was fine for her. It was relaxing, and she knew that this was the calm before the oncoming storm. The lack of activity also meant that she was able to devote some time to trying to reduce her scales. Given that she hadn’t needed to do any magical ‘heavy lifting’ since breaking into the Sanctuary, she’d been able to prevent the growth of more of the pale reptilian skin. After all, her concealments were more about control than power. The spot that she had worked on before was still painfully burnt, and the white scales had returned, though the size of the patch had shrunk back to its original size.
She’d been frustrated that she hadn’t been able to eliminate them completely, but undoing the growth that straining her power had caused was at least something. However, the meagre resources and magic that she’d expended had left her largely bereft of power. She’d been counting on plenty of time to restore her small reserves before having to deal with anything else. Unfortunately, her luck hadn’t held because as she’d crept around the deserted town she’d caught a faint whiff of sulphur.
The scent hadn’t been purely physical though, it had a spiritual component to it too, one that she recognized all too well. It was weak, but it was unmistakably the scent of the Deeper Hells.
She’d immediately made her way out of the basement and tried to get a better grasp on the situation, all while being as stealthy as she could manage. It hadn’t taken her long to find the soldiers that had been watching the area, or at least what was left of them. The external wounds they suffered had been relatively minor, little more than the scratches one would expect from an angry cat. However, when she examined the corpses she found them soft, as though their bones and internal organs had been melted into pulp.
There were five such bodies, and none of them showed signs of a struggle. They had been taken down either by stealth, or they’d somehow been immobilized before their attacker cut them. The scent was upon them though, and it was still faint as ever.
That gave her hope. It wasn’t an ironclad rule, but generally the stronger a demon or devil the more they would contaminate their environment simply by existing upon it. The smells of sulphur and brimstone were the commonest signs of that contamination. As such, the stronger the scent the stronger the being.
She’d begun to search for the creature, certain that it was still around. The bodies were too fresh for it to have left them too long ago. And she was sure that any being that had found its way here would take their time scouting the town before moving on.
Finding the demonic killer wasn’t difficult, he was hardly making any efforts to conceal himself, no doubt thinking that with the guards dead the town was deserted. Emma had spied him before ducking back around a corner. The brief glimpse was of a figure with inhumanly red skin and short stubby horns growing from his temples enough to let her know what she was dealing with.
This wasn’t a demon, but rather a devil. Fortunately, it seemed he was only a minor one.
The difference between devils and demons was often blurred, but there were distinct differences between the two main races of the Deeper Hells. It could be complicated, but ultimately it came down to their basic alignment. Both of them were evil, taking delight in the pain and suffering of others. Both of them sought to corrupt and despoil, and both sought to destroy and ravage. The difference was in how they approached it.
Demons were creatures of havoc and excess, in battle they were almost animalistic, all fury and savagery, in corruption they offered the chance to drown in the sins of the flesh, gorging upon lust and gluttony. Even when torturing the immortal souls condemned to hell, they were unbridled, often tearing the soul apart, forcing it back together, and then doing it again.
By contrast, devils were more restrained, acting with discipline and focus. When they fought it was in the trained and refined method that even angels would grudgingly acknowledge. When they corrupted they offered complicated deals that slowly drew their victims deeper into nets and pitfalls of sin. Their tortures were more measured and subtle, mental and spiritual as well as ‘physical’, slowly grinding down resistance and hope.
The fact that she was dealing with a devil was both a good and a bad thing. On the whole, devils were slightly weaker than a demon of the same rank would be, but by the same token a devil was smarter than an equivalent demon, and in the current situation she feared brains over brawn.
Now she knew what she was faced with, and she knew that she couldn’t just hide from this.
A minor devil was normally one of the lowest of the low in hell, below even the cannon fodder foot soldiers that made up the vast bulk of the legions of hell. They were the kinds of demons that were summoned up by the penny ante casters, stupid children with a lick of innate power that tried their hands at demonic magic or desperate and bitter old people seeking a chance to regain their lost youth. They lacked the power to grant any truly grand wishes, but they could dabble in petty revenge and cheap thrills, the sort of thing that could get the stupid or the unwary to go deeper down the rabbit hole.
Quite simply, if hell was a criminal organization, then these guys were the equivalent of bottom-rung drug dealers who hung out near poorer schools and tried to offer one free hit of badly cut drugs to rebellious and reckless teenagers.
Still, it was an immortal being and it had power of its own. Weakness tended to breed unexpected talents now and then, and Emma had been willing to bet that this one hadn’t appeared here due to blind coincidence.
She’d managed to catch more glimpses of him as he made his way around the town. He was looking for something, but he wasn’t doing it with his eyes. In the reflections of windows and other glass, she caught sight of him closing his pitch-black eyes, bowing his head and seeming to focus. He wasn’t making any effort to hide himself, so she could easily sense him channelling power through his small horns and casting a web of energy onto the world around him. At first, she’d been terrified that he might be trying to find her, but then she’d realized the nets of power weren’t meant for her. Her protection was enough to keep her unnoticed so long as she didn’t attract any attention. Rather, the energy construct was letting the devil ‘taste’ the ambient mana of the area.
She guessed that this devil was gifted with some sort of mana sensitivity. That had probably been what had allowed him to zero in on this point, despite the lack of any mana remnant from the Awakening. The Hallowed Sanctuary had been set up over the epicentre of the flare, meaning that the truly affected areas had been under its concealment. That should have left nothing for the devil to sense. Unless . . .
It had been at that point that she’d realized he was slowly moving across town almost in a straight line towards the farmstead hidden by the Hallowed Sanctuary!
That was when she knew she had run out of options. If she wanted to keep to her plan then she was going to have to eliminate this interloper, and the sooner the better. Weak though the devil might be he was still many times tougher than any being of mere flesh or blood. Emma had other options available though, and as limited as she currently was, she still had more power than any regular mortal.
That was what led to her current situation, hiding in an alley, using a stinking rubbish bin as cover while she tried to lay an ambush.
Under other circumstances, she wouldn’t have dared try this, but there were a few factors in her favour. Firstly, the devil was of the weakest breed. Secondly, the devil was unwary, convinced that the town was now empty. Lastly, she knew its kind, knew their strengths and weak spots.
Still, she had no choice. The Hallowed Sanctuary was a powerful spell, near flawless and strong enough to hold back armies. However, as she had proven, almost flawless wasn’t the same thing as completely flawless. Its greatest strength was in its stealth, in not being found in the first place. If this devil was able to track it down and report back to his superiors, then . . . No! She would not allow it!
This scout must never report back! Dealing with him might only delay the inevitable, but that delay might just be enough.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
At a guess, she’d imagine that this devil was hoping to find something of value to buy his way into favour with one of the higher-ups, or at least Emma hoped so. He looked like he had not yet found enough to guarantee his safety from irritated overlords. Meaning he could die without drawing attention.
Her thoughts paused as she heard the approach of his footsteps. Good, she’d chosen correctly. Getting ahead of the devil had been something of a gamble, given how his path did meander even if it did go in the same general direction. He might have chosen a different street, then cut across to regain his original direction and bypass her entirely. But here he was.
Step, step.
He was getting closer now, still down the road, but every step brought him nearer.
Step, step.
Emma did her best to keep her breath shallow and quiet. Beneath her she felt her muscles bunch, tensing for action to come, but she forced them to relax. She didn’t want to strain them, and it would still be some time until he passed by the mouth of the alley.
Step, step.
With a last glance around her, she crouched behind the refuse bin, doing her best to ignore the scent of rotting food and rancid fat.
Step, step.
Her tongue ran across suddenly dry lips, a faint prickle of sweat breaking out across her back.
Step . . .
He’d stopped? Why had he stopped!? Had he noticed her? Had he suspected something? Emma could feel her heart thumping in her chest and hear the blood rushing in her ears as her mind raced. Should she rush out? Should she wait? Taking another deep breath, laden with the scent of refuse, she tried to calm down. Rational thought was her ally, panic and hesitation her foes. Why had he paused? Probably for the same reason he had so many times before, he was stopping to take another scan, trying to orient himself again.
Step . . . step, step.
Yes! He was moving again, coming closer just as she’d hoped!
Step, step.
Step, step.
Step, step.
The light coming into the alley was momentarily obscured as someone moved past it. Alright, now or never!
Stealth, at least without the use of magic, wasn’t something that Emma would have normally risked. Through the centuries she’d avoided violence wherever she could, always seeking to slip away rather than risk any sort of confrontation. Such actions weren’t due to cowardice. She didn’t fear conflict because she would lose or be hurt, rather it was because she feared her own strength. She kept her power sealed to ensure her own anonymity. She knew that if she used the might she kept hidden then it would blaze up in a beacon to draw in those she knew still hunted for her.
Taking care to be as silent as she could she stepped out of the alley. Her feet, now devoid of shoes, were quiet as a cat’s tread. Her heartbeat still thundered in her ears though.
The devil was just in front of her now, and she was surprised to note that she was actually taller than him by a couple of inches.
Something must have given her away as she got closer. The devil stiffened and began to turn. It was too late though! An unfamiliar surge of adrenaline shot through her bloodstream as she moved with the turn, keeping behind him even as the loop of cord she gripped between her fists encircled his neck.
“HURK-”
Anything he might have said was cut off as the cord came tight, cutting into his throat and choking his voice. This wasn’t anything as subtle as an attempted strangulation, Emma was doing her level best to snap his neck if she could manage it!
The devil struggled, but for those precious few seconds at the beginning he panicked, and she ruthlessly exploited that advantage as much as she could. With a shove to his back, she slammed him into the wall of the building next to the alley. The impact would have left a human dazed, maybe even broken some bones, but to a devil it was nothing. That didn’t matter though, since injuring him hadn’t been her intent.
A savage smile touched her face as she saw that the devil’s right arm was caught between himself and the building, his own body pinning it in place as she pressed him there. He tried to push free, but she held him there, despite his best efforts as she kept pulling on the cord.
His left hand finally came back, his fingers tipped with talons rather than fingernails, talons that visibly dripped a viscous liquid. It didn’t take a genius to work out what it might be, given how the guards died. She leaned to the side, staying out of reach, even as she kept all the pressure she could on the cord, pressing into him with her elbows.
The devil couldn’t push her off, limited as she was, he was still weaker. That explained the poison and the sensitivity, he was a type she knew. He’d come into being weaker than most but had possessed a certain malleability with his power as a result. He’d grown his power to compensate for his weakness as best he could. Increased sensitivity to the flows of magic, so he could sense the strong from a distance to avoid them, and feel the weak so he could hunt them. Claws with surprisingly potent poisons, so he could end any attack swiftly, or inflict a single wound, then retreat and let the venom do its work while he was safe. He was dangerous, but not like this, not when he was caught off guard.
Sweat broke out on her brow and her arms began to ache, but she didn’t dare to let up. All it would take was one mistake, one scratch, one slip of her balance, and she’d be dead! His struggles were growing frenzied now, his left arm thrashing about as it tried to reach her, his body trying to buck her off even as she relentlessly pressed in. She could imagine his face, even though she couldn’t see it. He was probably goggle-eyed, not understanding how what he thought was a mortal was doing this to him. Her strength was mortal, and as far as he knew her cord was mortal, so why was it cutting into his throat? Why was it cutting off his breath? Why was it killing him?
Emma bared her teeth and continued to strain. Yes, she was sealed and denied the vast majority of the power she once held, but that didn’t change WHAT she was! She was a being that had existed when the first stars had been ignited, who had faced the first of the primal gods when they came crawling out of the remnants of the abyss. She was immortal in a way that only the greater divinities were. Even as a pale shadow of what she’d once been she had power, subtle power.
A mortal couldn’t kill a devil like this, it simply wasn’t possible. The simple act of choking them couldn’t break their immortality, even if the hell being was physically overpowered. A mortal simply didn’t have enough weight in reality to enforce the lethality of the act. After all, a devil was a being of hell, they didn’t actually need to breathe. A mortal could hold a devil down and choke it all day, but it wouldn’t be enough to kill them, not without special measures.
The cord wasn’t a normal one. It was one that she’d painstakingly been weaving for well over a year, a metre-long cord made of the most unexpected material.
Spider silk.
As far as reagents went a spider’s web was about as rock-bottom common as you could get. It was a natural mana conductor, possessed useful preservative properties, and was easy to get hold of. A great many of the simpler spells and potions that beginners in the use of magic employed used them as a key component. Of course, its fragility limited its usefulness, despite the comparable strength it possessed. Mortals could harvest and use the silk to create fabrics, but it was an absurdly difficult task.
Emma had some advantages though. She could force a spider to do more or less anything she wanted. Unfortunately, even with some reagents to focus her meagre power she could only control three or four at a time, and even then, not for all that long. As such the weaving of her cord had become something of a hobby, rather than a serious task. On those evenings when she found herself with little to do and some scraps of power to spare, she’d take control of some nearby spiders and work on improving the cord. Honestly, she’d been somewhat surprised when she had finally finished it.
Still, the cord had been useful and had been one of the few reagents that she hadn’t had to expend in the last couple of weeks, something she was thankful for.
The length of spider silk made for an excellent conductor of her nature, acting as a weapon that took on her existential weight as a greater being, despite how suppressed she was. In her hands it was choking the devil, not simply cutting off his breath, but literally binding his being and choking it off! She could feel his panic, his increasing desperation, as he fought against her. His legs kicked, his free arm flailed wildly, even his head thrashed around in ways that would have broken a mortal neck, trying to dislodge her.
None of it worked though. She’d made the right move, calling upon old skills that though rusty were still keen. She was in the sweet spot, positioned just right so he couldn’t reach her. Maybe if he had more time to work with he could have done something, but she could feel the pressure growing, the devil’s existence fighting against her constriction and failing.
The devil was almost having a fit now, all semblance of humanity having fled him as he screamed into the bricks his face was pressed into. Emma was sure that she saw one of the bricks begin to melt but paid it no mind. Just a bit more . . . Just a bit more . . .
With an audible snap, she felt something give!
The body she’d been struggling against went limp, slumping bonelessly to the pavement. She kept up the pressure though, refusing to take the chance that this was a trick. It was only when she saw small grains of red sand falling away from the edges of his body and then fading away she relented.
Before her eyes the crumbling accelerated, the whole form before her collapsing into dully glowing red sand that in turn faded away into nothingness. Emma waited until the last grain had faded away, then collapsed against the very wall she’d been holding the demon against. Uncaring of the dirty bricks marring her clothes she let her back slide down it until she was sat upon the pavement and leaning back against the wall. In her chest, her heart still hammered, but it was slowly beginning to calm down.
Dead, the devil was dead. Not the simple death of just the destruction of its body, but rather the final death, that of the destruction of the soul.
That was an advantage that the weaker creatures of hell possessed. Under normal circumstances when their bodies were destroyed their souls would survive. The body wasn’t a true vessel, such as mortals and angels possessed. Rather it was a relatively simple construct that was inhabited by the mind and soul of the hell being. When it was destroyed then the essence of the being would be weakened, unable to remain upon a plane where it didn’t belong, and would be pressed back to the Deeper Hells. It was a natural process, as much a part of the universe as the influence of gravity.
For the hell beings, it was not a pleasant experience, and it did cost them in power, time and effort, and it wasn’t infallible. It did, however, allow them to survive what should kill them though. It was only the lower rank and file of the legions of hell that enjoyed such an ability, when one grew more powerful that same strength cost them the ability to cheat death.
What she’d done . . . it had been hard, on her body at least. She could feel muscles beginning to complain about the strain placed on them, feel the sting about her hands where the taunt cord had dug into them. Yet there was also a strange sort of wild satisfaction! The knowledge that she had fought a dangerous foe and dealt with them through cunning and ruthlessness. It was absurd, that she should feel such pleasure for an act that would have once been so trivial for her, but there it was.
Feeling the adrenaline in her bloodstream beginning to fade, Emma slowly clambered to her feet and began to make her way back to the basement she’d been staying in. Right now, she had to think about how things had changed. Yes, she’d managed to keep the devil from finding the Sanctuary and reporting it, and that was important. But the death of the guards wasn’t something she could just brush off. Their superiors would soon become aware of their disappearance, even if she took their bodies and hid them away. That would be enough to draw attention.
There was no chance of them finding the Hallowed Sanctuary, of that she was confident. But the taint of hellish energies that had been released by the devil’s death was another matter entirely. They might not know exactly what they were, but they’d be able to sense them. If she could have removed them then she would have done so. But as things stood that wasn’t an option. So the spot would attract more attention, and that didn’t leave her in a good position.
More and more governments of the world were doing their best to get some sort of supernatural muscle on their side, and that included lavish offers of money, property, and any other incentive they could provide. Emma had been keeping an eye on the news, and there had been a report that two new demigods had agreed to act as government agents.
So far there had been a lockdown on their information, but their existence alone was a boost to public opinion in the government. If one of them was a magic user or gifted in scrying or searching, then things might get tough for her.
This would not look good for her, some unknown hiding in the town where several personnel had recently been found dead.
Honestly, she wasn’t too certain of what would happen if she were to be gunned down. Perhaps she really would die, due to her power being sealed. Or perhaps those seals would come undone as her life force weakened, causing her full power to be unleashed. Either outcome was one she wanted to avoid at all costs.
Damn it! She was going to have to leave and move to the nearest town. It wasn’t ideal, she wasn’t comfortable being so far off, but if she was careful and with a bit of luck then she’d be able to monitor the general area just as well. It might be a bit more costly in magic than she would have preferred, but there were ways around that.
Sighing again she started making mental preparations to leave, trying to work out just how much she could carry with her when she left, and just what she could afford to leave behind. She was so engrossed in such thoughts that she didn’t notice it when she reached up to scratch her back and her nails ran across something harder than skin. Had she been paying more attention then she would have realized what it was.
A small patch, barely the size of a small thumbnail, of white scales just above her shoulder blade.