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Chapter 25 - Devastation Wave

Chapter 25 - Devastation Wave

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  The world went dark, then the group found themselves in a desolate wasteland of rocks and heat. There was a massive mountain next to them, as silent and docile as a sleeping cat. There was a small army of adventurers gathering near the base of the mountain, all of them dressed in heavy armor and armed to the teeth. For four particular people, they all gathered on the outskirts of the mass.

  "Has anyone seen Eric?" Lucia asked desperately.

  "He's hard to miss, but I haven't seen him," Draco answered, and Lilly agreed.

  "I don't sense his magic anywhere," remarked Elas. "Lucia, have you grown?"

  The tiger-girl now stood almost up to Elas's nose, with a much more filled out form that was begging for release from the tight armor. Her face had filled out some, with pouting lips and a cat's nose that twitched whenever something hit her whiskers. Her eyes were still the same cat-eyes that she always had, but they carried a certain confidence that had been lacking previously.

  "Yeah, I think I'll need to visit George's smithee," Lucia said, pulling at the edges of her armor. She looked up to see Emily standing a short distance away, her expression grim. When their eyes met, Emily let out a single tear. The hero of the sword started to approach Eric's group, silent even as the planes below started to break apart. Draco, Elas, and Lilly all joined in the cry with the adventurers as they swarmed the mountain, but Lucia was grabbed by Emily and held back.

  "What is it?" Lucia asked, but Emily seemed to have a hard time vocalizing what she wanted to say.

  "It... it's Eric," Emily finally managed to squeak out.

  "Did you find him?" Lucia asked, her hopes suddenly raised. Emily avoided eye contact, wishing she was facing off against demons rather than doing this. But this was her mission, she needed to do it.

  "Eric is... not coming back," Emily finally forced from her gullet.

  "What?" Lucia questioned, confused as her mind failed to accept what Emily had told her.

  "He went to rescue Princess Vicky, and... the church killed him," Emily breathed, looking at the ground to avoid Lucia's reaction.

  "That's not... they wouldn't... the church couldn't," Lucia was trying to think of any and every reason why this wasn't possible.

  "Princess Vicky saw it herself," Emily said softly. "The way she described it, I doubt anyone would have survived. The church used a strange magic that brought light down from the sky. The first time they hit him, he was half-dead. The second time, he would have needed a miracle to survive."

  "No," Lucia said, "Eric's not dead."

  "Lucia, I'm-"

  "NO!" Lucia screamed, "ERIC IS NOT DEAD! HE CAN'T BE-" Lucia was cut off by an explosion that nearly concussed everyone present. All eyes turned to the top of the mountain where an enormous plume of liquid rock suddenly rose into the sky. The magma fell as the ground shook, creating an immediate lava flow.

  Then came the eruption.

  It sent out a shockwave that cleared the skies of any clouds, blowing dirt up and around the mountain. Everyone who had the misfortuned to be standing was sent flying, blowing over each other without even the common courtesy of a 'heads up'. A plume of smoke was sent into the heavens along with a tidal wave of searing magma that came crashing down far too close to comfort. People screamed as the tiniest flecks of burning ground touched them.

  Down at the vally, the confusion of the volcano eruption gave the demons the edge they needed. There was a slaughter down at the base of the volcano as demons ripped people apart, decimating the front line. The bright flashes from Benny's arrows didn't even hit any demons, meaning Benny was as disoriented as everyone else. Emily and Lucia looked up at the free flowing lava, then down at the encroaching demons coming from the rift in the center of the valley.

  Everything seemed weighed against the heroes, until THEY showed up.

  Ten figures in pure black suits, each one wearing a single piece of armor over their black cloth. They started to fight the demons, every punch or kick sending monsters twice their size flying like ragdolls. One of the men in black wore nothing but a helmet, yet he managed to headbutt every enemy with devestating effects. The ten figures weren't just amazing by themselves, they frequently passed monsters between each other, dealing destructive combos with blazing speed.

  Then came a roar as the ground in the valley which had loosed the demons suddenly broke open further to reveal a monster from the nightmares of everyone present. It was easily a hundred yards tall, wearing a white mask with hair covering it's five arms and eight legs. The monster unfurled massive wings twice as long as it was high, then it opened a mouth that spanned the entire top half of his body. Rows upon rows of jagged teeth filled it's maw, each one larger than the average person.

  Every adventurer dispaired, crying out in agony or facing the oncoming lava and running for it. This was not a demon they could face, it wasn't a demon that anyone had the mind to even stand up to. This monster was the sheer embodiement of fear, a creation of terror come to lay ruin to the existence of man.

  Which made it all the less real when the monster suddenly lurched to one side as one of the black clad members was launched at it. What followed was a series of blows that meshed perfectly, creating a web of attacks that both trapped and beat up the monster. A figure wearing boots kicked the one wearing waist armor, sending the waist armament crashing into the monster while another figure went at it from the other side. They worked in perfect harmony, one hit leading balletically into the next. It was almost too perfect.

  "What..." Emily started to say, but she could barely explain what she was witnessing. The fight was breaking up the ground even more than the crack already had, kicking up dust to obscure the exchange. The sound of the monster roaring in pain was as deafening as the volcanic eruption, blowing away some of the people who had stood up. Lucia was in a state of equal distress, her fear and confusion peaking.

  Then came the final combo, when the figure wearing gauntlets tossed the one wearing a helmet while the figure wearing shoulder pads launched the figure wearing boots. They two airborned fighters met in the middle over the monster as it roared at them from below. The two got ready, with the helmet holding onto the boots of his companion. The guy wearing boots started to spin both of them, generating tangential force as they gained speed. The monster let it's wings flap, pushing itself off the ground with it's mouth wide open.

  Then the helmet figure let go at the right moment, falling like a meteor directly into the mouth of the leviathin. The helmet fighter disappeared into the abyss of the monster's mouth, then appeared on the other side having pierced the giant's body. The beast fell, hitting the ground with a tremor that reverberated across the mountain.

  Everyone watched with baited breath, wanting to see an end to this monster once and for all. There was too much dust in the air, then a sudden plume of dust rose from the ground as the guy wearing boots came sailing down into the dust. The whole world seemed to remain still in that moment, as if Gaia herself wanted to know.

  Then came the crackling sound as the crack in the ground closed. The adventurers started to run, away from the ever encroaching lava that was flowing steadily down the mountain. Having been trapped between molten rock and a hard place, everyone felt unmeasurable relief at having a way out. They ran into the valley as the fissures in the ground closed, watching the body of the mob boss desintigrate into ashes.

  Everyone was ecstatic, except for Emily.

  She rushed in with her sword drawn, swinging it in a graceful arc at the head of the guantlet wearer. There was a strong resistance as the guy wearing armored boots kicked the sword away, narrowly saving his companion.

  "What are you doing?" Benny shouted, "Those people saved us!"

  "They're the ones who kidnapped the queen," Emily shouted as she held off against the armored figures. "They're working for the church!"

Lucia suddenly came flying in, brandishing her own sword to join in the fight. The sheer ferocity of her attacks matched her tiger appearance as both she and Emily worked to fight the black clad figures.

  "Where is Eric," Lucia ordered, plowing her sword into one of the figures. It cut the fabric of the man's cloth, revealing a thin slice in his skin which steadily bled. He backed up, but couldn't entirely dodge the tiger-girl's onslaught. More of the black figures joined, deflecting the blows and defending themselves against the two adventurers.

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  "Stop this," ordered the man wearing the helmet, who stood to the side watching.

  "Then tell me where Eric is!" Lucia cried, slashing hard against one of the men.

  "We have him in custody," said the man in the helmet, crossing his arms. "He's gravely insulted the church, but he remains useful even while bound."

  "Give him back to me," Lucia ordered, tears blurring her vision. She felt a sudden crack on the back of her head, a pang of pain that disappeared along with all the feeling in her limbs. Lucia fell to the ground, not even using her arms to brace her fall.

  "Eric was a hundred times more powerful than you, and he still fell to the church," said the man wearing the helmet. "You would need to train for years just to match his power, and even then the church would fell you just as they did to him. Give up on your friend, demi-human. You'll live longer."

  Lucia couldn't respond, her jaw didn't work properly, but tears still streamed from her eyes as the men in black walked away. The adventurers stood aside, watching in anger as the men who had captured their friend walked away unabated. Lilly went to Lucia's side as Elas and Draco both went to confront the black figures.

  "Stop," ordered Benny from the side, "let them go."

  "Don't give me orders, human," Draco seethed.

  "There's no reason to fight them," Benny tried to say.

  "They hurt Lucia," Elas growled, "that's more than enough reason."

  "And they also hurt Eric," Benny said loudly. "He was stronger than everyone here combined, yet they defeated him. I'm not telling you to make peace with them, but save the fight for later when you're stronger."

  Draco gripped his mace as though he was contemplating attacking Benny, but the dragon demi-human seethed and nursed the wound in his ego. He shrugged off the anger and went to Lucia's side where he could only watch as a medic from a different party examined her. He felt powerless, even as one of the strongest people in the world, he felt like he couldn't even lift his mace anymore.

  The previous wave was perhaps the worst in recorded history, with the death toll at nearly half of the entire heroes' parties. The number of bodies that needed to be carried back were almost too great for the surviving members to handle. If it hadn't been for the ten mysterious men in black, the heroes may not have made it back at all.

  And that was the most bitter pill to swallow.

  The funeral procession that went through the streets of the capital took the entire day to finish, and by the end, even Juliet was tearing up. The king stood by, said a few solemn words, then asked for others to step up and replace those fallen. A memorial would be made to commemorate those fallen, a large stone monument with all of their names listed on it.

  Emily, John, Benny, Tyler, and Todd all felt like shit, now that reality had reared it's ugly head. Eric had been such a major influence during the waves, being without him cost the heroes dearly. It was such an ugly realization, the heroes had a meeting afterward in an empty tavern.

  "What are we going to do?" Tyler asked, taking a long drink of hard liqour. "Now that Eric's not there, the waves are going to be much harder."

  "We could petition the church for Eric's release," suggested Emily, taking a sip of her own drink. "If the heroes they worship demand it, they might be forced to do what we ask."

  "That would make them look bad," Benny said, "having the chosen heroes asking for help from one of the non-chosen heroes. If anything, we would need to phrase it in a way that discredits Eric."

  "I don't think they'll let him go," Todd added some doubt. "I mean, he attacked the church directly. It probably took a lot of convincing just so they wouldn't kill him."

  "How do we know that he's even alive?" Tyler asked, looking around the table. "Eric has nothing that the church needs, they can kill him and parade his body in the streets in total justification."

  The scene was all to familiar, a behemoth of a man trapped in a dungeon. Only this time, he was shackeled to two enormous boulders that would have pulled apart a normal man. Each one was the size of a house and weighed three times as much. The man himself was covered head to toe in straps and black cloth, giving him the appearance of a tortured gimp.

  Not Eric's worst friday night, but it was in the top ten.

  The only door into Eric's particular chamber opened with intolerable screeching of metal that tore through the eardrums of anyone listening. Once the door had been fully opened, a group of old men wearing red robes entered, their tiny hats looking comically religious on their bald heads. Eric didn't react to their entrance, remaining as motionless as a cadaever. Once the men had entered, they looked at the bound men in anger. Only his mouth was visible, but that didn't stop the old man from shaming him.

  "Eric Bane," said one of the deacons dramatically, "I am Deacon Gregory Havershad of the eastern order of the church. I have come here to ask you a few questions."

  Eric didn't move, not even a twitch as Gregory addressed him. The deacons talked amongst themselves, then Gregory eyed Eric curiously. He clutched the holy book as the bravest deacon approached Eric's motionless form, getting closer until he was right underneath him.

  "Is he dead?" one of the other deacons asked.

  There was a sudden snort from Eric, then his breathing became noticable as the deacons all leaped in shock. They looked at each other, then Deacon Gregory massaged his temples to calm himself down.

  Finally, Gregory hurled his book at Eric while shouting, "Wake up!" The book smacked Eric's leg, which made him suddenly snort himself awake at the sudden feeling in his legs.

  "What?" Eric asked drearily as the deacon recovered his book.

  "I'll repeat myself," Gregory seethed in anger, "I am Deacon Gregory Havershad of the eastern order of the church. I want to ask you a few questions."

  "Didn't your interrogater get everything you guys wanted? How is he, anyway?"

  "He's still recovering," Gregory answered in annoyance.

  "Still? I guess I shouldn't rush recovery. After all, the guy did have his intestines around his neck."

  "Yes, that was," Gregory swallowed a lump in his throat, "gruesome. I thought that I might ask you a few more questions that the interrogator didn't get to."

  "Shoot," Eric said casually.

  "The most recent wave happened without your interference, and the heroes faired far worse than we had expected. As happy as I am that the magic barrier around the island keeps you from escaping, I need to know the secret for your massive strength."

  "Luck," Eric said simply. "Most, if not all of it, was pure, dumb luck."

  "Would you care to elaborate."

  "No."

  Deacon Gregory breathed in through his teeth, having never been this insulted as a high ranking member of the church. He needed to keep calm, but the usual reverance with which people had regarded him made his skin soft to disrespect.

  "You know, I find it humorous that the hero of the chains are bound by the very things he controls," Deacon Gregory observed.

  "I think it's funny that a church that worships the Divine Weapons has a full set of Demonic Armor," Eric responded. The deacons suddenly started murmuring amongst each other as Gregory tried to regain control of the situation.

  "Who told you that?"

  "You did," Eric said as honestly as he could muster. "I wasn't entirely certain, but now I know for sure." Of course, Eric had discovered them a while ago, but the old men didn't need to know that. The continued murmuring from the deacons made Eric smile triuphantly. He might not be able to see, but he could guess what was happening.

  "You are going to die horribly," Gregory grimly stated.

  "Aww, I love you, too."

  "Do you know what we do to heathens? We strip their flesh bare, keeping them just barely alive with the lightest of healing magics. When they are free of flesh, they are hung from their toes and dragged through the streets as the believers throw glass and lemon juice. Only when you have gone mad will you be granted the sweet release of death."

  "Really? I thought you'd go for the standard crucifixion treatment. To each their own, I suppose."

  "I did not finish," Gregory hissed. "Then we will kill anyone who has ever talked to you as though you were a disease. Every book, every pamphlet, every scrap of paper with a reference to you will be burned to erase you from history. All of the people you've tried to help, every soul you've attempted to save, even your closest friends; they will all be purged from this world so that you will not even be a memory."

  There was a long silence in the room as Eric's smirk disappeared, transferring to Deacon Gregory's lips instead. Believing he had won, the deacon turned around, only to hear a throaty noise from Eric. It slowly grew in volume and frequency until Eric could no longer hold it in anymore. The laughter exploded like the pop of a balloon, filling the dungeon with uncharacteristic cheer. It irked Deacon Gregory to no end at Eric's apparent lightness of the situation.

  "What is so funny?" the deacon asked with ire in his tone.

  "It's just," Eric had to force himself to stop laughing, "the interrogator from before said the exact same thing." The laughing grew louder as the leather around Eric's arms started to bend, the chains that tied him to the two boulders starting to lift the enormous weight.

  Eric was breaking free with a laugh that communicated sheer madness.

  The deacons panicked, rushing from the room as the doors closed with a sickening lack of urgency. Two flashes appeared before the door closed, then the door suddenly crushed the two knights attending it as it was blown outward from the room. The deacons all made a mad scramble for the exit, but Eric stepped out with the mask of his gimp suit torn off.

  Even with a malicious smile on his lips, his eyes communicated an infinite sadness that plagued him. Scars covered his cheeks and around his mouth, taking up most of his face.

  Eric was starting to lose his mind.

  In the dank dungeons of the church, the sounds of screams filled the ears as Eric succumbed to his emotions. Once again, he needed to be subdued, and the surefire way the church had was to fill wherever he was with toxic gas. That caused quite a lot of collateral with their dungeons, but it was all to keep Eric inside. If he were to escape, none of them would be safe.

  Eric woke up once more inside of the same room, only this time he was upside down with his legs pulled in a perfect split to hold up the two boulders. He was once again trapped in the gimp suit, only now there were five times the number of buckles. The more he assessed his situation, the more Eric felt tired.

  He felt like things were coming full circle. This was almost exactly what had happened before he had gotten here. Sure, the order was different, but the pain was the same. 

  The pain never stopped. 

  So Eric laughed through it, feeling the pulling in his crotch. 

  In a solitary cell in the deepest part of a prison nobody knew about, laughter filled the air as the insanity became thicker. 

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