Novels2Search
Dark Creator - The God of Nothing
Chapter 19 - Monster of human form.

Chapter 19 - Monster of human form.

----------------------------------------

An arrow pierced through the demon’s neck, thin skin tearing easily to the sound of a grating roar as its jaw split like a snake’s.

The demon dove at the charging paladins, Taloned fingers the length of dagger blades tipped with blackened skin ready to tear at their muscle and bone until they moved no longer. Jagged teeth jutted from its maw like tombstones in a graveyard, the torn flesh of the demon’s split jaw refusing to bleed. The sky started to darken as wind began to pick up.

The cold and stretched skin of its hands slammed against the raised shield of one of the paladins with the force of a rampaging bull, before pulling back to dodge the swing of the other paladin’s warhammer.

Another arrow found its spot in the center of the demon’s chest, as a second flew past its ear. With a tearing scream, it turned from the paladins, dashing toward the two rangers with speed that made them dizzy. The rangers readied another pair of arrows, but before they could free them, the demons black-tipped claws landed on them.

The sound of their heads being liberated from their bodies was met by a defiant shout from the only knight of the combined parties, the horrified scream of the two healers, and the guttural laugh-like bellow of the demon.

A slash from the knight cut through the demons back vertically, black sand being thrown from the wound, surprising it and prompting a howl of rage that tore at the adventurer's ears. Twisting faster than anything, it brought its talons forward, one blocking another wild swing from the knight and the other piercing the throat of a rogue who tried to sneak behind it. Rain began to fall, the wind now raging like a wild river, ripping at the cloak of the demon with untamed fury.

With a roar to match its own, one of the paladins charged at demon ready to trample it under the immense weight of their holy armor.

In the time it took for the other paladin to blink, the charging warrior and the knight were dead, the demons claws having torn through the paladin’s back and the Knights stomach with the precision and speed of the best rangers on the continent.

Its gaunt form stood over their shredded bodies like a wolf stood over its fallen prey, sharp pearl teeth bared and blackened claws ready.

The remaining rogue took the opportunity to run. The last paladin readied his warhammer and shield, the two healers safe behind him.

The demon’s smile widened further, tearing the skin of its cheeks, revealing an uneven grin that stretched from one ear to the other. Eyes hidden by the shadow cast by its cloak twinkled like the far away stars that children would sit and watch at night.

It raised its arms– now stretching to its knees, dagger length fingers dripping red with the blood of their fallen friends– to a mocking invitation, tilting its head like a curious animal, grinning like a madman.

Rain poured from the sky like blood from a wound. Wind howled through the still streets.

----------------------------------------

Taro looked upon the twisted form of the demon.

Its hood had fallen from its head, revealing a curled mess of grey hair that wouldn’t look out of place on a famous bard. Its eyes were completely empty, nothing but gaping holes in its face. The thin grey stubble that coated its chin made it look vaguely handsome, or would if the rest of it wasn’t so disgustingly misshapen.

He gripped the handle of his warhammer tighter, the rain slick on the leather. Behind him, the two healers, Aina and Yori, alongside the two mages, Kokoro and Juro, shivered in the cold and relentless wind, but were otherwise unharmed and ready to fight.

Then Juro sent a bolt of lightning at the demon.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Unprepared, it struck in the center of its chest, but through the cloud of dust and smoke he could already see the silhouette of the demon begin to recover.

Taro wouldn’t give it the chance. He charged with his shield raised and his warhammer ready, glowing with the power of the gods. With the strength to stagger a carriage-sized golem, Taro struck, a flash of holy light tearing at the skin of the demon.

A furious roar emerged from the smoke, followed by a broken, smoking arm the length of a tree. As the smoke cleared, the demon’s form became clearer.

Its human shape had been irreparably destroyed, bones shattered and twisted, flesh torn and burned. It stood at the height of a house, smoking robes stretched unnaturally to fit its enormous body. Its chest had collapsed and its jaw had been crushed, hanging loose as dark flakes of ash mixed with the rain and wind.

A fireball sent by Kokoro was intercepted by one of its carriage wheel-sized hands as it threw its twisted form at the party like an enraged bull, throwing Taro to the ground as it tore towards the mages, arms forward.

Clutching his dented chestplate, Taro swung his warhammer as it passed him, crushing one of its legs beneath the head of the holy weapon. Undeterred, the demon smashed through a hastily conjured shield, and before the eyes of the paladin and the healers, tore the mages to pieces.

The gaping holes where its eyes should have been stared into Taro’s horrified face, mangled jaw contorted into an uneven, jagged, open-mouthed grin that split its head horizontally.

Taro could feel it turn its attention to the two healers, frozen in terror and shock.

If it could speak through its shattered throat, over its mutilated tongue, between its broken teeth, Taro knew what it would say to him, words echoing through his head without a voice to say them.

You’ll go last.

And it twisted, turned its massive shape towards the frozen healers, destroyed arm ready to smash them to paste.

Taro saw Aina come out of her trance first.

He saw the limb begin to move downwards.

He saw Aina prepare a spell.

And he remembered something.

----------------------------------------

Healing is a complex and far from well understood type of magic.

It shares a lot in common with holy magic, but to call them the same would be foolish. What is understood however, is the adverse effect it has on that which is or should be dead. The state of undeath, usually induced by necromancy, is the act of reanimation. It is not to bring back to life, rather to prompt the body with a new state of existence, that being not-dead.

Being alive and being not-dead are very different, and as almost all healing spells are designed for use on the living (with the omission of Berezi's exception) they hurt the undead rather than heal them, as the status of not-dead is reliant on not being alive.

Interestingly, this also applies to demons.

During the insurrection of King Kichiro, he summoned a demon in order to bargain his soul for safety from the insurrectionists. In a panic, a nearby cleric cast a healing spell on the demon by accident, causing the demon great pain and a deterioration of its body in the targeted area.

The reasoning behind this is highly contested, with theories ranging from demons being classified as undead, to the reasoning being that as demons oppose the gods, they suffer the opposite of intended spells. The true reasoning may never be known, as it was decided during the following reign of Queen Ren that summoning demons for any reason, even to kill the summoned demon, was illegal.

- Excerpt from "The Techniques and Tricks of Magic" by Esila the always-late

----------------------------------------

Taro sent a prayer to the gods as the spell touched the flesh of the demon, skin blistering a bubbling as it began to crumble to dust.

He raised his warhammer one last time as the roar of pain from the monster who wore the skin of a man readied itself to bring a painful death upon the healer who had hurt it.

Taro dove, hammer glowing golden through the ruthless rain and the all-consuming wind.

And as the head of the hammer crushed the skull of the monster, the glow penetrated every centimeter of the titanic beast, and its body exploded first into shards of stone and then into motes of black dust.

Before he gave in to his exhaustion and injury, Taro locked eyes with one of the skaven skeletons lying in the ruins of the library. Undisturbed by the battle, One of its arms was extended outwards towards him, while the other clutched a weathered spellbook.

He closed his eyes. Exhaustion caught his battered form.

The wind and rain refused the sound of Aina screaming his name.

----------------------------------------