A magical contract unfurled, and Roque moved it near Rathe’s face to ensure she got a good look as he carried out his king’s orders. Depicted upon the parchment was the entire globe, or rather nearly. Only one spot wasn’t fully pencilled-in. But it was etching slowly and steadily, filling the gaps.
“As you’ve been weakening, good demigod, I’ve been taking what you’ve lost this entire time!” Roque began to laugh like a proper villain. “Every inch of the world that’s abandoned you, shunned you for your enfeeblement, they’ve come to recognize their new owner. Let me show you just how much you have left!”
Around the room, the light of Rathe’s divinity that was etched into the walls began to fade. The area darkened, illuminated only by the now-dimmed sconces, closing in on the demigod until only an ever-shrinking spotlight remained.
“That’s it!” the greedy landowner proclaimed. “That’s all you have left, your last slice of this planet. And when you’re gone, it will be all mine! Err… ours!”
❝This can’t be!❞ Rathe was in utter disbelief. ❝No, this world is mine! Get your hands off of it! I’ll take it all back!❞ Then without any care for herself, The Demigod of Haste went on a last-ditch effort rampage. She covered what parts of her body that she could with arms and hunched. And then she dashed forward, zooming around the room in bursts just like the Fiends themselves used her blessing of speed.
She was attempting to cause some form of devastation without any real aim. Roque nor any of the other Fiends tormenting her were her particular target, she just thrashed randomly, hoping to make any amount of her torture stop. And every time she moved, she’d pause briefly to infuse her divinity into the ground, trying to reclaim her territory. But when she dashed away again, The Swindler was quick to steal it back, making it a pointless effort.
And because her enemies could match her, most were able to entirely dodge out of the way of her bursts with their own. Those that were still having a bit trouble applying their reflexes at such high speeds were moved away by Phon. So the rampage itself was just a waste of energy.
Still, with her moving around so much, it was hard to inflict any more damage. They had to get her to stay put. But even trapping her at those velocities would prove difficult. The best way was to intercept her head on. And the king knew just the right person for the job. Who better than to match her speed than the original master of it. ❝Gatrim!❞
“Blinding Flash!” The Memory went a bit more fantastical over literal with his attack name. He surged straight into the demigod’s path, piercing forward with his rapier. He collided with just the right spot in Rathe’s defense to not only stop her, but to stagger her, and to send her arms reeling, leaving her completely vulnerable.
❝Rusa!❞ Drim chose who he thought would be most reliable to capitalize on the advantage during the small window.
“Critical Weak Points!” The Royal zoomed forward and rapidly stabbed the demigod’s stone body repeatedly with her pointed cane, managing to perfectly strike between the craggy cracks with each one, jamming into the being’s equivalence of joints. That made Rathe crumble to the ground, disabling her movement entirely.
Though it was foolish to think that she wouldn’t be able to recover, so they had to cripple her for good. And there was one way that Drim could think of to wholly encumber her. ❝Valen!❞
“Drowning Transfusion!” The Bloodletter sprang forward, sending just a few small drops of blood flying towards their foe. They wormed their way into the openings Rusa had just made and embedded themselves deep into the pseudo nervous system. Finally, a use for the one blood that Valen had otherwise deemed worthless: Jaid’s blood, which only had the ability to create more of itself.
“Enjoy a taste of what it means to be human, to have blood running through your veins!” A second later, a flood of blue blood erupted from the demigod’s body, gushing out of every gap and pore, becoming a nightmarish stone fountain that would haunt anyone’s dreams. And the supply was never ending, meaning Rathe could never fully expunge or replace it, forever bogged down by humanity.
And it was finally the right time, the opening Thorn, The Demigod of Nurture, needed to take her down for good. Drim rushed forward, parting the sea of shadows that were still trying to attack the tarnished deity. He grabbed onto Rathe’s throat with his armored hand. And then he activated a power that was a mix of new and old.
He couldn’t siphon away her life, because she had none of the energy that allowed the rest of them to function and exist. Rather, he targeted something exclusive to her, what she coveted most of all, her divinity. ❝Divine Drain!❞
The rush of energy was instant, and Drim was immediately overwhelmed. It felt like his insides were tearing themselves apart, desperately trying to rewrite his structure just to make more room for even an ounce more of divinity. With each second he siphoned, he felt less like a person and more like concentration of power itself.
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But that was fine. As long as he defeated her for good, The Fiendish King was willing to pay any price regardless of what he’d become. He only hoped that they’d weakened her to the point that there wasn’t too much of her existence left to claim.
Still, it proved more than he could bear on his own. So he resorted to a trick for when he consumed too much life. A full forest sprouted out of The Slayer in every direction, blooming creation until the room was blossoming with bushes and trees—every flower and plant imaginable. And he used the flora as vessels to hold the overflowing divinity, turning it into an enchanted garden worthy of the heavens.
Yet the burden was still too much with no end in sight. And the divine power began to spark around his body, unleashing bolts of raw energy that he could no longer contain. But he was afraid to let the excess flow freely, worried that Rathe would somehow be able to reclaim it. And as long as there was even a drop left, the being known as The Demigod of Haste could someday recover and return.
So Drim committed, no longer caring for his own safety. He’d take it all, even if it killed him, or even if what he turned into could no longer be considered a person. But that was when something unexpected happened. Even though he was in armor and couldn’t feel the literal touch, he noticed the presence of someone connected to him.
It was Phon, she had grabbed his shoulder and joined the transfer, becoming another vessel. Though it wasn’t too much in the grand scheme, she absorbed every ounce of divine energy she could, and probably a bit more that she shouldn’t have. Any amount possible to lessen her brother’s burden.
And she wasn’t the only one. Each and every member of the Fiends For Hire grabbed onto him in turn. Those that couldn’t reach his body grabbed onto one of the others, becoming a link in the chain, all doing what they could to make sure Drim didn’t have to tackle this alone. The last was Jaid who grabbed onto his waist and then created as many clones as she could manfiest, filling the forest with a new army, solely devoted to keeping their king alive.
With everyone’s help, it suddenly felt doable. The agonizing strain began to weaken, allowing Drim to refocus and increase the rate of transfer, allocating it efficiently everywhere he could to ensure no one else would break from the power surge. And now he was starting to see the end. The well of Rathe’s divinity was about to dry up. She wasn’t long for the world. No, rather she wouldn’t be the world for much longer.
Yet the young demigod’s ‘mother’ did regain a modicum of control, just enough to raise her head. She looked her ‘son’ straight in the eyes, as if she could see beneath his mask. And her face was filled with sadness, regret, scorn, and hatred, every emotion that she had failed to show before that had led her to her fate.
“Don’t blame me for this!” Drim wouldn’t accept her ire, his voice booming like never before, the words themselves leaking divine force. “You gave me this power. You gave me life. It was you who proved yourself a ruler we couldn’t trust. You who failed your station when you deemed your charges disposable. This is all your doing. So face the consequences you’ve made!”
❝We denounce you as our demigod, as our creator! Begone! Back to your own maker! Let him decide what becomes of you, and leave this world to us!❞ With a final burst, the last spark of divinity flowed out of Rathe’s body and into Drim’s hand. And then abruptly, ‘the world’ came to an end.
Every inch of the stone of the demigod disintegrated, becoming nothing more than gravel on the floor. And the Fiends that had been clinging to their leader suddenly felt an overwhelming relief. The divinity that was stored in their bodies began to naturally leave them and dissolve since their existences weren’t built to contain it, returning back to the ether. Though some dregs did remain embedded. Perhaps one day they could turn it into power of their own, with the right amount of nurture.
The same mostly happened for Drim. It was far too much for him to carry, so he expunged most of Rathe’s divinity. But where he could, he stored every ounce possible. It wasn’t power he’d be able to tap into immediately since it would need to be refined and made into his own, but he imagined he’d find some use for it down the line.
And then Thorn cleared up the rest, reabsorbing every plant in the room all at once. Thankfully, since it was all his own creations, the nausea he would have normally gotten from absorbing so much was avoided. Though now that he’d just endured the worst siphon of his life, those effects might be dwindled in the future.
『Unsync』 the armor’s system accepted the final command from the king, ending Drim’s symbiosis with Tize, freeing the man to join the others. Among the members it was a mixed bag of emotion, mostly uncertainty and exhaustion.
“Did we do it?!” Kada had to ask, clearly hesitant to not try and jinx the situation.
“Is she dead?” Xard needed to confirm, still waving his finger around like a pointed pistol, waiting for any patch of the ground to start shifting. A few of the others scattered around as well, wanting to make sure the deceased demigod couldn’t pull any surprise tricks.
“Yes, we did it,” The Fiendish King confirmed, though his tone was more somber than ecstatic. “Rathe is no more!”
But even if he wasn’t in the mood to celebrate their victory, it didn’t stop the others. Cheers erupted all around. There were endless hugs, handshakes, and slaps on the back of elation. In mere moments the battlefield started to shift towards a party. Rishaki pulled out some bottles and glasses, and the group would soon be toasting their win.
So it pained the king to thrust them into conflict once more, but it couldn’t wait.
“Get a glass everyone! It’s finally over!” Nachi was the first in line to fill her cup. And that phrasing was specifically what prompted the retort.
“No, it’s not over!” Drim suddenly cut into their fun. “Don’t drop your guards everyone, nor your weapons. We still have one more enemy we need to stop.” Thorn raised his hand and pointed an accusatory finger into the crowd. ❝Once more, Jaid has betrayed us!❞