“Kada? Ah yes, the little mermaid girl,” Rathe had picked up on Drim’s cry for help. “Don’t worry, I’ve sped up her death. She’s not the brightest one, is she? So I’ll have her crushed before she even realizes what’s happening or can think of what to do. And even if she does manage to use her power, she’ll drown all your friends for me!”

Even though it was partially expected, the demigod still seemed annoyed when the stone walls around them burst into liquid, and they were quickly flooded as had been prophesied. Though he was still in agonizing pain, Drim tried to make a conscious effort to hold his breath, not wanting to inhale any of the rocky water.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to endure for long because the water quickly receded around them, spinning a spiral sphere that was ever-pushing outward. Though The Slayer was relieved to be able to breathe again, Rathe was paying the events no real mind, continuing his torture even with her body half-submerged since none of the other Fiends had reared their heads or surfaced anywhere out of the water.

But the king didn’t need to see them to know where his subjects were. He could feel them all around. And one was close, making their own effort to escape their watery fate—someone that could be relied on to help him escape his current torture. ❝Ipucco!❞

One of Rathe’s hands that was embedded into Drim’s side suddenly exploded, and both demigods’ eyes were drawn to the sound of the gunshot, finding the barrel of a long gun protruding from the sphere of murky water. Even though the man’s vision was likely hampered, he’d nailed his shot. He didn’t need to call out the name of his move, since his weapon had spoken for him. And before Rathe could try anything against him, he fired again, shattering the woman’s other fist.

With both hands destroyed, Drim slipped out of her grasp, though with her fingers still entangled into his veins. Fortunately for him, the ground beneath his feet had just finished becoming solid again, though he hit it hard. The king stumbled, but was able to catch himself from falling despite the state his body was in.

Rathe, however, having repaired her palms and fingers, went to grab him once more and resume where they’d left off. But before she could reach him, she found herself suppressed with more shots. Ipucco had joined his leader on solid ground, though now he wasn’t alone.

Several of the Fiends had escaped the water wall, and while a few needed a moment to recover from their impromptu bath, most began immediately attacking their foe. And since all of the hasty minions had been swept away in the flood as well, they now only had one target.

“I’ll just do it again!” the demigod threatened while she winced through the bombardment. “Crush you or drown you, as many times as it takes until you’re erased from this world!” Just as the room had finished being repaired, back to its starting size and shape, Rathe deigned to destroy it again. But when she applied her power, strangely, she found nothing happened.

Kada popped out of the ground and onto the floor, a little dizzy and wobbly from all the work she’d just done and saving everyone. But she pointed a finger at Rathe and bolstered, “Aha! I bet you’re finding it difficult to move this room again, aren’t you?! See, I’ve spent a lot of the past year in so many of your ruins, most of which were highly unstable, so I became an expert in preventing cave-ins!”

“Look around! I’ve reinforced every wall and the ceiling and floors with beams. And since they’re my creation, you can’t destroy them. Maybe you could crush through them eventually, but you better focus on surviving first!” The Mermaid swapped to her anchor and joined the assault.

Now that her big plan had been foiled, Rathe was back to her original tactics. There was still open rock between the new beams, so she used it to rebuild her army, spawning soldiers all around, but at a much slower pace in far reduced numbers. It was enough that some had to return to their minion-hunting duties, but quite a few were able to continue their attacks on the big boss unimpeded.

And the combined force was much needed to give Drim a chance to recuperate. ❝Alk!❞ If he was going to stay conscious much longer, he needed a break from the pain of having his insides torn to shreds.

“Kiss the Pain Away!” The Plague Doctor’s words were dripping with clear embarrassment that she’d been forced to say such a thing. But at least it was effective.

Suddenly, Drim could breathe a sigh of relief as every ounce of anguish left his body. He spawned several vines around him, and they grabbed hold of his mother’s still-embedded fingers. But they didn’t stop at the surface, with thinner threads digging into the wounds, thrashing through him just as Rathe had done to ensure he rooted out every bit of her stone. Then with a single thankfully-painless effort, he yanked it all out at once.

But now he was gushing green blood everywhere. Fortunately, he didn’t need to call out to Valen for her to know when to step in, stopping the rapid loss and even steadily trying to cram it all back in. Though Drim would need more than that to properly recover. ❝Ahvra!❞

“Mistakes Undone!” The Widdle Witch had some enthusiasm dragged out of her as she cast what could be called a healing spell. Drim’s time was dialed back a few minutes and all of his injuries were erased.

Still, though, the literal torture had left him exhausted, so he could certainly use a boost. ❝Farian!❞

“Strength Serum!” The Doctor dolled out his prescription as he zoomed forward and administered the dose directly into Drim’s spine.

It was much appreciated, and the king perked up right away. He then also waved to Alk that it was fine for her to end her Curse and use it on others since he had some pep back in his step. But still, he didn’t want to experience such agony ever again.

Before that, though, his next call could have been seen as unnecessary, but it still felt prudent. ❝Chorus!❞ The Slayer’s combat outfit had been completely tattered by Rathe’s attacks and soaked in his own blood. As it was, it’d only serve as a nuisance and distraction to get in his way. His options were to shed it entirely or let his producer work their magic.

“All Dressed Up!” The Quick-Changer announced as they sent the Fiendish King on a much briefer trip to the clothing world than before. He was spat out of the consuming wardrobe a second later decked out in his usual garb, but much cleaner, complete, and fitting to his form.

With that out of the way, the man needed some armor to keep himself safe. It was a shame to take it away from his knight who had been putting it to good use, but even though he was the king, he’d be leading the vanguard himself. ❝Tize!❞

“Unlocked Potential!” Though it was the same move that The Refuge had performed thousands of times, apparently it also had a subconscious name that the man was forced to yell just before his light transferred hosts. 『Synchronization Rate: 100%』 Tize turned into the armor that had only made an appearance on very rare occasions. It was black and sleek with a glowing green spectral cape and a flaming crown atop the helm. The Thorned Tyrant had joined the battle.

Drim sprinted forward and sliced both of his bigger blades that had been enhanced and sharpened. The armor also gave him a boost in both power and speed, allowing him to slash with unrelenting force at his foe. Rathe wasn’t able to keep up with the onslaught and began taking hit after hit, every ounce of punishment returned for the pain she’d inflicted.

But the demigod didn’t go down so easily. At some point she stopped really trying to fight back, focusing all of her efforts on regenerating and recuperating her losses, to the point that it felt like Drim’s attacks and all those who were bombarding her from a distance were doing virtually nothing. Yet they couldn’t give up and had to push through.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“She’s caused us to suffer, overwhelmed us, and made us feel weak!” The Fiendish King, with his voice reverberating and empowered from his armor, began a speech to rally his companions as he continued to decimate his enemy with an unrelenting fury of blows. “Now’s our chance to return the favor! We can do this, we will defeat her!”

“Don’t let up! Don’t let her regain even an inch of ground. It may not appear so on the surface, but we’re weakening her at a rapid rate. Even the mental Curses should affect her now! Show her what you can do, what the Fiends For Hire can do when we’re united!”

Despite his rousing words, the man himself actually pulled back away, breaking from his barrage. He spawned countless portals around him, all launching endless volleys of featherless arrows to keep up the pressure. But he had something in mind to take his place and ensure that she had nowhere to run and no chance to escape. ❝Kaizu!❞

“Guilty Conscience!” The Street Sweeper shouted from the shadows, making herself scarce amongst the crowd of attacking Fiends. It became even easier for Kaizu to hide when countless umbral apparitions flooded the room. And they too had one singular target, one fixed point of their hatred and vengeance, millenia of ire fueling them forward—an army of the damned that she’d betrayed with the death of the first world.

Rathe was immediately assaulted by the dark manifestations, all lunging and tearing at her, swarming her like starving insects desperate for a single bite. The demigod fought back of course, clawing madly to get the mawhging regret demons off of her. She effortlessly defeated them one after another, since each individual spawn only roughly had the strength of a regular human.

But just as she’d overwhelmed the Fiends before with her clones, the shadows were relentless. For each one destroyed, more immediately took their place. The only reason she currently didn’t have an entire civilization bearing down on her was due to the sheer lack of space in the divine lair. That and Kaizu would likely die if her Curse was exploited to such an extent.

The unfortunate side effect was that with each bad memory she destroyed, the guilt that burdened her very being vanished for every individual. But the numbers were endless. To kill off each and every one would take lifetimes, or until Kaizu died at the very least. And with every new innocent slain, even if her guilt was eased, Rathe was forced to remember the faces and lives of her past denizens.

While not particularly strong on the physical front—which was supplanted by the Fiends who could now attack freely without worry—the mental toll was obvious. Rathe’s attacks became more sporadic and unfocused, flailing wildly without any plan or aim. She was holding her own, but couldn’t focus on anything but defense and regeneration. But still, it wasn’t enough to fully take her down, or break her spirit, so Drim wanted to tax her even further. ❝Rezin!❞

“Triggered Trauma!” The Nobody squeaked from his battlesuit.

“C-C-Cosmos?!” The Demigod of Haste suddenly flinched, practically cowering away from the open space in front of her. Clearly she was having a hallucination of her father. What he was doing, the Fiends could only speculate, but it seemed that his mere presence or the idea of god suddenly showing up was enough to send his daughter into an immediate panic.

From there, Rathe started to mutter something incoherent, but it almost sounded like she was begging forgiveness. And her hands slowed, no longer fighting off her enemies, taking a brief break to grovel to the invisible deity before she returned to her pitiable self-defense. Though the divine one in front of them was already starting to look practically pathetic, her new tormenter wouldn’t stop there, not until she was completely defeated. ❝Victori!❞

“Disparaging Gossip!” The Kingmaker shouted before she began weaving her rumor. “Did you hear? Everyone is saying the demigod of this world is so incompetent. It’s like she can’t do anything right and even had to remake it because she messed up so badly. And everyone hates her for it. The dead despise her, and the new people want her to stop interfering in their lives.”

“No one even worships her. Apparently her father takes all the credit, and some say that even he’s fed up with her zjik. The world would be better off if she just disappeared!” Though they were cruel words, ultimately, the rumor was entirely based on the truth.

And the added psychological blow was more than Rathe could bear, and she actually tried to escape, though not out the front door as some had feared. Instead, she turned around and waved her arm, creating an opening in the wall between some of the beams Kada had placed. It was fairly small, meaning she’d have to shed most of her size, but the goal was to just get out of her current hell by any means necessary.

Yet she didn’t even get the chance to make a single movement, not a step nor a dash, and instead, fell flat down on her face when she attempted her escape. Vines had been wrapped around her legs, acting as a tripwire. But it was Drimini acting of her own volition rather than her creator that had sprung the trap. Even she recognized the evil that they had to defeat.

It was almost depressing how quickly the intimidating, awe inspiring demigod had been reduced to such a pitiful state. But they couldn’t let up, couldn’t show mercy. The Fiends For Hire had come this far and had to see it through, even if the act disgusted them.

For quite a while now, Drim had prepared himself for the idea that he’d have to act like a villain to see his dreams achieved. And while it bothered him a bit that the others had to be dragged through the mud with him, they were all his accomplices now, and he’d have to rely on their help just a bit further. Victory was in sight, but it would take a bit more fiendish cruelty to secure their win. ❝Mallea!❞

“Dear demigod, you’re not looking well,” The Temp suddenly appeared right in front of Rathe’s face. No one else would dare try to get so close while the stone woman was still being torn asunder by the shadowy horde, but the butler wasn’t perturbed in the slightest, acting like they weren’t even there. “Please, allow me to administer some medicine made by our very own Plague Doctor. Hostile Hospitality!”

Before Rathe could even understand what nonsense had been spouted at her, she found a dose of ‘medicine’ shoved in her mouth—which she didn’t even think she’d opened. Though it was more like a poison, the same rock-affecting diseases that Alk had brewed earlier, though now in a much larger dose and administered orally. The infection then tore through the woman’s igneous being, ripping her apart from the inside as its maker boosted the potency.

The demigod began to writhe on the ground—weakened, assaulted, sick, berated, traumatized, dehumanized—even if she couldn’t be called as such. It was too much for anyone, even a divine entity. But despite it all, Rathe’s pride would not let her be taken down in such a humiliating manner.

❝I refuse!❞ The Demigod of Haste erupted both in volume and power. A blast of light surged from her body. Her divinity exuded from her with such force that it became tangible, instantly disintegrating all the shadows attempting to attack her and freeing herself of her vine bindings.

Every Fiend was pushed back by the sheer power, even The Thorned Tyrant who was slightly staggered and having to lean into the abrupt force to stay upright. But it didn’t last long. The light quickly tapered though it ultimately remained, surrounding Rathe as a ward and warning from any who would dare get too close. She was burning through her divine power at a rapid rate as a last ditch effort of protection.

❝I refuse to be defeated like this!❞ the world’s creator rumbled, the room around them quaking with each word. ❝You have humiliated me for the last time! And I will not stand for it. You ignorant fools. You think you can defeat me with such petty tricks?! Even if I’m hated by all, it doesn’t matter, because the world itself is on my side.❞

❝It is me, and I am everything! No matter what you do to this body, I will always return! As long as even a spark remains, it all belongs to me, and there’s nothing you can do to change that! So surrender now, bow your heads, and give me the respect I deserve. Kneel before your creator, your demigod, your ruler! You owe your existence to me, so the least you can do is kneel!❞

Rathe’s voice erupted, becoming a ghastly wail that reverberated around the room, her piercing shriek making the Fiends eardrums bleed. Her divinity fired out again, rolling over them like a barrage of pulses. They all had to cease their attacks to cover their ears and hunker down like a typhoon was surging over them.

Though he likely didn’t even need to issue the order for the recipient to know what needed to be done, only one voice cut above the devastating noise. ❝Egawo… Shut her up!❞

“Mute!” A rather simple name for the move, but at least The DJ’s ability was entirely self-explanatory. Rathe’s wail turned immediately silent. The pulsation of her divinity still remained, but without the accompanying ear-assault, it became that far more bearable to withstand, to the point that it was hardly more than a rough breeze.

To fill the room with noise again, The Fiendish King made his next call. ❝And Roque… prove her wrong!❞

“With pleasure!” The Swindler snickered. “Exploitive Expropriation! Well that just makes me sound heartless, doesn’t it? But it’s not far off the mark. Your world is mine, now!”