Flames rose up from the peak of the mountain. So intense was their brightness, they could be seen from its base thousands of miles away.
Jinea looked away from the flames, drawn by a chirping voice.
“This is the Mountain of Tears or Hell Number 401-B, not to be confused with the Mountain of Seawater or the Cliff of Tears,” the Scourge gleefully explained. “You’re here to hunt soul worms. There should be some if you walk a bit — but try not to get too far up or you might get noticed by the pig demons up top?”
“Pig demons?”
“Something like that,” the Scourge scoffed. “They’re four times your height and a hundred times your weight — and they fly on tiny wings. Strange really — most likely for show like the ones on dragons.”
“I’m just supposed to hunt for worms?” Jinea asked. It seemed like a simple task, but the Scourge would not have taken her to hell if it was.
“Big worms — with fangs,” he clarified. “And don’t let your fires die — not even for a second. This place is filled with jerms. If you’re not careful, you might turn into one of those worms yourself.”
“The worms are people?”
“They used to be,” the Scourge shrugged. “Most of them belong here — but you might encounter one or two innocent souls who were sacrificed against their will.”
“What should I—“
“Kill them all. That’s the most merciful thing you can do for them.”
The Scourge turned to leave as they previously discussed. Jinea wanted to protest, but she remembered how Jeremy remarked that she had gone to the Scourge for training and that she would be trained accordingly.
She took her first steps forward. Her wariness and fear felt like a wall in front of her — but determination pushed her onward.
Jinea took a deep breath to calm her nerves. The air was surprisingly clean, not something she expected from hell. The ambient mana was lighter or purer — similar to the mana in her pendant. She wondered why the Scourge demanded they only use mana from the pendants and avoid taking in mana from the air back home — now, she understood.
She assumed the mana in hell would be tainted — more so than the world’s. She imagined demons were driven to cruelty and bloodthirst by mana, similar to how powerful wizards were by the end of their lives.
It was not so. As the Scourge said, infernal mana was clean. Jinea paused for a moment. It could be one great deception perpetrated by hell itself — tricking people into thinking infernal mana was pure.
There was no way to tell. It took decades for mana sickness to take hold. By then, it would be too late. She just hoped she wouldn’t grow horns or scales.
It took her half a mile of walking before she saw a soul worm. A disgusting thing — it crawled with its bulbous body as its human head slowly swept left and right to see the path ahead. It had a sinister look on its face — filled with anger and resentment. Jinea imagined the atrocities the man committed in his previous life to deserve such transformation — but quickly eliminated the thoughts from her head. She was not there to sympathize with the creature. She was there to kill it.
The creatures were vulnerable to magic. She could even use fire magic if she wanted — though the Scourge warned her against overt displays of power. The demons residing at the peak of the enormous mountain could crush her beneath their feet without needing to use magic — and they were very powerful spellcasters.
She first thought about freezing the creature and waiting until it succumbed to the cold — but the mana involved would linger with the ice. The spell fluctuations would be easier to spot and detection would put her in a very bad spot.
Fire then.
She took out her aspen wand, remembering the fear she felt when she first took it from the Scourge’s hand. As she did then, she pushed away her fear. Mana filled her being — a strange coolness cleared her mind and sharpened her senses.
A bolt of fire shot from her hand, striking the worm-like abomination and engulfing it in blue flames. For a moment, she wished they were the purple flames of hellfire. Only three of her peers managed to summon the deadly flames — even with the Scourge’s tutelage. It took a strange mindset to summon the flames — not malice or evil, but an almost desperate need for efficiency.
She was careful not to let the flames surrounding her dissipate, lest she be infected or transformed. There was a slight break as the bolt of fire drew mana from her flaming hand, but it shouldn’t be enough to cause problems.
The burning creature thrashed on the ground, whimpering as it choked on the flames of her spell. It was strangely efficient. Gwin was right to teach them simple spells. There was unbridled power in the spells the Scourge taught, but the elf’s spells were more accurate.
Whether from desperation or spite, the soul worm managed to momentarily disrupt the flames surrounding its head with a burst of mana. It took a breath and wailed with its last ounce of strength before collapsing to the ground.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Damn.
Jinea didn’t know if the creature’s dying scream would bring its kind swarming, but she knew she had to leave the place. An extended battle in one place would be hard to miss. She started to walk. There was no sun or stars to note for directions, so she just walked forward.
She offered a prayer for the soul of the thing she burned alive, realizing that the prayer was more for herself than her victim. She had destroyed the creature’s soul — but doing so released it from its eternal suffering.
Was it the right thing to do? Did the Scourge bring her here so that she could search her soul for the answer? Was it a test of morality?
Jinea shook her head. She would rather not think about those things at the moment. The important thing was that she was given instructions — and she would follow those instructions as much as she could.
It didn’t take her long to encounter more soul worms. Three of them were crawling in her direction, most likely drawn by their kin’s scream. She could see the predatory look on their faces, their fangs exposed as they seemingly tasted the air to find their prey.
The things were tracking her!
This was no time to be subtle or accurate. A long battle against the three worms would attract others and their formation made it suitable for her usual spells.
Flames erupted from the ground engulfing the creatures. Jinea poured more mana into her spells, preventing the burning creatures from taking a breath. She directed her flames into their mouths and throats just to be sure, even as she shrank from the cruelty of her actions.
More would be coming.
She fled the place before the burned corpses withered and dissipated. She did not like being hunted or the feeling of slowly being cornered. It was unacceptable. Her mindset changed as she willfully discarded her former thoughts. She would not be the prey — she will be the one doing the hunting.
***
Jeremy watched Jinea dispatch the three demons with ease. Fire was the worst way to kill the worms. Very little of their already damaged soul would be left — certainly not enough to significantly empower her.
Draining their life was the best way and decapitation was the next best thing. She couldn’t fault the girl for not knowing — but he was disappointed that she couldn’t sense the vast amounts of mana residing within the worms.
What was taking them so long? The girl’s ruckus should have brought down one of the demons from their elevated thrones. His primary goal was to capture one of them to use for his vambraces, the girl’s advancement was a happy coincidence.
“How are things on your side, Shelby?” he sent a mental message to his gargantuan familiar.
Fine, she replied. Many rocks.
The rocks beneath the mountain were their secondary reason for coming. Mithril and adamantine were excellent metals for fortifying weapons — but they paled in comparison to infernal iron. A weapon made from the metal would be almost indestructible and its unholy properties made it even more so.
It could absorb the life essence of those killed or wounded by it — using the essences to fortify itself or repair any form of damage. It was a weapon that grew with its wielder — though it could also get stolen and benefit its current owner.
A weapon like that would fetch a hefty price — but he was hesitant to unleash such potentially destructive forces on the world. The infernal iron was solely for his and his minion’s use.
Four more worms fell to the girl, then another two, then five. Jeremy spotted something red descending from above, attracted by the wanton killings. He waited for the creature to come closer to see if his assumption was correct.
He was not mistaken. It was one of the rulers of the mountain — a pig-like demon.
Jeremy turned to check on his disciple. She was being swarmed by four of the creatures and another three were on the way. She didn’t appear to be exhausted, she was just timing her spells to target the most number of enemies. It was a good chance for her to learn about pressure.
A bolt of hellfire made the flying demon change its course. It turned to Jeremy, a look of greed and hunger on its face as it saw what was before him.
The wizard sensed psychic power building up to a crescendo before it was sent towards him. He was familiar with the ability. It dealt with fear, causing its target to see visions of its most horrible nightmares. It was a great ability — one that he intended to add to his vambraces.
The wave of psychic energy crashed into him. Any other mortal would have been left dazed and reliving their fears — but he was largely unaffected. Why would he be? He was living his greatest fear as far as he could remember. Almost two decades of living a nightmarish life made his fears seem boring.
The demon mistook his moment of introspection for fear and confusion. It dived to grab its treasure — a conduit to the mortal plane and hell.
It was not to be. Jeremy held out the Painful Staff of Pain and swiped as the demon got close. The staff’s mist-like blade passed through the demon’s body — bisecting it in half if it was solid.
“What did you—“
Jeremy lifted his free hand slowly. He made as if he was crushing a heart or something of similar density and gooeyness as he sucked the demon’s quasi-soul into a gem that served as an eye to one of his snake bone vambraces.
Three more to go.
***
A lone serpent rode the waves of the ether. Soon it would emerge in the material plane and begin its hunt for the wizard. There were many that came before it. Dozens of its brethren were sent to find the wizard and bring him to justice — but they fell to the hands of an elemental.
It felt no sorrow or rage for its fallen kin. They were created to serve a purpose — to maintain balance and order. The wizard stole a god from its final abode. An ancient turtle god from a forgotten land. The theft was felt by their creator, the one who oversaw the gods’ repose.
They were sent to find the wizard to let others know that such a thing was frowned upon. Several were sent during the first few days after the theft — but the guardian elemental proved strong. Their creator changed tactics, opting to send only one of them at a time. Not that he cared for their existence or their numbers — they were legion and more could be spawned.
It was time. Their creator had time and he was in no rush to dispense justice. When the wizard was the most unguarded, when he least expects it — one of them would strike and dig its fangs into the wizard’s flesh. It may not be him, but the end was inevitable.