Despite being called a Demon Hunter, I felt like my time actually hunting demons was few and far between. More akin to an exterminator, or occasionally a punching bag. Noir enough to be a detective, but only asking questions in the shape of a pointed demonic bullet. Something about it didn’t feel right, as if the paint was peeling away and I could see what lay below. Nothing good. Nothing surprising.
Our feet took us through more dead trees and deep red soil. It had been a few minutes that felt like hours, and the scenery hadn’t budged an inch, as if we were walking through a set loop. Having a taste for it, I could tell it wasn’t some corruption oddity - it was just a weird and expansive woodland.
“Hey, Wight?” I felt around my teeth with my tongue, counting them.
[Yes, Eric?]
All present and correct. “You can’t lend your power for the True version of my abilities due to my Lantern powers, right?”
[Yes, Eric.]
“How about…” I narrowed my eyes at the horizon in thought, before I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “You just use the skill yourself?”
[I do not think that is…]
His sentence fell off as my statement sunk into his head, pushing out the amount of doubt he had gathered. With clawed fingers tapping on the shotgun, he lifted it up to observe it. I funneled my power through my pact weapon. If we had one less tied to me, then his energy could fully fuel it.
//Caution, detecting hostiles ahead. Multiple.
I didn’t need to look up to know what they were. Right on cue, some Imps had located us. Slightly to our front left, from behind the dark trees, they emerged into the sky. Small bodies of dark red, black wings, and glowing yellow eyes. Even now, I could hear their high-pitched chittering that brought back memories. I shivered and spun my revolver.
[Let us find out how well your theory works. The Org does not allow-]
“Org, pah!” I shook my head. “You do what you want, Wight. Stop letting them tell you what is possible.”
His beak opened and closed, but he just nodded. I saw the spark in his crimson eyes. It was time for us to break the rules, no matter the cost.
//Twenty hostiles, contact imminent.
I raised my revolver up as the cloud of cackling demons swarmed towards us, most hovering over the treetops, but a few slipped in between all the dark trunks. Although I could start firing now, I waited to see what Wight would do first. My interest was fully piqued, at the top of the mountain, looking down with excitement at the possibilities. If we didn’t fall.
Closer now, and my patron raised the shotgun up, bracing the short stock against his shoulder so that he could look down the sight. Red light danced through all the engravings as his energy filled it. Professional curiosity had my full attention. As his clawed finger pressed against the trigger, I felt it happen even before my human senses got a glimpse.
Instead of being bright red, the trails of his tenfold shot were pitch black. Even though they were sequential, they burst forth as if it was a normal buckshot blast. Each railed through a flying demon and their bodies were disintegrated in mid-air as if frozen.
Wight dropped the gun and shook his hands as if it had burned him.
“Everything okay?” My weapon was now up and I put some normal shots into the closest three Imps, small bursts as the divine payload opened up inside their small bodies.
[That felt very wrong. I do not understand.]
“Entropy?”
[I do not know. I am confused.]
My gun spun in my hand as the casings ejected out and I reloaded. Five Imps left and five shots. I did not miss. As the last of them dropped to the ground, I reloaded again and spun it back into the holster. Concern over my brow, I turned to my patron.
He looked sad and stood staring at his outstretched palms. While he had acted it, he wasn’t burned or had any damage on his body.
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//Hostiles neutralized.
“Talk to me, Wight? Did you give me Entropy?”
His head slowly moved up to me, thoughts clearly swirling through his mind. It was almost like he didn’t have to tell him. Although we weren’t using telepathy, I could read his mind. The cracks had begun to show on who he really was. What he really was.
[If I did, it was not consciously.]
“That’s quite the development, though. A clue to the full you? You have the ability to use your powers offensively.”
Wight nodded slowly and then bent down to pick the shotgun back up. He racked the spent shell out and tilted his head.
[I probably will avoid using abilities until we know more.]
With a tip of my hat, we continued our journey. His version of the True Shot was impressive. The ability to tear a wide area down to dust was almost as powerful as putting a lot of holes through things. It did make me wonder, though… did Entropy destroy my hand before because I was using it outside of my pact weapon?
I had thought the Rat God’s power was just too strong for my body, but if it was something granted by Wight—even without him knowing—then not using my revolver would be detrimental to me. More puzzle pieces that fit together.
But what of the whole?
Wight was a demon… as far as we both knew. Certainly, he gave me demonic power, so that couldn’t be disputed. But he didn’t seem like a Formless or Ascended demon. Was he something like the Rat God? The thought of it chilled me. I had seen the full form of the eldritch entity, and it was overwhelmingly horrifying. Perhaps it would be better if I didn’t fill my head with such dread.
One glance at my patron and it looked like he was doing the same.
When it rains, it pours. If anything, the rate of the reveals and twists certified to me that the end of the world was nigh. Or at least the end of me—which was the same thing, if I were to be selfish.
“I wonder when Pearl’s birthday is?” I asked out loud, if only to change the course of our thoughts.
Did demons even have birthdays? She was around the same age as me, so there must be some kind of… birth day. I’d never seen a baby demon before. Apart from the mantid spawn. Did they get demonic maternity leave? Perhaps thinking of Wight’s problem would be better use of my brain cells.
//I’ll see if I can find out.
I held a thumb up in the air. “I suppose there isn’t much point asking you, Wight.” He hardly knew what he was. I doubted he had been given the benefit of knowing much of his early life.
[Oddly, I don’t think I have been born yet.]
While I nodded, I wasn’t too sure what he was getting at. Was this some kind of pupa stage, and he was going to grow up to be a beautiful death butterfly? Perhaps he just wasn’t his full power, so didn’t feel like his whole self. Either way, this was way too much thinking for a brain craving demonic bloodshed and birthday cake. Probably not together, but I wasn’t discounting it.
//Hostiles. Twenty-five left, thirty forward right. Fifty-five total.
I tipped down the brim of my hat to block out some of the overpowering ambient light and focus. The ones to the left were a little further out than on the right. Still, the number of them was exhausting at best. Potentially prickly at worst.
“This might get a little rough, bud.” I spun my revolver out and drew Pearl’s Salvation out into my left hand.
Wight mimicked my movements, drawing his own knife as he pumped the shotgun single-handed.
Potentially my best birthday ever. I couldn’t help but grin even as a cloud of demons swarmed down upon us.
My foot-wide beam scoured through three of them, the crack of the half-destroyed tree amongst them snapping to collapse across another of the Imps.
A blast rang out from beside me as Wight fired the shotgun with straight demonic power. Shell bounced across the soil as he racked the next shot, blowing a wide hole through a flying demon.
Maybe an area attack would be useful, rather than something defensive, without us needing to go into his Domain. Oh, I suppose I could use the-
A handful of Imps dodged out of the way of the lobbed projectile before one unlucky opponent hadn’t seen it coming. An explosion of white and red light flashed out amongst them, knocking several to the ground, even if they weren’t close enough to be shredded by the damage.
Three shots into the closest still in the air and then I turned my gun to the side to assist the slower Wight.
My own shotgun blast of simultaneous red beams scored holes through over a dozen of the demons. It felt awkward to use the basic version of this skill again, the difference between the Hell and Lantern abilities clearer than day when used beside each other. Still, it had the right effect, and the remaining Imps began turning tail to escape.
I turned my head in surprise to see the orb of pure darkness flung from the shotgun careening through the air as if in slow motion. The retreating Imps didn’t even have the wherewithal to turn and escape. As it struck one, the explosion was unlike anything I had seen before.
A flash of darkness and a sphere of black light shook from the impact, immediately vanishing to show everything in that radius had been converted to nothing but ash. Gray powder dropped from the air and blew across through the woods like foul snow.
I whistled. “Wow.”
//Hostiles are running. No threat.
[Amusing how even when we know not to do something, we still persist.]
“Story of my life, bud. How did that feel?” I ejected casings to the floor and holstered the revolver.
[Still uncomfortable… but in a way that was familiar.]
I nodded. It was still no closer to the truth, but for now, it didn’t even matter. Wight was able to fight for himself. We had become a duo in a way that no other Hunter had. Slowly the bound pact was unraveling, and as much as his freedom scared me, I was here for it. Destiny.
“Shotgun seems to be working great. Full compliments to both yourself and Passage.” I waved my hand in the air. “Gives me ideas.”
//Our pleasure. And, oh no.
[Let us find this coven, Eric. I thirst to hone myself against the malcontents on this plane.]
“Story of my life.” I grinned as I repeated the phrase, and we set off in search of our those foolish enough to not fear us.
He stopped to knife a squirming Imp, who wasn't quite dead yet. As the blade slowly pushed through the neck of the demon, the hint of a smile peaked at the corner of his beak.
[Welcome to the end.]