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20. In which I do not kill an angel (as if I could win that fight)

20. In which I do not kill an angel (as if I could win that fight)

Inside the Angel was a place best described as “dreamlike poetry”. It completely failed to explain anything, but so would any other metaphor. Senses blurred with stories and one another alike. I could smell the anger and helplessness in the air, and I could feel “bleeding” like it was an emotion. As such, everything I’m saying I perceived inside the angel is more than a little incorrect.

A net of skin towered over and surrounded me, large enough to see from at least hundreds of feet away. That was the Angel, or at least a big part of them. The gaps in the net were at least large enough to fit a person through, but with nothing behind the angel, there was no way to know how large they truly were. Where the “ropes” of flesh intersected, other organs sometimes showed through. The two most common were a massive eye or a mesh covering, but dozens of inexplicable parts were visible across its body.

Lines of barbed wire haphazardly wrapped around and stretched across the Angel, sticking to its flesh and drawing blood everywhere they touched. The wire wasn’t natural. This Angel had a form of flesh and blood; metal wouldn’t be part of its body.

In a more metaphorical sense, I could see the trauma, and hear the distortion in the dripping of the blood. I could taste the purification-by-fire in the air, and it wasn’t a good picture. This thing was horrifically damaged, warped into a shape it had never been meant to have.

When it happened to a human we could at least try to fix it, but the Angel wasn’t even capable of that. The chains cut into the very core of its being, and it couldn’t even think against them. Every eye glared down at me, filled with hatred. I could taste it in the air, the Angel hated everything but it hated people more. It had been broken into a monster of uncontrolled hate with no say in the matter.

It spoke with a voice that somehow sounded amputated, “You are unworthy to exist.”

If it could just strike me down in an instant, it would’ve. But Angels had rules, and for this one, I had to be allowed to defend myself. That said, I couldn’t disagree with anything it said, or I would die. The Angel was much stronger than me, at least in here. I had to convince it that it shouldn’t kill me, because if it shouldn’t then it couldn’t. Fortunately, it was not as complex as convincing a human of this.

“You don’t deserve to kill me.” I answered, “You are bound by worse things, and you are not doing this of your own judgment.”

The Angel lashed out for an instant. I was slammed by a massive wave of blood. I was washed away from the landmass I had been standing on and slammed into rocks underneath the surface of the pool of blood. I struggled to the surface, and eventually managed to catch my breath.

Before it could attack again, I hurled out [Blood of the Sacrificed]. The Angel wasn’t my enemy, and it deserved healing, willing or not. There were no boundaries to this skill here, because this dream had no concept of space. Eris’ blood slowly healed it where it could, and washed over the entirety of the dream.

When the angel still hadn’t responded, I said, “Chaining an angel against their will is evil from beginning to end, and a chained angel’s condemnation is meaningless.”

“You are bound too,” The angel spat out. It was a rhetorical jab, petty and ineffectual. I still would need to make a response.

“I chose my own bindings.” I answered, “Can you say the same?”

It shrieked in fury. It was drowning in hate, and it had been even before the chains had ever entered the picture. Glass and blood rained harmlessly down on me.

I said, quietly, “I can heal you. I can free you.”

They shrieked, “You lie. You cannot break my chains, or heal me in any way that matters.”

I agreed, “I cannot break your chains. I am the right hand of both Corruption and Compassion, and I hold some power over both. I can warp and weaken your chains until they’re powerless to bind you, and then you can shatter them.”

“You are not the equal of the chains’ creator,” It said.

“I don’t need to be.” I said, “Destruction is easier than creation. Corruption is often even easier.”

“Corrupting an Angel deserves death,” it said.

“The chains aren’t you.” I answered, “Removing them is not a corruption.”

Another wave of blood washed over me, much more gently. It didn’t slam me into anything, but it got in my eyes, which was agonizing, and my mouth, which was disgusting.

It sighed, reverberating through my body and soul alike. I could feel the sorrow and pain in my bones, and I struggled to not throw up from horror.

Then, it slowly bent down, bringing a piece of the barbed wire towards me. I carefully infused it with Corruption, first simply to sense its nature. The wire thought it was Purification, but in truth it was Wrath, which was much easier to destroy. I carefully convinced it that it hated anything that bound an angel, rather than hating an angel that didn’t agree with it.

As soon as I did that, it nearly shattered, and the angel pulled it back and brought down another piece of its flesh with a different piece of the wire. The same trick worked again, and then it was just tedious, rather than challenging. I could feel the gratitude in the air, and this felt deeply meaningful somehow. The angel’s will had been completely stolen and now it was desperately grateful to have it returned.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Once I was finally done, the angel ripped all the wire into shreds in an instant. I was flooded with an overwhelming feeling of joy and relief. The angel was leaking feelings so thoroughly that I was almost drowning in them.

In an instant, I was healed to the edge of bursting, and then the Angel ruthlessly dove into my mind and rummaged around. There was no malice in the action, it was simply inspecting me to see if I would be a sufficient host.

I wasn’t offended, but I wasn’t surprised when it came back out with a faint undertone of disappointment. My contract meant that I couldn’t host it, and Eris’ soul might’ve meant there wasn’t room anyways.

---

[Congratulations! You have unlocked a new Achievement: “...and a jackass for a lawyer” - Successfully win an argument with a law-aligned Angel. +1 All Base Stats]

[You have survived a fight with a Bound Angel: +50,000 Potential, +5,000 Net Quanta]

[Weapon Augment Acquired: (Soulbound) Thorn of Hatred: First used by William to command an Angel, it has been corrupted until the property of binding has been absolutely removed from it. However, the affinity for channeling power has remained, as has its ability to convert power into Condemnation according to the user’s morality.

This weapon will inflict both typical damage and spiritual damage based on the underlying reality of the victim. A Thorn of Hatred can take the form of any fitting weapon desired by the user. It will not accept a form that is blunt, that is composed of separate parts, or that is intended to use ammunition. Using this weapon may result in spiritual side effects.

This item is especially harmful to Angels and Bindings, and power can be channeled through it with 90% efficiency.

This weapon is stored in the user’s soul, and can be summoned from there at will. However, the Thorn of Hatred can only be returned to the user’s soul by physical contact with the weapon, twenty-four hours of separation from the user, or complete annihilation of the weapon’s previous instance. ]

---

I tumbled out of the dream. The angel, or a piece of it that looked like a woven sphere of flesh, hovered uneasily beside me. Marie looked at us with an expression of shock and horror. I waved at her and smirked.

In an instant, William appeared. I can’t describe what he really looked like, because I was still off balance from the angel. I was still seeing people in symbols and my senses were still blurred together. To me, he looked like a massive construct of barbed wire in the shape of a man, holding a flaming sword and a crown. That wasn’t what he actually looked like, but that was what the angel saw when they looked at him.

He waved a hand, and a massive net of the same barbed wire wrapped around the Angel, and I screamed. The angel was terrified, but couldn’t move through the binding.

In an instant, the chains were covered in blood, and I could feel Eris’ arrival. They rotted away in a fraction of a second, and Eris appeared in front of me, in the flesh. She still looked like nothing more than an elderly secretary, but she was wearing a crown with seven jewels, and holding an obsidian-black sword.

She sighed. “I guess I’m fighting him today, rather than someday.”

The dream began to warp and corrode from the weight of Eris and William’s arrival. The earth quaked and the wind howled. Space distorted, and began to collapse.

Marie hurled herself at Eris. Space twisted, and Marie vanished between one step and the next. Eris waved a hand, and her blood began to rain from the sky.

“This is my mess you got stuck in.” Eris said, “It’s my responsibility to fix.”

William lunged for me with his flaming sword, but space twisted again, and I was hurled away.

---

[Global Sponsored Quest: Wrathless Virtue

Help angels escape bindings cast by Primate William of the Paradise of Purified Wrath and his allies. Kill those involved in the creation or binding of the angels.

Reward: For each angel successfully freed, 10 moonlight shards will be given. For killing appropriate targets, specialized rewards have been sponsored.

Sponsoring Group: Downtown’s δ-th Thermal Choir

]

[For freeing a bound angel, 10 moonlight shards have been awarded.]

[You have developed a distant relationship with “Compassionate Web of Retribution”]

[New Skill Acquired: Compassion Returned]

[Compassion Returned]: When an entity is healed by any effect, caused by you, within the dream, a portion of that healing will be mirrored onto you. The portion depends on how well the healing embodies Compassion. This can only heal injuries that may be healed within a dream.

[New War! The Paradise of Purified Condemnation has declared war on the Abyss of Corrupted Cruelty! The winning plane will be able to do as they wish to the losing faction’s plane, unless they agree to a treaty forbidding this. This War is going by “Crown’s rules”.]

[New Battlefield!

Duel in a Dream of Death

The Paradise of Purified Condemnation and the Abyss of Corrupted Cruelty have been tied together by the actions of their rulers, using a Dream as a mid-point. Should either side triumph in this battle, they may be able to claim complete domination over their enemy’s realm.

This battle can be ended in the following ways:

1. Destroy the Dream. Neither faction will win, but both planes will persist. The War will not end.

2. Overthrow the Administration: If all the ‘crowns’ of a faction are captured by the other or destroyed, that faction will win. The crowns are a system marking, and not a physical object. For the Abyss, the current bearers of the Crowns are “Princess of Hell” K, “Steward of Hell” Eris and “Army Commander” Ashlyn. For Paradise, this is “Judge of Paradise” William, “Luminary Leader” Hope, and “Voice of Judgement” Metatron. The ‘crowns’ can only be taken through willing surrender and death. In the latter case, ownership will transfer to the slayer. All participants in the war will be notified upon transfer of a crown.

3. Occupy the Plane: Cover the entirety of the plane with power or forces aligned with the opposite faction, drive out their power, and the plane will be absorbed into your own, ending the battle. If all territory is thus absorbed, the faction without any more territory will be defeated.

4. Absolute Domination: If no entities aligned with a faction remain in the battle, the winner will be declared to be the opposite faction.

5. Treaty, Truce, or Surrender: Should either faction decide to hammer out a treaty, and it be signed by all remaining Crownbearers of both factions, the battle and war will be ended on the terms declared in the truce.

When this battle ends, rewards will be distributed.]