Chapter 19 – Unlikely Alliances

With his wide smile hidden by his helmet, Bel charged the Devourer. He felt a surge of adrenaline at the thought of the fight to come. His feet left small indentations in the dirt as he picked up speed, his increased strength propelling him forward almost as fast as a horse.

The Devourer saw him coming, how could it not with all those eyes, and so it sent a tentacle towards him. The pointed edge of the tentacle went straight for Bel’s throat but he blocked it casually, deflecting the blow instead of stopping outright. The thing was so strong it almost knocked him off course, Bel just managed to correct himself as his blade sunk into the side of the creature. Black tar-like blood oozed from it and Bel twisted the blade to widen the wound.

Bel wasn’t even sure the thing felt his attack, it didn’t show pain in any way and the mouths of the creature just kept chewing the air, an uneerie sound coming from the. Like that of multiple screaming people. It could just have been the inquisitors around him though. The warriors in white stabbed, slashed, or threw white light at the creature, using their halberds and skills.

The light burned several parts of the creature but it immediately healed its skin or regrew the lost appendages that were chopped off. The creature was assailed from all directions and took blow upon blow, Bel thought they had a strong chance of defeating the creature if they kept this up. It must have a limit to its regeneration or a weak point that they would find in time.

The Devourer didn’t take the beating lying down though, it gave just as much as it took. Sending white-clad warriors everywhere with its powerful blows. Several inquisitors were impaled and thrown away, most got back up after a few seconds, a white light surrounding their wounds. They healed themselves or were supported by their fellows and their magical skills. A few unlucky individuals didn’t rise again. Bel saw a woman get impaled by a tentacle and dragged back towards its body, screaming bloody murder. Her friends tried to sever the appendage but were unsuccessful before she was pulled close enough to one of its mouths and it then lived up to its name. The woman was eaten alive, blood and body parts flying everywhere.

Bel gagged and realized that the more the thing ate the greater its agitation and strength grew. He focused on the wound before him as he blocked another attack with his shield. Focusing within, he cast Life Transference almost immediately, his new Mana Mastery allowing the skill to form much faster.

Instead of the ecstasy of life entering him a vile darkness similar to the blood of the creature entered his veins. Pain shot through his body, locking it in place and a torrent of black sludge spewed from his mouth. The creature undulated in pain though, and all the tentacles on that side of its body slammed into him. He was flung away faster than his charge and he would have kept going if not for a set of strong arms catching him. The grunt accompanying the catching told him that it hadn’t been a pleasant maneuver for the catcher.

“You mad laddie?” A gruff voice complained in Bel’s ear.

“That must have been the stupidest thing I have ever seen, also one of the bravest. You take it easy now and let ol’ Korgan handle it from here.” The short dwarf dumped him on the ground and drew his two axes. A skill activated surrounding the man in a red glow. He raised his axes and shouted a deep battle cry before charging the Devourer. His companions followed him. The red-haired woman moved with grace as she fired arrow after arrow toward the black blob. A huge wolf ran with her, the size of the wolf made Bel blink for a moment it was as large as a car.

The other two people in the group ran after them. The elven woman in full plate glanced at Bel with a frown, the symbol of Dawn on her chest plate. Bel was in too much pain to worry about her distaste for him. The fourth person was different though. Bel could still clearly remember his first dream after arriving in this world. The betrayal on the man's face was still a fresh wound within Bel, even though he didn’t know the man.

Devon looked at Bel for a moment, remembering a hazy and strange dream for a moment. He couldn’t spare the necromancer any more thought. They needed to stop this creature now or everyone here was dead, and probably the closest town and villages as well. He drew his longsword and charged with his party; the man covered in black goop behind him was forgotten for now.

Bel tried to stand up but his legs were shaking. He steadied himself as much as he could and focused on being a leader instead. He ordered his minions forward, Ignatius and Solomon he called to his side and they all obeyed quickly.

The skeleton warriors moved forward in unison, supported by the skeleton summoners and the remaining werewolf. The two wraiths couldn’t directly affect the creature and were in turn not affected by its attacks, the creature seemed too dumb to realize that. Bel took advantage of this and had the wraiths harass the Devourer from above, forcing some of its tentacles to swat at them instead of the people on the ground.

The fight continued for several more minutes without either side getting an advantage. Bel felt that if there hadn’t been so many Inquisitors present then the fight would have been over long ago. The casualties were starting to mount though as more and more of the white-clad warriors had to disengage due to wounds, lack of mana, or death-like symptoms, like dying. Bel’s legs had stabilized and he picked up the Necro-Blade again. Luckily, he had managed to hold on to both the sword and shield.

He had watched the fight this entire time, directing his minions and keeping an eye on the enemy. The adventuring party was fighting like a well-oiled machine. They must have been working together for a long time. The armored man was tanking the creature, taking hits on his shield and attacking any tentacle that came close. The dwarf was chopping away at the creature's body and the bow-wielding woman was directing her wolf and arrows toward its eyes.

The elf was holding back, occasionally sending a heal toward any wounded nearby. She seemed to have several skills that worked over long distances, the other inquisitors seemed to require physical touch to heal.

Bel noticed something strange about the woman, she was moving her left hand in an intricate pattern, probably about to cast another skill. One she had been working on for a long while, but she was still able to cast other skills. She must have some sort of dual-casting ability and Bel was immediately jealous. That was exactly what he needed. He wished he could see her mana channels so he could copy what she was doing.

The elven woman finished her skill and a bright light enveloped the creature burning it all over. The Devourer reacted more violently than ever before. It slammed the closest warriors away like they were annoying flies, dropping anyone it was trying to eat, and then it tried rolling out of the light. The adventurers tried to contain it but it simply rolled over anyone in its way, leaving dead or dazed people behind.

“This isn’t working. Why can’t we kill it?” Bel felt useless, his strength had returned, and was about to charge back into the fray. An inquisitor was hit hard and flew towards Bel. Without thinking, Bel jumped forward and caught the man, he sat him down gently. Had Bel been a regular human then he would have died from the impact, but somehow, he was able to use his strength to catch the man even when he was flying faster than an arrow, without either of them exploding from the impact. Bel didn’t stop to think about how the physics of that worked.

“What the fuck is that thing?” He asked the man on the ground, although the man was a stretch. The man couldn’t have been older than seventeen years old, a boy more than a man. A freckled face underneath his opened-faced helmet. Dark brown hair peaked out beneath the helm and the boy was dangerously thin.

“It’s a damn Devourer!” He answered angrily, looking toward the battle. His youthful voice was angry.

“What’s that?” Bel asked curiously.

“Who taught you Demonology? It’s one of the vilest creatures ever created by Morkin. A form of Anti-life creature. Made to eat and devour like him, an insatiable hunger driving them both. It won't stop eating and killing until it's either killed or there is nothing left for miles upon miles for it to eat. Why did the Apostle have that thing in stasis?” The boy's voice started confident but at the end, it dropped to a pleading question.

He turned toward Bel looking for an answer, and it was then he noticed who he was talking to. The boy froze and his eyes grew wide.

“Relax kid, I won’t eat you. At least not when we have a common enemy.” He smiled to show that he was joking but the boy’s eyes widened even more in fear.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke. How do we kill it? It just keeps regenerating and healing any damage it takes?” Bel tried to steer the conversation back to the enemy at hand. He hoped this kid didn’t start anything; he didn’t want to put the boy down in front of his friends.

“It has a limit just like any monster, it’s just that since it was made to kill tin and bronze tiers its limit is incredibly high.” The boy answered after a few moments, relaxing as Bel didn’t do anything threatening.

“So it’s a battle of attrition then?” Bel waited for the boy to nod before he turned toward the battle again. Raising his hands, he prepared to go all out. Bel looked over his shoulder at the young staring inquisitor.

“What’s your name kid?”

“What?”

“Your name, what is it? My name is Belmont.” Bel smiled.

“Francis. My name’s Francis.” Francis stammered, unsure of what was going on.

“Well, Francis. If there is one thing I'm good at, it's killing. Watch carefully.” Bel raised his arms again, watching the fight that wasn’t going very well for the humans. His minions had died, all except the two wraiths. Solomon was covering Bel's front and Ignatius was observing the battle from a safe distance in the air.

Bel was at 6/70 in his summoning pool so he focused inwards, charging his summoning skill to its maximum. He didn’t know why but when the skill was fully charged he stomped his right foot down into the packed earth and a wave of mana was released. He had 64 unused points and so he summoned 32 regular skeletons, all with swords in their hands. The portals opened across the battlefield, the army of the dead stepping forward. A few people shouted in surprise but were too occupied by the battle to do anything rash.

Bel then used what little mana he had left and imbued his minions. The skeletons took on the usual green glow and their eyes ignited in green flame. A wind swept through the area causing the sound of their rattling bones to echo between the stone surrounding them.

He waved and his army charged the Devourer. It sensed that something had changed and its eyes turned toward Bel and the approaching undead. Individually the skeletons were weak, but this was a horde of undead bearing down on it. All of them were infused by a skill, bronze tiered, and had no sense of preservation. Bel almost thought he saw a flicker of fear in the enemy's eyes. He must have imagined it for the creature immediately started to make his way toward Bel. It knew what threatened it.

Bel welcomed the creature, drawing his blade and raising his shield he smiled behind his helm again.

“Bring it, you booger.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

The horde and Devourer clashed. Immediately several skeletons were pummeled out of the way, the thing made it almost halfway through the skeleton army before it realized its mistake. The skeletons he ran over got back up, with a few cracked bones but otherwise fine, then they charged him from all directions like ants.

The creatures' tentacles took down skeleton after skeleton but they kept coming, cutting and slashing wherever they could, the creature started to diminish bit by bit. It was hard to see at first but soon it was noticeable even by the naked eye. The remaining inquisitors started bombarding the devourer with their holy skills and the adventuring party joined the fray as well.

For each skeleton killed Bel felt like his brain was on fire. The backlash of losing a minion and the imbue spell hitting him. He didn’t care, pain was familiar. Instead of feeling the pain or dwelling on it, he flexed his legs and with a mighty jump, launched himself into the air. Descending like a meteor, he landed atop the Devourer, cutting several tentacles in one sweep, causing them to fall, flailing as they fell to the ground.

The battle started to shift then as the creature grew weaker and weaker from the combined assault of Bel and the Inquisition troops. It screamed then, a shrill shriek so high several people clutched their ears. It was a scream of fear. This ancient abomination felt death's touch creeping closer and it didn’t know what to do. Never had it failed to consume, to feast, to absorb all those that came before it. It started to whimper, a pitiful sound that affected no one. Everyone here except Bel knew what a Devourer was capable of. It needed to die and die it would.

“For the Light!”

“For the Morning Goddess!”

Several cries rang out and the Devourer died in agony. The thing burning up and shrinking with every attack. Bel noticed a small black orb in the center of the Devourer, noticeable now that its size was that of a horse instead of a tank. He lunged with his blade straight out and skewered the orb. The devourer stilled immediately, a small vibration going through it before its body collapsed into a black sludge, spewing everywhere.

You have slain a Devourer (Elite).

You have leveled up x5.

Death Strike has leveled up x6.

Summoned Lesser Undead has leveled up x2.

Summoned Lesser Undead has evolved into Summon Undead.

Imbue Undead has leveled up x4.

A wave of energy coursed through Bel almost lifting him off his feet. He could hear exclamations around him as everyone present leveled up in some form or another. Bel opened his Status with a smile. He immediately distributed his new free points. He put two points into constitution, bringing it to 60, nine points into dexterity bringing it to 50, and the last four points into intelligence. Another crashing wave of energy dulled the ache in his body and the pain in his mind for a moment.

“That was excellent work, Master.” Ignatius said as he lowered himself to Bel's height.

“Wish I got to smash something though.” Solomon said while he sulked.

“That was one of the hardest fights we’ve ever been in Ignatius. If we’ve fought the thing alone, then I would be dead now.” Bel spoke in a low voice to not disturb the people around him. He saw several smiles as people looked at something only they could see, but not everyone was smiling. A few people lay on the ground, teeth clenched in pain as they were healed by their friends or waiting for healing. The only ones not moving were the dead, and there were more of them than the living.

Two-thirds of the inquisition force was dead, and the corpses spread around the area like the toys of a toddler spread across a room. It saddened Bel looking at the destruction and death around him. Now that the fight was over, he once again came to his senses. That bloodlust he felt went away like it wasn’t even there, causing Bel to feel immense guilt. If he had killed that damn man instead of just taking an arm, then this would have never happened.

Bel felt a strange emotion then, one he welcomed, hate. He hated Merikh for what he did here, and he swore to himself he would make him pay. If he lived through this next part that is.

Bel was wrung through, his head pounding and his reserves of mana low. His battle meditation still wouldn’t work like before, only a small trickle of mana entered his veins with each rotation.

Making his way over to Francis he noticed the boy had taken a wound to his abdomen, it looked painful but not severe. It was probably what made him a low priority and he lay on the ground, his face pale from pain. As Bel approached, his eyes widened in fear for a moment before they relaxed.

“How are you feeling Francis?” Bel asked gently as he sat down next to the boy. He still thought of the young man as a boy. He looked so innocent, not like the warrior he was.

“I’m fine Sir. The wound is not fatal and the pain is going away. I would heal it myself if my mana wasn’t depleted. I gave my potion to Alexandra; she’s a much better healer and she needs it more than me.” Francis’ voice was steady but there was a tone of respect there as well.

“Mana potions you say?” Bel hadn’t had the time or opportunity to ask Ignatius about it but he wasn’t surprised that they also existed.

“I’m almost empty myself, but I have regained enough for this at least.” Bel said before reaching for Francis. He didn’t ask permission which was probably a taboo, but he didn’t want the boy to suffer needlessly, not when he could help.

Transferring a small amount of Life from himself into Francis caused the boy to gasp in shock and Bel to sag from the effort. The skill only took a second to work. Francis got to his feet watching Bel with a mixture of awe, anger, and gratitude.

“You’ve marked me now, just like the others. I’ll never be accepted back by the inquisition.” Francis didn’t sound angry, he just sounded like he had given up. Bel felt a wave of remorse. He forgot about that after everything that went down. He had healing potions in his satchel, why didn't he give one of those to Francis? Bel felt conflicted, he wasn't sure why he did what he did.

“I’m sorry Francis, I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to help.” Bel removed his helm, looking at Francis with moisture in his eyes.

Francis stared at Bel; his expression unreadable.

“I believe you. I don’t know why but I do.” As they spoke, the others had taken care of their wounded and gathered again. Lieutenant Ventrell had survived and was organizing the survivors. They were making their way toward Bel and Francis. Bel could see fear and anger in their eyes. But he wasn’t sure it was all directed toward him. Merikh had screwed up when he tried to kill any witnesses to his shame. Bel knew there could be another fight soon if he didn’t choose his words carefully.

Ventrell opened his mouth to speak, anger radiating from him like heat.

“Enough Christian. Stand down.” Devon approached with his group at his back. They looked as tired and disheveled as everyone else. Devon had been hit in the face by something and had a large gash going from his right eyebrow to his left cheek. The wound would scare and Bel felt a moment of joy at the thought. Devon didn’t have a scar in the dream. The elf moved up and touched Devon's face then and the wound healed without scaring him. Bel glared at the elf; she ruined it!

Liara noticed the heretics' stare, he looked angry. What was the matter with him? she thought. Ignoring the man's stare, she healed the other's superficial wounds. Everyone was back on their feet and her mana was almost full again due to the potion she had received.

“What do you want Devon? Don’t you see now the suffering and death caused by this man?” Ventrell glared at the blonde paladin. Devon sighed, a weight settling on his shoulders.

“You know just as damn well that it was Merikh who caused this. He tried to kill us all for Dawn’s sake!” Devon shouted the last part in anger.

Dead silence followed his proclamation. Emotions flickered across every person present except Bels. He had stopped staring at the elf and was now watching the verbal match before him, his expression blank. Solomon stood at his back and Ignatius hovered next to them.

“That can’t be. He’s a hand of the Watching One. Sworn servant of the Goddess and the Inquisition. This thing here must have affected him somehow. Corrupted him like he has poor Francis over there.” Christian waved toward Francis standing close to Bel. The boy didn’t flinch or cover instead he stared at his leader with a defiant expression. Then he spoke.

“He saved me. I would have been dead if it weren’t for Belmont.” His voice was low but carried to everyone present. A murmur went through the crowd as another person made their way through, it was Sarah, the woman Bel saved.

“He saved me too. I denied it at first but I would have been dead if not for the Necromancer.” She was spitting the words out as if they gave her a bad taste.

Another movement and the man Bel saved, John, stepped forward. The man had tried to kill Bel repeatedly so he prepared for the worst. But Johns' face had lost its zealosy and his face was sunken and ashen.

“The hand betrayed us. I was willing to die for the church, but not by being devoured. Not that.” He spoke like a broken man, emotions raw.

“You know what the Apostles are capable of Christian. They will do whatever it takes to kill or purge what they deem unclean or heretical. No matter the cost.” As he spoke the last part, Devon's eyes moved from face to face. A few people nodded but most looked away in anger or shame.

“He tried to kill me... us Devon. He had a freaking Devourer on his chain and he tried to feed us to it!” Ventrell's voice rose to a falsetto. His eyes were wide.

“He did. And you know what he will do now. He will return to the church and report us all dead or corrupted. We will all be branded as heretics and if the inquisition or the other Orders find us, we’re dead. Unless we can get back to the Capital and speak with the Highest One.” Devon spoke with conviction, hiding his fear and uncertainty.

The others looked down; their eyes averted. Tensions were high.

Bel coughed, causing everyone to look at him. He rose to his full height then, realizing he towered over most of the people present.

“I know that none of you trust what I have to say. But I would like to take you up on your offer Chadwick.” The man flinched for some reason but Bel continued.

“I don’t know your customs nor the law of the land. I will abide by any stipulations you have and I will only fight to protect myself or my friends.” He waved toward Solomon and Ignatius.

“I won't use my skills unless given permission or under the threat of death. I swear to you.” There was a short silence before Devon stepped forward.

“I accept your oath as it is and promise to help you learn and perhaps one day, you’ll walk on the path of light.” Nobody said anything for a moment. Then several voices spoke out at once.

“Are you crazy, he needs to die!?”

“We should leave the Empire, there’s nothing here for us anymore!”

“This must be a mistake. We need to see the Bishop at Linchester.”

“I want to join as well.” The last voice cut through the arguing voices, silencing them again. Everyone looked over at Francis. The boy stood tall but as the many eyes looked at him his confidence withered some.

“The inquisition has betrayed us. I’m done with this. I only joined because my father was too poor to take care of me. At least now I have options. I will go with you Bel if you’ll have me. I’ll abide by the same rules as long as I can level up. The cap increase from this monster will help us all, don’t you realize that? We can all reach bronze if we work hard.” Francis’ voice grew stronger the longer he spoke.

He finished his speech by grasping an emblem on his shoulder, tearing it free, and throwing it on the ground. Devon looked at the boy with sadness in his eyes, he understood him, he understood him too well.

After a few moments, Sarah and John tore away their emblems as well. A total of five people chose to follow Bel under Devon's tutelage. Three others swore that they would all burn in the Goddess's fire and they vowed to return to the church. The remaining seven chose to follow Ventrell. He planned to go south and leave the Heman Empire behind. They chose to run away from their problems instead of facing them, Devon thought. Although everyone deserved to make their own decision, so he allowed everyone who wanted, to leave.

An hour later, Devon and his party sat with Bel, Francis, Sarah, and John sat around a campfire. Alexandra the healer, whose desertion from the inquisition came as a shock to everyone, and a large man called Bull were also there.

Bel still didn’t know why these people had chosen to do what they did, but he would defend their choices to the ends of the world if he had to. Chadwick seemed to have a plan that may save them, it was either that or being hunted for the rest of their life.

“You think you can convince this Highest One to spare us?” Bel asked Devon as he chewed on a roasted chicken leg, it tasted amazing.

“I do. Mostly because the Highest One raised me and took me in when I left my family. He knows me and he is equal to the Watching One. They and the Wisest One are leaders of the church of Dawn within the Heman Empire. Their word carries almost as much weight as the emperors.” Devon was sipping something called Cavina. Bel had tried it and was surprised as it tasted almost exactly like coffee, but somewhat sweeter instead of bitter. He didn’t like it; he missed a dark cup of joe.

“That sounds good. Not that I understood much of what you just said. The thought of not being hunted down as a dog makes me like this plan a lot more.” Bel yawned, the last couple of days had been exhausting.

“You should get some rest. Your education and training will start tomorrow. Do you need any help getting out of that armor?” Devon asked Bel looking over the edge of his cup.

“No, it’s fine. It's magical and quite easy to get in and out off. Not that I have removed it in a while.” Bel was unsure how long he had been in the armor, it felt like years. He started to strip down, feeling increasingly vulnerable the more pieces he removed. It wasn’t long before he stood in his Garments only. It felt strange not feeling the weight of his armor on his body. He had never felt more naked.

A gust of wind blew through the area and Bel realized that although his garments were self-cleaning and repairing, it didn’t remove the odor of his body. The others flinched as the wind hit them and Bel went red from embarrassment.

“You’ll be sleeping downwind tonight, laddie. Either that or we bury you under a pile of trash and excrement. At least then it won't smell so bad.” Korgan the Dwarf loudly declared. Bel took a sleeping bag the elf offered him, her hands avoiding touching his. He mumbled a thank you even if she seemed even more repulsed by him now and moved downwind, putting the bedroll down.

Bel lay there looking up at a strange night sky, it hit him then. He was free of the dungeon and for the moment, he was safe. Tears streamed down his sleeping face, tears only an observant elf could see in the dark. The others soon went to bed and sleep took the camp, all but the elf who kept staring at the tears of a sleeping man.