It was a horrible feeling to have. This woman, who he did not know, but could not disbelieve, saying something against the man he trusted most, who had stood by his side for literally decades, always there with a comforting word or advice, drinks in times of sadness, congratulations on success...
Advice on how to proceed in uncertain times...
The Imprusar Priest had an odd look on his face for just a moment, hard to read. “Oh? You have more things to say, child?” he sniffed slightly, head coming up, sure of himself.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Traveler replied, her voice so firm and regal, like an Empress talking to a vagrant priest, and suddenly his old friend didn’t seem so confident of himself and his purpose, like shadows were being cast across him.
His friend, who had often advised him on how to proceed in relations with the Aborigines, and who had argued for letting the Cultivators in, seeing how they could strengthen the last of their people...
“You see, Imprus’ core tenets do not include racism or outright elitism, especially for the Powered. Those are optional tenets included when one has to make a judgement based on potential, at which point the Powered are favored as having more. Racism, even specism, is self-defeating and denies Him servants, for Imprus is the Imperial God, of all races and beings. He will rule EVERYTHING... not just mere humans. Discriminating against those who would serve Him is not part of His teachings.
“However, such attitudes are part of Lawful doctrine, and can be of use during the period of building His Church. The doctrine they are a core part of, however, is that of Hell.”
Inkai slowly lowered the Staff in his hand, plainly readying his power for a conflict. “What are you insinuating? Are you doubting my faith in Imprus and His destiny?” he sneered.
“I have a counter question,” she replied, smiling a cold, deadly hint of a smile. “Do you know the efficacy of a True Seeing spell cast at VII?”
He blinked, and then his face began to twist.
The burning Sword came right through his chest, and he shrieked in agony, the multi-hued flames about it billowing up with the pure Wrath of Heaven Kentai had not seen very often, but would never forget... and there was something visible in the flames.
It billowed over the face and body of his old friend, an illusion, a glimpse of a spirit or image, just a trick of the eye, caressed by the power of Heaven... and then a crimson-black flame within the Wrath surged forth, filled in that image, and the spike-boned, skeletal spirit was clearly and wholly visible, screaming in anger and defiance.
A grim hand came down on that image, wrapped in the Wrath of Heaven and Scorn of Hell, gripped as the spirit writhed, and tore it away.
Inkai dropped, a hole in his robes, but his flesh unmarked, save for brimstone flames leaking out of all his orifices as the devil that had been Riding him materialized.
The Confessor Devil went sprawling ignominiously on the ground, the burning wound from Idiot blazing in its chest, rather spoiling any attempt at looking powerful and aloof as it slowly rose to its feet, dark and burning power gathering to it.
“Retreat!” Kentai ordered his men, who leapt away just before the first blasts of hellfire began to gather.
“Please.”
The one word was so dismissive. A flash of spiraling sparkles hit the hellfire and blew it apart. Parti-colored hummingbirds chased one another and exploded. Crystal rain fell from the earth into the sky. Graffiti and math formulas chased one another over diabolic skin. Luminiscent postules erupted into laughing tears of metallic chimes and his mother’s wasabi sauce...
The wild magic ripped at the devil, who lost its powerful demeanor again as it was blasted by the random energies of its magic being ignited by a spell Kentai had never seen before.
Then the Sword wrapped in so many kinds of fires came erupting out of its throat, pulsing once, as if waiting for something, and wrapped in dozens of coruscant sparkles...
The world went white.
---------
“Lord Kentai.”
The man before me looked to have aged ten years in ten minutes, and the blast of vivus from the Confessor Devil being extinguished didn’t help with the new white at his temples.
“Lady Traveler.” His voice had the hint of both great respect and great loathing for what had gone on here. I was the very embodiment of a horribly mixed blessing.
“Every single being who has successfully practiced Cultivation and established a Qi Dantian must have that Dantian destroyed, or they will become a Cultivator, sooner or later, even if not a very gifted one. Their souls will be eaten, their bodies taken, and they will seek to murder the Powered and consume them to become stronger, as it is the fastest, easiest way to defy the judgement of Creation for what they are.”
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He closed his eyes and sighed. “I received word that the other dojos, and several homes, had been attacked.”
“I killed every Cultivator Three and above I ran across, and pierced the Ones and Twos. There are still scores of them, if not hundreds, scattered through your city. You must either stop this now, or it will cost you, and all humanity, greatly in the future.”
“I will give the orders.” He looked at the corpse of his daughter, now blazing very, very brightly with vivic flames. “If you can help us identify them, and destroy their Dantians, I would appreciate the gesture.”
“Very well.” Given how many I’d already killed, it was the least I could do.
“You said you came to give us a great Boon.” His eyes turned back to me. “May I ask what it was?”
“A way for the Powered to reach past Six, to even Nine or Ten, and for the non-Powered to do so, as well.”
“All of them?” he had to ask.
“No, it isn’t free. They must still have talent, they must still work... but there is nothing about meridians or dantians or suitability. Any base human alive who is not Powered can become Forsaken, and learn to stand on their own.”
He turned and looked at his elite guards, all men he’d known and trusted for years. “Our focus on our bloodlines, our heritage...”
“The Heavens do not care about your bloodline in the slightest, they look only at your soul. The Land does not care for your skin color or eyes or hair, it only sees those born of its soil, and those who are not. Racism, specism, discrimination... those are human inventions made to justify their actions, and can be transcended.”
His dark eyes flashed. “What of the Chinese?” he asked harshly, glancing at the ruins of that pagoda.
“They have probably already fallen, suckered in just as you were, and now slaves to those they thought were saving them. Do not blame Cultivators on them; Cultivators consider all humans prey and rivals if they are Powered, or breeding hosts to make more of their kind. They don’t care about your skin color or bloodline, either, only if you have the right meridians.”
His face fell, unable to find someone else to blame. His eyes turned to his long-time friend, still convulsing on the ground, dark ooze coming from his orifices now. “And my friend? This servant of Hell?”
“I don’t know his story, but Hell’s methods are Temptation, Reward, and Damnation. He probably made a bargain for power, and in doing so became a tool and a pawn. Those effects show he has been Possessed for years, and likely a significant part of his mind was actually made up of the Confessor Devil. It only needed to cleave to the Lawful side of behavior while it manipulated him, slowly turning methods to darker, more direct and pragmatic means, increasing the harvest of souls for Hell as your methods grew worse and worse.
“You should be somewhat proud you’ve still got a touch of silver. Your family must have instilled a strong moral code in you. I suggest you start actually paying attention to it.”
His head slumped forwards. “I have failed my family, and my people,” he admitted softly.
“The first step of repentance is admitting that there is something you have to repent. The second step is actually doing something about it.”
He inhaled deeply and let it go, long and slow, before straightening up. The sadness in his eyes didn’t stop the things he still had to do.
“I want every Cultivator in this city either dead or Pierced before noon!” he ordered loudly, voice carrying out to those outside. “Get moving! Lady Traveler will tell you where to go!”
I waved my hand, and drew an Illusion up high in the sky, laying out the city... and many, many dots here and there that Commune with Nature working through Master Fred’s Citypact could narrow down with great accuracy as the Spirit of Darwin realized what a threat they were.
“And send word to the Aborigines that we have found some of their children, and what became of them!... and that I would like to sit down with them to discuss other matters...”
---------
Was it a direct tie between Hell and Cultivators? No more than I remembered from Terra-Luna. Nor did it explain where the Buddhist Mantra came from, unless it was an automatic mirrored reaction to the Daoist Creed occurring. The Mantra had been ascertained for what it was and wiped away mercilessly on Terra-Luna as a brainwashing neo-religion that destroyed Free Will. Where the souls caught in the Mantra ended up was unknown, but making sure it did not spread had been another merciless action that had to be done.
There had still been fanatical devotees of the old religions back there, unwilling to give up their beliefs, impressing them on their children, willing to endure all sorts of hardships in the belief they would be rewarded for their faith, and their gods would come to wipe the world clean of heretics and reward their faithful.
It had not happened, and would not happen, but that did not stop them from believing. While they were privately considered fools by many, people were allowed to believe what they wanted to believe, right up until it interfered with what other people wanted to believe.
That was what the Buddhist Mantra did: enslaving souls, destroying Free Will, giving one no choice but to believe them and only them, and all else were heretics and blasphemers, fit only for conversion or death.
But the similarities to the total pragmatism of Hell were there. Many Cultivators were disciplined enough that when they died, they did indeed go to Hell, not the Glooms or Abyss. That effectively delivered unto Hell souls it would not have received otherwise, hapless people of all Alignments who thought they’d found a road to power, and only delivered themselves into a dragon’s jaws to be a meal.
‘Defying the Heavens’ amounted to defying the gods, and Hell was perfectly happy for the gods to be disrespected, as it was the Good gods who defended the weak, who made the best victims for Cultivators. That forced the gods to divide their attention. Hell didn’t care; it got its souls in the end, and the likelihood of a Cultivator actually reaching Eternal status was even lower than most Powered, as literally the rest of Creation was tilted against them. In effect, Cultivators actually made Eternals rarer, since they killed more Powered, thinning out that threat, and in doing so made it more unlikely that they themselves would reach that status as they were slaughtered in turn.
After all, the best way for Cultivators to advance was to murder Powered of equal or higher Level, and render them down into pills...
That trick with Possessing the Priest of a different Faith would not work easily in a normal world, where the gods could definitely sense something messing with their Faithful and Doctrine like that. Even so, the devil doing the task had kept strictly to matters of Law, merely steering things in a desired direction.
If people died Crimson, it didn’t matter who they espoused; they were going to Hell if there was no god around to grab them. Even if they were caught in the Shroud... if they ever escaped, they’d just be mass shuffled into Hell, and it would get its due.
Hell could be very patient when claiming its due.
Just confirming those two vampires had been Lawbound had been enough to confirm there was a Pact Grantor around... and Axiomites weren’t the only ones who could grant Law Pacts. Archons and Devils could also do so, although the prior would rarely, and the latter would only do it if they stood a good chance at still getting your soul... or they had something to hide...