My dad didn’t seem even remotely worried about the fight. Tartarus struck out brutally with a palm, aiming for his head, but the two mercury demons (I could see now that they had horns and tails, though they looked pretty generic otherwise) appeared in front of him. The palm smashed into the head of one, splattering mercury everywhere, while the second had ducked down and pointed his horns at the skull masked man’s stomach.
The momentum of the attack gored him, and he snarled, leaping back to get distance. The mercury head reformed, though crackling green scattered through the body. My dad frowned in irritation, then tapped his cane three more times.
Another three shapes rose from the ground, also made of mercury. Souls. He was using actual souls directly in combat.
“You’re certainly a more irritating opponent than expected.” He said blandly. “But I suppose you wouldn’t have had such an easy time with Zeke if you weren’t. Even freshly Ascended he isn’t the type to be dealt with simply.”
Tartarus, who up until this point had been silent, finally spoke. “Who” rumbled a deep and menacing voice from the depths of the mask. “Are you?”
“Depends who you ask.” He said with a shrug. “A disappointment as a father. A failure as a son. An absent husband, an irritating best friend. A monster. A nightmare. I have many faces, though perhaps not quite as many as some.” He shot a look at where mom was trying to patch up Zeke. “I think today I am just an obstacle. Or simply your death.”
Tartarus snorted. “You think a few disembodied souls will be enough to kill me? I follow the Path of a god.”
“Oh.” My dad said conversationally. “Then you’re an idiot.”
We all looked at him blankly. Tartarus growled dangerously. “What did you say? You would cast aspersions on the power of my lady?’
“Not at all.” His eyes flicked past me to my sister. “Chelsea.” He said benevolently. “Pay attention to what I’m about to say, because it will be important for you to know. It is functionally impossible for two people on the same Path to become gods.”
I gritted my teeth. I knew as a WCP representative he wasn’t allowed to offer me advice, not to mention that tidbit had been more important to her as someone who was using grandpa’s ability. But still, being ignored like that made me want to scream. Chelsea looked confused. “Why?” She asked quietly, clearly as torn over how to address dad as I was.
Dad waved a hand at Tartarus without looking, and the five souls surrounded him, standing at five points around him. “Imperial Demon Funeral.” Said my father absently, and all five souls caught fire. Red black flames consumed them, driving Tartarus screaming to his knees, and my father continued to ignore him as he was crushed to the ground.
“Being a god means embodying the entirety of your Path.” He told her as if nothing important was going on. "Domain seeding someone on a similar Path isn’t inherently bad, Paths can change, but trying to directly follow the Path of a divine being is a dead end. Hell, even following it to S-rank is nearly impossible, despite how powerful the wish ability is and how easy it makes things. Why do you think I threw away my complete wish ability?”
I’d wondered about that. The wish ability let us essentially make stats out of nothing. We all grew so absurdly fast, maybe not all as quick as me given my head start, but still, it would be maybe five years tops before I hit the peak of S-rank at this rate. Path stuff would be a problem, but if the Wishmaster had already created a proper path he should have been able to help.
Granted, mom’s reveal about why there were so few gods meant I got why no one else reached that step. But dad was right, there should have been more S-rankers than just the thirteen we had.
I thought about the reason, then it clicked. “It’s the renown. Anyone trying to follow the same Path to the finish line has to compete against someone with an absurd amount of renown.”
I wanted to know more, but sadly he didn’t have a chance to reply, Tartarus gave a wordless scream and stood, his Domain exploding out of him and banishing the red black flame and the souls it was consuming.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“What an absurd person.” Said dad distastefully. “Those souls don’t grow on trees, you know. I’ll have to take yours as payment.”
Slamming his cane down again, another thirteen mercury figures rose from the ground, coalescing into those some featureless demonic puppets. “Watch closely children.” He said coldly. “This is my answer to a power that surpasses even the Wishmaster.”
The mirror skull on his cane started to glow, and as I watched, the souls changed. They shifted into more substantial and unique shapes, all becoming actual people. With a snarl, they leapt forward, hands blazing with power, weapons drawn, and more than a dozen different fully formed A-rankers began to rain down attacks on Tartarus.
I doubted it would have been so effective if thirteen normal A-rank cultivators had attacked him, but then, this wasn’t normal. They acted like one body, moving perfectly in sync, as if they all had the same kind of bond as Callie and I, thirteen hands moving under the will of one mind.
I was blown away. How had he done this? How was he using so much power without damaging himself? And then it clicked. The skull. That wasn’t just a mirrored cane, it was a mirror SOUL. It was just like the mercury souls, except he’d condensed it into some kind of control device. He was casually using the souls of other people as weapons without straining himself at all.
This was what he’d meant, I realized. His new ability, the power of the wish devil. To trade for the souls of others and keep them at his beck and call.
“My soul?” Laughed Tartarus darkly. “How exactly do you plan to do that?”
My dad reached into his black velvet waistcoat and pulled out a golden scroll. Unfolding it he casually reached down, dipped two fingers in the blood from Tartarus’s goring by the devil horns, and leisurely scrawled his name at the bottom of a crowded document.
The name flashed with a terrible red light, and then shifted from a messy blood scrawl to flowing penmanship. “A contract is a funny thing.” My father said calmly. “It is a binding document that enforces a deal between two people. But not all contracts are willingly entered. This particular ability is called Punitive Contract.”
Tartarus snarled and tried to rush him, but the souls had him locked down. Even trying to push them back with his Domain wasn’t working, because there was so many that as soon as he stopped to try to push them, at least six of them hit him simultaneously from behind.
“Punitive contract is a very special skill.” My father continued. “It only works if the person in question is aware of its use, and of the parameters for its execution. In this case, you activated the requirements by almost killing my best friend, and then subsequently being attacked by me and shedding blood.”
With a wild howl, Tartarus managed to push through the crowd of souls, attacking my dad directly, but my father simply twirled his cane between his fingers, knocking aside the palm as he stepped casually aside.
The souls surrounded them, and suddenly he was a part of their terrible dance, becoming the focal point of the attacks, every movement in harmony with the assault of his mercury army. I watched Tartarus land a hit on his coat, and was shocked to see it rebound, because that wasn’t black velvet, it was woven Obsidian. Even his outfit was made of souls.
“The final step to execute the Punitive Contract is to fulfill a condition you refuse to allow.” My father said as his cane lashed out and smashed Tartarus’s knee. The big man stumbled, the followup strike of the flashing mirrored skull slamming into his mask.
Metal collapsed, the helmet crumpling inward under the force, and Tartarus stumbled back into the waiting arms of the soul army.
“You can’t do this.” Mumbled Tartarus through broken teeth. The last blow had mostly crushed his lower jaw. “I am a champion of the Lady of Lamentation. I serve the will of a divine being. She won’t let you take my soul.”
My father just smiled vindictively. “Take it? My dear boy, you’ve just given it to me. Your defeat completes the contract. Perhaps she can save you, but then, Skills usually have so much trouble with souls. Let’s find out.” He unfurled the contract again, and snapped his fingers, leaving his cane to sit upright on its own.
Tartarus stiffened, screams trying to wring their way out of his throat, but something had them blocked. He choked and gagged, and as I watched, horrified, a pair of hands emerged from his broken mouth. Mercury hands that grabbed his mouth from either side and pulled.
I grimaced as Tartarus’s soul tore its way out of his mouth, ripping him apart as it emerged, a quicksilver copy of the monstrous warrior. My dad grimaced, lifting his cane off the bloody ground and wiping it on the mercury pants of the copy. “Messy.” He said distastefully.
The being formerly known as Tartarus stood silently at attention among the throngs of souls, waiting for orders. My dad stepped back out of the blood and tapped his cane again, and the thirteen souls disappeared, leaving only his newest acquisition. “Go pick up Zeke.” He told it dispassionately. “You injured him, it’s the least you can do.”
Nodding jerkily, the now once again skull masked man headed over and lifted my uncle effortlessly.
My dad strode over, offering my mother his hand urbanely. “Honey.” He said with a small smile. “I’m home.” Her beaming smile was so bright it almost hurt to look at. Literally, she was still in her fire form. But it faded away as she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet.
After staring into each other’s eyes for a moment, he turned to walk over to us. He tapped the golden barrier with the head of his cane and it shattered, coalescing back into the orb it had been, which he deftly caught. He nodded to Chelsea and me. We stared at each other for a few seconds.
Stepping forward, I reached up and gave him a tight hug…then stepped back and punched him full force in the throat. “Fuck.” I snapped as I heard (and felt) a bunch of bones crack in my hand.
“Feel better?” He asked in a tone so bland it couldn’t be anything but smug.
I glared at him. “No you asshole, my fucking hand is broken!” But I actually kind of did, in a weird way. Jessie stepped forward, taking my hand in hers, and started manually manipulating the small bones back into position with her thumbs (an experience I never wanted to go through again) and then flooded it with life energy.
Luckily it seemed that the injury didn’t really count as being inflicted by an A-ranker, so it didn’t take long to heal. My mother smiled in wry amusement. “I suppose I should have included a lesson on not punching things more than four ranks above your weight class.”
“Wouldn’t have helped.” I said as I flexed my now repaired hand. “Some things need to be done, even if they’re stupid. Now let's get out of here.” Turning away from my dad, I stalked off down the corridor. Then I stopped as I got a mental message from Callie.
Sighing internally, I leaned down, picked up a random piece of debris from the fight, and stormed back down the way I’d come. I held up the rock. “I needed this.” I snapped as I did my best not to meet anyone’s eyes. Everyone kept quiet, pretending I hadn’t just gone the wrong way. Small victories.