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Chapter 77: Late Night Autopsy
🕑 Added 2025-11-12 10:00:06 +0000 UTCIt was the late hours of the evening. Most aboard the corvette were asleep.
Within a room hidden away in a dark corner of the ship, reeking of blood and brine, Eri studied a corpse.
He was not alone. Kalisa stood beside him, looking hungrily at the pressure-crushed body of Admiral Rann.
“It is not often I get to perform an autopsy on a Jewelled Core. Maelric was an initially interesting specimen to dissect, but overall ended up a disappointment,” Kalisa said. “There was nothing special about his constitution save for the fact that he was a Sapphire Core. No signs of Elder physiology or surgical modification. This, however—”
“Will be the same, most likely,” Eri interrupted. “I doubt our friend here underwent the tender care of the Duskcrowns’ surgeons.”
Kalisa looked at him curiously. “The admiral was able to use Demonic Artes without signs of corruption. That in and of itself is noteworthy. Given the Duskcrowns' track record thus far of producing Chosens with unnatural and powerful abilities, it seemed likely they are the ones responsible.”
Eri remained unconvinced. “Let’s not waste time. A Sapphire-Core body isn’t going to be easy to cut through, and I only have one arm. I’ll be relying heavily on you.”
“Is that the only reason you invited me? To make up for your missing arm?” Kalisa teased. “I’m hurt my assistant thinks so little of me.”
Eri sighed. “We don’t have all night. Let’s begin. Start with a standard Y-incision, medial to lateral…”
Few needless words were exchanged after that. Eri and Kalisa had conducted surgeries together countless times before. Their shared passions for the medical sciences gave them considerable rapport. More importantly, they worked well together.
Admiral Rann’s body, however, proved to be a complex piece to dissect. Eri was forced to bring out the larger tools — a mechanical contraption of blades, saws, drills, and shears. Spider-like in shape, the complex machine hovered over the corpse as it painstakingly chipped away at its steel-like flesh.
Bit by bit, the torso opened up to them. What they saw was unsettling, but it confirmed a part of Eri’s suspicion.
“Extensive crystal-like infection across his ribs, forming a plate,” Kalisa noted. “The ossified growths seemed to be spreading. Severe bone deformation caused by crystals in the spine and marrow. A strange cancerous growth on his organs. I recognise this… It’s corruption. Demonic degeneration.”
“Overexposure to the foul energies of Hell,” Eri nodded. “That explains the lack of corrupted mana when he used the Demonic Artes during our battle. It was all absorbed into his body.”
“It is killing him. Was killing him,” Kalisa frowned. She tilted her head. “It’s still spreading. Interesting. Something else still lives inside him.”
Astute. Eri grimaced. He had been hoping the Foxkin would not have noticed. “We need to find it.”
“You already knew it was in here, didn’t you?” Kalisa smiled. “Keeping secrets from your teacher, little assistant?”
“You keep secrets from me, too,” he murmured.
She hummed. “You are still angry about Cedric? How juvenile. And here I thought you had matured a little.”
“You knew he had been hiding in Kaldreach all those years,” Eri said, his anger burning quietly. “You knew of his suffering. You purposefully never told me.”
“Like I said, you didn’t need to know,” Kalisa easily replied. “What would you care for the suffering of a child who tried to kill you?”
“I always thought of you as eccentric, brilliant, and curious. I never once thought of you as cruel,” Eri murmured. “But what you did to Cedric was inhumane.”
Four years. Four years spent in shadows, draining what little life he had left. If Eri had known, he would have never allowed it. Even now, the thought that he was partially responsible for the rogue’s silent torment all those years shamed him.
“Come now, don’t be so dramatic. I assure you, the life he spent hiding in the Hungry Gods’ shadow was far kinder than whatever the Duskcrowns gave or planned for him,” Kalisa hummed. “Besides, I saved his life from you, didn’t I? You were going to kill him that night before I stepped in.”
He remembered. He also remembered the words that made him pause when he asked her why.
“You will need him when Saint Ordovis comes for you.”
Saint Ordovis… A name he wished to never hear again. When Eri saw Cedric’s missing hand and the phantom wound left on his soul, he knew without doubt which weapon was responsible.
A sword he gave away long ago… There was only one possible wielder.
The millennium-old memory of that broken, winged creature he once fought still sent a chill down his spine, and thus Kalisa’s words were more than enough to stay his hand.
But that was then, and the question of how Kalisa knew remained unanswered. Thus, here and now, Eri found little reason in him to grant her his trust.
The two of them continued their work, cutting open organs, intestines, and gelatinous tissue. The corpse had been through much abuse, but somehow, the crystal structure within kept it from complete degradation.
It was as if… something within was purposefully preserving the corpse.
Eventually, hours into the autopsy, they found the source.
Kalisa sliced open the stomach, using a Ruby-grade saw to cut past the resilient, fibrous tissues.
Nestled within the bloated, water-logged organ was a glistening sea-blue gemstone the size of a fist.
It was not a crystalline tumour growth like the ones before. The moment it was exposed to the air, it moved, shimmering and crackling as it folded and twisted in on itself into a myriad of non-geometric shapes before settling back into the mould of a multi-faceted stone.
The stench of hell’s corruption filled the air.
“Now, this is new,” Kalisa murmured excitedly. “Definitely demonic in origin. A container for Hell magic? Did our pirate admiral here swallow this?”
“Must not have been easy,” Eri muttered. He frowned. “Look, it’s moving. This is… It can’t be. Is it a heart?”
The gemstone appeared alive. It changed its shape at regular intervals, shedding corruptive demon mana into the surrounding flesh, prompting more of the tumorous crystal growth to spread around the corpse.
“Admiral Rann killed an Archon before, didn’t he? Or that’s how the story goes, at least,” Kalisa added. “Ate the Archon’s heart, as well. Gave him unnatural powers, supposedly.”
“That’s stupid. That’s not how it works,” Eri complained.
“Yet the evidence is right before us,” Kalisa pointed to the geometric gemstone in the open stomach. The crystal shifted and morphed into a series of non-Euclidean shapes before settling into a cube.
“That’s not it. There’s something else at play. This mana, it feels… I think… Wait.” Eri frowned, then his eyes went wide.
Kalisa waited patiently.
Eri exhaled shakily. “I need you to leave the room.”
“Denied!” Kalisa said instantly. Her eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Kalisa, I’m serious. I need to be alone with the corpse.”
“Well, I’m serious as well. This is too interesting for me to let be.”
“You—!” Eri hissed. He took a breath to calm himself. “This is something only I can do. I have to be alone for this.”
“Something only you can do?” Kalisa mused. “Why, if it’s something only a Demon King can do, then I definitely should stay here and watch, shouldn’t I?”
Eri froze.
The gemstone in Rann’s stomach twitched.
The Foxkin smiled at him. “Come now. You aren’t as good at keeping secrets as you think. On a side note, I’m thoroughly offended you never introduced me to your pet dragon. I would have given dear Marchosias the best treats and walks.”
The gemstone twitched again.
Eri didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed entirely on Kalisa’s relaxed grin. Her tail wagged easily, completely unperturbed.
“You had Cedric spy on me,” he said flatly. “Is that why you snagged him, after the assassination attempt?”
“He was going to spy on you regardless, on account of a certain spurn-crazed lover you left behind, all those long centuries ago,” Kalisa hummed. “I simply ensured that his eyes did not stray from the intended sights, and that his tongue did not wag to unnecessary parties. You should be thanking me, really.”
Her hands reached out and patted Eri on the head, as if he were still a child. “No need to be so sour, Fourth Demon King Erizen. I mean you no harm, nor to those you care for. I am not here for that.”
“Then why are you here?” Eri demanded. His heart was pounding, even as his expression remained calm. His hands inched for his spatial pouch, ready to pull out a dagger.
“Right now?” The Foxkin brought a finger to her lips. “I’m here for a good time. Won’t you show me a good time, Eri~?”
For several seconds, the two stared at each other.
The gemstone in Rann’s corpse no longer morphed at regular beats.
Eventually, Eri sighed. He turned away from her. “Keep your distance. Stay in the corner of the room and be quiet, if you can. It’s for your own safety, too.”
Kalisa’s eyes gleamed with mischief. She mimicked zipping up her mouth before moving to the corner of the cramped surgical room.
Eri picked up a scalpel. His mind was abuzz with frantic thoughts and panic, but he forced himself to take deep breaths and calm down.
Whatever Kalisa did or did not know was irrelevant to the next step. If Eri did not manage this properly…
He was going to get killed.
So, same as ever, then, he thought humourlessly to himself.
Eri raised the scalpel over the gemstone, poised to plunge it down. The gesture was almost threatening. The gem did not twitch a single beat.
Then, the youth flicked the blade around and stabbed himself on the wrist.
Blood flecked onto the gleaming stone. This time, the gem moved, shaking erratically.
Eri sighed.
“Boil, my Blood.”
The Second Form of his Bloodflame Artes set the blood on the stone ablaze. At the same time, Eri drew a dagger of sanguine fire from his wrist, twirling the blade around.
He held the bloody tip to the gem. “Are you going to come out, or do I have to pry you from your shell? Greet your lord, Marquis.”
The gemstone ceased its shivers.
A crack appeared.
From the minuscule gap, a flood of liquid light poured forth. Its volume far exceeded whatever could be contained in such a tiny vessel. Potent arcana filled the room, the ‘heart’ giving shape to diagrams of impossible angles and floating mirrored prisms that shimmered faintly with inner flecks of stars.
Edges folding upon edges, reflections twisting infinitely inward, the blinding geometry of light grew and grew, like a tree sprouting from a seed. A shape began to take form — a monstrous avian man-beast wrought entirely of crystal. Emaciated and humanoid, what few ‘feathers’ it possessed were razors of glass and diamond, refracting the room’s light into a thousand fractured rainbows, painting the walls with mad colours.
Eventually, it settled on a colour — sea-blue, the same shade as the tumorous crystal growths on Admiral Rann. It was the colour of a cold fire, caught in its veins. The final form was large, with the skeletal-like creature hunched over as its arched spine scraped against the ceiling.
It possessed the vague shape of a man, but was far too thin. The limbs were too long, the joints too sharp. Every movement produced a faint chiming — distant bells striking on bones. Its head was that of a bird’s skull, elongated and faceted like carved quartz.
The haunting, crystalline beast opened its beck. A long, purple tongue licked the flecks of Eri’s burning blood from the tip of its avian crown. It shivered in pleasure.
Empty eye sockets turned to Eri, who stared back dispassionately. The demon loomed over him, looking down on him.
Even on its inhuman face, the once-Demon King could sense his subordinate’s recalcitrant smile.
It was all too familiar. The nature of the arrogant peacock had not changed.
No… More than that…
The arrogant peacock was the same one he knew when Eri had still been the Demon King.
The demon noble — Marquis Andrealphus, the 65th Favoured of Hell — bowed its head mockingly.
“Lord Fourth. You have grown shorter since we last met.”
Comments
Carlos
Man Kalisa really is super annoying to me
Arnon Parenti
Shorter of temper too you insufferable Twitter, you owe me money and death is no excuse to avoid your taxes.
