MarvinKnight
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Paladin 4: Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2022-12-21 16:00:05 +0000 UTCDarren and Callum were in the Northern Trade Union within the hour. It took Callum nearly as long to steady himself on his feet as it took for them to make the trip.
“Well... I hope when I reach the fourth order and get some wings, my flight skill will boost my speed enough that we never have to do that again,” Callum chuckled. “Getting carried over your shoulder like a sack of grain was more than a little uncomfortable. I don’t get how Cassandra and the others can like getting carried by you so much, if that’s what it feels like.”
“I carry them differently,” Darren explained. “Come on. Cultist bandits have taken over an old citadel up ahead.”
The place Darren and Callum were heading was similar to Lichenfell Citadel, the next citadel over from the one where the Order of the Leaf still stayed. In years past, this citadel had been much like that one, and it had been called Neverhorn. Sigil-wielding holy warriors had once used it as a bastion to focus their efforts on clearing out all the demons of the surrounding lands, and to withstand a siege by an army of the Seven Hells if need be.
Unfortunately, the last of its guardians had abandoned it at some point, and nature had been left to reclaim it. Vines and moss grew over the walls, hiding the shining white stone so that it was hard to pick out from its ragged, mountainous surroundings.
Its weather-worn disguise was probably at least part of the reason why cultists and bandits had chosen to take it over. It was as hard to find as it was difficult to assault.
Callum let out a low whistle when he saw the place. Darren had to point the citadel out for him because his eyes glazed right over it the first few times he looked.
“Wow, you’d need an army to assault that place. I thought those walls were cliffs!”
“Not an army. Just the two of us,” Darren replied.
Callum tightened his grip on his trusty bone spear, the very weapon Darren had given him when they first met. There was fear in his eyes but also fire. The resolve Darren had seen in him so long ago burned brighter than ever. They had fought bandits and cultists like these before, back when Callum wasn’t even a holy adept.
“This time, I will take on my share,” Callum promised.
Darren picked him up under the arms and then flew toward the citadel at high speed. He wasn’t aiming for stealth this time, since the two of them planned to clear the place out with such speed and ruthlessness that it wouldn’t matter if the cultists heard them. They wouldn’t be able to rally their defenses in time.
These cultists were doing a worse job of protecting the citadel than even the soft warriors of Lichenfell Citadel, but Darren couldn’t criticize them much. Cultists are not always warriors, though they bring bloodshed everywhere they go.
Darren spotted no one on the walls or on the lookout posts, and the pyres that should have been lit looked as though they hadn’t been tended to in years. The cultists residing in this citadel probably thought not lighting them would help them remain hidden, but once Darren knew where to look, he could see faint columns of smoke rising up from deeper in the citadel, so it wasn’t like they weren’t burning fires already.
The two of them landed with a dull thud on the smooth-carved granite. The vines and moss climbing up the side of the citadel had infiltrated even here, and Callum nearly tripped over a vine as
thick around as his head as he fought to steady himself from the flight.
“Now what?” Callum asked. “Do we just go from room to room?”
Darren shook his head. “Wait and listen.”
Darren stretched out his senses, both magical and mundane. Tiny tendrils of Divine Aura stretched out all around him in the present, and his Oracle Sight peered into the future. If there was anything of interest to find, his tendrils found it. Soon, he had counted a hundred and twenty-seven cultists, most of whom were centered around an area deep within the citadel as they worked on a ritual there. It looked to be a larger variation of a summoning ritual.
“We came just in time. They are up to something,” Darren said as he explained what he saw.
“More than a hundred... any corrupt sigil wielders among them?” Callum asked.
Darren nodded. “Lots. About twelve at the third order.”
Callum tightened his grip on his spear. “Twelve. Alright then. I’m curious to see how good they really are.”
Darren and Callum swept through the perimeter of the cult’s operations. While most of the cultists were involved in their dark deeds, others acted more like support for a more mundane organization. People needed to be fed and clothed, and some focused on those jobs instead of mastering the darker rituals.
Normally, there would be quite a few specializing in combat as well, but those cultists must have been working on the ritual in the center of the citadel, completely abandoning their defenses.
While the cooks, cleaners, tailors, and servants were not as tightly tied to the cult as its inner circle, their souls were still clearly marked by the dark energy they practiced. All of them had taken in some measure of Demonic Aura to make themselves a little stronger and faster than ordinary humans. They all looked quite young too, with most in their twenties or thirties. That also was a deception, as the Demonic Aura they absorbed and extended their lives to unnatural lengths.
No doubt that was one of this cult’s big draws to outsiders. They could promise youth and beauty to the poor masses who had no hope of binding a sigil and gaining powers and youth that way.
All these cultists were too far gone to be saved. When Darren and Callum appeared, they dropped what they were doing and attacked. Callum was nearly struck in the head with a frying pan thrown with enough speed and force to shatter one of the stone pillars behind him. He barely managed to attack the cook before she got her hands on her kitchen knives.
Another sweeping the halls snapped his broom into a sharpened stake and charged at Callum the moment he saw him. The cultist had no words demanding surrender or even cries to alert the rest of the citadel. There was only crude, animalistic bloodlust as he sought to beat Callum to death with a stick.
Unfortunately for him, Callum had a stick of his own, topped with one of the finest spearheads Darren had found through his early adventures through the Seven Hells. Callum slammed that spearhead through the cultists’ hearts. The snarling, spitting man rapped Callum on the helmet with his broken broom handle, but it did nothing more than make the metal ring before Callum grabbed it and tore it from the dying cultist’s hands.
“Why do they always come for me?” Callum asked Darren, who was standing behind him with his arms crossed.
Darren gave Callum a faint smile. Darren was wearing his cloak of the mysterious hero, so he could only be noticed if he wanted to be noticed. These cultists probably didn’t even see him.
Not that they could have done anything to him if they had. Darren’s powers were so great that first-order demons died instantly in his presence. The cultists they’d run into so far only had about as much Demonic Aura as the average imp, so they would probably count as first-order demons.
Darren had been curious if he could use the ability to turn these cultists back into regular humans, but their bodies had grown dependent on the Demonic Aura. While Callum was fighting the man with a broom, Darren noticed another woman with a mop sneaking up behind him. He’d used the ability to take care of her, and she had gone from looking like a youthful nineteen year old to someone closer to ninety in the span of a second when Darren dispelled the Demonic Aura within her.
She didn’t even have time to land a blow on Darren before she collapsed to her knees, clutching her heart as her body gave out on her.
Darren pointed to her body now that Callum was asking.
“Ah... I see. You’ve just been taking care of them too fast for me to see...” Callum chuckled. “I am glad you have my back.”
Their travels took them through the rest of the citadel, and Darren kept his mystical senses active the entire time. It turned out there weren’t only cultists in this citadel. He had thought the number of cultists working logistical duties seemed a little low, and now he knew why.
There were lots of ordinary humans deeper in the citadel, some likely attached to the cult, and some quite clearly their victims.
There were several locked rooms filled with people. Unlike the walls around the citadel, these rooms were locked and guarded. The people inside were thin and malnourished, huddling in the darkness as they quaked in terror. It was a familiar sight to Darren and Callum both.
Callum’s vigor redoubled when Darren told him about the prisons, and he ran toward them as soon as Darren mentioned them. That was where they encountered the first of his third order corrupted sigil wielders.
“I want this one,” Callum said, teeth grit tight and with a righteous scowl on his face.
Darren crossed his arms and nodded. Callum rushed forward, attacking the corrupted sigil wielder with an overwhelming flurry of blows. Darren smiled when he realized it was a stance and pattern of attack that he himself had taught Callum.
He no doubt expected the corrupted sigil wielder to react with a parry or a defensive skill to block the opening attack, after which he would twist the spear around for the real thrust.
Only the third-order cultist hadn’t even realized he was under attack until Callum’s spear point was sunk point-deep into his chest between his ribs.
“Huh?” the man gasped as he was knocked backward by Callum’s charge, and the flask he’d been in the middle of drinking from toppled from his hands, spilling alcohol all over the floor.
Callum pulled his spear out and was readying another attack when the cultist finally reacted and drew his sword. Crimson light enveloped the cultist’s body, while the beginnings of a shield formed around his entire body.
Absolute Analysis: Skill Analysis
Third Order Cultist has activated the ability, Crimson Slash (Common)
Third Order Cultist has activated the ability, Rapid Mend (Common)
Third Order Cultist has activated the ability, Energy Shield (Common)
Darren wasn’t too impressed with the abilities the cultist wielded. They were all skills he’d seen before, and none of them were particularly strong. Even discounting his superior training and the fact that Callum had learned his skills instead of having stolen them, Callum had the decided advantage.
And he proved as much a moment later as Callum obliterated the cultists’ defenses and pierced his heart before he could so much as roll back to his feet. Just like that, the fight was over as quickly as it started.
“Well... that was easier than I expected. Surprise attacks are truly remarkable. I just wish there was room to fly here so I could strike from above,” Callum said as he shook the blood from his spear point.
“Well done,” Darren replied. “This one was weaker than average, but you are stronger than you know.”
They opened the door to the prison, and Darren poured some of his Lifewell water into a few large jugs, which they passed around.
“Stay here a while,” Callum told the prisoners."We will rescue you, but not until we take care of the rest of the cultists."
A young girl tugged on Callum’s pant leg. “Are... are you two paladins?”
“We are,” Callum replied, a beaming smile on his face as he gave the child a pat on the head. “Don’t worry. This troubling time for you is nearly at an end.”
“Those cultists are strong! Are you sure you can take them?” A gaunt man asked. “I know where the armory is. If we could steal some weapons, maybe we could help.”
Callum shook his head. “You can grab weapons if you want, but stay away from the fighting. Darren and I have trained for this kind of thing. It’s better if the two of us take them on alone.”
The man nodded, eyes already peering down the hall. He was the type who wouldn’t be satisfied with a mere rescue. He wouldn’t feel free until he killed his captors with his own hands.
There were several more prisons like the first, each growing a little sparser and the people locked within a little weaker. The first group they rescued had probably been captured recently. The last room was also half empty. They’d probably already been used as human sacrifices for minor rituals, like summoning enough Demonic Aura for the cultists to empower themselves. The rest of these prisoners were probably being gathered for the big ritual the cultists were preparing.
Besides the cultists’ victims in the prisons, there were also about a hundred regular people. These were likely the mortal families of cultists or the hopeful people wishing to join the cult. They were concentrated on the outer grounds of the citadel, and most of them were working the land for crops or tending to the animals outside. More than a few had traces of Demonic Aura on them, a sure sign that they’d started their push to become full members of the cult.
Ordinarily, Darren wouldn’t have spared them. There was no way they could be here without knowing what the organization they hoped to join was up to. They were party to human sacrifice and summoning demons to wreak havoc on their surroundings.
But running around their ankles, Darren could see the occasional child. They were giddily playing in the citadel as children loved to do, ignorant of the atrocities their families had signed them up for.
In time, those children would no doubt grow to become some of this cult’s most loyal vassals. Some of the older ones might already be fully indoctrinated. But Darren would not cut short the lives of the innocent to slay the guilty. If he had to spare a few cultists so that these children could survive until they grew a little older and returned to civilization, then that was what he’d do.
He steered Callum away from that section of the citadel. Instead, they were headed deeper, where most of the cultists were gathered.
Darren had left Melancholy in the Blackwind Empire’s capital so Ashe could keep talking with Cassandra, but that didn’t mean he had any shortage of weapons.
The last time he’d used a sword other than his favorite in battle, it had broken on the body of a demonic dragon. He didn’t ever want to run into such a problem again. He’d spent a bit of time in the capital, purifying and upgrading one of the best weapons in his collection into something he would be comfortable using in battle.
Absolute Analysis: Item Analysis
Hell-Sundering Blade of Annihilation (Mythic)
Forged from iron drawn from the blood of ten thousand fifth order demon lords and purified in Divine Aura of the highest caliber, this blade cuts through all in its path. No physical armor or barrier can block its cut, and all structures of Demonic Aura can be cleaved by its edge.
His sword temporary replacement sword wasn’t about as long as Melancholy, but it was considerably thinner. It was so thin that if viewed from the edge, it appeared to be nothing more than a two-dimensional line drawn on the air. As thin as a sheet of paper, the sword passed through stone and wood like it wasn’t even there. A few tests against armor proved it just as capable. The only thing that could resist the sword were skills, defenses, and magical artifacts.
“Looks shiny,” Callum commented as he nodded to the brilliant azures and purple shades shimmering up and down the length of the Hell-Sundering Blade of Annihilation.
Darren gave him a nod, and then two of them kicked down the door to the citadel’s central chamber.
Their loud entrance immediately caught the attention of half the cultists. When the others stopped working and started drawing weapons, the rest took notice.
Darren and Callum were both clearly paladins. Their shining armor, bright clothes, and massive figures were nothing like those of the cultists.
“Paladins! We’re under attack!” The call went up among the cultists.
“Kill them, you fools! Everyone not working on the ritual, attack!” spoke a woman. She seemed older than the others, which meant she was probably hundreds of years old at least. She wore black robes like the rest of the cultists working around her, but hers had gold trim on the edges and a pattern circling her body. She was probably a leader among them, or at least someone very high-ranking in this cult. Darren would have to make sure to take care of her.
The cultists scrambled into action. Those working on the ritual redoubled their efforts, painting lines from buckets of warm blood. Darren could see the pair of maidens laying on an unholy altar nearby, wrists splayed open and dangling into a fresh set of buckets for the cultists to paint with.
Next to them, a man chubby man had been killed, and his belly fat flayed off to make the candles the cultists were laying out in a circle and lighting one by one. Darren was trying to figure out how to safely diffuse the ritual when a bubble lit up around the cultists, channeled by a group of a dozen of their chanting peers. It looked like they would need to cut the cult down to size before he could even begin to shut down their ritual.
Callum looked to the vaulted ceilings overhead and grinned. “Looks like just enough room to fly.”
He took to the air. Despite not having wings, Callum’s flight skill was one of his most cherished abilities. He had honed his entire battle style around being able to swoop down from above and transfer all of his momentum into a deadly blow with his spear that could break through the defenses of all but the strongest opponents.
The cultists, on the other hand, were entirely unprepared to fight someone airborne. Only a single one of them had a ranged weapon at all, and that was just a sling. They were stuck throwing rocks and knives at Callum in their desperate attempts to hit him. Meanwhile, he flew around the chamber and swept down to take out one cultist after another the moment they were away from their comrades.
Sensing they couldn’t pull Callum from the sky, most of the sword-wielding cultists turned to Darren, thinking he’d be the easier of the two of them to take down.
That was the greatest mistake they’d ever make in their lives. And also the last mistake.
Two dozen charged him at once, and with one swing of his sword, Darren sent two dozen headless bodies toppling to the ground. Some held their swords up to block, and others quickly donned helmets, so they were prepared for battle. It didn’t matter. Before Darren and his blade, all died before they even knew what hit them.
“By the Seven Hells...” the cult leader said as she reached into her robes. “You are strong, paladin. But not strong enough to stand against the pinnacle of all the powers of hell! Behold, a wand of corruption crafted by the Lady of Darkness herself!”
From her sleeve, she withdrew something about the length of her arm and as thick around as a coin. Veins pulsed along the length of its purple flesh, and it twitched as though it was alive.
The head of the wand was polished into a gentle mushroom head, and at the base, there were a pair of rubies. The entire wand had a gentle upward curve to it, giving the weapon a distinctly phallic shape. In fact, knowing the Lady of Darkness, that was what she had in mind when she carved the thing.
Absolute Analysis: Item Analysis
- Unholy Phallus of Corruption (Mythic)
- This toy was crafted by Laura, the Lady of Darkness. It contains immense quantities of Demonic Aura, and it is capable of absorbing Divine Aura it stays in contact with and converting it into Demonic Aura. If left in intimate contact with a being of the Divine alignment, it will slowly convert them into a being of the Demonic alignment.
“That weapon is not what you think it is,” Darren said to the cult leader. She might have thought it was some wand of incredible power, but Darren knew the truth. It was one of Laura’s failed attempts at making a sex toy.
“Ha! Believe me, Paladin! I know this weapon. It has been the cornerstone of this cult for thousands of years!” She cackled when she saw Darren’s look of concern. “The Lady of Darkness used wands just like this one to defeat countless seraphim and turn them into the first of her Prime Sins! I wonder what kind of demon you will turn into when I touch you with it!”
Darren was pretty sure it would take a lot more than a touch to make an item like that work, assuming he didn’t respond to it by using his purification skill. He was pretty certain his skill could at least match the corrupting power of the dildo, if not outright overpower it.
But testing that would involve touching the dildo, which was something Darren didn’t want to do.
The cult leader thrust the dildo toward Darren, and he jumped back.
The cult leader hissed, thrusting the dildo toward him again, and Darren was forced to dodge once more. He was driven further back by the old woman and her villainous weapon, but Darren had ground to give. Behind the two of them, Callum was making quick work of the rest of the cult. Those outside the shield were scattering in their fear and panic, and now Callum was picking off those chanting one after another so that only those finalizing the ritual remained.
By now, those within the shield had finished setting up all the candles, and Darren sensed Demonic Aura surging all around him. He realized he would need to risk getting touched by Laura’s dildo or face whatever was about to come out of that summoning circle. So he swept his sword low, taking off the cult leader’s hand at the wrist.
The severed hand still clutched the dildo, and it flew toward Darren’s face. For the first time in the fight, he used all of his speed and skill to dodge. The air shook as he vanished from one location and appeared all the way across the room. The vacuum left in his wake let out a loud crack behind him.
The cult leader fell to her knees, clutching her bleeding stump. She muttered something under her breath, and a new hand regenerated over the stump. Only this hand wasn’t human. It was as red as blood and had claws for nails. That was a demon’s hand.
“You’ll pay for that!” She shrieked, then pointed her new clawed hand at the summoning circle. “Behold, the infernal might of Archdemon Kortharat, the giantess!
That was a name Darren had heard before. Kortharat was the name of one of the demons he’d killed recently. She’d been the one with the ability to turn into a giant. But Darren was certain he’d killed her, so whoever this cultist was working with in hell, it wasn’t who she thought she was working with.
The answer appeared a moment later as a dozen ragged-looking demon lords appeared. They looked less like a group of terrifying leaders of demon-kind and more like a band of homeless refugees.
“Finally, we’ve escaped the Seven Hells! Those insane human warriors will never think to look for us on the surface!” One of the demons chortled. “We can hide right under their noses!”
“Oh, great lords of Hell!” The cult leader prostrated herself on the ground, forehead pressed to the stone. “I must have your aid dealing with these vile paladins!”
The demon lords turned to Darren. If demons could turn pale, they would have at that moment.
<Note>
The Paladin of the Spirit (book 3 in this series) audiobook is supposed to go live today.
Stay tuned, because I'll be giving out a bunch of free codes again.
Comments
Iron Akela
Just re-reading, and aren’t Laura’s dildos all called ‘rods of corruption’?
Iron Akela
Love your chapter, but a couple of things have been bugging me for hours. Firstly, I’d have thought there’s be a quest to recover an ancient base and wipe out the cultists. Secondly, holy crap Darren is wearing armour?!? When did that happen?! As it’s such a rare occasion, could that be explicitly stated, as well as what he’s wearing etc. Darren wearing armour is, by your own admission Marvin, very rare, so this is a special occasion
