Chapter 75: The Demon Duke
The souls of the departed became Wade’s shield, willingly sacrificing themselves for him. Their courage and fury made them fearless in the face of death.
Wade beheaded the necromancer who had brought endless suffering, Radiance piercing through that still-beating heart. The furious head rolled across the ground as the headless corpse collapsed.
Quasimodo’s proud corpse poison technique proved useless against an undead like Wade, who felt no effects from the toxins. Even the sewn beast’s corpse explosion was countered by the departed souls sacrificing themselves.
The conditions for victory had long been established. Wade was certain he had killed Quasimodo Vic – his skeletal instincts allowed him to perceive all living beings. No necromancer could deceive his soul vision with puppets or zombie substitutes.
As a skeleton, his vision couldn’t be obscured. Counterfeits could never escape his sight. Just as Quasimodo had directed his undead hellhounds to find the hidden Tanians, Wade could now find him. Necromantic spells were nearly ineffective against Wade.
Even the dead paved his way, determined to eradicate this evil being. While Wade had destroyed Quasimodo’s physical form, it wasn’t over yet – the mage’s soul remained.
The malice within that shell hadn’t dissipated, but there was no need for fear now. With head separated from neck and heart pierced, the mage’s magic had scattered. His soul stood exposed, weak as a candle in the wind.
The feeble soul could no longer restrain those grudging spirits. The spirits that had surrounded Quasimodo were now freed, joyfully chasing after the starlight in the sky. Remaining in this world meant only suffering for them.
They didn’t torment the mage’s soul or seek revenge, simply rejoicing in their freedom. Under the moonlight, the grudging spirits gradually became transparent, glowing specks drifting from their edges. Their gloomy light faded as they merged with the milky way of stars, dancing with the departed.
Wade heard their gratitude. Some glowing specks fell toward him, landing in his palm and transforming into pure, transparent crystals. Like tears, or diamonds.
He sensed these crystals contained some pure power, similar to but fundamentally different from a necromantic core. These diamond-like crystals felt more spiritual than material, weightless in his hand.
He didn’t know the purpose of this gift from the grudging spirits, nor was this the time to ponder it. Even the mage’s soul couldn’t be allowed to remain.
Pocketing the crystals, he called Mia. The little ghost appeared above the corpse’s remains, extracting a thick black mist – the mage’s lingering soul. Only by having Mia decompose and digest it would Quasimodo Vic be completely destroyed.
Leaving it be risked unknown contingencies – a necromancer’s soul might find ways to resurrect itself as undead. To eliminate weeds, one must remove the roots, leaving no future troubles.
Mia seemed to need time to consume this soul mass, but Wade couldn’t relax yet. Behind him, the bloated Demon Mother turned around.
It no longer charged at Wade, simply standing still. Its unnatural stillness was unsettling. The creature faced Wade – or rather, Quasimodo’s corpse – from a distance.
The grotesque smile on its swollen crimson face suddenly twisted into something more horrifying. The Demon Mother’s maw split open, stretching ear to ear, revealing jagged fangs in a sight both bizarre and chilling.
It stopped firing fireballs at Wade. Instead, it raised its hands and stabbed its own eyes in self-mutilation. A low growl vibrated from its ugly torso as dark red blood streamed from its eye sockets. Despite crushing its own eyeballs, its smiling mouth emitted infant-like wails.
Within those cries, Wade detected something resembling language. The blood flowing from its eyes formed an ancient magic circle on the ground rather than spilling randomly. The scene resembled legendary demon summoning rituals. Wade didn’t know what would happen, but anything involving demons couldn’t be good.
He raised Radiance, intending to interrupt the ritual, but the gaping mouth suddenly transformed into a vortex. A gale-force wind pulled everything toward it as the Demon Mother madly inhaled. The creature lost all normal form, becoming an indescribable mass of crimson flesh.
The strong winds buffeted Mia. Wade dropped his iron sword to grab her, preventing her from being sucked into that abyssal maw. While he saved the little ghost, something else escaped his grasp – Quasimodo’s corpse!
Suddenly Wade understood. The Demon Mother meant to consume Quasimodo’s body! The brand on the corpse’s left arm matched the pattern drawn by the Demon Mother’s blood. That left arm glowed red again after the self-mutilation.
Too late to stomp or pull back the corpse – everything happened too fast. Wade could only swing his sword, trying to destroy the body. His powerful strikes severed and split the left arm, but the fragments still converged in the wind, keeping the brand intact.
Some irresistible will and power protected that pattern. The Demon Mother successfully swallowed Quasimodo’s corpse, then closed its maw and fell silent.
The blood on the ground burned into the stone, releasing molten light. The air grew scorching hot – despite winter, heat waves distorted the space around the Demon Mother. Snow melted across the plaza. Even Wade, who shouldn’t feel temperature as an undead, sensed burning heat like being alive again.
Since becoming a skeleton, only Mia had given him any temperature sensation – and that was cold. This felt like immersion in boiling water, ant-bite stings spreading through his soul. Mia suddenly worsened, trembling and whimpering as she shrank into Wade’s palm.
The mage’s soul she’d extracted was pulled away, drifting toward that fleshy mass. Watching it, Mia extended a small hand. The black mist split into unequal portions during the tugging. Mia urgently swallowed the smaller portion, then covered her mouth as if fearing her “meal” might be stolen.
Something beyond ordinary was arriving. Radiance’s brilliant glow dimmed abruptly, its hum silenced. It became like an ordinary iron sword – its divine power forged into it now suppressed by greater evil.
The air solidified. Wade felt he’d entered a forbidden domain. A fiery silhouette emerged from the brand. Seeing it, countless visions flashed before Wade’s eyes – magma and flames, black mist and volcanoes. Merely witnessing it felt like being set aflame.
Among those countless visions, he heard innumerable voices chanting that name:
—Em.
Just as he felt he’d burn to ashes, soul included, he suddenly heard singing. A beautiful, melodious song, echoing as if from distant valleys. The lullaby-like melody brought peace, dispelling the burning sensation.
In that instant, Wade only glimpsed a strand of soft silver hair – shimmering with starlight as it floated in the wind, ethereal as silk and dreams.