God of Nothing

"Miss Iona!" Rayse rushed forward, but it was no use. Deceit's child rushed her, aiming the dagger into the squad leader's back with decisiveness, and he wouldn't get there in time.

Desperate, Rayse reached out to the shiv, mentally linking up with it in an attempt to slow down the blow. It was unresponsive. He couldn't even discern the type of metal it had. Rayse roused his mana, engulfing his own body with a dense purple light. The material seems to respond this time, allowing him to make another attempt.

"Stop!"

This time, Iona's assailant began to visibly struggle with the weapon. She had noticed the threat to her life by now, managing to dodge to the side and barely avoid a mortal wound. Still, the shiv plunged deep into her shoulder.

"Ugh! Brand!" Her hands turned bright crimson as she grasped the demon's head, searing the demon like a branding iron. 

"Kaaaaaaak!" it squirmed, trying to escape her grasp. Iona had her in a vice grip, hand firmly on the demon's head. When Rayse finally arrived, he had to pry away the demon's unmoving carcass from Iona before he could take a look at her shoulder.

"No! Don't touch it!" Iona said, struggling with her belt pouch with one hand.

"Help me open this. Take the clear liquid flask– Yes, that one."

Rayse hurriedly brought it to her mouth, fretting over her swiftly deteriorating state. She was silent now, mouthing words he couldn't discern. He still felt the shiv, it's malicious aura intact despite its master's demise. Through mana enhanced vision, he saw an unknown energy begin to spread from the wound, wisps of black tendrils slowly reaching into the rest of her body. Whatever she drank seemed to be driving it off, but the blade continued to emit those tendrils, and despite the medicine, Rayse could already see the curse gaining ground. Iona warned her off of removing it, but if left unchecked, Rayse was sure it would wreak havoc on her.

Rayse breathed deeply, hand gingerly holding the foul blade's handle. That set off Iona, who escaped her catatonic state to frantically pull him away from the blade. It left him at an impasse. His mind raced, trying to find any scrap of knowledge that could help him here. He looked from his glowing hand to the shiv that dripped with black energy, searching for some clue. Curses… What do I know about curses?

Rayse remembered how Aleph disabled his Berserk by taking in the energy into himself. He shook his head at the memory. Whatever this was, he was wary of letting it into his body. His master had also told them how he got rid of Eric's curse. He fished around his pockets for empty crystals, but those had already been used on enchanting arrowheads. Rayse held the shiv's handle once again, and this time even Iona's weak protests were not enough to dissuade him. 

"Mmmm…" Iona mumbled unintelligibly. Her breathing came short and rough, and the wound itself was turning black where it touched the blade.

Out of time, he roused his mana once again, feeling for the tendrils of black that were clawing around Iona at this moment, and redirected the flow back into the blade.

Iona slumped, her body shutting off completely as a response to what Rayse just did. Hoping it was for the best, he continued to pull back the malicious energy. Some of the energy flowed back into him, almost startling him into letting go of the blade. 

"Not like that, you fool. Steady…" He mumbled to himself. He took several deep breaths, shook his head to clear it a bit, before continuing.

Time passed unabated as Rayse dripped with sweat, the heat from below much more pronounced for some reason. He let it all wash over him. Taking back the curse was like putting water back into a bowl after emptying it out on the floor, but he was somehow managing. 

…

"Huuuuup." He wiped at his brow. All the energy once again contained in the blade. Now all he needed to do was pull it out. Shwik! A pungent smell emanated from the exposed wound, though strangely enough, not as much blood as he thought.

"Heal." He patched up the stab wound as best he could. Iona stayed unconscious, but her breathing turned more even. He dared to hope that she was past the worst of it.

"How is she?"

"Huh?"

He turned around to see Aleph looking over his shoulder with a concerned expression. Suddenly feeling inept, he scrambled for whatever excuse to give.

"M-master, I–"

"You did it exactly how I would have, child. Now, how is she?" He asked kindly.

Rayse observed her condition, once again verifying the absence of any fell magic in her system. Satisfied, he told his master of his findings.

"The wound itself should be fine once she's well enough to down a potion. I've resealed the energy coming from this shiv, so she shouldn't have any more in her. Not large enough that the potion she had couldn't handle, anyway."

"Hmmm. Good work, child. Now, bring them down the ramparts and get some rest." He gestured towards someone he couldn't see.

"Huh? But I'm still–" Rayse hastily tried to stand, but he swayed dangerously to the side. The middle aged man from the wall kept him upright. Rayse didn't even notice him arriving. His vision blurred and his hands started to shake. Telltale signs of mana depletion.

"Lord Aleph. We'll take him now." He said reverently.

"W-wait. Flash." Rayse pulled in a bit of mana from his equipment in order to shower the group in a brief flash of light. Thankfully, it seemed that nobody else had those wood-like features Deceit's children had.

"Master, there could be more of these things around. A bright enough light reveals them, but without lord Carrack, we–"

"Let me worry about that, Rayse. Mister Jean, as you please." Aleph ordered, before turning back towards the embers down below.

With Jean's assistance, Rayse and Iona went back downstairs and into separate tents. Rayse fought it, but the call of slumber soon took hold. As he began to drift towards subconsciousness, somebody's head swam into view.

"Hey, kid. Are you alive?" He heard a woman say.

"Wait, you? But–"

"Shhhhhh. I'm not actually here. Anyway, listen. These guys are finished, so how about I bring you back to the Sanctum with me?"

"W-what are you talking about?"

"This little town you're defending. It'll be wiped off the map before sunrise. I pulled some strings, and God gave me permission to take you out of here. Just say the word and–"

"No…" He protested weakly, but that was all he could manage. A growing sense of dread fought back his exhaustion, each second pulling him back into complete wakefulness.

"Look at yourself, kid. You'll die if you keep this up." Something cold brushed against his cheek, but even with his eyes closed he could sense the malicious energy within it. "There's plenty more where this came from, and they're aimed at the throats of everyone here."

"No…" He moaned, or at least tried to. His voice ceased to work somehow.

"We don't have time for this. Before the heralds come, just let me use your body as an anchor so I can–"

"NO!"

Rayse sat up, holding out his hand in protest. He looked around disoriented, looking for the woman in the well. She was nowhere to be seen, of course. The tent he was put in didn't even have enough room for anyone to sit beside him.

The light from the tent bounced off something on his lap, catching his attention. He held it up, his confusion getting worse by the second. The dread he felt could not be more pronounced. 

In his hands was a shiv, the very same one he pulled out of Iona. 

__________________________________

Aleph looked down at the flames, trying to ignore the pungent smell of demons burning. The steady stream of harbingers continued unabated, marching endlessly into the fiery pits below. The ramparts shook with force as they at least tried to bring down the gates before they perished, but Iona's men were reinforcing it from below, protecting the townsfolk from the heat as well as the army that came to destroy them.

"Such deplorable creatures." He sighed, as he watched the harbingers charge to their deaths. These creatures were far below what he expected of Erebos. His army should have been a lot more grand than this, so what happened? 

He looked far into the horizon, taking a quick estimate of the enemy numbers. The end of the line was still nowhere to be seen. This part was much more familiar to him. An endless wave of blue, dealing death to anything it touches. There was no end in sight, threatening to smother them with their sheer numbers. Aleph doubted this army would stop at Kyrios too. 

These things, on the other hand… He thought as his eyes drifted towards the dead child of Deceit on the floor beside him. They were an entirely new strategy that the God of the Abyss employed. Such subterfuge wasn't needed in the previous army, after all. 

Rayse warned him to keep an eye out for more of these shapeshifters, and he did have an idea of how to flush them out, but it would have to wait, for now he had to take command.

"Mister? I'm here." Lacey's voice drifted towards him. He turned to see her standing there, 

"Ah. Lacey. Good job with the firepit."

"Mmm." She answered meekly, looking a bit too distracted for her usual enthusiasm. "Is Ray–"

"He is in camp, recuperating. He depleted his mana in saving Lady Iona. Worry not, child. They are both safe."

"Really? Whew, that's a relief." She touched her chest and blew out the breath she seemed to be holding. She was her normal bubbly self the rest of the way.

"What now? It's still hours til sunrise and we still need to

Aleph looked at his own hand, taking stock of his current strength. 

"I am not the strongest I could be, but so is the enemy. If Deceit herself infiltrated our ranks instead of this one, then we would already be finished. That tells me that her injuries are considerable. The rabble below is not a problem. We can hold them off for days with what I have planned for them."

"Plans?" Her eyes lit up as she repeated what he said. "When did you come up with those?"

Even in a situation as grave as this, Aleph had to smile at that. "Your actions today inspired this one, to be honest."

"Sir!" The two turned just as Arnold ran up the stairs. He was carrying a crate of bottles, his mana enriched body gracefully handling the delicate material despite the speed of his ascent.

"We've got 'em."

Aleph briefly inspected the bottles, noting the clear liquid within. 

"How much did you manage to get?"

"About 50 barrels' worth. These are Miss Lacey's, extra bottles to sustain the fire as we prepare."

"Huh? Prepare what? Tell me, mister!" She urged, but Aleph just chuckled, walking over to Deceit's child to pick up a few things. One was the creature's mana crystal, and the other was a nondescript pair of glasses. He searched around for the third item, but the Erosion Dagger was nowhere to be found.

Did Rayse take it…? He wondered briefly.

"Lacey. Keep this fire up as much as you can. Once it isn't fierce enough to immolate them, tell Luke to proceed with the next one."

"O-okay? But master, you didn't answer my question…" was her puzzled response, but Aleph was already jogging down the stairs towards a group of men pushing a line of carts along with their horses.

He put on the glasses, quickly scanning for any impostors. There was none among them, but such a large amount of flammable material was sure to attract the enemy's attention. 

He placed his hand on the crystal he just acquired, using it to replenish his own reserves. Now that Iona was not here, it was even more important for him to regain his strength.

"This is good enough. Go get your rest." He ordered. 

""Yes, my Lord!""

These people are just as important. They'll soon be unable to get breathers like this, so he wished to preserve them as much as possible.

Aleph approached the cart and opened. He used a considerable amount of mana just to bring these barrels up from the cellars. He opened one up, smelling the sterile fumes of Ethanol. Satisfied, he returned the lid before perusing the other crates. Good. It's all here.

He sat down on the spot and got to work.