C. Sebastian Nutt
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Chapter 203 - End of Madness
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 09:26:58 +0000 UTCThe demon screams its rage at me, swiping now with its hands while its tentacles are occupied, scaling the tree. The claws of its hands impossibly cut the air, slicing far further than their reach should allow. I learned that lesson the hard way, taking a nasty cut across the arm.
A quarter of the way up the tree, the battle has become insanity. Dragonfire pours from my hands, washing over the monster as it screams incoherently. More beams of flashing light erupt from it, and I realize that it is firing the magic missiles from its mouth whenever its vision is obscured by flames. One of the beams splashes down into the buildings far below, and I stop blinding it with fire.
It doesn’t seem to matter how much dragonfire I use or what kind. I might manage to scald the demon a bit, burn away a thin layer of its skin, but it managed to heal itself in just a few seconds. The tan dragonfire might be able to do something, but a quick internal inspection shows that my soul is more than ten minutes away from aligning in the proper way to allow me to summon it once again.
We are at a stalemate. Several times I have tried to hammer it with more black sand spears after recovering my initial spear from the ground. Every attempt has ended the same, with the weapons bouncing away, less impactful than if I just punched the demon. A tentacle stretches away from its lower body, slapping forward and curling around the bend of the tree trunk. The nest of appendages ripples oddly as it drags itself further up the tree.
I dodge back, nimbly avoiding the blasts of white hot energy, dancing out of range of its swiping claws. The emerald flames covering the monster’s face begin to die and dim, evaporating into the air to leave a striped skull behind to stare out at me. Sickeningly quick, flesh sprouts from the gory eye sockets, forming eyeballs as skin begins to grow across the bone and mutilated muscle like moss. This thing is a horror to face.
Drifting away, I exit the range of the demon’s swiping talons. My feet touch down on the golden platform of my vessel. Jor’Mari stands next to me, staring at the monster in front of us as it continues to drag itself up the side of the tree. The sword I gave to him buzzes against the floor of the ship, rattling as he holds onto it.
“I don’t think I have a way to hurt it,” I tell him. “Not permanently.”
“It’s pretty big,” he gruffs. His dark-rimmed eyes stare out, but he holds himself straight despite the strain. “Maybe I can do something.”
“Maybe,” I agree, commanding the ship to rise higher. I was surprised to find that I could still control the ship through the enchantment of my eye even without Galea directly assisting. Maybe she still is, but she just can’t tell me about it.
The golden platform rises into the sky far quicker than the monster can compete with. It still scrambles up the side of the trunk, its tentacles dragging it ever closer to the cacophony overhead. We are almost halfway up there now. I don’t want to know what is up there.
“This is high enough,” Jor’Mari says, walking toward the edge of the platform to stare down at the rising monster. He tests the sword in his hand with a few chops at the air before grunting in a satisfied manner. “This might be a little reckless,” he says.
“I think we have passed that point already,” I yell to him over the whipping wind.
He nods back at me. Then, without another word, he steps out into open air. I peer down, watching him plummet toward the demon still clinging to the side of the tree. The thing sees him at the last moment, a blur of motion moving across the gray bark of the towering tree. It swings forward with its hands, invisible blades at the ends of its fingers cutting apart the air. Jor’Mari can’t see as I do, can’t detect the faint flash of magic soaring through the air at him, which just goes to show how much time he has put into his swordsmanship.
He swings the blade forward, a horrible clanging sound bouncing through the air as the sparking sword meets with one of the invisible arcs of magic. The demon’s hand is thrown wide, leaving it entirely exposed, but Jor’Mari is in a poor position to capitalize on the opening. He tumbles away, sent spiraling by the collision, but as he sails away, Jor’Mari strikes out with the blade. The demon shrieks as the sword bites deep into one of its tentacles, nearly hewing the thing in half as it cuts through. Then, he is spinning away, falling faster and faster down the side of the tree trunk. His first attempt at stabbing the sword into the tree fails, the point of the blade bouncing off of the stone-like bark. On his second attempt, he manages to cut into the tree, the sword tearing a line down the side of the trunk as he slowly grinds to a halt.
The demon swipes out at me in anger as I take my ship far around it to retrieve the man below. Precious time is wasted as he yanks on the sword to dislodge it from the trunk of the tree.
Once back on the platform of the ship, he looks at me. “Pretty dangerous,” he says, “but at least I cut it.”
“Did you?” I ask, pointing up to the demon as it continues to scale the tree trunk. The gash in its rubbery tentacle is gone, resealed in mere moments.
“I almost had it, but the sword stopped cutting when it hit the bone,” he says.
“The demon has bones in its tentacles?”
“Apparently.” We both watch the monster as I command the ship to begin climbing once more. “Maybe if I could hit it head-on, I might be able to get through,” he says.
“I can try to distract it,” I try.
“That would be dangerous.”
“I think we are past that point already.”
I take the ship higher, positioning it above the climbing demon once again. This time, I push out with my aura, washing the monstrosity below us with the gold-red magic. I focus, pouring all of my will into pressing down on the creature. Its climb slows, a low moan escaping its throat as the demon falls forward, its claws sinking into the bark of the tree. The arms of the monster strain as it holds itself up, but it doesn’t slip from the tree.
Jor’Mari leaps from the platform once more, streaking down toward the demon as it screams at him. It sees him far sooner this time. For the first time, I watch as its mouth unhinges, opening impossibly wide while its neck begins to swell like a toad’s. A white light gathers between its teeth, firing forward a moment later. The demon misses, and not by a little bit. Jor’Mari doesn’t need to adjust as he plummets toward the monster. He stays rigid, like a falling toy soldier, only moving at the last possible second.
The sword arcs down, whipping so fast that I can hardly follow it. The monster screams once again as the blade cuts into its flesh, but this time the scream is punctuated by a metallic sound like a gong striking. Lighting sparks as the sword collides with the bones inside the monster’s tentacle, the eruption of unpredictable magic throwing Jor wildly to the side. He manages better than the first attempt, stabbing his weapon into the side of the tree to arrest his fall.
“Almost,” he grunts through gritted teeth after I retrieve him. “Maybe if I can just hit it between the joints.”
I look back at the monster, already pushing the ship to take us back above it once more. The explosions of magic overhead are closer now, each blast ripping through the air with power enough to throw the wind around. As we ascend, I become very aware of just how much more powerful the bursts of magic are than anything I can produce.
“We don’t have time to try that,” I complain at him. The demon is already moving again, dragging its body up the side of the tree with its claws. There is a panic in its eyes. I look back at Jor’Mari. “Retract your presence.”
He doesn’t argue, the wispy white light fading around him, flowing back into his skin. Grains of black sand flow away from me, pouring into the blade of the sword, burrowing deep. Experimenting at my enchantment table has made me aware that I can pour the sand into a magical item. The sensation of the magic bound in the item and the mixing of the black grains of sand is strange, like a current running under my skin, itching. The complex taste that fills my mouth is of mixed mana, a chaotic mixture of perhaps dozens of flavors. It doesn’t matter, as one of the kinds I have recently imprinted on my soul.
The dark edge of the sword in Jor’Mari’s hands begins to glow with a steely light as I pour as much sword mana into the weapon as I can. It takes all of my magic as I pour it out into the blade, far more than the grains I have infused should be able to hold. The weapon is insatiable for the magic, and I have plenty to give.
There is no change to the weapon other than the glow intensifying on the blade, growing until the weapon shines a pale blue beneath the crimson light. Yet, I can taste the change, the chaotic mixture of mana running through the weapon growing more subdue, the mess turned into something tame with distinct flavoring.
Jor’Mari and I share a look, and he knows what to do before I can even say. This time, when he steps off of the ship, plummeting toward the wailing demon below us, the blade cuts through its flesh like shears through wool. The moaning of the demon grows louder as the first tentacle is severed, the length of rubbery flesh peeling off the bark of the tree and crashing to the stones below. It strains, crawling forward like someone clinging to a lifeboat, pulling itself up the side of the tree.
It ignores us as I retrieve Jor’Mari for the next attack. We continue our attack, dropping him on the monster from above. His attacks grow more rapid, cutting bleeding gashes along its body as he falls from above like a swooping eagle, but, even with how easily the sword hews the flesh, it heals from anything short of severing a limb. Over the next minutes, all of my focus turns toward piloting the ship, trying to find every way that I can to save time between trips. Jor’Mari is a bruised mess, even with his healing being boosted.
At last, the final drop comes. As the demon crawls over the lip of the tree, scratching its way onto the flat boughs at the height of the tree, it makes a final mistake. Dragging itself over the lip, it lies flat against the wood, long stains of blood running down the side of the tree to mark its passage. Only two of the original tentacles remain, and four of its fingers have been severed in the repeated dive. It stares ahead, and I notice for the first time that the thing is breathing, panting. A clawed hand reaches forward, dragging itself across the tree, its fingers shaking. Jor’Mari lands.
I can hear it in the quiet of the night, the sound of his sword cutting down through the air, a clean chop like splitting lumber. It is so quiet, just a crack of bone as the infused sword cuts right through its neck. The demon doesn’t gasp, doesn’t release a final shriek. It coughs, the sound not wet, no blood spilling from its lips in the final moments, just a dry and harsh cough. Its head rolls away, lolling backward on the bark, its face turning to stare up at me with blank, dead eyes. Then, I fall on it.
With all the force I can muster flying downward, I copy Jor’s diving runs, crashing down onto the severed head with all the might I can muster. My bones creak, and I bite down in the last moment so hard I crack a tooth. The instant of pain fails to drive me unconscious; I wonder if there is enough pain left in this world to do that anymore. My hand, infused with my black sand, glows gray with the infused power of sword mana. The orb in the demon’s head shatters beneath the blow, exploding into light.
The ball of strange metal, the malicious object, turns out to be a hollow construction. A strange fluid scatters into the air as it shatters. The liquid is clear to my normal eyes, but to my dragon’s eye, it sparkles with a myriad of colors, the confluence of mana contained within the most complex series I have ever seen. I only see the liquid for a moment as it evaporates as soon as it leaves the confines of the ball. There is a feeling like a bubble popping in my ear after swimming for a long time. It is as if there is sudden clarity, a weight lifting off my shoulders that I didn’t know I was carrying. It might just be my imagination, but I feel all of Danfalla grow quiet for a moment as the magic fades. The madness is broken; I know it somehow. We did it.
Sound returns as something heavy crashes to the flat part of the tree trunk next to me, bouncing once before thudding against a twisted section of bark. The quiet turns eerie as I turn my head, looking at the nearly dead form of Maladasica Jane, the commander of the 2nd army. She lies crumpled against the bark, one arm clearly broken, one of her boots twisted and turned the wrong way. Wasn’t there supposed to be explosions of magic here at the top? Why was it so quiet? Then, I hear it, the creak of a branch less than a dozen feet behind me.
