Demoness 2 - Chapter 85 - Righteous Trash Disposal (Patreon)

The senior monks acted first, their hands moving rapidly in some type of sutra.

Silent sutras.

It was nice that she didn’t have to listen to their stupid chanting that had started to grate on her nervous way before the major conflict in the city had ever started.

The golden bells flew at her in a wave, their converging forms melting into each other to form a solid wall of divine energy.

She raised her empty hand and clenched it into a fist.

The arc of gold froze, snapped, and then fell to the ground in tiny disintegrating shards.

Anton led the charge of paladins next. Their armor gleamed brilliantly in the chaotic flicker of the damaged light stones hanging in the air. The charge was done in complete silence, her edict of silence unbroken.

Elania tossed Eziel into the air and then swiped her hand at them. Eziel flashed, making a horizontal strike through their ranks.

The first two paladins were sliced cleanly in half, their bodies falling to the ground in a spray of blood.

A few threw themselves to the ground, while others raised their weapons and shields to block the attack. The force of the impact slammed those that were struck into each other before sending them flying out into the city chasm like leaves in the wind.

The Arch Paladin was the only one remaining standing. A dozen others did their best to pick themselves off the ground. They glanced around, finding two-thirds of their number missing.

They didn’t back down, but then she didn’t expect that anything would break the paladin’s morale. She had firsthand experience of just how far they would go.

Elania raised her hand, and Eziel flew back to her. She caught the hilt effortlessly, her golden eyes never leaving Anton’s face.

The Arch Paladin’s expression was twisted with rage and frustration. His mouth moved silently as he tried to speak again. Elania’s smile turned cruel.

Eziel wasn’t the only weapon she had. She reached up and unslung Yolani’s artifice rifle off her back. She held it out, and it floated into the air. From her pack, all her magazines floated out to the weapon as well.

One of them clicked into place, and then the weapon swiveled on its own toward the nearest paladin. It opened fire, breaking the sudden lull and sending the paladins diving for cover behind hastily erected shields provided by the monks.

The bullets ricocheted off the shimmering wall of divine energy, sparks flying as the projectiles were deflected harmlessly away.

Elder Holt flashed out of existence, his form blurring and disappearing from view. He reappeared beside Elania, his hand outstretched to strike her down.

But Elania was faster.

She reached out and grabbed him by the throat without looking away from Anton, her fingers closing around the Elder’s neck like a vise. Elder Holt’s eyes bulged in surprise, his mouth opening in a silent gasp as he struggled against her grip.

Time seemed to slow down around them, the chaos of the battle fading into the background as Elania had an epiphany.

Magic was the power to create change, working against the rules of reality. It was the ability to bend and shape the world around them, to make the impossible possible.

But Divinity... was something else entirely.

Divinity was the power to rewrite the rules of reality itself. It was the ability to alter the very fabric of existence, to change the fundamental laws that governed Eladu.

The Celestial Engines maintained the rules of reality, and lesser uses of Divinity only overwrote them temporarily.

The workings of Elder Holt’s abilities became clear to her.

He was using magic to guide the changes he desired—his illusions—and then utilizing his stolen Divinity to make them real. His substitution power was no different.

A flurry of thoughts raced through Elania’s mind as she held the struggling Elder in her grasp.

Divinity, she realized, could be stolen, just as the monks had done from the seraph, but it could also be granted.

Mortals could receive divinity from their god, a seraph, or even a machine. Clerics and priests could wield their power without resorting to theft.

She wasn’t sure how she knew this. Was it the engine—the concept seed that Eziel had mentioned—speaking to her?

The knowledge felt true, resonating deep within her being, even as she grappled with the implications of her newfound understanding.

Elania’s gaze drifted over her shoulder, taking in the intricate web of connections that stretched out behind her.

The threads were clear to her now, each one representing a bond she had formed during her time in this world. Henri, Gaston, Harlock—their names stood out among the dozens of tiny filaments that connected her to the people she had encountered in passing.

But amidst the tapestry of relationships, one thread shone brighter than all the rest.

It was the connection she shared with Yolani; a bond that blazed with an intensity unmatched by any other.

The sight of it brought a smile to Elania’s lips, a warmth spreading through her chest as she contemplated the depth of their relationship.

If [Divinity] could be granted, there was only one person she trusted above all others.

Her focus narrowed on the golden thread that tied her to Yolani, and as she concentrated, it began to change.

The delicate filament thickened and expanded, transforming into a sturdy pipe that would reshape itself to accommodate Yolani’s needs, whatever they might be.

No matter what challenges lay ahead, Yolani would always have access to the divine power that flowed through her. It was a gift that Elania gave freely, a promise to stand by her side and support her in all things.

Elania’s attention snapped back to the battle as Elder Holt kicked at her.

Her rifle continued to fire, magazines floating in the air beside it, swiveling like a turret.

Eziel hovered around her protectively, while the Paladins and Monks were pushed back, their expressions a mix of shock and uncertainty.

With a decisive motion, Elania crushed Elder Holt’s throat with her hand and tossed him to the ground.

As his body began to dissolve, she realized his body substitution trick was activating.

Taking a deep breath, Elania spoke, her voice resonating with divine authority. “No. You have no right.”

A crack rippled through the air, divinity sparks tearing the fabric of reality.

Elder Holt’s body remained solid, his attempt to escape denied.

Without hesitation, she stomped on his skull, the sickening crunch echoing across the stone.

A loud echo reverberated throughout the city, and Elania knew immediately what it was.

The seraph had been released with the death of the last Elder.

She watched as the monks fell over, their divinity ripped from their bodies, leaving them on the brink of death.

Anton charged towards her, his face contorted with rage and determination.

She remained still, her eyes fixed on the approaching Paladin. Eziel floated into her hand, the ethereal blade humming with power.

As Anton swung his sword, Elania moved. Eziel sliced through the air, cleaving through his sword and chopping him in half. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The other Paladins rushed forward, but Elania’s rifle was already in motion.

The weapon fired relentlessly, high-velocity lead balls punching through their armor without mercy. The weapon’s aim was laser-like, each shot finding its mark with deadly precision.

The battlefield fell silent as the last Paladin fell, their bodies littering the ground.

It was done. Over.

A weight that had been plaguing her suddenly lifted.

Now the actual fight would start.

Elania spread her wings and floated back into the air, taking flight over the chasm that separated her from the Conclave Fortress.

The wall of the cavern began to crumble.

The Seraph burst forth from the stone, sending chunks of rock the size of city blocks flying into the city.

Elania’s eyes widened as she took in the Seraph's size.

He was every bit as colossal as she remembered, resembling Eziel during her vision in the Celestial Engine. The Seraph’s wings, now physical and tangible, created whirlwinds with each powerful beat.

“Well, he’s free,” Elania remarked, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension. “But I don’t think he is happy.”

[Tabbris, once the embodiment of justice, has been reduced to a maddened beast. He must be put down, for the sake of all.]

Elania glanced at the Seraph again, taking in his immense form. “He looks a bit big for that,” she commented, a hint of concern in her voice.

[This is my battle, Godling. Step back and watch.]

***

Note: This is the last of me writing for the day, so if you were staying up for these, you can rest now! ^^