-oOo-

  Chapter 55

  -oOo-

  Baron Naopte lurched. The vampire wobbled then retched, a spattering of blood and worms spraying onto the floor. Thin, pale, wiggling worms squirmed in a putrid stew. Gritting his teeth, Dmitry stood. But the worms he vomited up were only a small portion of the writhing mass. More slithered through his guts, feasting upon his flesh. A few breached his skin, emerging like white threads before diving back in.

  The lord stumbled. His ki flared as Baron Naopte struggled to suppress Sylvia’s curse.

  The hobgoblin didn’t have the same luck.

  “Aa~aa!” Taranis’s scream was blood-curdling. The small man was already on the ground, clutching his chest. Hundreds of writhing phantasms ripped through his tissues. The goblin’s right eye was a rotting mass. Blood poured between his fingers, his entrails tumbling out.

  Sylvia’s situation wasn’t much better.

  The witch reeled. Her mind was scrambled. Thought and emotion wheeled, a rolling mush. Wrenching disgust was interleaved with simpering adoration. Above this fractured mind loomed a coldhearted machine. Sylvia’s digitized soul reached into her perverted psyche, spectral fingers gripping her organic brain.

  The fist of cognition tightened. The baron’s threads were pulled taut. Then the imaginary hand twisted.

  Her whole world heaved.

  Consciousness shattered like a glass, the universe splintering into erratic colors. Dizzily, Sylvia swayed. The room spun around her. She was empty. Numb. Broken.

  Then the shards gathered. Clarity descended.

  Sharp, pink eyes swept the room. Baron Naopte was leaning against a shelf. The regal vampire vomited again. This time, a swollen ball of wiggling worms was hacked up out of his throat. The mass spilled atop an elegant, red rug. Without the essence to support them, the pale phantasms evaporated into ether.

  Face twisted by rage, Dmitry staggered forward. The baron’s pitted skin was quickly filling in.

  Sylvia started her chant. “■~ – ”

  Her hand flickered even as the words fell from her lips. Lightning crackled. Bang! A jagged bolt stretched from Sylvia’s fingers, aimed unerringly at the vampire’s heart.

  Dmitry’s reaction was instant.

  Blood pooled in front of the vampire. A crimson shield deflected her scintillating bolt. Electricity shattered into sparks. The jagged lines shot across the study, turning shelves and books into an explosion of wood and paper.

  Without missing a beat, the baron lunged.

  Lord Naopte was a blur. His arm swung, hand haloed by a monstrous claw of blood. Sylvia sidestepped, a whirl of pale petals around her feet. Too slow. Even as she opened the gap, Dmitry closed in. Terrible fingers fell upon her.

  But her motion had bought a fraction of a second.

  And that was all it took.

  Sylvia’s hand flickered into another seal. Water ether spilled from her elemental palace.

  Plash!

  The baron’s crimson claw smashed into Sylvia’s water shield. The barrier exploded on impact. The spray only started to spread when it suddenly reversed. Scattered, clear liquid transformed into a torrent. The shocking reversal threw Lord Naopte stumbling back. But only for a handful of steps. Then Dmitry planted his feet and rolled out of the flow.

  “ – ■~■ – ”

  The baron’s eyes flashed with eerie light. Psychic energy smashed into Sylvia’s mind like a battering ram. Crystalline heart cracked, the outer layer like evanescing powder. The asteri staggered, her vision filled with spots. In a different circumstance, Sylvia might’ve lost her chant right then and there.

  But, with her digitized soul flush with psychic ether, a portion of her mind remained as clear as crystal.

  “ – ■~ – ”

  Baron Naopte struck. The vampire’s finger cut through the air. A giant blade of blood formed, slashing toward the asteri. Sylvia’s hand flicked as she dodged. A seal, then an open palm. Dispersed water was yanked back then recycled, mixed with wind ether drawn from her palace to form ice.

  Chink!

  The crimson sword cut deep into Sylvia’s glacial scale, hewing a thick line through the frost before coming to a dead stop. The red liquid lost its integrity. Blood splattered, the scattered droplets continuing on their path. Pungent red sprayed across Sylvia’s clothes and face. The cursed liquid sank into her flesh, bringing with it searing heat.

  Agony spread through her veins. The witch could feel her blood boil, a fire reaping life as it filled her head with madness.

  “ – ■~■!”

  Her spell finished. Runes were woven in a flash. Pure mana, catalyzed into realm, wrapped the asteri.

  Pop!

  Then she was gone.

  Sylvia stumbled. Stone floor was replaced by a field of scraggy grass. The blood inside of her body was burning. The silver-haired witch gritted her teeth. With her ki, she forcefully suppressed the pain and madness.

  Slowly, the inner fire dimmed. Sylvia opened her eyes to the courtyard.

  Hazy, gray light fell upon the witch. A few maids rushed through the open space in panic. Not far from her were two abominations. One lay still, its chest torn open as though some alien creature had burst out. Thin, pale worms wiggled in the mush.

  The other stumbled about, roaring in rage as its long claws tore at its chest. The bulbous, blood-filled boils on its skin shrank. As they withered, the phantasm’s flesh filled in. A few, stray worms squirmed, the only thing left of the curse that had ravaged the creature’s insides.

  Sylvia gathered herself. There was a deep ache and weariness in her body. A fifth of her life had been cut away by Baron Naopte’s magic.

  The asteri shed her disguise.

  A beautiful dress blossomed on Sylvia’s body, a fog of ether swirling around to hide her transformation. A craggy brown staff took form in Sylvia’s right hand. The asteri allowed both items a few seconds to solidify before adjusting her cute, pink witch’s hat.

  No rest for the wicked.

  And she was most definitely a wicked witch.

  Lips quirked, Sylvia recast crystalline heart. “■■ ■■■■■■■.”

  Boom!

  A rolling blaze of fire roared atop a far roof, washing the building in hues of orange and red. A dark-skinned prisma raced overhead, a second meteor smashing into the same target. Boom! The bow of a broken ballista was tossed into the sky, its length tumbling end over end.

  “Nice shot,” Sylvia cheered.

  “Graaauuu!”

  The abomination was not so enthused. With a long-fingered claw, the eight-meter beast ripped a bulbous boil from its torso. With two lumbering steps, the raging titan cast the pustule in Belkis’s direction. The blob ripped through the air before exploding into a cloud of corrupted mist.

  Pastel pink eyes turned sharp. Belkis had already flashed past, safe and sound. But Sylvia wasn’t going to allow this beast to pick on her big… err, little, sister.

  The silver-haired witch raised her staff, lightning crackling.

  Unaware, the turret of flesh turned. The abomination’s right claw wrapped around a second boil.

  “■■■■.”

  Bang!

  A jagged lance split the courtyard, lightning searing a darkened rent through the abomination’s chest. The titan stumbled, its stump of a head turning in her direction. Two eyes, tiny compared to the phantasm’s size, glinted with orange fury.

  Sylvia returned a look of disdain.

  The beast charged. The witch dashed to the right, ascending a shallow slope of petals. Her left hand flickered, conjuring an invisible frame around her. Electric sparks wreathed White Heaven. “■~■ – ”

  Thud. Thud. Th – BOOM!

  With long steps, the titan picked up speed. Only for a second giant creature to crash down in front of it.

  A huge, humanoid beast stood between Sylvia and the abomination. The latest giant was carved from glacial ice then covered in a fur of compacted snow. The frozen beast rose, its back facing the witch. By scale, this wintery being was two meters shorter than the titan in front of it. But the weight it cast over the world utterly dwarfed the charging blood beast.

  Egushawa Taubert. Sylvia recognized the flavor of his ki.

  The frost giant lunged.

  Ki exploded beneath its feet. Earth shattered, spraying dust and pebbles. The abomination was a lumbering titan picking up steam. Egushawa was a freight train screaming down the track. The frost giant’s shoulder crashed into the titan’s chest, sending the abomination careening into the building beyond.

  Wooden walls crumbled under its weight.

  Merciless, Egushawa raised his right foot. Crunch. Then he slammed it down on the titan’s chest. Spindles of white spread through the abomination’s pustular skin. Bulbous boils of blood throbbed, quickening as though they might burst.

  The ice beast breathed.

  Cool, white, glacial mist washed over Egushawa’s feet. A freezing fog filled the air, tiny crystals of frost shimmering in the hazy sunlight. The chill spread, filling the halls of the villa. A pile of shrieking ghouls rushed into it, seeking the giant’s demise. Bitter cold dug into their phantasmal flesh. The ghouls froze, the titanic abomination with them. A handful of the titan’s boils burst first, spewing jets of vile blood.

  Only to turn into ice.

  Cold, crimson flowers blossomed over the titan’s grave. Only a few putrid speckles stained the snow that made Egushawa’s pure white fur.

  Sylvia turned. Dozens of ghouls were flooding the courtyard.

  “Useless,” she said. Wind ether poured from her staff. “■■■.”

  Seventy-four runes were drawn into a coiled circle. A screaming buzzsaw of air was born. The wind scythe tore through three phantasmal beasts before spiraling to her right to claim two more. Sylvia let her magic work, casually climbing higher with the waltz of flowers.

  Flight was an incredible trump card over those without it.

  Egushawa stepped away from the crater left by the frozen titan’s corpse. Sylvia caught the wendigo’s face, carved like a sculpture into the ice. Contemptuous, Egushawa kicked a ghoul that had drawn too close, sending it flying across the courtyard to bounce off a distant roof. A clawed hand swayed low as he walked, plucking a frozen ghoul from the ground.

  Egushawa bit it in half. Crunch. Crunch. Sylvia felt, as much as heard, the demon’s glacial teeth smash through his ghoul-sicle treat.

  …

  When she wrote that post, it’d been a joke! Also – shk, shk – that was the sound of her camera snapping photos. She was going to have so much fun with SecretProtagonist later.

  “Where’s Lady Taubert?” Sylvia asked, drawing closer.

  Below, her scythe continued its merry slaughter. As the magic dimmed, the witch waved her staff, adding a second to the fray. A few ghouls made it through the gauntlet. Annoyed, the frost giant raised its foot and stomped twice, crushing them into pancakes.

  Then he tossed the other half of his ghoul-sicle down his throat.

  “Plotting in the dark,” Egushawa rumbled with his mouth full. “Women. Men face their enemies up front. DMITRY NAOPTE, COME OUT HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!”

  The air shook with the wendigo’s shout.

  Silence. The onslaught of ghouls had stopped. Sylvia felt a shift in the chaos. A pressure. A sovereignty exuded over the principles of the world.

  Apple crumb cake.

  The hobgoblin was alive.

  Her eyes sharp, she observed the world around her. Not by using the System’s magic, but by making use of her pure starlight eyes. Sight was rendered into data. Data filtered through her soul. Information pinged off her local System client, fed into the System’s APIs. Spiritual transistors calculated, extracting an answer.

  Ding.

  Sylvia didn’t hear the bell. She felt it. There were no blue screens. Instead, she directly comprehended the contents as though she’d written the text herself.

  A line of blood shot into the sky, rising from the glass dome of the study. Red mist gathered into liquid, taking on the shape of Dmitry Naopte. The baron had swapped his casual clothes for his armor. An engraved, steel cuirass guarded the man’s chest while an elegant, black cape billowed behind him. In the lord’s hand was a partisan. The polearm’s long, leaf-shaped blade extended half-a-meter above the vampire’s head.

  “Murder. Trespass. Destruction of property,” the baron spoke. “I will have you imprisoned for a hundred years for this!”

  The frost giant laughed. Sylvia glared, watchful of any psychic infiltration.

  “Cowardly sissy, if you want a woman just say it!” Egushawa shouted, thrusting out an accusing hand. “The only words you need to speak are: ‘do you want to fuck?’ If she says no, find another. Only a useless fop takes women by force!”

  ...

  What in the honeybun was wrong with Yvonne that she married this man? Sylvia winced at Egushawa’s shameless crudity even as she heartily agreed with him.

  “A dog would have better manners,” Baron Naopte spat. His crimson eyes veered briefly in the direction of the silver-haired witch. “Taranis, help me with these interlopers.”

  The villa rumbled.

  Buildings began to shift, rooms rolling and reassembling. They stacked on top of each other, forming a tightening arena. Baron Naopte moved, flashing through the air in a flickering illusion. His partisan whipped out. The polearm stretched, the rod detaching into three linked parts.

  Shrouding the tip was a claymore of blood.

  Rather than dodge, Egushawa leaned in, taking the blow on a glacial shoulder. Thick ki absorbed a portion of the impact. The partisan’s blade barely slowed, slicing deep into the thick ice. Lord Naopte snapped his polearm back, force traveling down the chain to the tip.

  But not fast enough.

  The giant lunged, seizing the weapon with a frosty claw. The spear stopped cold, ice spreading along the liquid length. Then the wendigo pulled.

  Dmitry was yanked from the sky. Rather than resist, the vampire yielded to the motion, crimson eyes like fire. Psychic energy pulsed. Egushawa staggered. Baron Naopte jerked his weapon. The chilled chain shattered before being forged anew. The blood blade was ripped from the giant’s hand, severing two fingers. The blade rose high before suddenly sweeping down in a colossal slash.

  Bang!

  Lightning streaked down from above, a jagged javelin of searing light.

  Baron Naopte twisted, conjuring a screen of blood. The lightning lance tore into the crimson, searing the liquid black. Splintered bolts rolled around the vampire. Belkis wheeled on her broom, a ball of fire flying from her staff, Blazing Storm. Dmitry flashed to the left, a meteor blast roaring through his shadow. The fire ball crashed into a distant door, blasting a pair of ghouls into cinder.

  Then the prisma was gone, her distant form slewing across the horizon.

  Sylvia wasn’t still either.

  “■■■, ■■■!”

  Streams of wind roared from her staff and palace. Two scythes were born, one after the other. The buzzsaws screamed along opposing paths. The baron’s spear spun, rod and blade drawn short. The polearm whipped around, smashing the first scythe aside.

  The second, Dmitry dodged. The vampire’s flickering steps carried him along the inner curve of the scythe’s motion.

  “■■ ■■!”

  Sylvia was far from finished.

  Runes melded into the ether the asteri had ripped from the earth. The curse wrapped around the vampire, emblazoning itself on flesh. Chains of earth took effect. The plane’s gravity doubled. Baron Naopte was suddenly dragged down. The lord resisted, his strength too great to be stopped by a simple curse.

  He was, however, slowed.

  Which left him wide open. Egushawa soared. The wendigo stepped off air, sky freezing beneath his giant feet. A massive, frigid claw crashed down. Entangled, Dmitry saw it at the last second. Too late to dodge, the vampire mustered a desperate parry.

  The frost giant slapped right through it.

  Baron Naopte was like a fly meeting a windshield. The vampire was smashed down with incredible force. Hand eclipsing Dmitry’s form, Egushawa clenched his fist.

  Blood sprayed through the crevices, transforming into mist.

  The frost giant snorted. Then he breathed. A fog of glacial cold spread through the air. Baron Naopte coalesced in a hurry. The lord retreated, his body drawn low by Sylvia’s curse. Ice clung to the vampire’s flesh as though he were burned meat recently taken from the freezer.

  Two scythes boomeranged in on the baron. As Sylvia’s magic whirled, the hobgoblin’s sovereignty grasped the rules of the world, twisting them in his favor.

  Sylvia felt a lurch as the domain took effect. The petals beneath her feet no longer carried her weight. Belkis flashed above. The prisma’s flight had transformed into a careening tumble beyond the villa’s walls.

  Undeterred, Egushawa charged, racing after the vampire. Dmitry continued his low flight, hurried motions repelling one of Sylvia’s scythes. Though the vampire was fast, the giant’s stride was three times longer. The slight pause to parry was more than enough to close the distance.

  A frozen claw tore through the air a second time.

  The villa rolled. The turning rooms exposed a ballista, string already pulled back. Sh-Shoof! Two bolts flew from the bow, crashing into Egushawa’s face and chest. B-boom! The javelins exploded, tearing great watery hunks from the frost.

  Egushawa reeled, massive divots carved into his icy form. With an angry glare, the wendigo transformed his stumble into a stomp. A pillar of ice burst from underneath the ballista, shattering it into wooden fragments.

  Dmitry used the distraction to escape indoors. Glowering, Egushawa rushed forward. Rearing back a fist, the wendigo punched straight through the villa’s wall. Then the frost giant shoved a second claw into the gap and tore it wider.

  His shell’s frozen exterior was already filling with new ice.

  Sylvia had her own problems.

  A dozen ghouls rushed the asteri. Previously, the grounded creatures were no more than targets of opportunity. Now that Sylvia had been forced to the earth, they were a serious threat.

  Expression tight, the silver-haired girl chanted.

  “■~ ■~ – ”

  Fire sparked at the tip of Sylvia’s staff, the spell guzzling ether taken from her elemental palace. Boom! A meteor exploded amidst a group of ghouls. The phantasms were blasted into cinder, limbs and smoking meat rolling through the air above.

  Even as the asteri summoned fire, water swirled around her. The energy gave life to the ninety-three runes released through her lips. “ – ■■!”

  A bubble of water ballooned around the witch, securing her defense. Sylvia pulled her aqua shell tight, petals scattering around her feet as she beat a quick retreat. Buzzing saws of screaming wind swept by her in smooth curves. The ghoul closest was cut in half at the waist. Two more were divided by swift air. A fourth had its head and its right arm sliced off.

  Then they were on her.

  “■■~ – ”

  Screeching, a ghoul lunged, claws at the fore. Ki pulsed, releasing a puff of petals as Sylvia stepped in. Life force coiled inside her body, a spring tightening in her chest. She thrust. Aura shot down her arm and through her staff, stretching a good meter past the weapon’s tip. The impact blew the phantasm back. Sylvia twirled, her skirt rising in a beautiful flower. Her forward motion translated into a sidestep and a spin. White Heaven traced her whirling motion.

  The staff’s crystal orb crashed into the ghoul’s skull.

  Mana pulsed. Her attack became a gesture, tail whip and wind blade combining into a single action. The phantasm’s head exploded in a shower of bone and blood.

  A claw tore at her barrier of water. Psychic energy was shed with the creature’s strike, echoing through her mind. Sylvia’s spirit was too dense, shedding the attack without a flinch. The witch finished her pivot, her rush reversing into a backward skip then a short skate along a bed of pale petals.

  Her remaining foes had been drawn into a perfect line.

  “ – ■■!”

  Lightning flashed, skewering a pair of ghouls on a brilliant blue spit.

  Taranis wasn’t content to watch. A dark shadow loomed overhead. Sylvia’s eyes shot up to see an eight-by-five meter room falling down right on top of her.

  Donuts.

  “■■.”

  Pure mana was natured into void. With fifty-eight runes, Sylvia dissolved into illusion. The building hammered down, floor passing through her spectral form. The shock made her organs lurch. The silver-haired witch was driven to her knees, pain radiating from every part of her body.

  Then she stood.

  Sylvia was in the room where she’d faced Evelina. Except there was one major difference. Ground and ceiling had been reversed.

  The floor jerked beneath her. Taranis was drawing her deeper into the villa’s gullet.

  Sylvia watched the walls warily. Against expectation, they didn’t come crashing down on her like a hammer.

  “He can’t?” she questioned, relaxing.

  Eyes holding a fractal universe grew sharp. If that were the case….

  Observe Terrain. Track Target.

  The System spells pulsed. Causality bounced through the building, feeding information into her digitized soul. She could practically see the rooms shifting. They tumbled around one another. Here and there they would expand or shrink, but never by more than a quarter.

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  The goblin himself, however, remained nebulous.

  Taranis was using anti-divination, she realized. Sylvia loved those tools, and she hated them.

  “You know you can’t win,” Sylvia stated, addressing the wall of the house.

  Taranis’s sneering voice rose in answer. To Sylvia’s modern mind, it felt as though the goblin had replied using an intercom.

  “We made preparations in case the covens came poking,” the hobgoblin said. “I have to thank you. Without your actions, Lord Naopte might’ve clung to this path to the point of ruin. Now, he’ll have no choice but to change course.”

  The room shuffled. Sylvia could feel it shift within the villa. Then it fell, dumping her into the dungeon from whence she came. The echoes of causality faded. Observe Terrain was no longer in effect.

  “You, however,” Taranis continued. “How dare you kill me, witch. I’ll make sure you pay for it. I’ll keep you here for centuries. I’ll break you. I’ll make you beg for the most horrible depravities. Then, when I get bored, I’ll return your husk to your coven. That way, you’ll serve as an eternal symbol of what happens when women defy their betters.”

  “You’re dead then,” Sylvia observed blandly, picking out the important part.

  “So what if I’m dead?” the goblin spat. “Do you think death will save you? This house is my body. Here, I rule everything!”

  Chaos fluctuated. Sylvia felt the goblin’s domain contract around her. Chaos magic oozed into her skin, some of it following the path of the Law of Service.

  Sylvia let out an unladylike snort. “Your house is burning down around you and you still have the mind to play games.”

  She wondered, what was the source of the goblin’s arrogance? Dmitry didn’t stand a chance against Egushawa. Yvonne had yet to show her face. The villa’s core combat power had been gutted. Isabella, Belkis, Silas, Brianna, Elroy, and Gavin were all here.

  They’d even brought a rattle cobra.

  Yet, the hobgoblin was wasting mana trying to turn her into a maid.

  Perhaps this foolishness arose because Taranis was dead. If the hobgoblin was relying on a cognition jar, he’d suffer from reduced mental capacity. Brain fog could make smart people overlook important facts, more so distracted demons who were missing important bits of information.

  “Stupid woman,” Taranis scoffed. “Did you think Viscount Klad was unaware of our business? Your people have the upper hand now, but when Hanis arrives, they’ll tuck their tails and run. As for you. You’ll be here. By the time they come back, we’ll be long gone.”

  Boom.

  The villa shuddered, the muffled rumble reaching all the way down into the basement.

  “Why am I wasting my breath on a woman?” Taranis muttered. “I don’t have the time for this.”

  The flux of the goblin’s presence vanished.

  Sylvia pondered her situation. This makeshift prison didn’t worry her. When setting his laws, the hobgoblin had neglected realm magic. Likely because Taranis had been too busy dying when the asteri had last used it.

  Thus, she could teleport out.

  No. What Sylvia pondered was what to do with this opportunity. Everyone’s eyes were off her and Taranis was dead. That the hobgoblin was dead was important. Hobgoblins didn’t directly inhabit their house. It wasn’t a husk to be piloted like a titan body. To control the villa’s heart by remote, Taranis had to use magic.

  And magic required mana. Conscious dead souls were still dead souls. They didn’t have ki or mana, nor did they have the capacity for spirit speech.

  Which meant Taranis’s soul was connected to the villa’s heart directly. There had to be some sort of tool or item that served this purpose. And if Baron Naopte had set this all up so the goblin could act when dead, the most logical place to put the villa’s heart was in the resurrection pool.

  Resurrection pools were hard to hide.

  But she couldn’t find it here, in this prison. The walls were magic resistant. Observe Terrain wouldn’t pierce them.

  “Time to go then,” Sylvia said. “■■■ ■■■.”

  Void and space were catalyzed into realm by her true cosmic core. A string of one hundred and sixteen runes was woven into a complex knot. This glyph was Naaleise meaning: a great leap.

  Pop.

  Sylvia vanished. Realm skip was a spell of her own invention. The asteri had drawn inspiration from the innate code wielded by blink lizards. The phantasmal creatures had a rare teleportation ability that was highly efficient.

  The scene changed. Suddenly, she was in the training room where she’d faced Vadim. The vampire was long dead, his body rotted and dispersed. Her private booth was broken. Taranis must’ve noticed the spells, because the one she’d set up in Evelina’s room was likewise gone.

  Freed from the prison, Sylvia triggered her divination. Observe Terrain.

  Causality reverberated through the villa, revealing its shape and secrets. Sylvia leaned on her digitized soul, seeking information the System didn’t readily share. She was looking for ether channels and the stains left by amniotic essence. Ether channels were impossible to hide. The stains left by a pool’s evaporating water were also telltale. Sylvia knew how much effort had to be put in just to keep the leaks manageable.

  Finding the pool took all of five seconds. Sylvia reviewed the information to double confirm it. Now, it was time to see if she’d judged Dmitry right.

  “■■■ ■■■.”

  Another realm skip and Sylvia was standing in front of thick, metal doors. The room beyond was heavily warded. Not just against causality, but also against realm and fate. Protection like that wasn’t cheap.

  “But are you hiding the right precious thing or the wrong one?” Sylvia questioned. “Regardless, there will be guards inside of it.”

  The witch took a moment to filter ether, gathering a dense cloud of earth. Only when Sylvia had enough did her staff crackle with the element sky.

  “■■■ ■■■■■ ■~■~ – ”

  When the main incantation approached its end, the witch extended a hand. Then she squeezed her fist shut. Massive, stone teeth gripped the metal doors. Reee! Metal warped, slowly yielding to incredible force. For a moment, Sylvia thought the magic would fail. Then the iron ripped. C-c-clung. Fragments fell from the frame, ringing on the floor below.

  “How!?” Taranis’s voice suddenly screeched, awareness summoned by the vandalism. “Wai – ”

  Sylvia didn’t give the hobgoblin a chance. “ – ■■.”

  Brilliant blue light flooded the rounded room. Chain lightning curved, following the stone ledge surrounding the pool. The bolt pierced through several ghouls in a blink. A larger knight reacted, a shield of blood appearing between the phantasm and Sylvia’s magic.

  Only to be torn apart like paper.

  The backward force served its purpose. The band of lightning splintered into ragged strings. Briefly weakened, the jagged wires punched through the armored knight, missing its core. The phantasm staggered, molten holes drilled through its metal armor. A mere meter beyond, the fragmented magic regathered into a single strand, tracing the remaining path.

  Six ghouls collapsed. Only the elite remained standing, halberd in hand.

  Sylvia stepped through the door, wind ether pouring from her palace. “■■■.”

  Her scythe screamed as it shot into the small space. The ghoul knight summoned a second shield of blood, deflecting the magic up and to its left. The spell ricocheted, bouncing off stone walls, its path curving subtly according to Sylvia’s intent. T-t-thufft. The rippling blade sheared through the ghoul’s right leg. The phantasm crumbled.

  The scythe reflected off the floor, continuing its crazy cascade. Half a second later, it reaped the knight’s life.

  Sylvia’s gaze turned up. Her smile was broad and vicious.

  “Hello, Taranis.”

  Wooden channels ran along the walls of the rounded room, protrusions on an otherwise smooth surface. Set in the floor was a deep, circular pool filled with amniotic essence. Several souls glinted within. Above was suspended a titanic heart, veins and arteries blending seamlessly into the building surrounding.

  Th-thump. Th-thump.

  White Heaven fell like a headsman’s axe.

  -oOo-

  “Stand down!”

  A shout greeted Sylvia as she exited the twisted, labyrinthine mess that was now the villa. Across the way and through a window, Sylvia spotted Silas Wells. The shadow hunter melted out of the darkness before plunging his shrouded dagger through a ghoul’s heart.

  More apparent, was Isabella, who leaned lazily against one of the walls of the courtyard, a piece of grass hanging from her mouth. The tamed rattle cobra was coiled up beside her, its head rising well above Isabella’s horns. The snake’s hood was flared and its eyes watchful.

  Sylvia’s gaze turned up.

  Egushawa Taubert was still in titan form. Snow served as fur for the frost-clad giant. The wendigo’s icy eyes were fixed on a four-winged man. Viscount Khalid, Sylvia presumed. Lord Khalid was an akhekh. A bloodline that had become extremely rare after the Ancient Era.

  Though not as rare as the asteri.

  The viscount had a human face with a nose resembling a beak. From his head rose two long, thin, black horns like those of an oryx. The man’s brown hair was akin to the mane of a lion. A thick serpent’s tail extended from the devil’s back. The System marked him as C-VI/Low, a powerful lord at the bottom of the fourth consolidation.

  Across, a hexe floated on a broom. Yvonne Taubert had finally deigned to show her wrinkled face. Sylvia hoped Yvonne had a plan, because Sylvia was tapped out. Her mana pool was just a nudge over two hundred.

  “Heh, heh, heh,” Yvonne Taubert’s crackly laugh sounded. The woman’s brown eyes showed a vicious glint. “Are you sure you want to stick your nose into this affair, little lordling?”

  “Power had gone to your head, witch,” Viscount Khalid said in retort. “The covens do not rule over the lords. The lords rule over the covens. You have invaded my fief, unprovoked. And for this there will be consequences.”

  “Cowering behind words and pretense,” Egushawa scoffed. The wendigo gazed past the viscount, glaring at the vampire. Crunch. A ghoulish snack was crushed inside the giant’s frozen maw. Essence flowed through the demon, renewing worn strength. “When you commit a crime, do it proudly with a straight back. A real man looks justice in the eye and dares it to fight back.”

  …

  What kind of ridiculous morality was that?

  “Lord Khalid,” Dmitry spoke, ignoring the wendigo. “These trespassers are beyond reason. I implore you, deliver these cretins swift justice.”

  Baron Naopte had seen better days. His clothes and armor were shredded, the projected essence reduced to rags. The vampire’s right arm was a frozen stump that not even his regeneration could repair. His skin was rotting chips of ice, the frost melting in the sun to reveal mushy meat.

  The akhekh shot the vampire a furious look.

  Viscount Khalid’s position was unenviable. No doubt, the akhekh had been bribed to look the other way while Dmitry committed his crimes. Now the baron wanted to drag the viscount into the gutter with him.

  Worse, Egushawa and Yvonne were more than a minor noble could handle. The armies of a viscounty could only suppress foes of the third or fourth consolidation. Killing them was difficult. Capture was harder still. The whole affair was messy, militarily and politically.

  As for the viscount himself? It’d be a grave embarrassment if he were killed before his soldiers could arrive.

  “If you leave now, your deeds can be forgotten,” Lord Khalid ground out.

  “Pa!” Yvonne spat. “Foolish lordling, no one's deeds will be forgotten today. Capturing witches. Afflicting upon them foul depravity. Selling them as slaves. Heh. You misunderstand the covens if you think any of this can be ‘forgotten’. There will be a reckoning. The only question is whether you stand aside or be judged with them.”

  “Accusations are best made before the courts,” the akhekh said. “I’ve been plenty polite. Do not make me ask again.”

  Yvonne cackled. Her eyes showed a spark of vile cunning. “Then, Hanif, you insist on defending this filth?”

  “I insist on nothing more than the law,” Lord Khalid retorted. “And you will address me with respect, old hag, or I will hold your words against you.”

  “So be it,” Yvonne said. The crone’s smile was hideous. High Witch Taubert raised her staff, broom turning so she faced the sky behind her. “Sisters! I have shown you the crimes. You have witnessed the foul creatures that would lay their hands upon our daughters. You have heard their pathetic excuses. In the name of Lilith, Nephthys, and Jezibaba, I call upon you to bring judgment.”

  A hundred meters from the hexe, the air shimmered.

  Three cloaked figures emerged from the void. One wore an elegant cloak of green. Another, a simple cloth of dark gray. The last, a hood over a beautiful yellow dress. Magic, more than clothes, hid their faces.

  Invisibility. The good kind. The type that deceived even Sylvia’s pure starlight eyes. She wanted it. Give me. ~Give the spell to me~. Her crystal core cried out in sorrow.

  Lord Khalid’s expression turned grim. Dmitry glowered.

  This was a setup. Yvonne had been waiting for the viscount to arrive so she could screw him over. No wonder she’d stayed out of the fight.

  “Women,” Egushawa muttered. The ice beast melted, revealing the wendigo’s true form.

  The lady in yellow stepped forward. She lifted a white staff, the butt cracking off thin air in defiance to all logic.

  “Yvonne Taubert, we have heard your words,” the witch spoke, her voice prim and proper like those of a princess. “In accordance with the rules set forth by the Supreme Coven of the Nether, I convene this council. Let our decision be carried out by circles beneath us. And let our judgment ring clear in the hearts of all witches.”

  The witch in green stepped forward, her voice sonorous. “So we judge.”

  A second behind, came the old and worn voice of the woman in gray. “So we judge.”

  “Then render upon these men a verdict of guilt or innocence,” the witch in yellow commanded.

  “Wait! Do you witches understand the consequence of your actions?” Hanif Khalid interrupted. “I remind you that this fief stands beneath His Grace, Archduke Merihem.”

  Yvonne laughed as though she’d heard something funny. Three women stared down, their faces shadowed by hood and cloak.

  “To judge a lord in defiance of the law is an act of war,” Viscount Khalid continued. “I ask, can any of your covens face what is to come? Do you dare sacrifice your sisters for this farce?”

  “That is for us to choose,” the woman in yellow interrupted. Her soft, gentle voice was easily heard despite the distance. “Sisters, if you would please.”

  “I would please,” the woman in green spoke as she stepped forward.

  The witch pulled back her hood, revealing gray feathers blending into a waterfall of hair so dark it was like a sea of ink. Her face was as sharp as it was beautiful, the picture of a stern and loving mother.

  “I, Cielo Cedaro, Presiding Witch of the First Coven of Pyrkagiás, have witnessed the depravity committed here today,” the siren said, her voice reverberating to every corner of the villa. Her topaz eyes were like knives. “I find the parties guilty. Through my hand and that of my sisters, let judgment fall.”

  “Bitches,” Dmitry spat. “Women have no place judging good, noble men. Arrogance. This is pure arrogance. The greatest sin is that you cunts haven’t been put in your place.”

  Lord Khalid’s eyes shifted to the vampire, filled with displeasure.

  The woman in gray stepped forward. She pulled back her hood, revealing a wrinkled face. A large and very noticeable wart grew on the hexe’s nose.

  Muddy eyes gazed down on the viscount in disappointment.

  “Hanif, to think you’d turn a blind eye to this leech.”

  “Nadia Wielock,” Viscount Khalid said, dark eyes narrowed. “You are a member of this dukedom. I ask you to consider that.”

  “Petty threats won’t deter me, whelp.” Bang. The old witch hammered her staff into the sky as though it were a gavel. “I, Nadia Wielock, Presiding Witch of the Thirteen Cauldrons, find the parties guilty. Let every thread be plucked. And may all those who participated in this horror suffer a thousand times what they afflicted.”

  Sylvia could practically see the akhekh’s teeth grind. The asteri watched the proceedings with interest. As a young Academy-raised witch, Sylvia had never been immersed in the core of witch culture.

  Finally, the woman in yellow stepped forward, joining her companions in a firm line. The lady drew back her hood. Long hair spilled down her back, looped and braided to add sophistication and elegance. She was a magissa with pale, violet eyes. Her face was rounded and youthful, showing a pure and innocent beauty that didn’t belong in this world.

  On her head sat a small tiara, jewels glinting in the light.

  Lord Khalid’s expression turned to one of horror.

  By the Law of Hell, crowns, diadems, and tiaras could only be worn by high nobles. The woman in front of them was a Transcendent at the least. The name she gave, however, made even Sylvia freeze in terror.

  “I, Chanlina Asmodeus, speak on behalf of my sister wife and master, Duchess Mliss Phoung, Presiding Witch of the Grand Coven of the Fourth Layer,” Countess Chanlina spoke. “I find the parties guilty.”

  Sylvia quickly tilted the brim of her hat to hide her face. Then she tucked White Heaven into her soul. She could only hope that the countess hadn’t seen Belkis already.

  The zoi’s voice was gentle. “Lord Khalid, if you surrender yourself, I can promise a measure of mercy.”

  The akhekh shuddered. Despair overtook him. There was no hope for him now. Hanif might be part of Archduke Merihem’s domain, but that didn’t mean other nobles would stick their neck out for him. He was, in the grand scheme of things, a small and petty man. Easily replaced.

  “Heh, heh, heh,” Yvonne’s rotten cackle echoed through the silence. The hexe drew from her robes a jar of yellowed liquid. Within it swam a vile, rotten worm. The darkest of curses. The kind that would nest in a demon’s soul. “Then I implore upon this council. Let me deliver justice to the primary culprit.”

  “You women, you don’t have the right. You don’t have the right!” Dmitry cried defensively.

  The baron’s screams would echo in Sylvia’s mind for a long, long time.

  -oOo-

  Legal Structure of Hell

  Laws are written and enforced by multiple hierarchies in Hell. At the lowest level is the individual fief. Here exists the Office of the Magistrate along with the Lord’s Court. Above the Lord’s Court exists the High Court which itself can have two or three levels. For a dukedom, the High Court encompasses a single territory. For smaller planes, such as the Timeless Beryl Wilderness, the High Court exists under the authority of the demon king.

  Beyond the High Court is the Planar Court. For instance, there is the Court of Tartarus and the Court of Helheim. Finally, there is the Supreme Court of Hell.

  Creation of Laws

  Local laws are imposed at the will of the lord. In some cases, a formal structure may exist – such as a council of local devils. In others, laws will be created directly on the lord’s say so. If a baron or viscount is a vassal of a high noble, then this authority may be restrained.

  As a rule, local laws are trumped by the laws created by higher authorities. Willfully creating or enforcing laws that disagree with the rules set forth by greater persons is considered an act of rebellion and will be dealt with accordingly.

  On the level of a kingdom or a dukedom, however, laws are always created by parliament. This is a gathering of the domain’s nobles who form a legislature. The demon king or duke is excluded from this entity. Instead, they hold the authority to veto bills passed by parliament. By convention, this veto can be overruled by a two-thirds majority.

  Enforcement of Law

  Enforcement of law is the responsibility of the local noble and is carried out by the Office of the Magistrate. The magistrate will often have a collection of enforcers, known as marshals. These are distinct from the local guard, which is usually hired to promote the peace and the interests of wealthy parties. In most locations, however, the guard and the marshals work hand in hand.

  Once an arrest is made, the magistrate will carry out court proceedings to determine innocence or guilt. The accused may speak for themselves but has no right to a lawyer. In many cases, the magistrate serves as both judge and prosecutor. Some fiefs and dukedoms ban this practice, mandating that the roles be kept separate.

  All denizens have the right to appeal their case to the Lord’s Court. Devils and nobles may take their case to a higher court, or sponsor an appeal on a denizen’s behalf.

  By imperial law, only a devil may be appointed to the position of magistrate. The magistrate, however, may appoint clerks beneath him to help resolve legal matters. In higher courts, actual noble titles are required to hold key positions. Though such nobles may not be landed, they are considered respectable regardless.

  Due to the power levels of the netherworld, it is difficult to bring certain demons before the magistrate. This can lead to a breakdown of law. For this reason, the High Court may appoint special marshals to round up criminals of Class V or higher. These marshals are also used to arrest nobles when there is sufficient cause.

  Extra Judicial Courts

  Some clans, guilds, and lineages carry out extra judicial legal proceedings. The Supreme Coven of the Nether, for instance, creates laws and rules by which witches are expected to abide. They even carry out judgments of parties outside of their authority.

  This is, technically, a criminal act.

  However, it is quite common for the legal system of Hell to look the other way when this happens.

  Law Outside of Hell

  Legally, Hell is considered quite progressive – much of its rules having been defined by Demon Emperor Athena. Structurally, its system of law is quite similar to that of Heaven. Which isn’t surprising, given how Athena also defined much of Heaven’s legal structure. By comparison, the Fey Federation is a total mess. Only at the federal level does any sort of organization exist. Even then, the legal structure is paralyzed by competing interests.

  Bestiary

  Dmitry Naopte C-IV/High

  Species: Regal Vampire

  Lv: 670

  Hp/Mp: 1686 + 300 / 1813

  Atk/Def: 392, 150 pierce / 135 (200 ki)

  Celerity: 305%

  Dominion: 195

  Traits:

  True Vampire Heart, Blood Feast, Natural Magic: Anima, Enhanced Familiars, Blood Reservoir I, Rapid Regeneration II, Alpha Domination

  Egushawa Taubert C-V/Mid

  Species: Wendigo

  Lv: 890

  Hp/Mp: 3270 / 1686

  Atk/Def: 865, 150 pierce / 250 (400 ki)

  Celerity: 312%

  Dominion: 180

  Traits:

  Frost Lord Core, Mysticism: Ice, Cannibalism, Elemental Palace: Ice, Brutality I, Monstrous Strength I, Frost Titan

  Naopte Ghoul

  Species: Phantasmal Servitor

  Lv: 205

  Hp/Mp: 670 / 225

  Atk/Def: 185 / 55

  Celerity: 180%

  Exp: 701

  Ghouls are a familiar species spawned by regal vampires. The Naopte Ghoul is a greater ghoul started from a drop of Baron Naopte’s blood, then nurtured by the other members of the Naopte family. By this means, the ghoul’s strength was raised to C-II/Mid making it far more dangerous than the common ghoul summoned by ordinary vampires.

  Similar ghouls can be created by most Awakened vampires from the Nox Sanguis Rex bloodline.

  Abilities/Traits:

  Blood Fury – The creature goes into a berserk state: +10% attack/celerity. 3 hp and mp / second.

  Paralytic Claw – Claw strikes cause psychic damage, similar to a psionic spike with 80 potency. 25 mp.

  Naopte Ghoul Knight

  Species: Phantasmal Servitor

  Lv: 335

  Hp/Mp: 1350 / 415

  Atk/Def: 315 / 110

  Celerity: 205%

  Exp: 1566

  Ghouls are a familiar species spawned by regal vampires. The Naopte Ghoul Knight is an elite ghoul raised by Baron Naopte personally. As a result, the ghoul’s strength has reached C-II/High. As each ghoul knight demands investment of money, time, and energy, only a handful of knights were made. Every single one of these creatures guards a key location in the villa.

  Abilities/Traits:

  Blood Fury – Creature’s body grows denser and stronger: 15% DR, +15% attack. 3 hp and mp / second.

  Blood Shield – Creature forms a shield of blood: 500 Hp, cost: 80 Mp.

  Abomination

  Species: Mutated Servitor

  Lv: 400

  Hp/Mp: 5000 / 600

  Atk/Def: 800 / 80

  Celerity: 130%

  Exp: 10625

  Abominations are a mutated phantasm made by regal vampires. The creation process is not innate. Instead, their creation demands the systematic manipulation of the conjured phantasm’s being and flesh. The result is a titanic creature fit for war.

  Abominations possess the same mind and intelligence as a ghoul. Likewise, they can be easily controlled or manipulated by their master. Though these creatures are resistant to subversion by other powers, it remains dangerous for a vampire to send their abominations against other regal vampires several classes above their own.

  These beasts primarily attack using their giant claws. However, abominations can also fight by flinging or detonating blood sacs. There are several forms of release available to the creature. This includes an explosive splatter, a mist, or an extremely wide area psychic fog that drives those within mad with undirected rage.

  Abominations can also consume these blood sacks to regenerate lost life.

  Abilities/Traits:

  Giant – This creature is huge, benefiting from a 40% Size Reduction to inappropriately scaled attacks.

  Regeneration – Recovers lost hitpoints at 500/minute. Consumes 10% of blood reserves a minute.

  Cursed Mist – Deals creeping damage. Moves at 5m/s. 200 attack. 5% blood, 2 mana/second

  Psychic Haze – Inflicts madness on minds with less than 300% Integrity. 10% blood, 1 mana/second

  Corrosive Blood – Attack power of 800. 5% blood, 75 mana