chapter 885
Malcolm Tent
Monkey with a typewriter.
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Seeing my great grandparents together among those black volcanic mountains was…odd. The two of them were so innocuous. Young and relaxed and elegant, standing beside each other like a couple from some royal portrait. "They remind me of Shane and Callie," my sister said quietly. "I've never seen great-grandpa look so…young. He's usually got this ageless quality about him, like he could be a million years old."
My grandmother chuckled. "They bring out the best and the worst in each other. Their relationship has been complicated for a long time. When you build your whole world around another person, anything that goes wrong taints the way you feel about them. My parents were obsessed with each other when they were coming up, and that hasn't changed much. The form of that obsession is just different."
"I'm not so sure it is," my grandfather said dryly. "Master looks as agitated as I've ever seen him."
"She's his wife," my grandmother said with a soft smile. "What would you do if someone was plotting MY death? My mother can be cold, sometimes even cruel, but she takes care of her own. It's why he still loves her. Now watch, because this is going to get intense."
We shut up, focusing on the couple and the three men behind them. They were standing on a volcanic plateau, waiting, and within moments, three more people appeared across from them. The vanished gods. Raxus raised an eyebrow at the scythe. "You brought it with you?" He said in amusement. "Awfully confident in yourself, aren't you? I have to say, I don't like your chances. I've heard the rumors about your little pet monster," he smirked at Lark. "But an S-ranker can't do battle with a deity. Not a proper one."
Lark cracked his neck. "That one," he said lightly. "I want that one."
My great-grandmother grinned. "I suppose I'll take the old timer. Pigsticker, tin soldier, you're with the leech. Handle that brat for us while we deal with the real threats." She smirked at Raxus. "I look forward to seeing your acting skills in action. I suspect you're about to do a real convincing impression of someone getting their ass kicked."
Raxus sneered at her. "Bitch, I'll-" we didn't get to hear what he was going to do, because before he finished speaking, Lark dissolved into a torrent of mist, exploding outward into a tide of fog that blotted out the stars around them. Raxus's expression got serious, and he stomped his foot, that city world expanding around him, forcing back the volcanic mountains.
It didn't push them far. Only about a mile of city managed to interject itself into the divine world, suppressed by the combined force of two gods.
The fog flooded the city, wrapping around the buildings. My grandfather flicked his fingers, and a wall of white flame rose up between us and the scene in front of us. Then he snapped his fingers and it resolved into a crystal clear image, split into two separate viewpoints.
He grinned. "I purified the viewing experience. Should make it easier to keep track."
Sure enough, each image followed one of our groups. My great grandparents had advanced, shifting their world so that the city battlefield where Lark confronted Raxus was shunted off to the side, leaving the two gods time to work. Hatescream bellowed in rage, slashing open his palm and collecting the blood before hurling it out onto the rock.
The world began to corrode, the blood eating its way through the dark stone, and as it did, Stralthrem raised his hands and a tide of automatons erupted from the melting muck, condensing from red metallic material. The combination seemed to enhance the automatons, and while I couldn't really tell what they were exactly, I was pretty sure they were all at least high S-rank.
My great grandmother smirked, then offered her hand daintily. The Red Revenant took Black Sorrows hand in his, then he spun her, and the WORLD moved.
I'd seen people fight quickly before. Seen them move with ghostly precision, or unnatural grace. I'd seen spatial manipulation, and teleportation, and super speed. But I'd never seen anything like what I watched when those two fought together. As the two of them moved, it was like they were standing totally still, but whenever one of them took a step or pushed off, the world around them slid by like someone was scrolling across a screen.
One second they were there, the next he was twirling her among the army of machines, and the scythe moved along the outside of her spin, cutting through the metallic monsters like they were the wheat it had been designed to bisect.
A whirling, trotting, dizzying tempo, the two of them danced, standing in place and cutting a rug as reality was torn to pieces in their orbit. Under their feet, a riot of red black flames erupted with each step, darkness and light intertwining and roaring as it consumed everything they left behind.
It HURT to look at, and I was forced to drag my eyes to the other one, where Raxus was NOT having a good time. The city was overrun, legions climbing the buildings and herding the god across the face of his own world. He flicked his fingers, shifting the buildings, trying to confuse and divert them, but he was a bit distracted dodging the colossal waves of gentle looking white cutting force that bisected huge swathes of city.
My grandparents had their complex world, Lark was using his mist, and Shrader had an army to bring to bear, but the Moonlight Pope didn't bother with any of that. One sword, one victory. I was in awe of just how sharp those blade lights were, and I realized after a few glances that I was blinking back tears of what I soon figured out was BLOOD, because the literal sight of those slashes was cutting into my eyes.
I learned to avoid looking at them head on, and my eyes healed, probably protected by the purification of the screen mostly, but damn if that wasn't terrifying.
Raxus looked livid, but between the ultimate swordsman, the endless waves of soldiers in perfect formations, and Lark enshrouding him and confusing his senses, the god of deception had no chance to turn things around.
Meanwhile Stralthrem and Hatescream had abandoned their wave tactics and engaged my great grandparents directly. They tried to encircle them, with Hatescream manifesting a pair of crimson hand axes from his own blood and Stralthrem throwing back his cloak to reveal arms replete with massive buzzing energy cannons.
Blast of ethereal force rained down on the waltzing couple, unable to even singe the corners of their clothes, as Hatescream tried to both dodge and attack. The scythe bit through his axes, not quite severing them in one shot, but managing to take them out on the second swing every time, and the older god was forced to bleed himself even more deeply to replenish them. Stralthrem and Hatescream were being pushed back, but I didn't get the impression they were in much ACTUAL danger. I didn't think any of the gods were.
That scythe looked like it might be able to kill one of them if wielded properly, but if so, it wasn't being wielded like that now. None of the cuts were causing much damage. Even as I had the thought, my great grandmother released her husband's hand, spinning out away from him in a pirouette, and raised the scythe above her head. There was a pulse of dark energy and the enshrining darkness infused the blade. Above her, the scythe manifested in the form of a giant image, on the back of the jagged, menacing blade, a skull opened its mouth and screamed, darkness erupting from its eyes and from between its teeth.
Stralthrem and Hatescream didn't even hesitate, they got the fuck out of dodge, backing off immediately. Their worlds exploded out, shoving back the combined worlds my grandparents had manifested and breaking free to speed over to an empty section of space, staring back at them worriedly.
The scythe was dangerous, but it was also slow. They looked wary but not concerned enough to actually escape. Sadly for the group, they were worrying about the wrong thing.
As soon as they broke free, the volcanic world condensed, smashing down until it was only a small ring of very condensed territory surrounding the city. The city world, meanwhile, was squeezed like it was in the grip of an invisible fist. Raxus, who had been trying to avoid getting cut by the Moonlight Pope, stopped and looked up at the scythe that was now hovering over HIM, still gathering power.
"Now!" My great grandmother cackled maliciously. In the fog around Raxus, a hand appeared, and in it was something I hadn't seen for a few months. The ink stone. Lark's disembodied hand clenched down, and the inkstone shattered, exploding into a tide of dark dust that dyed the fog surrounding it pitch black. The fog swirled and condensed, sublimating as it did, going from diffuse mist to sleek black chains that looked like they were made of liquid darkness. Raxus's eyes went wide with terror. "NO! STOP! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
"To paraphrase my dolt of a husband," Black Sorrow trilled gleefully. "RUBRUM GLORIA!" And she swung the scythe.
The massive image of the scythe fell like a headsmans axe, shearing through space and bisecting the city world on its path to gently scooping the head off the deceptive god being chained down by the combined suppression of a dead god's object of power and the strong S-ranker in the universe.
Raxus's head rolled off his shoulders, thumping to the street, and the city projection shattered. I wasn't sure if the god world was gone, or if the extension of it into realspace had just been cut off (though I suspected the latter), but it vanished. I turned to look, but sure enough, Hatescream and Stralthrem were gone. I blinked in shock, staring at my grandparents and mother. "Did…did you know that was going to happen?"
They all shook their head. My grandmother shrugged. "My mother doesn't like being plotted against. I wasn't expecting the method, but I'm not surprised she prioritized Raxus. She can be somewhat petty."
"Now that's no way to talk about your beloved mommy," came a poisonously sweet voice. Black Sorrow and the Red Revenant appeared behind us, both of them looking neat and orderly. "But I'll forgive you because you did such a good job protecting the kids and showing them our victory."
"I did that," protested my grandfather.
She scoffed at him. "You're inconsequential. I consider your actions to be proof of my daughter's delegation skills."
Pinching the bridge of her nose, my grandmother sighed. "Mother, please be polite to my husband. It'll be much easier for to visit if you aren't constantly belittling and threatening him. Not to mention we're all on the same side."
Black Sorrow nodded solemnly. "You're right of course, darling. Even trash like him deserves common decency. I'll do my best to be polite for your sake, regardless of what a disappointing waste of space he is." She turned to look at my grandfather with a serious expression. "Good job…you."
He blinked at her. "Do you…do you not know my NAME?"
"Of course I do," she snapped imperiously. "It's…Dan. Wait, Michael. I know it starts with a vowel."
"Neither of those names start with vowels," I pointed out helpfully. "Now, how about to celebrate the execution of a GOD, we all head to Rackham to get something to eat. We need to drop the others off, and it's close by. We can all finally share a meal as a family, assuming the great grandparents can stand to be around each other that long."
Black Sorrow sighed. "I suppose. I'm in a good mood after snuffing out that pathological liar, so I can magnanimously grace you all with my presence."
Bethy perked up, "Wait, there's going to be presents?"
The goddess glanced at her assessingly before nodding. "I like you," she looked at us. "I like her." We all shuddered as we heard the most terrifying statement we'd ever been privy to. That couldn't possibly bode well.
My grandmother chuckled. "They bring out the best and the worst in each other. Their relationship has been complicated for a long time. When you build your whole world around another person, anything that goes wrong taints the way you feel about them. My parents were obsessed with each other when they were coming up, and that hasn't changed much. The form of that obsession is just different."
"I'm not so sure it is," my grandfather said dryly. "Master looks as agitated as I've ever seen him."
"She's his wife," my grandmother said with a soft smile. "What would you do if someone was plotting MY death? My mother can be cold, sometimes even cruel, but she takes care of her own. It's why he still loves her. Now watch, because this is going to get intense."
We shut up, focusing on the couple and the three men behind them. They were standing on a volcanic plateau, waiting, and within moments, three more people appeared across from them. The vanished gods. Raxus raised an eyebrow at the scythe. "You brought it with you?" He said in amusement. "Awfully confident in yourself, aren't you? I have to say, I don't like your chances. I've heard the rumors about your little pet monster," he smirked at Lark. "But an S-ranker can't do battle with a deity. Not a proper one."
Lark cracked his neck. "That one," he said lightly. "I want that one."
My great-grandmother grinned. "I suppose I'll take the old timer. Pigsticker, tin soldier, you're with the leech. Handle that brat for us while we deal with the real threats." She smirked at Raxus. "I look forward to seeing your acting skills in action. I suspect you're about to do a real convincing impression of someone getting their ass kicked."
Raxus sneered at her. "Bitch, I'll-" we didn't get to hear what he was going to do, because before he finished speaking, Lark dissolved into a torrent of mist, exploding outward into a tide of fog that blotted out the stars around them. Raxus's expression got serious, and he stomped his foot, that city world expanding around him, forcing back the volcanic mountains.
It didn't push them far. Only about a mile of city managed to interject itself into the divine world, suppressed by the combined force of two gods.
The fog flooded the city, wrapping around the buildings. My grandfather flicked his fingers, and a wall of white flame rose up between us and the scene in front of us. Then he snapped his fingers and it resolved into a crystal clear image, split into two separate viewpoints.
He grinned. "I purified the viewing experience. Should make it easier to keep track."
Sure enough, each image followed one of our groups. My great grandparents had advanced, shifting their world so that the city battlefield where Lark confronted Raxus was shunted off to the side, leaving the two gods time to work. Hatescream bellowed in rage, slashing open his palm and collecting the blood before hurling it out onto the rock.
The world began to corrode, the blood eating its way through the dark stone, and as it did, Stralthrem raised his hands and a tide of automatons erupted from the melting muck, condensing from red metallic material. The combination seemed to enhance the automatons, and while I couldn't really tell what they were exactly, I was pretty sure they were all at least high S-rank.
My great grandmother smirked, then offered her hand daintily. The Red Revenant took Black Sorrows hand in his, then he spun her, and the WORLD moved.
I'd seen people fight quickly before. Seen them move with ghostly precision, or unnatural grace. I'd seen spatial manipulation, and teleportation, and super speed. But I'd never seen anything like what I watched when those two fought together. As the two of them moved, it was like they were standing totally still, but whenever one of them took a step or pushed off, the world around them slid by like someone was scrolling across a screen.
One second they were there, the next he was twirling her among the army of machines, and the scythe moved along the outside of her spin, cutting through the metallic monsters like they were the wheat it had been designed to bisect.
A whirling, trotting, dizzying tempo, the two of them danced, standing in place and cutting a rug as reality was torn to pieces in their orbit. Under their feet, a riot of red black flames erupted with each step, darkness and light intertwining and roaring as it consumed everything they left behind.
It HURT to look at, and I was forced to drag my eyes to the other one, where Raxus was NOT having a good time. The city was overrun, legions climbing the buildings and herding the god across the face of his own world. He flicked his fingers, shifting the buildings, trying to confuse and divert them, but he was a bit distracted dodging the colossal waves of gentle looking white cutting force that bisected huge swathes of city.
My grandparents had their complex world, Lark was using his mist, and Shrader had an army to bring to bear, but the Moonlight Pope didn't bother with any of that. One sword, one victory. I was in awe of just how sharp those blade lights were, and I realized after a few glances that I was blinking back tears of what I soon figured out was BLOOD, because the literal sight of those slashes was cutting into my eyes.
I learned to avoid looking at them head on, and my eyes healed, probably protected by the purification of the screen mostly, but damn if that wasn't terrifying.
Raxus looked livid, but between the ultimate swordsman, the endless waves of soldiers in perfect formations, and Lark enshrouding him and confusing his senses, the god of deception had no chance to turn things around.
Meanwhile Stralthrem and Hatescream had abandoned their wave tactics and engaged my great grandparents directly. They tried to encircle them, with Hatescream manifesting a pair of crimson hand axes from his own blood and Stralthrem throwing back his cloak to reveal arms replete with massive buzzing energy cannons.
Blast of ethereal force rained down on the waltzing couple, unable to even singe the corners of their clothes, as Hatescream tried to both dodge and attack. The scythe bit through his axes, not quite severing them in one shot, but managing to take them out on the second swing every time, and the older god was forced to bleed himself even more deeply to replenish them. Stralthrem and Hatescream were being pushed back, but I didn't get the impression they were in much ACTUAL danger. I didn't think any of the gods were.
That scythe looked like it might be able to kill one of them if wielded properly, but if so, it wasn't being wielded like that now. None of the cuts were causing much damage. Even as I had the thought, my great grandmother released her husband's hand, spinning out away from him in a pirouette, and raised the scythe above her head. There was a pulse of dark energy and the enshrining darkness infused the blade. Above her, the scythe manifested in the form of a giant image, on the back of the jagged, menacing blade, a skull opened its mouth and screamed, darkness erupting from its eyes and from between its teeth.
Stralthrem and Hatescream didn't even hesitate, they got the fuck out of dodge, backing off immediately. Their worlds exploded out, shoving back the combined worlds my grandparents had manifested and breaking free to speed over to an empty section of space, staring back at them worriedly.
The scythe was dangerous, but it was also slow. They looked wary but not concerned enough to actually escape. Sadly for the group, they were worrying about the wrong thing.
As soon as they broke free, the volcanic world condensed, smashing down until it was only a small ring of very condensed territory surrounding the city. The city world, meanwhile, was squeezed like it was in the grip of an invisible fist. Raxus, who had been trying to avoid getting cut by the Moonlight Pope, stopped and looked up at the scythe that was now hovering over HIM, still gathering power.
"Now!" My great grandmother cackled maliciously. In the fog around Raxus, a hand appeared, and in it was something I hadn't seen for a few months. The ink stone. Lark's disembodied hand clenched down, and the inkstone shattered, exploding into a tide of dark dust that dyed the fog surrounding it pitch black. The fog swirled and condensed, sublimating as it did, going from diffuse mist to sleek black chains that looked like they were made of liquid darkness. Raxus's eyes went wide with terror. "NO! STOP! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
"To paraphrase my dolt of a husband," Black Sorrow trilled gleefully. "RUBRUM GLORIA!" And she swung the scythe.
The massive image of the scythe fell like a headsmans axe, shearing through space and bisecting the city world on its path to gently scooping the head off the deceptive god being chained down by the combined suppression of a dead god's object of power and the strong S-ranker in the universe.
Raxus's head rolled off his shoulders, thumping to the street, and the city projection shattered. I wasn't sure if the god world was gone, or if the extension of it into realspace had just been cut off (though I suspected the latter), but it vanished. I turned to look, but sure enough, Hatescream and Stralthrem were gone. I blinked in shock, staring at my grandparents and mother. "Did…did you know that was going to happen?"
They all shook their head. My grandmother shrugged. "My mother doesn't like being plotted against. I wasn't expecting the method, but I'm not surprised she prioritized Raxus. She can be somewhat petty."
"Now that's no way to talk about your beloved mommy," came a poisonously sweet voice. Black Sorrow and the Red Revenant appeared behind us, both of them looking neat and orderly. "But I'll forgive you because you did such a good job protecting the kids and showing them our victory."
"I did that," protested my grandfather.
She scoffed at him. "You're inconsequential. I consider your actions to be proof of my daughter's delegation skills."
Pinching the bridge of her nose, my grandmother sighed. "Mother, please be polite to my husband. It'll be much easier for to visit if you aren't constantly belittling and threatening him. Not to mention we're all on the same side."
Black Sorrow nodded solemnly. "You're right of course, darling. Even trash like him deserves common decency. I'll do my best to be polite for your sake, regardless of what a disappointing waste of space he is." She turned to look at my grandfather with a serious expression. "Good job…you."
He blinked at her. "Do you…do you not know my NAME?"
"Of course I do," she snapped imperiously. "It's…Dan. Wait, Michael. I know it starts with a vowel."
"Neither of those names start with vowels," I pointed out helpfully. "Now, how about to celebrate the execution of a GOD, we all head to Rackham to get something to eat. We need to drop the others off, and it's close by. We can all finally share a meal as a family, assuming the great grandparents can stand to be around each other that long."
Black Sorrow sighed. "I suppose. I'm in a good mood after snuffing out that pathological liar, so I can magnanimously grace you all with my presence."
Bethy perked up, "Wait, there's going to be presents?"
The goddess glanced at her assessingly before nodding. "I like you," she looked at us. "I like her." We all shuddered as we heard the most terrifying statement we'd ever been privy to. That couldn't possibly bode well.