Slumrat Rising

Moyle dropped away behind their two-vehicle convoy with startling speed.

Suburb-suburb-suburb-strip malls-farms. Sudden spike of loathing, then nothing once again, as the farms vanished. Like some solar demon had traced a sharp line around the outer edge of the city and said… well, probably nothing with intelligible words, but its meaning would be quite clear.

Once they got into the farm belt, Merkovah pulled over and glared at the city. He ceremoniously spat once, hopped back in his carriage, and resumed the drive. Truth supposed it must be personal with the little exorcist. He had seen nicer cities, but Moyle seemed… fine. Having taken enough time to process the bomb Thrush had dropped, he resumed the conversation.

“Elaborate on the “Five Hundred Years Old” thing.”

“I don’t actually know how old he is; five hundred is just a guess. Simply- with level seven cultivation, he would look about as good as he ever could have for his age, and his aging would more or less stop. It would have added, oh, another seventy years onto his life? More or less? But he looks young, and the life inside him burns like a sun. At some point, he started practicing a body cultivation technique, one that conferred significant benefits to longevity. He is an old monster, and his vices are envy and wrath. Well disciplined, but they are there.”

“Ah. And that kind of insight…”

“Is the kind of thing he might well kill me out of hand over, yes. So… kindly employer? Please send me back to Hell. Now. If you don’t know how to bodily return an imp to the infernal realms, I would be happy to teach you.”

“No need; the banishment is built into your contract. Safe travels.” Truth decisively grabbed the necklace and activated the banishment. It might be a basic piece of junk, but at least its manufacturer had the decency to rip off a functional design rather than kludging things. Thrush’s presence vanished almost instantly, without even time to utter a sinister parting word. Truth wasn’t prepared to keep around an imp that was starting to turn on him.

Truth didn’t try to think. He just let himself feel. The farms vanished almost as quickly as the city had. Another invisible line- no more farms. Now it was just desert. Those farms must be supported with intensive irrigation or much better magic than he would have thought farmers could afford.

It was wild. All green growing fields and then blasted earth so bleak it seemed to redefine “desert.” Not pretty rolling sand dunes or the red dirt scrubland of the Free State. This was desolation. And yet, the people living in Siphios seemed more prosperous than their southern neighbors. This must be a little localized thing.

Five hundred years. The number felt unreal. Truth could easily imagine five hundred needles for a needler. He could imagine five hundred people. But to live five hundred years? He had always assumed that he would be dead by thirty if he didn’t get into Starbrite. He didn’t have high ambitions for how long he would live in Starbrite. It just never seemed to be relevant. Just focus on the next thing that needed doing.

Get Harmony on the right track. Ok, done. Get Sophie into the best university she could get. Not as much he could do there, but load her up on school supplies, cultivation aids, whatever. Set aside friends and family points for her too. Then Vigor. He was the furthest off, but “furthest” was still only a couple of years away. Still, whatever it took. Just… get your head down and push. You can rest when they are safe.

It occurred to him only now that he had only ever felt “safer” but never “safe.” He always had to be working, pushing, and earning. Never complaining. Never ungrateful for what he was given. Eager to show his thanks to his… employers. He knew some of that came from the System, but most of it came from him. “The slave mentality.” Yes, that about fit.

Five hundred years. How much could he do in five hundred years? He would definitely have a personality by then, right? He snorted. The skin had begun peeling on that particular onion of lies. He might not be the most colorful soul, but he definitely had a better personality than a lot of people he could think of.

Merkovah steered them to a roadside rest stop. Breakfast that day was fried bits of flatbread slathered with different things. Truth opted for the bright reddish one, which turned out to be an interesting choice. It was covered with a sort of spiced butter and an intense spice blend. It was pretty tasty but also kind of overwhelming. Merkovah had them sit around a little table to explain what the plan was.

“We have now escaped that pestilential city. Bad cess upon it. A city of penis-headed demons. May ten thousand years pass before I ever return there.” Truth had to wonder if the beardy ancient actually expected to live that long.

“We are on to our next destination. I have been hired to-” he used a word Truth didn’t know “for the town of Mega. Shouldn’t be a big job, a couple of days at most. With luck, we may even be done today.” Merkovah sighed heavily.

“Mega is, perhaps, a little too close to Moyle for comfort, as we are now barely forty-five minutes away. However, it’s a simple cash job and will help us learn a little more about each other. Speaking of, we did introductions yesterday, but let's do the professional introductions today. Tommy, you’re the new hire. Start us off.”

“Hey, everyone. My name is Tommy Wells, and I am… roughly twenty-five? I haven’t been keeping close track. I spent my teens training in talisman maintenance and wound up splitting my time between doing that and security work in a private security company. My training and work experience includes bodyguard work. I enjoy trying new food and reading novels. And travel, to my surprise.”

Merkovah nodded at that and pointed to Jember.

“I’m Jember, definitely twenty-two, fresh out of the University of Siphios at Mortena Jeru. I got my degree in apocalypticism. I am currently getting work experience with Doctor Merkovah. I also enjoy eating good food, but my big hobby is running and dancing.”

Merkovah cut in. “Tommy, we will be covering what exactly I do later, but basically, the exorcism pays the bills while my job as a teacher lets me research… what I want to research. Not a short conversation. Etenesh, you are up.”

“My name is Etenesh, twenty-three years old, also fresh out of the University of Siphios at Mortena Jeru. My degree is in theoretical and applied theogony, so you can imagine I read a lot of books. So, so many books. I am also getting work experience with Doctor Merkovah, but plan to go back for my doctorate in a couple of years. I also like to dance, and I am, of course, a lifelong Pitz fan and Toluca supporter.”

Merkovah smiled lightly and turned back towards Truth. “I’ll give you the details of my long-term project tonight. For now, let's press on to Mega and get the job done.”

Roughly an hour later, they were standing in a rare stretch of flat land around Mega. The town was located in a sort of pocket formed by the intersection of two small mountain ranges, though “small” is a debatable term when referring to mountains almost two kilometers tall. The cousins, Etenesh and Jember were laying out a formation on the ground. To Truth’s surprise and mild alarm, they were assisted by several spirits, each of whom made his hair rise in alarm.

“So, remember the exorcism over at Widow Yettran’s place?” Merkovah asked Truth.

“Sure, necrotic spirits. You summoned an angel that cleaned house.”

“Yes. And then what?”

“You had an argument with it. I couldn’t tell if you won or not. Frankly, I didn’t know they could be argued with.”

“A belief they love to encourage. In fact, angels can be argued with, tricked, bribed, all the good stuff. The key is that they only ever operate on divine instructions. But, remember what I said about the nature of God yesterday?”

“Contradictory, and even the angels give different stories.”

“Yep. So if you can convince an angel that God wants them to do something, they will just mindlessly go and do it. And with the right preparation, it’s not so hard to convince them.”

“You looked like you were scolding the angel?”

“I was. I was reminding it that there was a contract in place, and it had a duty to prevent exactly that kind of spiritual contagion from spreading. The talisman I showed it was “proof” of the contract.”

“Is… there such a contract?”

Merkovah grinned and shrugged. “Debatably. As a nationally recognized Teacher of religious law, I would say there is. And the angel agreed with my analysis.”

“Is… that what we are doing here? Scamming an angel?”

“Oh no. No, this is strictly focused at demons. Speaking of, have you much experience fighting demons head-on?”

“Not… much. Some.”

“Well, lose that acid bolter. Time for you to use a proper exorcist’s weapon.” Merkovah opened the boot of his carraige and pulled out a sword. A meter-long blade, hilted for two-handed use. Minimal hand protection with a cross guard. The flattened diamond shape seemed more suited for piercing, though Truth could imagine it was effective in the cut. Not fullered. It didn’t need to be. A rather standard-looking blade, save for the fact that it was practically glowing with spellwork.

Dense lines of sigils and incantations seemed to crawl along the blade. The etching seemed to twist and double back in places, the incantations splitting like a river running into a delta and descending to a sea of formations and holy names. He tried to analyze it the way he would a normal talisman, and it just… wasn’t. All the usual logic seemed to go flying out the window. In fact, the more he looked at it, the more perplexed he became. Not only did it not make sense, it shouldn’t have worked at all.

“Trying to crack the spellwork? Don’t bother. It’s coated in a spell to disguise the actual spellwork. Anti-counterfeiting protection. Invented here in Siphios! Now then, young man, I assume you have been trained in the basics of swordplay?”

Truth looked blankly at Merkovah. He had never touched a sword. Why would he? “I am used to working with shorter blades.”

“Ah, no matter. Basically, what’s about to happen is this: The big demon bowl locking down this mountain pass is full. Mostly demonic insects, nothing really sentient. What you sometimes hear referred to as Goetia Pandemonium, though that’s not a strictly accurate description.” Truth could suddenly, vividly, believe that Merkovah was a university professor.

“What’s going to happen is this. Etenesh and Jember are going to create a formation that will lift the spell bowl while trapping all the demons inside the formation. I am going to summon an angel. It’s going to exterminate all the bigger demons. We don’t want to summon it while the bowl is down, or it would smash it. Now, the thrifty people of Mega waited until the last possible moment, so there is a regrettably large number of weaker demons in there. You and I are going to exterminate them.”

Truth nodded at that. “OK.”

Merkovah gave him an odd look. “I just told you that we are going to be trapped in a cage with who knows how many unchained demons, and your response is just… ok?”

“Spiritual bodies, right?”

“Of course.”

“So all we have to do is disrupt the bodies to the point where they can’t reform, right?”

“Yes…”

“So it's fine. I have a sword now. I’m not saying I could solo infinity demons with it, but I reckon I can clear out a lot of small fry. You seem confident that you can handle the rest.”

Truth took a few practice swings with the sword. Kind of the same as a machete- use your arms for control, but you use your body for power. Fun.

“Huh. “Ok” it is. By the way, that sword is a little special. Do well in the battle, and it’s yours.”

Truth nodded. The good contracts always had excellent bonuses.

“Teacher! We are ready!” Jember yelled.

Truth squared up to the core of the spell formation and loosened his wrists. He had spent… it felt like a long time… fighting things that could hit him, and he couldn’t really hit back. He was going to enjoy this.

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