Paladin of the Spirit: Chapter 29 (Patreon)

A few demons from deep below the waters tried to attack Darren and his newly free companions. But as soon as one of these demons showed their heads, either Darren or one of the other fourth-order humans would swoop down to skewer it with spear, sword, or arrow. All in all, they made quick work of their assailants.

On the way out of the city, the regular humans on the first ship had taken the highest casualties, but those with wings flew down and saved as many as they could. Even though only one in ten survived the escape, they had saved more than Darren thought they would. More than that, of all those who survived, he sensed the stress of nearly dying had done them good.

Years of wasting away in a cell had scrubbed what little life was left in them down to the barest nubs. But a desperate fight for freedom followed by a close brush with death had done much to rekindle their spirits. Perhaps some of them would find bonding a sigil easier this time. And those that had survived would find their souls lending the strength to rebuild their lives once they reached the surface.

They were nearing the end of their journey when Darren heard gasps and cries ring out over all the ships.

“I think we really did die! If we aren’t headed for the heavens, and I don’t know what that is!”

“That has to be a city of the seraphim!”

“Tell me this isn’t just a dream! Tell me!”

Darren turned to see what all the commotion was about. When he looked, he only saw the city where he’d slaughtered countless demons. Their deaths had baptized the city in purifying Divine Aura, which remade it from a hellish landscape to a divine paradise. He supposed the colors and lights would be especially vibrant for the people who had spent years in hell seeing only the dark mottled browns and blacks of hell.

Sir Kennith came for Darren to ask a few questions of his own.

“I thought we were in the fourth hell just then? What is a city like that doing here?” Sir Kennith asked.

“A friend and I denies slew demons there. When I finished the job, their deaths remade the city,” Darren explained.

Sir Kennith let out a low whistle. “I should like to meet this friend of yours. If they are half as strong as you are, they’re a friend I want to have in my corner.”

Darren said nothing in reply.

Eventually, Sir Kennith filled the empty silence.

“That was some battle. I thought we would lose half our number to those demon lords. And we would’ve too if you hadn’t shown such power. You are no archpaladin. I know that much.”

Darren thought about telling him about his Demon Calamity skill. The massive bonuses it gave him while fighting demons only compounded his power. When adding in Melancholy and his purification skill, he had a heavy advantage against just about every kind demon. So heavy that even when he was just a normal archpaladin, he wouldn’t have had much trouble putting down demon lords like the ones they’d faced.

But there was little point in sharing secrets others would have no means to replicate. Demon Calamity was a skill that had come from countless skill evolutions. He wasn’t sure if any skill books for his Demon Calamity ability even existed. For all he knew, the ability could only be created through his Limitless Evolution skill.

So instead, Darren told Sir Kennith the truth.

“I have reached the fifth order. I call what I am a Champion.”

Sir Kennith’s eyes glittered. “Champion… I like the sound of that.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Reaching archpaladin was always one of my greatest regrets. I thought it was what I always wanted back when I was just a holy adept. Every day I trained to grow just a little stronger. Completed quests to gain a little more devotion. But then, when I finally had enough Devotion to reach archpaladin, I realized I had nothing more to fight for. I admit it took a bit of wind out of my sails. If I hadn’t been captured and thrown down here in hell, I might still be a hollow shell of the man I once was, much as I am today. But you give me hope. Between that and freeing me, I owe you far more than my life. If there’s anything I can ever help you with, only say the word, and you will have my sword for your cause.”

Darren rested a hand on Sir Kennith’s shoulder. “Help the others and consider your debt repaid.”

Sir Kennith was not the only warrior of the fourth-order to speak the way he did. Priestess Samalta came next, followed by countless others. The rest of the fourth-order warriors slowly drifted over on their wings one by one to greet him by name. Then, face-to-face, they gave their names and told him that they owed him a debt that could not be repayed in one lifetime. At his word, any or all of them would rush to his side.

When he landed on the decks, many of the third-order warriors did so as well. Though most of them it only been holy adepts when Darren rescued them, and he had just been one face of many, the story had spread. He was the one who would come into hell alone. He was the one who fought countless demon lords and slew them with his blade. He was the one who braved dangerous untold and hardships unnumbered to save them from their eternal and unending suffering.

As they gave their oaths, their thanks, and their promises, Darren felt himself swell inside. Their faith was made manifest, and his Hallowed Idol skill converted that faith in the power. His reserves of Divine Aura grew greater, and until he grew used to the feeling, he would feel full and bloated. Almost like he had enjoyed a grand feast and hardly had time to rest before swallowing a second one.

In contrast to the third and fourth-order humans, the new holy adepts and regular humans didn’t dare to even approach him. They paid their respects from afar, bowing toward him and placing their hands over their hearts. Darren tried to address a few and tell them there was no need, but they refused even to meet his gaze. He felt devotion coming from them as well, but it was of a different sort.

While the others respected him as their rescuer, a friend worth repaying, or a lord worth serving, these people saw him like ants might see the heavens above. He was there, but he might as well be as distant as the stars. Perhaps someday, some hoped to reach high enough to speak with him as face-to-face as the others did, but for now, they felt they were not worthy.

When they finally arrived in the city, Darren pointed them toward the houses and the training yard. Between the two and all the divine aura in the city, they could recover their strength and taste freedom a while before braving another journey back to the surface.

“I must return to rescue others. Stay here. Later, I will return to lead you to the surface,” Darren said to the gathered crowd.

When they saw the homes, Darren risked giving them and felt the rich divine aura of the city. A few of them made words like they never plan to leave. A few others longed for the real surface, but for now, this was enough to sate their thirst.

After pointing the humans, holy adepts, and the third-order warriors in the right direction, he turned toward Sir Kennith and the other fourth-order warriors.

“Take any home you please. We won’t be here for long.” Darren told them, but none of them moved.

Eventually, Priestess Samalta explained why they were all waiting for him.

“We know you are going back. You’re going to rescue the others. After killing so many demon lords, the city is still in disarray. We have a limited opportunity to free all human prisoners before the demons can rally the defenses or transport them elsewhere.”

“And if you’re going, we plan to help.” Sir Kennith added.

“I need to travel fast,” Darren warned.

Wings sprouted from the backs of everyone present. Most of them were from that first batch of rescued arch paladins, but a few of the veteran third-order warriors he’d raised up to the fourth-order mere hours ago felt strong enough to join. In total, there were about thirty of them. Though far from enough to make an army, this was an elite team unheard-of on the surface.

“You will need to follow my lead,” Darren said.

“Yes, sir!” Sir Kenneth saluted. The others followed suit.

“You might die.”

“If we don’t do this, then our lives wouldn’t have been worth saving,” Priestess Samalta said.

Sensing that nothing he said or did would dissuade them, Darren took flight. Moments later, the others turned to follow.

***

The trip back to the city of fiends was far faster than their flight to it. Wings were faster than ships, and they made excellent time with only people who could fly at his back.

The city was on fire when they returned. Both demons and humans had been throwing around powerful skills, and while demons generally built things of stone, plenty of powerful abilities could make magic alone burn like spilled oil. Odds were a few human prisoners had been feeling a little vindictive when they left.

That damage played in their favor now. Only a few demons were even working to put out the fires as most scrambled together the things they thought were valuable before fleeing. Unlike most human villages, who by now would’ve formed a bucket line to put out the fire, these fiends were only interested in saving themselves. Their transformation into demons amplified the selfishness in their hearts, and many cackled at their neighbors’ misfortune as they fled the city with pouches full of stolen belongings.

The only exception to this were the tall towers scattered throughout the center of the city. These tall towers were the soul stone farms, and each of them were owned by Archdemon Melquart. If he got wind of his loyal subordinates fleeing the city while his property burned alive, looted and devoured by other demons, he would be furious.

There were three more towers that Darren thought might house humans. So he turned to his followers and asked for their help.

“I need scouts. Find out where the prisoners are being kept. Then come back for the others. Do nothing alone.”

“Understood, sir,” Sir Kenneth replied. He and a few others particularly fast on their wings took off in all directions. Darren kept a careful eye on them, only rushing to intervene when he saw one of the city’s few remaining demon lords coming for Sir Kenneth to cut them off before he could return to the group.

Darren rushed over and put that demon lord to the sword, saving Sir Kenneth once again.

When they all reconvened and made the reports, Darren had a good idea of where the humans were and how to get them out of the city.

“I was thinking we’ll need more boats since we cleared out the docks last time. It turns out most of the transport ships not in use are docked on the western side of the city in a smaller cavern. Will need to get them into position ahead of time,” Sir Kenneth said.

“Agreed. Do it. Everyone else, to the first tower.”

No longer bothering to hide now that most of the demon lords were dead, Darren and his band of fourth-order warriors flew to the very top of a tower that looked much like the one he’d broken his followers out of. He used Melancholy to carve a whole the side of the tower, and he and his people slipped through.

There, he was met with a similar sight of fourth-order warriors bound and chained. The demon lord who’d been standing guard over them had to have been one of the ones Darren killed during their escape because they were currently guarded only by a single fourth-order fiend and a handful of underlings.

The fourth-order warriors had long since this was their time to escape and began struggling with all their might. From the bruises on their wrists and the cracking of the lashes in the hands of the demons, they’d been doing their best to break free of their restraints and seize this unexpected opportunity.

Until now, their struggle had been in vain. The demons had them locked up tight, and even a single fourth-order and a couple of third-order fiends were enough to subdue them.

But as soon as Darren appeared, he cut off the head of the fourth-order ringleader. His followers descended upon the third-order fiends and sliced them to pieces as well. Then, without the need for further orders, they began to work at the chains binding these long-forgotten heroes.

This chamber wasn’t as full as the one Darren had found, containing only fifteen imprisoned fourth-order human warriors.

As soon as Darren’s followers broke their chains, they turned their eyes upon their saviors.

“What’s happening? Are we finally being rescued?” One of them asked.

“We are. By him.” Priestess Samalta pointed in Darren’s direction.

A few eyes turned to Darren, and others turned to the priestess.

“Priestess Samalta! You're alive after all this time! I can’t believe it. When I didn’t see you in this room with us, I thought you’d been killed during the betrayal!”

“I’m alive, as are many of our old friends. There are more towers in the city than just this one. Quickly for yourselves, as many others need saving. We’re all getting out of here together!” Priestess Samalta bent over to lend a hand. Darren was out of water in his Lifewell, but now he had several archpriestesses filled with Divine Aura and ready to lend a hand.

“Aye, and maybe when we’re finally free, we can make the Order of the Rod pay for what they did to us!”

The rest of the rescue went much the same as the first. Darren cut a hole in the floor, and their party descended floor by floor deeper into the tower until they freed and healed as many as possible. Darren handed out sigils and enhanced whoever he thought was ready. There were fewer of them here than before, but enough that Darren had turned his elite force of thirty into a group of more than fifty.

They broke into two groups, and Darren had priestess Samalta take all the paladins, priestesses, and clerics along with all the holy adepts and normal humans to the docks to rendezvous with Sir Kennith. There they would board the ships while Darren and the other fourth-order warriors headed to the other towers.

One by one, they freed the people imprisoned there and tore free age-old chains one by one. In their looting and pillaging, Darren found mountains of sigils and skill books from all the warriors who had died at these soul stone farms over the years. Before long, the supply of both sigils and skill books was larger than it had been before he started giving them away.

Only two demon lords were left in the city, and neither of them were as strong as the demon lords that Darren had already slain. He made short work of them, which only left regular fiends for his fourth-order warriors to fight.

On even or favorable terms, the humans found fights they could win. Darren led them to victory after victory, and despite years of imprisonment, their morale soared with each demon slain.

Soon they had cleared all three towers, and all the holy added apps and regular humans were aboard the ships. Darren’s flying fourth-order warriors patrolled the skies while those still bound the ground set fire to the city and burned out the remaining fiends. By the time they were done, the city had looked almost as thoroughly destroyed as Port Melquart had looked after Darren had his way with it.

They were marching back, already preparing to sing of their victory in their glorious vengeance against her captors, when disaster struck.

They saw the first glimpse of them on the horizon, streaking towards the burning city on clouds of black smoke. Sulfur tinged the air as they approached, and the ground rumbled.

“What’s happening?” Someone yelled.

Darren stared into the distance for a long moment before his sensory abilities activated and identified the source of the disturbance.

Sense Intent: Demon Analysis

• Archdemon Melquart (Fifth-Order)
  This powerful Demon Lord has distinguished himself as far stronger than his peers, and thanks to his tremendous strength, he now leads while they follow. He is part of the illustrious Circle of Archdemons, an organization of the most powerful demon lords second only to the Prime Sins.
  He is followed by his retinue of forty demon lords and a private army of ten thousand lesser demons.