Return of the Runebound Professor - Chapter 562 (Patreon)

The word slammed into Noah like a physical blow. He doubled over, the air driven from his lungs and the world spinning around him. Noah barely managed to gather his senses and will himself to a halt before he was sent hurtling through the darkness and into oblivion.

And with that word, the final scraps of Wizen’s body evaporated.

All that remained of him was the glowing blue light that had been growing stronger with every passing second.

His soul.

There was a sound like a zipper ripping through the planes of reality. Every thread of grey magic tightened as if they had been pulled taut.

Familiar power roiled in the air. Power that Noah had felt within Sunder — and yet, unique enough to make it completely apparent that this was not his Rune. They may have been cut from the same cloth, but they were different.

A loud snap echoed through the void, and a soul was torn free from the line.

The magic wrapped around the soul, pouring into it to create flesh. Gray thread wove into the form of a small demon, her new flesh the color of cobblestone. Power thrummed from her body in waves, and though her eyes were closed, her chest rose and fell in faint breaths.

Sticky had a body once more. Coils of grey power slithered beneath her skin like a bed of snakes, slowly fading away as they found their places and settled in.

Noah stared at her in disbelief. Sunder had rebuilt his body countless times when he’d died back in the Mortal Plane, but Wizen had just ripped Sticky straight out of the Line itself. His final words had proven true.

Wizen had stolen straight from the gods.

I think I’m going to need a little bit more than just a fruit basket.

Noah willed himself toward Sticky, but Wizen was faster.

His glowing blue hand pressed into the demon girl’s back, sending her flying through the void toward Noah. She landed in Noah’s arms limply. Sticky was wrapped in in a deep cloak of sleep. That was probably for the best. The less she remembered of the afterlife, the better it would be.

Noah’s gaze lifted. For a moment, he stared into Wizen’s glowing blue eyes. The other man’s lips worked as he tried to form a word. Noah had never had any difficulty speaking to himself as a soul after he’d been reincarnated, but it seemed that boon did not extend its grace to the afterlife.

Wizen’s finger lifted in to the air and he traced it through the air. A faint trail of energy followed in the wake of his finger as he wrote a single word.

Then he turned toward the red line that stretched out through the afterlife. A single strand of grey energy, the only remaining one, swirled up to wrap around Wizen’s wrist. He grabbed onto the strand of red and shot off, a streak of light fading into eternity.

Noah stared at the final word that Wizen had left behind. He was all too aware of the growing pink light in the distance, but the other man wouldn’t have wasted time drawing a word for no reason.

And that was a problem.

The word made absolutely no sense.

Ortem.

There was no pattern to it. No sign that it might have been a hidden message or something else. It was simply a word.

Noah couldn’t risk sitting around and waiting any longer to find out what it meant. He spun, his gaze turning to the burning mote of white in the distance. The portal back to the Damned Plain was still open. Even now, Sievan held it for him.

With Sticky under one arm and the key clutched in a hand, Noah flew toward the portal that would take him away from the Line.

He flew toward life.  

***

A bowl of chocolate lay spilled across the ground at Renewal’s feet. A dark screen floated before it, devoid of picture or life. The dark chair that had taken residence beside her own had vanished.

Decras was gone.

Renewal had forgotten how empty the world could feel. The infuriating god had been the first break in the monotony of her job in thousands of years. Even though he had only stuck around for a few brief instants in time, she had no choice but to admit to herself that those moments had been enjoyable ones.

And now they were over.

Like all things in existence, those moments had been forced to come to an end.

It was her fault. She’d been too lax in her duty. Renewal had been distracted. She’d been having too much fun watching. Too much fun speaking with Decras. That had cost her a mere flicker of an instant. An amount of time that was so small that a mortal wouldn’t have realized it was happening.

She hadn’t thought it would matter. Wizen’s goal was impossible. He was too far from his daughter. By the time he grew closer, she would have had a chance to interfere, and so she had been content to watch.

To let things play out.

But that brief instant had been enough for Wizen to change his mind. Instead of spending years traversing the line to find his daughter, he had used his powers on the spot.

He’d ripped Sticky from the Line.

He’d shattered the natural order.

It had been far from subtle. The void was sensitive. Magic — especially forbidden magic — passed through it like a current of electricity. It bore word of what had happened. Of Renewal’s failure.

And that word did not go unheard.

Renewal did not blame Decras for running. It had been the smart move.  

The very instant the shockwave had torn through the void, Decras had flung himself into a dark portal and vanished, taking every trace of his passing with him.

He had left Renewal alone to face Judgement.

He had left Renewal alone as the universe split apart.

And from within that rend in the universe emerged a woman clad in a dress of stars. Galaxies coiled through her body and starlight shimmered in her wake. The woman’s face was indescribable, even to Renewal. Features came and went, the ebb and flow of a universal ocean. The faces of a thousand overlaid over each other in one instant, only to become nothing but stars in the next.  

She was everything and nothing at once. Pressure pushed and pulled like the heartbeat of the universe itself. The immensity of her magic was such that a planet would have crumbled under her presence alone.

She was Judgement.

And, though Renewal could not speak to a single defining detail in Judgement’s features, there was a single emotion present within that ever-changing face.

Anger.

“Renewal.” The word was silent. Devoid of all the power and immensity that made up Judgement’s being. “You have failed in your duties. How could you have allowed this to happen?”

“I take full responsibility,” Renewal said, bowing her head. There was nothing more that could be done. No excuse or justification would have changed the outcome. Everything in life had a price. This was the cost of distraction. The cost of deviation from the path that the universe had set for her.

“Responsibility is not sufficient. You are stripped of your position.” Judgement extended her hand to the side, and the axe of an executioner shimmered to life within it. The weapon was plain, nothing but wood and metal, but a fist of ice clenched around Renewal’s heart at the sight of it.

It was a weapon that had tasted the blood of gods.

Renewal’s hands clenched at her sides.

There was nothing she could do. Judgement was a Rank 11 God — a High God. And more than that. Judgement ruled this section of the universe. Her word was more than command. It was law.

“I understand,” Renewal said.

“But you do not regret,” Judgement said. “I see it in your eyes, Renewal. You have been led astray. So much talent, squandered. We could have used your strength, but you have allowed yourself to fall. One of the Outer Gods, then? Tell me their name.”

Renewal’s jaw set. The universe did not permit for the lesser gods to rebel against it. Only those with true power — or a death wish — could oppose it.

But her fate was already set in stone. Judgement would not have drawn her axe if she did not plan to use it.

A tiny smile pulled at the corners of Renewal’s lips. Judgement had been right. She didn’t regret anything. The tiny flicker in time she had spent with Decras, watching the strange mortals desperately fight for power, had been some of the most enjoyable in her life.

The only enjoyable moments since she had become a god. There had been a time where Renewal had justified her interest in Noah by convincing herself that she only watched to see how she could take the power that he had stolen.

Now, she knew that to be a lie. The power was nice, but true power could not be stolen. To become a god was to become oneself. And now, at the end, there was no room for mistruth.

Renewal had simply been having fun.

“Tell me their name,” Judgement repeated. “I order you, Renewal. This is your final command.”

“No,” Renewal replied, her faint grin forming into a full smile. “I will not. Good riddance to you, Judgement.”

“You have truly fallen.” Disgust dripped from Judgement’s words. “You disgust me, Renewal. You had everything — but now, you will have nothing. I judge you unfit to continue existence. You are a stain upon the universe, a collaborator with Chaos.”

Renewal said nothing.

Judgement lifted her axe.

Renewal didn’t try to dodge or block. There was no point. Judgement’s swing would follow her through universes. It would shatter anything in its path. A power like hers could not be rebelled against.

Perhaps Decras had the right idea. Damn this order to the ends of the universe. There is no joy in complacency.

“Your sentence is death,” Judgement said.

Renewal squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a wet thud.

“I fear that I must object.”

Renewal recognized that voice. Her eyes snapped open.

Protruding from the center of Judgement’s chest, sending rivers of golden blood pouring down her starry dress, was a black spear.

Blood splattered across the ground as Decras stepped out from behind the High God, his weapon coated golden.

“You,” Judgement hissed, clutching a hand to her stomach. “Impossible. You are not a High God. You cannot injure me.”

Decras’ laughter rang out through the void. He was still laughing when Judgement’s axe split through the air like a plummeting comet.

It carved clean through Decras, splitting him down the center.

“No!” Renewal yelled.

“Fool,” Judgement spat, the wound on her chest already sealing. “This is the one that you cavorted with, Renewal? Your taste is truly so poor to choose the Desecrator as the reason you abandon the side of order?”

Renewal’s response was swallowed by a flash of black and a wet thud. Her lips split apart in disbelief.

Decras’s spear was lodged in Judgement’s head, having been driven directly through one of her eyes. The Goddess’ lips were parted in stunned disbelief, golden blood pouring down her face in thin rivers.

He drove the spear straight through her eye. Judgement’s body jerked as Decras ripped his weapon free, spraying more golden blood across the ground. The High God crumpled in a heap of growing gold.

Strands of black reached out from Decras’ halves, latching onto each other. With a squelch, his body reconnected itself and he turned, a smile on his face.

Renewal gaped, taking a stunned step back.

 “Was that a scream of horror I heard?” Decras asked. “For me?”

“I — how?” Renewal stammered. “You killed a High God?”

“Killed? No.” Decras looked down at Judgement. Then he stabbed her again. Her body jerked as he pulled the spear free. “I would love to, but I can’t kill this thing. She is arrogant, but that arrogance is earned. All I can do is incapacitate her.”

“How?” Renewal asked, swallowing. “And why are you here? I thought you ran!”

“I hid,” Decras corrected. He stabbed Judgement once more. “Judgement was far too powerful for me to challenge properly. I had to cheat a little, but I’ve had far too much fun to abandon you so easily. I do fear that your time as a Goddess of Reincarnation is over. There’s no coming back from this.”

“No,” Renewal said quietly, her gaze drifting back to Judgement. “There isn’t.”

“Time for a choice,” Decras said, driving his spear into the back of Judgement’s head as her body twitched. “You could probably find a different corner of the universe to lie low in. Judgement’s reach isn’t that large, despite what you’ve been led to believe. You can stay prim and proper, your hands unsullied by becoming one of the vile fallen. Or…”

“Give me that,” Renewal said, grabbing the spear from Decras’ hands. She lifted it up, then drove it down into Judgement’s heart with all the force she could muster. The High Goddess jerked, golden blood splattering everywhere as Renewal ripped the spear free. “The order can rot. I’ve hated this job for centuries. I quit.”

Decras cackled. He took the spear back from Renewal, then swept it through the air. A black portal split open in its wake.

“Welcome to the ranks of the Fallen, Renewal.” Decras gestured to the portal. “Freedom awaits. And if you ever decide you want out, a written notice will suffice.”

Renewal hesitated for a moment. She glanced down at Judgement, then to the dark screen that had occupied so much of her time recently.

“What about—”

“They’ll be fine. Judgement doesn’t know who they are, and the trail is already gone. I’ve dealt with that. Now stop wasting time and march. The more time you spend here, the less time we get to watch. I’ve already got a spot waiting for us, and the food is getting cold.”

A smile pulled across Renewal’s features. “I suppose you did leech off my hospitality for a while. It’s about time you returned the favor.”

She stepped through the portal and vanished.

Judgement twitched. A furious hiss slipped from her blood-wetted lips. “I will find you, Decras. You cannot escape Judgement.”

“Could you be more pretentious? I have no idea how Renewal put up with your shit this long. I would have done this long ago,” Decras said. “You may be a High God, but while you have been stagnant, I have grown. The universe changes, Judgement — and you are too great of a coward to admit it. The time of your order draws to a close. And when it ends, I will be there to sever its head from its shoulders. But for now, I will settle for this.”

Then he stabbed Judgement in the ass.

The High God howled curses after him as Decras pulled the spear free and stepped into the twisting patch of shadows. It twisted shut in his wake, and Judgement was left with nothing but the darkness as company.