Chapter 215: Settling Old Scores; the Immature Playwright
"An infernal fiend? What's a thing like that doing here? Get out of my way!" the smoke demon shouted furiously.
The armor of smoke shrouding Hugin warped and shifted before condensing into a massive hand that swatted the stunned infernal fiend aside.
The infernal fiend seemed baffled. How had a demon suddenly appeared? More concerningly, the human before him now radiated an overwhelming demonic aura.
Caught off guard, the infernal fiend was sent flying. It crashed into the wall of the corridor and smashed straight through it.
"Can you still move? You don't look dead yet. Partner?" the smoke demon called out to the silent Hugin.
"Kill it," Hugin answered grimly. He charged forward at the fallen fiend.
Though his body was weakened and his fighting spirit nearly exhausted, the smoke demon's armor acted like an exoskeleton that amplified his strength. Two beings with the physique of grand knights combined, their synergy made them far more than the sum of their parts.
Under ordinary circumstances, Hugin's use of demonic power would demand a heavy expenditure of fighting spirit to suppress the demons' will.
But the smoke demon was different. Its power was willingly offered, and required no fighting spirit on Hugin's part at all. Malevolent Possession served to synchronize them perfectly.
"Good. That's more like the partner I know!" The smoke demon laughed heartily.
As Hugin thrust out his hand, wisps of smoke gathered and wove themselves into a faint, delicate chain.
"I've marked it—drag the bastard here!"
The smoke demon's voice crackled with excitement. From the moment it struck, it had no intention of letting the infernal fiend escape. Smoke marked the fiend's body, solidifying into chains that bound it.
Hugin stomped down, embedding his foot deep into the ground to anchor himself. Then he lowered his center of gravity and pulled.
The chain snapped taut. From beyond the broken wall came a furious, terrified screech.
"Yes, that's it! Drag the bastard over here, and then smash its ugly head into the floor!" the smoke demon shouted with infectious excitement, the sheer eagerness in its voice almost palpable.
"Shut up," Hugin growled through gritted teeth, too focused on pulling to spare the smoke demon any more of his attention.
"Cruel you are," the smoke demon muttered. "I rushed here to save you, and you're still telling me to shut up. Isn't that a little heartless? Fine, fine, let's kill the thing first."
Though it grumbled, it did fall silent.
The infernal fiend was slowly reeled in, inch by inch. No matter how it clawed at the ground or tried to tear at the smoky bindings around its neck, it couldn't escape.
The chain moved with a life of its own, dodging the fiend's flailing talons. The fiend was unable to try to free itself while straining against the chain. It lost all traction, accelerating its demise.
The infernal fiend slammed against the fractured wall as chains locked it in place.
Then, with a mighty heave, Hugin and the smoke demon ripped the wall apart. Stone crumbled. The infernal fiend, amid the rubble, was dragged helplessly to Hugin's feet.
Hugin stomped down hard on its chest. The force cratered the ground beneath them. Bones cracked and splintered with a sickening crunch.
The smoky chains morphed, twisting into shackles that locked the fiend's arms to the ground. Immobilized, it could no longer lash out or even struggle.
The fiend's crimson eyes blazed with terror, rage, and madness, the instincts of a denizen of the infernal planes awakening to the bitter truth of its impending death.
Ghostly green flames gathered in its maw, hellfire primed to erupt.
But before it could unleash the blast, a javelin of ice pierced straight through its gaping mouth. Frost surged outward, suppressing the infernal flames and freezing the demon's head and neck into a grotesque ice sculpture.
"I'm not here just for show, you know! Hurry up and finish this damn thing off, Captain!" Charles shouted, fuming. He was still seething from the close call he'd had with the infernal fiend earlier.
The joints of the smoke armor groaned and shifted. A mechanical rumble filled the air as Hugin slowly raised both hands.
Smoke gathered, coalescing into a great axe—not unlike the one the Smoke Demon Knight had wielded when they slew the Font of Life. It looked smaller now, but was no less lethal.
The massive blade tore through the air, a blur of smoke and steel. Driven by the combined might of two grand knights, it cleaved down without mercy.
The infernal fiend's neck snapped like a dry twig. Its head tumbled free, spurting strange fluids that stained the floor. No amount of demonic vitality could save it now.
"Ugh, what a disgusting thing. All right, get on with it," the smoke demon called out, starting to chatter again now that the fiend was dead.
"How did you get here?" Hugin asked, dismissing the smoky axe and letting it disperse. His voice was calm, almost detached.
"I was supposed to follow Wang Yu, right?" the smoke demon explained as he seeped into the air, scouting the building. "But the kid figured it out. He might not know exactly what you're planning, but he knew something was off. He said you needed me more than he did, and he was right."
The smoke demon's goal was to ascertain Marquis Engel's current location. The Reflected World would last for a dozen or so minutes yet, and it intended to finish him off before that deadline.
"Good."
Hugin nodded, closed his eyes, and linked his senses with the smoke demon's. Together, they sent a cloud of smoke through the mansion in search of the nobleman whom a decade's worth of hatred had engraved into his mind: Marquis Engel.
"Wang Yu's reached the Abyss," the smoke demon said. "Things are dangerous down there—a lot of people from the Abyssal Gate showed up to stop him. But hey, he's got friends. The Church of Nightfall and even their god are backing him. He won't end up all alone like you did. Relax."
The smoke continued to expand. Then, the smoke demon frowned.
"Found him. He's in a ruined hall, among the debris and puppets, sitting there just waiting for you."
"Got it."
Without any hesitation, Hugin barreled straight through the mansion's walls toward that hall.
His boots crashed down heavily as he entered the ruined space. There sat Marquis Engel. He opened his mouth, as if to speak—but Hugin didn't give him the chance. Without a word, he lunged forward and drove his fist toward the marquis's head.
Then, suddenly, his punch froze in mid-air.
Shock flickered across Hugin's eyes. Inside him, the demons whose voices had been suppressed by Charles's devil, "One," now howled and raged even more violently than ever before. His control over his body wavered under their hysteria.
"I know you want to kill me," Marquis Engel began smoothly, "but you might want to think about whether it's worth it. I left contingencies within the demons inside you. If I die, they die—and so will you.
"I can atone. I can make amends. I'll transfer all my accumulated wealth to you... or to the Nightblades themselves, in secret.
"And after that, I'll disappear. Live out my days as a wandering penitent to atone for my sins, perhaps.
"Think about it, Hugin. There are so many people who care about you. The Nightblades bear you true loyalty for having led them well all these years.
"Your closest friends, Mr. Sieg Wilsbach and Archbishop Fang, would be devastated if you died for the sake of revenge. Don't throw away your life for something like this. You're capable of so much more.
"And as for the royal family, you must know how corrupt it has become. This celebration, the divine descent of the God of Terror—it was all orchestrated by the palace.
"This celebration was always meant to be a purge, an excuse to eliminate restless upstarts among the nouveau riche. After today, with no more rebellious lords to check their power, the royals will grow even more tyrannical. Without a leader like you, what'll become of the Nightblades? Think very carefully, Hugin.
"As for you, Charles Ryder, you know that I'm telling the truth, don't you? Go on. Persuade your captain and make him see reason."
Marquis Engel spoke in a rapid torrent, seizing the brief moment to argue his case while the demons inside Humin were rampaging and leaving him immobile. He formed a desperate argument in an attempt to save his own life.
"Captain..." At the entrance to the hall, Charles stood frozen. He had heard every word—and he was utterly shaken.
"Damn it... Is that bastard telling the truth? If the captain kills him, he'll die too? Hey, ‘One', can you tell if he's bluffing?"
"He's not bluffing," the voice of the demon "One" echoed grimly from deep within Charles' mind. "All those demons are bound to this man by contract. If Marquis Engel dies, the demons will be forcibly banished back to their native infernal planes. When that happens, the spatial rift between this world and those planes will tear Hugin apart. At our current level of strength, there's no way we can save him."
The words sent a deep chill through Charles' mind, and a surge of panic flooded him.
Though he griped and complained about his captain often, he couldn't stand the thought of losing him permanently.
"Captain, don't be reckless! We can find another way to kill this bastard! Those demons inside you—we can deal with them later, even seek help from someone stronger. The world's a big place. There's always another way. Don't throw your life away just like this!" Charles cried out urgently. All the while, he quietly gathered magic in secret.
He needed to summon The Judgment, upright. He'd trap Hugin if he had to. No matter what, he couldn't let Hugin die like this.
"See?" Engel, still gasping, forced a ragged smile as he tried to appeal to Hugin, who was still locked in silent struggle with the demons raging inside him. "Even your subordinate thinks your life is worth more than this."
"Partner, have you made your decision?" The smoke demon's voice stirred in Hugin's mind.
"Did you have to ask?" Hugin retorted coldly. "When it comes to this bastard, I've never hesitated."
"..."
An awful, grating sound tore through the hall as Hugin's armor screeched.
By sheer force of will—and aided by the smoke demon—Hugin moved even as the demons within tried to immobilize him.
His arm shot out. Before Engel could react, Hugin's hand closed around his throat.
"Ghh—damn it—! You stubborn bastard, stop!"
Marquis Engel clawed frantically at Hugin's arm as the crushing force on his neck grew. His vertebrae creaked ominously under the pressure. His breathing faltered.
"Stop, stop—!"
In a desperate move, Engel struck his own chest—where he had inscribed an array in his own blood earlier during the chaos of the fight against the infernal fiend.
A dark pulse of power erupted from his chest, sweeping over Hugin.
The demons inside Hugin flared, their strength forcibly magnified, overwhelming him completely. Even the smoke demon's armor could no longer force Hugin's body to move.
"Let go, you bastard!"
Engel pulled a small alchemical bomb from his pocket. With trembling fingers, he pressed it against the paralyzed Hugin.
He knew he'd be caught in the blast too, but he didn't care. If he could just buy enough time for the Reflected World to collapse, the aftermath would take care of everything.
A hand of smoke caught the bomb and hurled it aside.
"Too bad," came the smoke demon's voice, low and cold. "I would have preferred my partner to finish you himself. But if not, I'll do it for him."
The armor of smoke peeled away from Hugin, leaving him frozen and powerless. A hand of smoke tightened around Engel's throat.
"You—how—why didn't it affect you?!"
Engel stared in disbelief at the smoke demon who had separated from Hugin's body.
"Because," the demon said softly, "I'm not one of the poor demons you crammed into him years ago. He captured me himself."
With that, the demon squeezed. A sickening crack echoed through the hall as Marquis Engel died.
At that same moment, a spear of light hurled from a distance was deflected by an invisible barrier of smoke.
"You understand, don't you?" the demon turned to Charles, whose face was pale with shock. "Sometimes the right thing is to respect someone else's choice—not to make it for him."
Charles had been trying to stop the smoke demon from killing Marquis Engel, but he had clearly failed.
"Sorry, kid," Hugin said, almost gently. "I did join the Nightblades because of revenge. But after all these years... their ideals, their spirit, it changed me too. I wouldn't have minded sacrificing my life for the Nightblades, but I'm not a saint. My goal was always vengeance. My life's a small price to pay in comparison.
"Thanks for trying, though. If not for you, my final insurance might not have been enough to kill him.
"Death was always going to be the end of my story. Playwright of fate though you might be, it seems that you're still a little too green. Better luck next time."
With Engel's death came the inevitable. Hugin's body began to warp, distorted by the opening of spatial rifts between the planes. The demons bound within him were being forcibly dragged back to their plane of origin.
The pressure was unbearable; no one could survive.
In his final moments, Hugin turned to Charles. He smiled, a smile unlike his usual serious demeanor. It was pure; he had been liberated. There was no hollow emptiness in that smile, only fierce, overwhelming satisfaction.
Was there regret? Perhaps. But in the end, he had more than earned his revenge. It was all worth it.
"I..."
Charles tried to speak, but he was at a loss for words. He could already see the fabric of space collapsing around Hugin as the unstoppable end drew near.
"You heard him, didn't you?" Hugin's voice was steady. "I'm not worried for the Nightblades. I know the kind of people they are. That's why I believe in them.
"It won't matter whether I'm around or not. Now—go. Get to the edge of the Reflected World. If you stay here, the rifts will tear you apart too."
Hugin waved lazily, as if dismissing him. The smoke demon separated fully from him and lunged toward Charles, dragging him bodily away from the hall.
The last thing Charles saw was the space around Hugin fracturing, folding inward, collapsing into chaos.
"Those who choose their fate are blessed," the demon "One" murmured in Charles' mind. "You once said that to me, didn't you? Your captain—he's that kind of man."
"Damn it..." Charles clenched his fists, teeth grinding. "I'm still too weak, far too weak...!"
His heart raged like a storm.