After making sure Cate was closely protected alongside all of the injured people, Lucian and Aurelia set out to confront the coming calamity.

  Lucian beheld Villeth, the eight-armed demon, with a telescope. In attire, he resembled the Dragonwarden—Romanesque gear with a large feather crest, and almost gladiatorial black armor. That was no coincidence. The two of them had their origins in similar times. Where they diverged was the eight haunting swords singing through the air. Each of them looked like a crescent moon taken right from the sky.

  Villeth was essentially the trump card that the demons played whenever they wanted to decisively settle a matter. The only antagonist that rivaled him in terms of reappearances was Aurelia, and she’d managed that only because she had nine lives. He was less of an enemy that could be beaten, and more an unstoppable force that had to be avoided until the end of the game. He was meant to be overcome, not beaten.

  He had absurd abilities. The first notable one was called Double Trouble. He could move both on the enemy turn, and the player’s turn. The first thing that Lucian thought about when Villeth came to mind was that initial dreadful feeling when it switched over to the player’s turn, and Villeth moved first. That had been a cosmic shock. Here and now, though…

  Villeth confronted one of the emperor’s imperial guard squadrons. There were perhaps ten of them, formidable fighters each and all. It didn’t look as though the demon was struggling. One might think that the devil’s swords would bounce against one another, but his arms flowed liquidly to block each and every attack. A mage cast a spell at him, and he simply slashed the spell. It was absorbed into the sword, and he lashed out to cast it back at them.

  Villeth has Magic Counter, Lucian remembered. Any magic damage you do to him will be reflected back unless it passes a certain damage threshold. He also has Guard Counter. Any physical damage receives a proportional counterattack.

  One of the fighters received a demonstration of Guard Counter after slamming their axe into the back of Villeth’s foot. The devil was barely harmed, but his sword sung through the air in retaliation and chopped them in half. It looked like he was chopping bamboo, not hardened veterans.

  Generally speaking, attacking Villeth directly was just suicide. It would be the equivalent of punching a poisoned spiky ball with bare knuckles. It was a lot better to attack him indirectly—cause a cave-in, collapse the floor beneath him, send him tumbling off into the abyss. Luckily for Rowan, the player generally fought him in a place where this was always possible. But Lucian…

  What kind of environmental stuff can I pull on a mountain? He ground his teeth together nervously. Breaking the bridge, maybe? Hell, he could probably climb back up the mountainside before I could sing London Bridge.

  Defeating him was off the table. In War of Four, it was barely feasible to defeat him like other enemies. If someone had a party especially designed for fighting Villeth, he could run out of HP. But considering how ridiculously hard he hit, it meant sacrificing at least some units. Sacrifice wasn’t necessarily a choice he wanted to make. Not even Aurelia, if only because she’d probably chicken out.

  Been trusting her too much. Sent her to talk with Cyril alone, and now she’s fetching Brutus. Lucian lowered the telescope. She can’t have orchestrated this. I’m sure of that, at least.

  Lucian thought of the devil, and the devil appeared. Aurelia arrived… though not with Brutus alone in tow. Algard and Denzel both came with. Lucian narrowed his eyes as they began to alight.

  “Where is the demon?” Brutus asked excitedly. He still had wounds on his body. “Point me in its direction.”

  “Brutus, if you go out there right now you’ll die,” Lucian said harshly.

  Everyone looked at him, and Aurelia shifted back to her human form. “He’s right,” she said. “I know the demon that’s coming.”

  Algard walked up to Lucian, then held his hand out. When Lucian only stared at him, he said, “Telescope.”

  Lucian gave it to him, letting the emperor take a good look. “Reinforcements from my imperial guard have…” he trailed off, then lowered the telescope. He went silent for a few seconds, swallowing. Then, he lowered the telescope from his eye. His breathing quickened before he regained his composure. “We should evacuate. They tried to destroy the bridge to prevent that—we need to flee, now.”

  Lucian went silent, thinking deeply about how Algard’s presence could change things.

  “Flee? Ridiculous,” Brutus scoffed.

  Algard looked back and tossed the telescope. “Look for yourself, then.”

  Brutus stabbed his spear into the ground and also examined the ongoing battle. He was silent for a long while. Lucian was still locked in thought. Then, Brutus also lowered the telescope. “I’ll buy time. Take who you can.”

  “Smart man,” Algard said, patting his shoulder. “They’ll write ballads about you. I’ll sponsor them.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Denzel said. “Thousands will die, Algard, if an evacuation goes poorly. We’re not talking about unimportant people. Nobles of the empire, monastics of Heavenwatch Monastery. This would be a devastating blow.”

  “They’ll be avenged in time,” Algard said.

  Lucian walked over to Aurelia, deep in thought.

  “Avenged? That’s all you have to say?” Denzel asked incredulously. “We can do a lot more than that. There has to be another way.”

  Algard spread his arms out. “This is why you wouldn’t be able to do anything as emperor. You can’t make the hard calls. This is an unfortunate tragedy, but we need to accept it. Don’t believe me? Look at that demon and—” Algard cut himself off. “I’m wasting time. Every second we talk is a second it comes closer.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The new emperor started to walk away, clearly intent on returning to the monastery.

  “I have a plan,” Lucian called out.

  “Have fun with that,” Algard waved.

  Aurelia looked at the emperor and said, “Lucian was our strategist for the fight against Metterand, and it turned out swimmingly.” Algard paused and looked back. “He’s a genius. So I suggest you listen to him.”

  “…the hell are you saying?” Lucian whispered angrily.

  “They could die, Lucian,” Aurelia said. “That’s why I brought the emperor. And I’ll reveal the truth if it makes him stay.” She looked back at Algard. “The demon possessing Metterand was far more formidable that the entirety of this monastery, but we overcame it because of Lucian’s strategies. I believe we can do it again, if you’ll only listen and obey.”

  She was flagrantly lying, but Lucian held his tongue.

  Algard studied Lucian. “I thought the monastery rebuffed you after you cowered while Metterand rampaged.”

  “Incorrect,” Brutus contributed. “That woman is his f—”

  “Don’t,” Lucian interrupted desperately. He didn’t want the source of all legal authority in the empire falling into that ridiculous misunderstanding.

  “Have you read the news about Lucian?” Aurelia asked. “Partial arcane paralysis. Superficial meridians. He’s all but a cripple. Yet, right now, he’s stronger than any of his peers. Why? Killing demons and reclaiming their purified essence. If there’s anyone that understands how to overcome a foe far stronger than himself, it’s Lucian.”

  Algard stared at Aurelia. “I’m not in the custom of trusting people like him.” Lucian nodded, recalculating his plans. Algard would’ve been a game-changer because fist fighters were broken. “But… I’ll do it as a favor. A favor to you, personally, and to the monastery. Just so I’m clear… I want you to be in debt to me, Aurelia.”

  Lucian narrowed his eyes. Weird tone, weird phrasing.

  “Fine,” she said, then crossed her arms. “I’d be in your debt.”

  “Very well.” Algard looked back at Lucian. “What’s the plan, ‘genius?’”

  Why in hell did she use that word? Lucian thought, feeling dread.

  “You know the Utrenn Aversion Stance,” Lucian said, pointing at Algard. “Your—"

  “I do,” Algard interrupted.

  “Wasn’t a question,” Lucian snapped, annoyed. “Just listen. Your role is going to be the most important.”

  “And presumably you’ll be staying in the back, very far away,” Algard said dryly.

  “No. I’ll be casting spells right in the frontlines, behind the two of you.” Lucian raised and clenched his hand, thinking. “Might be strange, what you see me do, but the ‘why’ can be answered later.”

  Lucian finally had a very good use for his Formless Essence. It was a little out there, but if it worked… they could come out on the other side of this intact.

  ***

  Lucian was relying on one simple detail about Villeth: the demon operated on instinct. As much was explicitly stated by the game. If Lucian did something that wasn’t necessarily instinctual, it stood to reason that the demon wouldn’t be able to reason what was wrong with the situation to correct and adapt.

  Lucian wasn’t pulling any punches, now. A lot of secrets would be revealed to those present. It had to be done.

  “The power I’m giving you will cure the poison,” Lucian told Brutus. “Once you use this dagger—the Voodoo Dagger—it should weaken Villeth tremendously. Only after he’s poisoned do you use this power.”

  Lucian had temporarily lent the ability of the Blessing of the Titan’s Heart to Brutus, then gave him two things—the Voodoo Dagger and a poisoned arrow. Titan’s Heart ignored Aisha’s snake strengthening the poison, so Lucian wasn’t concerned.

  “Alright, you,” Lucian said, looking at Algard. “Repeat back what I told you to do with the Aversion Stance.”

  “No,” Algard said. “I remember what to do.”

  Lucian narrowed his eyes, but didn’t argue further. “You’d better, elsewise we’ll all die. I’m giving you another blessing. Use it right before you strike, just in case.”

  Lucian imparted the ability of the Blessing of the Soothsayer to Algard. The man touched his chest, eyes narrowed. “What the hell is this ability you have?”

  “Save that for later,” Lucian said. He walked over to Aurelia, crouching down in her divine beast form, and clambered on back. Denzel was already sitting there.

  “And lastly, what are you doing?” he asked Denzel.

  “Potion duty,” Denzel said.

  “You’re my enabler,” Lucian said. “You help me drink.”

  “…yeah, I got it,” Denzel said begrudgingly.

  “And Aurelia, what are you?” Lucian asked, knowing she couldn’t respond. She looked at him, perplexed. “No, wrong. You’re not just a stupid dog. You’re a stupid defense dog. Stop us from dying, please.” One of her tails flicked his nose, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Seriously, though… good work, Aurelia. Good call, bringing these guys here.”

  She looked ahead wordlessly.

  “Are we moving?” Algard asked.

  “We’re moving,” Lucian confirmed.

  Algard, Brutus, and Aurelia started to move in tandem toward the approaching demon. He got some déjà vu. Hopefully that was a good sign—last time had turned out alright. But last time…

  Twenty-two monastics died against Belhazek, Lucian reflected. And the number could be much more this time.

  Before Lucian could see any sign of an opponent, there was a black blur before him, and Lucian heard a clash. Aurelia brought up a golden shield to block, and was sent sliding backward. Algard’s arms had a great gash across them, and he’d been cast away a great distance. Only Brutus had managed to avoid being hit bad, standing firm with spear in hand.

  Villeth’s head turned between them, evaluating them like a butcher would a slice of meat as his arms moved in eerie tandem. Behind him lay the corpses of all the imperial knights that’d been defending the periphery. Villeth wasn’t as large as some demons, standing at perhaps eight feet.

  “Interesting,” the demon said, its voice a rumbling thing that resonated in Lucian’s chest.

  Brutus stepped forward and declared in a grandiose voice, “I’m your—”

  Villeth lashed out with all eight of its blades at once. Brutus immediately moved to defend himself, clearly put on the backfoot. He swatted aside ferocious slashes and thrusts one after another, before a final stab sent him tumbling backward. He had several deep gashes on his body, and cast a healing spell on himself without delay as he panted heavily.

  “Mediocre,” Villeth decided of the Martial Prince of the Confederation of the Veen.